Copycat by Colin Dann Page A

said. ‘I have to go back to be the pub soon, so there’s not much time.’
    Pinkie heaved a sigh of relief as he vanished. ‘They can do what they like, those two,’ she murmured as she lay down. ‘I must try to think of a way to get Sammy back.’
    The mention of kittens had not been lost on Hermione. The existence of Sammy’s one-time mate, low-bred though she was, had come as an unpleasant surprise. The Church Cat nagged Sammy until she had all the facts.
    ‘Was that . . . creature part of your old life?’ she wanted to know. ‘When you roamed about?’
    ‘Yes, my old life,’ Sammy answered. ‘When I – you know – was rather wild.’
    ‘Then why is she here now?’
    Sammy was flummoxed. ‘Well, she . . . she followed me,’ he replied unconvincingly. They had returned to the vicarage.
    ‘Where are the kittens?’
    ‘They were captured,’ Sammy told her, glad to be able to give a truthful answer. ‘In one of the round-ups. We – I mean she – couldn’t save them.’
    The Church Cat had hoped for more information. She had never been mated, and she had been intrigued by the subject of kittens. ‘Poor little things,’ she murmured before she could stop herself. ‘Where were they taken?’
    ‘I don’t know. Where do those horrible patrols take any cat?’ Sammy began to tremble slightly. The memory of that horrific sequence of events in the park still had the power to disturb him. ‘Let’s . . . let’s not talk about it,’ he whispered. ‘It’s all in the past. I don’t like to think too much . . .’
    ‘I understand. But your mate. Your ex -mate. What a scruff! How could you –’
    ‘She wasn’t always like that,’ Sammy cut in quickly, on the defensive. ‘I don’t know what’s happened to her. She once was a very . . . pretty cat,’ he ended regretfully.
    ‘Was she indeed?’ the Church Cat returned, once again on her dignity. She didn’t want to listen to compliments, unless of course they were for her.
    ‘Oh, she never had your grace or style or composure,’ Sammy continued. ‘But when I first came across her, she was sort of kittenish herself.’
    The Church Cat had heard all she wanted to hear and possibly more. She was ready to go indoors. From the vicarage window sill she turned proudly and said to Sammy, ‘So you’re still a savage at heart? Well, maybe I’ve been misled. We shall see.’
    Sammy returned to Monty’s garden, a mixture of feelings welling in his heart. He knew the girl would have brought Monty’s meat but, strangely, he didn’t feel hungry. He heard Monty’s miaows raised in protest.
    ‘You’ve no right. No right at all. Oh, “When the cat’s away . . .” There never was an apter phrase. If Sammy was here, he –’
    ‘He what?’ It was Domino’s voice and his mouth was full. ‘He’s no more right to this than me. And he isn’t here, is he?’
    ‘Who’s that, then?’ Monty cried gleefully as he saw the tabby breast the fence.
    Domino looked out from the house but continued to munch. ‘That? That’s a cat that’s turned soft. Softer than you. Soft as a cushion.’
    Monty knew better but he said no more. He awaited results excitedly. Sammy walked straight up to the cat-flap, as bold as brass.
    ‘What’s this?’ he asked.
    ‘What’s it look like?’ Domino growled.
    ‘Theft,’ came the reply. Sammy wasn’t using the Church Cat’s drawl now.
    ‘Theft, eh? How is it theft when I eat this if it isn’t theft when you do?’ Domino was looking a little uneasy. He wasn’t absolutely sure of his ground, despite his bravado.
    ‘Monty and I have an arrangement,’ Sammy replied reasonably. ‘And that arrangement is . . .’ In a split second a front paw lashed out and Sammy’s claws raked across Domino’s face.
    The black-and-white cat let out a howl of pain. He hadn’t been on his guard and was taken completely by surprise. Monty gloated. But Sammy wasn’t finished. He leapt on Domino and dug all his claws deep