it was running. Ellen opened the door and saw us. We froze, squared our eyes, and continued. Ellen got the message, smiled and left us alone.
A month or so later Jessica became fat and heavy with my kittens.
Soon she was too fat to crawl under the sofa. Being pregnant calmed her down. It calmed everyone down, including me. Jessica was contented. She left the postman alone, set up a new refuge for herself under Ellen’s bed, and on a hot night in June, Jessica gave birth all by herself to three silky kittens. My children.
Ellen immediately moved them all downstairs to a basket in the kitchen, but Jessica insisted on moving them back, carrying each kitten in her mouth carefully up the stairs. She always left the little tabby one until last. It was a girl kitten, fluffy and very beautiful with tinges of silver and gold in her fur.
‘This is a special kitten,’ said my angel, ‘she’s come here to heal, like you, Solomon.’ So, in those moments before Jessica came back for her, I gave the tabby kitten lots of love and purring. One day she opened her baby blue eyes and looked at me as if she wanted to fix me in her memory forever.
It was the last happy day I remember. The house felt sunlit and peaceful. Ellen and Joe were friends, and John was playing happily in the garden.
And that was the day the bailiff came.
I was feeling fragile because a few days ago Joe had taken me to the vet who had put me to sleep and done something to me to stop me making any more kittens. It was painful, and humiliating, and I felt depressed afterwards, despite understanding the reason. I’d agreed this in the spirit world. Being a full tomcat would distract me from my true path. I had agreed to love Ellen and help her through a difficult time, but if I’d known how difficult it would be then I might not have volunteered. Ellen had let me have my fling with Jessica first. She’d wanted Jessica to experience the joys of motherhood and for John to see the kittens born and growing up.
That was Ellen’s idealistic dream.
On that warm June day my angel had alerted me at dawn. She’d shown me a picture of a man in a grey suit inside a large building with ‘County Court’ carved in stone letters over the door. The man had been writing Ellen’s name and address on a form. My angel told me that today he was coming to our house. Ellen didn’t know. I had to be there. To stay calm and keep purring. ‘Remember you are a healing cat,’ she said.
Joe had gone out and I had to sit up all day watching, even though I wanted to lie down after what the vet had done. By lunchtime I was worn out. No one had come. Ellen was pottering about the garden while John was splashing and squealing in a big water tub on the lawn. Eventually I fell asleep, curled up on the sunny doorstep. In my dreams bees were humming over the flowers, swallows twittered overhead and the long grass at the edge of the lawn was full of chirping grasshoppers. As I dreamed about the spirit world another sound dragged me back, heavy footsteps coming nearer. I opened one eye and saw a pair of gleaming shoes on the doorstep.
‘Hello puss!’ A man’s hand reached down to stroke me. The bailiff!
Compared to a tiger a cat is very small. So it’s no good acting like a tiger and attacking people. Cats have to be subtle and artful.
I displayed my hostility to the bailiff, completely ignoring him by staring into the distance with no response to his attempt to stroke me. After what the angel had said, it was surprising to find the bailiff was an ordinary human. But he was acting sinister.
His neck was locked stiff, his eyes icy cold and his heart encased in metal. I could hear it ticking as he knocked at the door.
Ellen opened it, carrying John who was wrapped in a blue bath towel. Her innocent eyes looked enquiringly at the bailiff.
‘Double glazing?’ she smiled. ‘No thanks.’
‘Mrs King?’
‘Yes. That’s me. And this is John.’
John didn’t look happy, even though Ellen was bouncing him about to try and make him laugh. His solemn eyes caught mine. He knew. The bailiff’s frozen aura was obvious and menacing to him.
‘Mrs Ellen King?’
‘Yes.’ The smile was shrinking on Ellen’s face.
‘And your husband is Mr Joseph King?’
‘Yes?’
The bailiff showed Ellen a card.
‘I’m a bailiff from the county court. I have a warrant to enter your property and seize goods to the value of seventeen thousand pounds, a debt your husband owes to the bank.’
I watched Ellen’s aura splintering. It was alarming. John chose that moment to start crying, and this upset Ellen. She screamed at the bailiff and her eyes were two cracks of blue fire.
‘How dare you come here, threatening us? Can’t you see I’m a mother with a small child? It’s not my debt, it’s HIS! I know nothing about it!’
I wormed my way into the hall and sat at Ellen’s feet, puffing myself up protectively. How I wished I was a dog, an Alsatian or a Rottweiler. It’s terrible having to hiss when you want to bark.
The man kept coldly repeating the same words, his voice a monotonous chant against Ellen’s hysteria and John’s crying. However, as Ellen’s distress grew, it was John who calmed her down by putting his fat little arms around her neck.
‘Mummy, talk nicely.’
Ellen’s legs were shivering. The bailiff’s gleaming shoes were squeaking across the doormat. My angel stood in the hall with a golden sword in her hand but no one except me could see her. Jessica was bolting upstairs with yet another kitten swinging from her mouth.
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