like Snow-flake.’
‘Handel won’t notice Snowflake.’ He knows Handel almost as well as I do, has been the family vet for years. ‘And this is a lovely cat. Special too, because her mother never saw the inside of a house. She was on a farm over towards Lydiate, got fed by the farmer’s wife, wouldn’t settle inside.’
‘Great.’ I step away, afraid to touch that wonderfulkitten-fluff. I’m a cat lover, take the whole business far too seriously. I understand the Egyptians’ fascination with cats, can see why they made gods of them. They are so delightfully arrogant and I’m not having another one. ‘You are asking me to take in a feral kitten? It won’t behave. It’ll be ripping the house to pieces once it gets its bearings.’
‘Laura, you have a way with animals.’
‘So do you. Take it home. I’ll still take birds into the garage if anyone fetches them. Ben may not be here, but I’ve learned a lot and the RSPB knows we do good work here and that cat might kill a bird in a box and—’
‘You always talk fast when you’re unsure of yourself, Laura. Will you throw this little cat out into the cold? Will you?’
‘Will you?’ I ask. ‘You’re the one in charge. Take it home, the kids will love it.’
The eyebrows are almost knitted together now. ‘Laura, I’ve four cats, two and a half dogs and a parrot that swears all the time and plucks its feathers out. My so-called housekeeper can manage that lot while I’m away, but a new kitten might put her off. I’m taking the kids down south for a fortnight.’
He’s a lovely man. The half-dog has useless back legs, so Robert made a wheeled contraption for him. Bonzo enjoys this strange mode of travel, has worn out his wheels several times, needs to be serviced at regular intervals, gets oiled and adjusted every week. ‘You’re a fool, Robert. OK, pass her over.’
The huge grin lights up his face. I love two men and I cannot have either of them. I can’t have Ben because he hardly exists any more, and I can’t have Robert because Ben’s still alive in the technical sense. Snowflake is warm, soft, skinny beneath the fur. ‘Will she make it? Is she going to be healthy?’
‘I think so. The diet is written down here. Intelligent creatures, cats. You’ll find that she’ll start lapping early, probably within a week. She’s decided to live. All youhave to do is feed her a few drops every hour or so.’
My jaw sags. ‘In the middle of the night?’
‘She’ll let you know, crawl up to your face when she’s hungry.’
‘I see. So I take her upstairs, do I?’
‘You’re her mother now. Do your best.’
I am an appalling mother – my sons and my daughter could testify to that. If this lovely creature is going to depend on me for positive support … ‘You’ll kill me if she’s dead when you come back.’
‘Probably.’ He looks me up and down, latches on to a key word that he half-remembers from a minute ago. ‘Ill? What kind of ill?’
‘Operation. I’m OK now.’
‘You didn’t tell me.’
‘No.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Flakey is eating my sleeve. See, I’ve already christened her properly, I’m on a loser before I start. ‘It was my business, not yours. And I didn’t want you languishing by my bedside during visiting hours. It would have been the talk of North Liverpool, the vet having an affair with poor old Ben Starling’s wife.’
He tut-tuts, barges into the kitchen, makes a din while setting the kettle to boil. I follow with Flakey, who has fallen asleep in the crook of my arm. ‘Don’t sulk, Robert.’
‘Don’t sulk? How bloody long were you in hospital? I came round nearly every day, caught Ruth feeding the cat a few times. What happened to Chewbacca?’
‘Kennels. He’s a gregarious chap, likes a change of scenery.’
‘But you were gone for ages.’
I’m not going to tell him about the breakdown. That frail young Diana could take it, but this big macho vet would worry and fret
‘Handel won’t notice Snowflake.’ He knows Handel almost as well as I do, has been the family vet for years. ‘And this is a lovely cat. Special too, because her mother never saw the inside of a house. She was on a farm over towards Lydiate, got fed by the farmer’s wife, wouldn’t settle inside.’
‘Great.’ I step away, afraid to touch that wonderfulkitten-fluff. I’m a cat lover, take the whole business far too seriously. I understand the Egyptians’ fascination with cats, can see why they made gods of them. They are so delightfully arrogant and I’m not having another one. ‘You are asking me to take in a feral kitten? It won’t behave. It’ll be ripping the house to pieces once it gets its bearings.’
‘Laura, you have a way with animals.’
‘So do you. Take it home. I’ll still take birds into the garage if anyone fetches them. Ben may not be here, but I’ve learned a lot and the RSPB knows we do good work here and that cat might kill a bird in a box and—’
‘You always talk fast when you’re unsure of yourself, Laura. Will you throw this little cat out into the cold? Will you?’
‘Will you?’ I ask. ‘You’re the one in charge. Take it home, the kids will love it.’
The eyebrows are almost knitted together now. ‘Laura, I’ve four cats, two and a half dogs and a parrot that swears all the time and plucks its feathers out. My so-called housekeeper can manage that lot while I’m away, but a new kitten might put her off. I’m taking the kids down south for a fortnight.’
He’s a lovely man. The half-dog has useless back legs, so Robert made a wheeled contraption for him. Bonzo enjoys this strange mode of travel, has worn out his wheels several times, needs to be serviced at regular intervals, gets oiled and adjusted every week. ‘You’re a fool, Robert. OK, pass her over.’
The huge grin lights up his face. I love two men and I cannot have either of them. I can’t have Ben because he hardly exists any more, and I can’t have Robert because Ben’s still alive in the technical sense. Snowflake is warm, soft, skinny beneath the fur. ‘Will she make it? Is she going to be healthy?’
‘I think so. The diet is written down here. Intelligent creatures, cats. You’ll find that she’ll start lapping early, probably within a week. She’s decided to live. All youhave to do is feed her a few drops every hour or so.’
My jaw sags. ‘In the middle of the night?’
‘She’ll let you know, crawl up to your face when she’s hungry.’
‘I see. So I take her upstairs, do I?’
‘You’re her mother now. Do your best.’
I am an appalling mother – my sons and my daughter could testify to that. If this lovely creature is going to depend on me for positive support … ‘You’ll kill me if she’s dead when you come back.’
‘Probably.’ He looks me up and down, latches on to a key word that he half-remembers from a minute ago. ‘Ill? What kind of ill?’
‘Operation. I’m OK now.’
‘You didn’t tell me.’
‘No.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Flakey is eating my sleeve. See, I’ve already christened her properly, I’m on a loser before I start. ‘It was my business, not yours. And I didn’t want you languishing by my bedside during visiting hours. It would have been the talk of North Liverpool, the vet having an affair with poor old Ben Starling’s wife.’
He tut-tuts, barges into the kitchen, makes a din while setting the kettle to boil. I follow with Flakey, who has fallen asleep in the crook of my arm. ‘Don’t sulk, Robert.’
‘Don’t sulk? How bloody long were you in hospital? I came round nearly every day, caught Ruth feeding the cat a few times. What happened to Chewbacca?’
‘Kennels. He’s a gregarious chap, likes a change of scenery.’
‘But you were gone for ages.’
I’m not going to tell him about the breakdown. That frail young Diana could take it, but this big macho vet would worry and fret
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