By now the market traders had packed their vans and left, and the dark streets had begun to empty of pedestrians. I felt a growing sense of panic, wondering where I could go to find food. I ran across the square towards an entrance gate, through which I could see an imposing brick building set back amidst a well-kept garden. A smartly dressed couple hurried past me and made their way through the grounds towards the building’s floodlit entrance. I followed them, mindful to keep a discreet distance, and as they pushed open the heavy wooden door, the delicious aroma of cooked food drifted down the path towards me. I climbed a grassy bank and nestled under the branches of a yew tree, from where I could see into the restaurant inside.
I was transfixed by the luxurious scene on the other side of the glass. Diners sat at linen-covered tables, their faces lit by the glow from flickering candles. Some of them wore coloured paper crowns, the kind I remembered Margery wearing as she ate Christmas lunch. They looked pink-cheeked and in high spirits, refilling their glasses with growing frequency as their crowns slipped forward over their eyes. The sound of their laughter pierced the stillness outside, and I watched in fascination as waiters glided between the tables, placing plates of food in front of them with great ceremony. Women in heavy jewellery pushed food demurely around their plates, flicking glossy hair over their shoulders with an air of nonchalance.
Could there be a potential owner for me among this restaurant’s clientele? Surely some of them must be cat-lovers, I thought, but how was I to know which? I recalled the reaction of the woman I had followed at the farm shop: her face had shown undisguised revulsion when she had discovered me loitering near her car. Studying the perfectly groomed women in the restaurant, I felt sure they too would not welcome any overture of friendliness from a cat that looked the way I did.
The screech of an owl in the treetops above me brought an end to my musings. I did not have time to allow myself to dwell on my hardships. I needed to find something to eat.
10
Dense shrubbery ran around the edge of the restaurant’s grounds and it did not take me long to hunt a mouse. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle, and I allowed myself the luxury of a perfunctory wash under a rhododendron bush whilst waiting for my meal to settle. By the time I had finished, the clouds had cleared to leave a cold, starry night. The air temperature was dropping and the ground underneath my paws was beginning to harden. My next challenge was to find somewhere dry to spend the night.
Padding across the flowerbeds at the back of the restaurant, I noticed a short flight of stone steps leading to the street below. I crept silently down the steps, finding myself on a narrow, shop-lined road. A street light opposite illuminated the entrance to an alleyway between two shop fronts. Keen to get off the exposed pavement, I ran over and took a few tentative steps into the alley. It was enclosed by drystone walls, but up ahead I could see the backs of houses that bordered it on both sides.
As I inched along the path I scrutinized the windows of the houses that overlooked me. I felt a surge of optimism as I made out signs of human habitation within: pot plants on the windowsills, the flickering light from television sets, and dishes stacked messily next to sinks. Glimpsing the domestic clutter of strangers, I felt a wave of homesickness that made my throat tighten and eyes prickle. How I longed to be a part of someone’s home once more, to feel the warm glow of security that comes from being in familiar surroundings, knowing that you are safe and loved.
I wanted to get closer to the houses, to peer through the windows and see the people who lived inside, but it felt as though the further I went along the alley, the more isolated I became. The alley was unlit and silent, apart from the clicking of my claws against the path. The hairs on my neck bristled as I thought I heard something move on the other side of the wall. I froze on the spot, my ears twisting to locate the source of the sound, but the alley was silent again. I took a deep breath, telling myself that what I had heard was an echo of my own footsteps. Trying not to panic, I picked up my pace to a trot, my eyes fixed on the alley’s exit up ahead.
Suddenly there was movement on the wall above me. A security light on the back of one of the houses flashed on, and for a few seconds everything was lit up by a blinding white light. I backed against the wall and turned my head frantically from side to side, but I could see only the empty alley. The security light flicked off, everything went black and I held my breath as my eyes readjusted to the darkness.
My blood was thudding in my ears and I felt as though every hair on my body had stood on end. There was a scuffling noise on the wall, and I glanced up to see a shadowy shape leap down onto the path in front of me. I gasped, finding myself face-to-face with the orange eyes of a ginger tomcat. His spine was arched and his ears were pinned back against his head as he growled menacingly. Instinctively my body posture mirrored his. My back arched and I flattened my ears, letting out a low growl of warning. The ginger cat didn’t move a muscle. His narrow eyes were still fixed on mine, daring me to make the first move. He was a large, intimidating creature, his physical strength evident in his muscular frame. The patchwork of scars on his ears left me in no doubt that he was an experienced fighter. I had my back to the wall, and to escape I would have to run past him, exposing my vulnerable rear to his attacks. He began to yowl again, as if challenging me to try.
Suddenly there was a scraping noise from above, as someone slid open a window in one of the houses. Startled, the tomcat spun round to look, and I seized my chance, bolting back down the alley in the direction of the restaurant steps. I heard scuffling behind me and knew that the tomcat was in pursuit. I sprinted towards the halo of lamplight that glowed at the end of the alley, but as I ran, my energy start to sap away. The exhaustion of my long walk in the rain was taking its toll and I could feel the strength draining from my muscles. I knew the tomcat was gaining ground and I braced myself for the inevitable attack.
It came in the form of a searing hot pain in one of my back legs. I instinctively kicked out at my attacker and he, having delivered his knockout blow, backed off. I turned and hissed at him, aware of the burning sensation that was spreading down my leg and making my paw feel as though it was on fire. A cruel smile spread across the tomcat’s eyes as he looked at me.
‘Sorry,’ he said with a leer. ‘This alley’s taken.’
‘You only needed to say,’ I answered pitifully. He grinned as I limped towards the end of the alley.
Back out on the street, I felt light-headed, shaking with shock at what had just happened. I didn’t know where to go, but I knew I had to get as far away from the alley as possible. Trying not to put any weight on my injured leg, I retraced the route I had taken earlier, limping across the restaurant grounds until I found myself back in the market square. The pain in my leg was becoming unbearable and I knew I urgently needed to find somewhere under cover to tend to the wound. I hobbled towards a large yellow skip by the side of the kerb on the corner of the square. The skip was overflowing with rubble and waste, and stacked up beside it were piles of wooden crates and pallets. There was a musty, dirty smell coming from the crates, but I didn’t care. I forced myself through a gap between two pallets and burrowed forward until I reached the cold metal of the skip.