“Look,” she said gently, unlatching the top of the box and taking it off, so Caramel could decide to come out when he wanted to. “There’s a special soft basket for you. And a litter tray. And I’ll get you some food.”
They had gone to the pet shop the night before and got it all – the travel box, and the cushiony basket, and the food bowls. It had been so exciting. Helena had looked at cat toys as well, but they hadn’t bought any, not for the moment. They were all designed for chasing and rolling and batting with paws, and Caramel needed to stay quiet and rest. Helena promised herself she’d go back, once he was better.
Caramel sat pressed against the back of the crate, looking around suspiciously. He hadn’t understood what was happening when they’d lifted him out of the cage and into this horrible little box. Then he’d thought that perhaps they were going home. It had been such a long time since he’d been there.
He hunched his shoulders, ears laid back, and watched Helena and her mum both watching him. But they were quiet and still, and no one was grabbing at him. The fur along his spine flattened down a little and he padded his paws thoughtfully into the blanket. Then he sniffed and shook his ears, standing up a bit lopsided. This wasn’t his old house, of course. But it smelled good. Not like the surgery, full of sharp strong smells that hurt his nose. This place smelled of the girl, and food. He lurched out of the basket, his plastered leg tangling in the blanket, and set out to explore.
“I thought he was never going to come out,” Helena breathed to her mum, watching Caramel sniff the doors of the cupboards.
“I know. Why don’t you put some food down for him?”
Helena stood up. She tried to do it very carefully and slowly, but Caramel still flinched back against the cupboards when he saw her move. It made her want to cry. “It’s all right. I was just getting you some breakfast,” she murmured. “Lucy said she didn’t feed you this morning, just in case you were sick in your basket.”
She fetched one of the tins out of the cupboard and pulled up the ring on the lid. Then she laughed as Caramel hurried across the kitchen floor, his plastered leg knocking on the tiles. “You sound like a pirate cat, with a wooden leg,” she told him, as she put the bowl down.
“I’m so glad he’s eating,” her mum said, leaning against the counter to watch him.
“I know – I was worried he’d be too upset being in a new place,” Helena agreed. “But look at him, he’s wolfing that down.” She stood up, putting an arm round her mum. “Thanks for letting us have him.”
“You’re not disappointed?” Mum asked. “I mean – it’s not like having a normal cat. He’s not very friendly. And he can’t sleep on your bed or anything like that.”
Helena shrugged. “I know. But he will be able to one day. And I know he’s not that friendly yet, but think how special it will be when he is.”
She crouched down again to watch Caramel licking out his food bowl. He’d definitely got his appetite back, and he was making sure to get every last morsel of food. He stood up again, rather clumsily, and licked his whiskers.
Caramel uncurled himself from his basket as he heard footsteps coming towards the kitchen door. The girl. And probably breakfast. He hobbled to the door to meet her, rubbing hopefully round her ankles. She crouched down to stroke him – but he noticed she carefully shut the kitchen door first, so he couldn’t dart round it. She murmured to him as she scratched the satin-soft puffs of fur at the base of his ears, and he leaned against her lovingly.
Helena had spent a lot of the weekend sitting next to him on the floor, letting him get used to her being around. She’d even done her homework sitting on the kitchen floor. When Caramel had tried to steal her pencil while she was doing long division, it had been one of the best moments of the weekend. It proved he was happy enough to play.
“I wish I didn’t have to go to school today…” Helena told him, as she scooped food into his bowl. “Urgh, this smells disgusting, Caramel. I don’t know how you can be so excited about it.” She giggled, watching him waltz around her feet, waiting for her to put the bowl down. He still didn’t like moving his broken leg much, so that leg stayed still, and the rest of him whirled around, a bit like a spinning top.
He started to gobble the food before she’d even put the bowl down, stretching up to get his mouth over the edge of the bowl, and patting at it with one golden paw.
“You’re definitely getting better,” Helena said, watching happily as he gulped the food down. “Are you making up for all those days at the vet’s when you didn’t eat properly? I do still wonder if you were a stray for a while before the accident. You’re ever so thin. And otherwise I’m sure your owners would have seen our posters if they lived anywhere near. We put them everywhere.”
Caramel was just finishing the food when Helena’s mum hurried into the kitchen. She was a bit late getting breakfast ready, and she was rushing. She banged the door open without thinking and Caramel shot into the corner, trembling and pressing himself against the side of the cupboard.
“Mum! You scared him!” Helena gasped.
“Oh! Sorry, Caramel…” Her mum shut the door gently, and crouched down, holding her hand out for the frightened cat to sniff. “I’m really sorry, Helena, I didn’t realize the door would frighten him so much. He’s been so good this weekend.”
“I know…” Helena agreed sadly. “But I suppose he’s still upset, deep down. It’s going to take a while for him to get over that.” She looked at her mum. “He will be happier again one day, won’t he?”
“I’m sure he will.”
But Helena didn’t think her mum was very sure at all.
“Be good, Caramel.” Helena ran her hand lovingly down his silky back. “Have lots of lovely sleep. Gran’s going to come and see you at lunch time, and I bet she’ll bring you treats.”
Caramel stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking up at her uncertainly. He wasn’t sure what was happening. Since he had arrived at Helena’s house, early on Saturday morning, Helena had been with him almost all the time. She had even come down in the middle of the night to check on him. But now she had a coat on, and a bag with her. It looked as though she was leaving him behind.
At his old house, his owner had gone out to work most days. Caramel had lazed the time away, curled up on the back of the sofa so that he could watch the people passing in the street. And the cars. Caramel laid his ears back with a frightened little hiss.
Most days he’d slipped out of his cat flap and patrolled his territory in the gardens behind the house. There were several other cats in the street, and he was one of the youngest and newest, so he’d had to be careful to stay out of their way. But he still had plenty to explore. There was a pond a few houses away, and he liked to watch the frogs. And catch them, sometimes. He could creep up on them among the plants around the water. But his owner hadn’t liked it when Caramel had brought one home. He had taken Caramel’s frog outside, and locked the cat flap so that he couldn’t slip out and fetch it back in again.
But here, there was no window to watch from, and no cat flap to slide out of. He was all alone in this little room. It was better than the cage at the vet’s surgery, of course, but being shut up still made him want to claw at the door and fight his way out. When would Helena and her mother come back? Perhaps they weren’t coming back at all? His old owner had fussed over him, and fed him, and loved him, but now he was gone. Maybe Helena had gone, too. Caramel stared anxiously at the kitchen door, hoping to hear them coming back. But there wasn’t a sound.