Authors: Marian Babson

To Catch a Cat (13 page)

BOOK: To Catch a Cat

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Leif was sleeping soundly and Robin felt an overpowering weariness himself. He was too tired to eat, too tired to brush his teeth, almost too tired to get into his pyjamas. He was especially too tired to think.

He upended Leif's empty bowl over his tuna sandwich, set the glass of milk beside it and went to bed.

A clattering, scraping sound woke him in the morning and he sat up to discover Leif clawing frantically at the bowl, maddened by the delicious reek of tuna coming from beneath it.

âWait a minute, wait a minute.' Robin scrambled out of bed and lifted the bowl, laughing as Leif bumped his head against it in his rush to get at the food.

A night's sleep had not provided any better solution to his problem than the one he had already worked out, Robin found.

He dressed slowly and reached reluctantly for the scissors.

While the tuna lasted, Leif was happily occupied and unconcerned with what Robin was doing. There could be no doubt that he was thoroughly enjoying his meal; he even ate the rich oil-soaked bottom slice of bread with gusto. When that was finished, he nibbled with less enthusiasm at the drying top slice which had not absorbed so much flavour. A long luxurious dip into the glass of milk rounded off his meal and he turned his attention to the unusual kind of stroking he was receiving.

âOoops!' As Leif twisted around unexpectedly, the scissors snipped off a larger chunk of fur than intended. âNo, no â¦ keep still,' Robin pleaded.

Leif sat down and regarded him benevolently. A faint contented burp passed his lips and he obviously decided that it was time for a quick wash and brush up before his next nap. He raised one paw to his tongue and soaked it thoroughly, then scrubbed behind an ear. His whole body shook with the energy he was expending.

âNo, stop it,' Robin said. âHow can I fix you up if you won't keep still?' He got a grip on another clump of fur and chopped it off.

Leif lowered the paw and regarded him with surprise and not a little indignation. He was not accustomed to this sort of treatment, not since the time he had wandered through the burdock thicket.

âThat's better.' Robin took advantage of the cat's bemusement and clipped off another swathe of fur. It was the only way to disguise Leif he could think of. People would be looking for a long-haired cat; therefore, Leif had to be turned into a short-haired cat. Whether he liked it or not.

Leif didn't particularly like it. He stretched out his neck
and sniffed suspiciously at the growing mound of fur that seemed strangely familiar, then gave Robin a quizzical, oddly disapproving look.

âI can't help it,' Robin said. âIt's for your own good. Well, and mine, too,' he admitted. âIf Mr Nordling catches up with us, we're done for.'

The cat regarded him earnestly, then began to wash the other ear, not protesting when Robin gently pulled his tail out to full length and began shearing it.

Leif stopped washing and watched the operation critically. He voiced a pertinent comment and flicked his tail aside suddenly, just as the scissors were about to close on another clump of fur.

âKeep still,
please
â¦' Robin dropped the scissors, his hand shaking. âI don't want to nick you. Just don't move. I'll get this done as fast as I can.'

Leif gave a couple of all-over twitches and looked with dissatisfaction at a coat that had refused to fall back into place in the smooth lines he was accustomed to.

âI'm sorry â¦' Robin looked at the ragged coat and the affronted cat. âBelieve me, I've got to do this.' But maybe, after he'd cut back most of the fur, he could borrow Josh's electric razor and give it a little trim to tidy it.

One thing, he cheered himself, the cat certainly wasn't looking like a prize-winning pedigree any longer. Robin frowned at him judiciously. Unfortunately, he still looked a little too much like Leif Eriksson.

âTake it easy now.' Robin patted Leif's head soothingly and sighed. It was a shame to destroy that gleaming white shirt front and bold ruff, but they had to go.

Leif's nose came down to sniff at the scissors as Robin began snipping away at the beautiful thick fur.

âMrreowyaah?'
he questioned as it began to fall away. He suddenly attacked it with his tongue, as though he could stick it back on.

âIt will grow again,' Robin assured him, hoping it was true. âWhen it's safer, you can go back to looking like yourself.'

But would it ever be safer? What was safe? One careless mis-step and they had been in the wrong place at the wrong time: they had both tumbled out of the safe ordered world they had known and into an unknown nightmare, as surely as Alice falling down a rabbit hole.

âWe'll be all right.' He was trying to reassure himself rather than the cat now. Mum â¦ If Mum came back soon â and Steve â they'd buy that house they were talking about and he could move away from here. Or maybe Dad would send for him and he could go and live in Canada. Maybe even Auntie Mags would take a good clear look at Joshua and decide to leave him, taking Robin with her back to the city.

Adrift in his daydream, he had stopped working on Leif. The cat looked at him, then tried to scratch his nose on the point of the scissors.

âDon't worry.' Robin came back to the present. âI'll take you with me.' It was a decision he had not been conscious of making and he heard his own words with a faint surprise, then realised the truth of them. âI'll take care of you. I won't let him get you.'

Leif lunged forward suddenly to rub his muzzle against Robin's chin. Robin gathered the cat to him in a big hug, comforting to both of them.

âWe're friends,' Robin affirmed. âYou're my buddy, aren't you?' Leif snuggled against him in agreement. Robin stroked the uneven lumpy fur with a faint sense of guilt. âYou're not so pretty now,' he said, âbut you're safer.'

Or was he? He still had the same face and there wasn't much Robin could do about that. The long white whiskers must not be shortened â Robin had read enough of the cat care books to know that. Leif depended on them for measuring the width of holes, for keeping his proper balance and probably for a lot of other things the cat experts hadn't found out about yet.

âMaybe you could lose a little bit of the cheek fur.' Carefully steadying the head, he positioned the scissors behind the whiskers and took an experimental snip. Yes, that was
better; it changed the shape of Leif's face, giving him a leaner look. And a lop-sided look. Robin grinned and evened off the other side.

âThat's better â for a disguise, I mean.' He tried not to laugh and hurt Leif's feelings. Leif was looking as bedraggled and forlorn as any alley cat who had spent most of his time sniffing around dustbins. Leif seemed to sense this and was becoming increasingly indignant.

âJust one thing more maybe.' He took hold of the tip of the tuft of fur sprouting from one ear.

âNrrraaaah!'
But that was a snip too far. Leif twisted out of his grasp, dropped to the floor and stalked away, stiff-legged.

âAll right, that will do â¦ for now.' He got the distinct impression that he'd better not push his luck any farther or Leif might get really mad and start yowling. He'd heard Leif's blood-curdling yowl the night of the â¦ the night he took him from the Nordling house â¦ and he did not want to hear it again, especially not where other people might hear it, too.

Leif stopped abruptly and shook himself. A cloud of fragmented white hairs flew away from him and drifted to the floor. He lowered his nose to them in some surprise and obviously decided he was urgently in need of a bath. He sat down and began work on what had been a proud fluffy shirt front.

âNo, wait â¦' Robin could see too many bits of hair adhering to the long pink tongue. âYou'll make yourself sick. Stop â let me brush it for you first.' He rushed over to the dressing-table, snatched his comb and brush set and sat down heavily beside Leif. He pulled the cat into his lap and began brushing.

There was an awful lot of loose fur, the brush was clogged with it in just a few strokes. Maybe it would be better to use the comb first to clear the worst of it away and then brush. He began working to that theory.

âIt's for your own good,' he whispered defensively as Leif twisted round with an accusing stare. He felt increasingly guilty as the second mound of fluffy fur piled up beside him.
He was covered in the stuff himself. He was going to have to clean the brush and then use it on everything he was wearing. He had the uneasy feeling that, even then, he would not be rid of every trace of it.

Leif squatted suddenly, raised a hind leg and scratched vigorously behind one ear. Robin became conscious that he felt pretty itchy himself. He supposed that meant he'd have to take a shower when he finished here â and he'd better hurry up.

Josh would get into a mean mood if the hot water was all used up when he got home.

He was so absorbed in his task that he didn't hear the car draw up in front of the house, nor the slam of the car door. The front door opened and closed more quietly, but there was nothing quiet about the voice fluting up the stairs.

âWhere is he? Where is my darling one-and-only grandson? Where are you, Robin?'

Granna!

âMummy!' The door slammed behind Mags and she leaned against it, panting. She'd seen Mummy's car drive up and had run all the way from the corner.

âOh, there you are, darling.' One foot on the bottom stair, her mother retreated and turned to smile at her.

âHow did you get in?' Mags hadn't meant it to sound accusing, but that was the way it came out.

âThe door was unlocked. I hadn't realised you were out.' Her mother turned the accusation back on her. âReally, darling, do you think it's wise to go out and leave the door unlocked? I realise you know the neighbourhood better than I do, but â¦' A delicate shrug implied that: (a) she had neither the wish nor the intention to know the neighbourhood better; (b) Dear Margaret had always been careless, if
not irresponsible; and (c) what could one expect, given the sort of man Margaret had taken up with?

âI was only going to be gone for a few minutes,' Mags lied quickly. âI thought you'd ring before you â ' No, that wasn't right, it sounded accusatory again. âI mean, I was expecting you to come by train. I was going to meet you at the station.'

âThat's sweet of you, dear, but I really didn't want to put you to any bother. It wasn't an arduous drive and I feel much better having my own transport.'

âI was going to lend you our car.' Now she sounded sulky - and far more easily identified as lying. Josh would not part with his car without a fight.

âMm, yes. And do you still have the same car?'

âYes, we do.' Now she sounded defiant. Well, she was. Oh, this visit was getting off to a great start.

âMm, yes.' Another delicate shrug: (a) one could not be expected to drive about in an ancient rustbucket which was, beyond dispute, on its last wheels and probably with bald tyres; (b) the brakes, suspension and steering were also undoubtedly in a highly dubious state; and (c) no properly thoughtful and reasonable daughter would dream of allowing her poor mother even to step into a car in that condition, but then, this was Margaret one was dealing with.

Mags pulled herself away from the comforting support of the front door and inhaled deeply. The richly heady floral essence of the expensive scent Mummy had always favoured rushed into her lungs and threatened to choke her.

âWhere's my darling grandson?' There was to be no more time wasted on preliminaries. âWhere is my one-and-only grandchild?' Her cold assessing gaze swept over Mags, lingering pointedly for an instant on the tummy region before moving away quickly, underlining the sub-text: Your brother has provided me with a grandchild, but you â¦

Unsatisfactory again â or would Mummy really welcome a grandchild sired by Joshua? Had there not, perhaps, been a frisson of relief as she looked away?

âRobin may have gone out. I'm not sure.' Mags met the accusation in her mother's eyes and attempted a defence.
âHe's not a baby any more, he can go out on his own. He's working on a school project, I know. He may have gone to the library. He spends a lot of time there.'

Unlike you. Her mother's little nod of approval was for Robin, not her.

The silence increased Mags's uneasiness. This place was far too unnaturally quiet. The radio wasn't muttering away in the background, the way it always was when Josh was around. Mummy hadn't been inside long enough to turn it off, had she? Perhaps Robin had turned it off before he went out. Josh would be furious if he knew that. He thought the radio â tuned to his station, of course â should be on twenty-four hours a day, so that they didn't miss any of his appearances. Perhaps the batteries had run out.

But Josh would have more than a silent radio to be furious about now. Joshua and Mummy were pretty evenly matched in their detestation of each other. And Mags was in the middle, the reason for their hostility. She would be caught in the crossfire of icily pointed remarks, dark looks and sniping comments for as long as Mummy was here. And, where Joshua was concerned, for a long time afterwards.

âOh, my dear, you never change.' Her mother's delicately martyred sigh drifted into her consciousness. âI
said,'
thus emphasising that it had been obvious that Mags wasn't paying attention, âit might be a good idea to drive down to the library and pick Robin up.'

âI'm not sure he's there.' It was as much of a protest as Mags dared voice. To her relief, something thumped overhead. âIn fact, I think he's here. He just didn't hear you come in.'

A door closed, loudly and firmly, and Robin appeared at the top of the stairs. âHello, Granna.'

âThere you are!' Mummy advanced to the foot of the stairs and held out her arms. âCome and say hello.'

âHello, Granna.' Robin started down the stairs slowly, obviously nervous of the threatened embrace.

There was something different about him. Mags tried to decide what it was. Could he have just washed his hair? It
looked damp and was closely plastered to his scalp. His face and hands looked imperfectly dried, too. He had clearly tried to spruce himself up before coming downstairs.

âGranna's come to visit!' He was caught in the inescapable embrace. Mags remembered how pleased Mummy had been when Robin had first started to talk and had not been able to pronounce Grandma. Granna was a more than welcome substitute, sounding more like a proper name than a title underlining the way the years were advancing. She had adopted the name enthusiastically; it had superseded âMummy' when she referred to herself in the third person.

âDid you have a nice trip, Granna?' Robin's voice was muffled as he struggled to free himself without making the struggle too obvious.

Mags sympathised. Without lifting a finger physically, Mummy had always been able to smother the unwary. Right now, Mummy was turning on the charm full power and Mags knew why. Mummy thought she'd charm Robin so thoroughly that he would agree to go home with her, and, once she had him under her roof, Eva would face a custody battle to get him back. Mummy must not be allowed to get away with it.

Fortunately, Robin wasn't looking co-operative enough to fall in with Mummy's scheme. In fact, he looked acutely uncomfortable, as well he might, in Mummy's iron embrace.

âShall we bring your cases in?' Mags offered distraction to allow Robin to escape.

âHeavens, no!' Mummy gave a light laugh; her quick glance around their surroundings was disparaging. âI'm booked into the Seaview Hotel, I've already left my things there. I'll expect to spend most of my time with you, of course, but I shall retreat to my own little space at night.'

âOh, right.' Mags went limp with relief, even though the decision contained several varieties of insult. Josh wouldn't want to spend his evenings with Mummy, either. If Mummy wasn't staying here, that reduced the length of time they'd all be thrown together.

âI'll have my meals with you, apart from breakfast, of
course.' Mummy gave her a knowing look. âI'll do the cooking myself.' She had never trusted Mags's culinary expertise. âBut tonight you'll all be my guests at the hotel. Unless you know of a better place?'

âNo,' Mags said quickly. âNo, the hotel will be fine.'

âThat's settled then.' The brilliant smile did not quite mask Mummy's satisfaction at getting her own way. She turned it on Robin, who stepped back uneasily.

âNow, my darling, let's get reacquainted. I haven't seen you in ages. How are you doing at school? How do you like living here? What have you been up to lately?'

The doorbell saved him. There wasn't one question in that whole lot he wanted to answer. He gave a weak grin and looked towards the door.

âJosh must have forgotten his key.' Mags started forward. He'd be furious with himself â and with her. But that would be nothing compared to his reaction when he discovered that Mummy had arrived and he was committed to dinner with her.

Mags opened the door, holding up her hand in warning. It would be all Mummy needed to hear if Josh burst into a profane tirade.

But â¦ She looked around. Josh wasn't there. No one was there, but someone had rung the bell â

âExcuse me,' a small voice said at about the level of her waist, âbut I am wishing to speak to Robin, please.'

BOOK: To Catch a Cat

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