Faerie Lord

One

Two years later…

‘What’s going on?’ Henry asked at once.

Hodge was staring out through the bars of the cat-carrier, an expression of fury on his face. Aisling was nursing a bleeding hand, an expression of outrage on hers.

‘Your cat bit me!’ she exclaimed. ‘Vicious brute should be put down.’

‘I told you to leave him alone,’ Henry said. He looked directly at his mother. ‘Why is he in the carrier?’

‘Henry, he bit your sister. Scratched her too. Luckily just on the hand. If he’d gone for her face, he could have scarred her. She could have lost an eye.’

‘I told her not to tease him,’ Henry said. ‘Why is he in the carrier?’

‘I didn’t tease him!’ Aisling shouted.

Henry rounded on her. ‘You’re always bloody teasing him! Ever since I brought him home. Picking him up and poking him and taking away his food. It’s no wonder he bit you. He’s an independent tomcat, not some sort of stuffed toy. He just wants to be left alone.’

‘I don’t think we need that sort of language,’ his mother said stiffly. She stared at Henry for a moment, then went on. ‘The point is that he attacked your sister and drew blood. There’s a risk of tetanus or cat-scratch fever. We can’t just ignore something like that. You know I was against his coming to live here in the first place.’

Henry looked his mother directly in the eyes. ‘Why is he in the carrier?’ he asked for the third time.

She looked away, to one side. ‘Oh, we’re not going to have him put down, if that’s what you’re thinking. Anais has gone to get the car. We’re taking him to the vet to be neutered.’

For a moment Henry simply stood there, stunned. Then he said, ‘You’re getting him neutered because he scratched Aisling? As a punishment?’

‘No, of course not,’ his mother said impatiently. ‘It’s just that he’ll be more placid when he’s neutered. Less likely to attack people.’ She sniffed. ‘And a lot cleaner.’

‘Mum, he’s never attacked anybody in his life except Aisling and that was only because she teases him. She teases him all the time. And what’s this about cleaner?’

‘Tomcats spray,’ his mother said. ‘They mark their territory. I don’t think even you want that sort of smell about the house.’

‘He doesn’t spray in the house,’ Henry said. ‘He’s never sprayed in the house. He may spray a bit in the garden, but that’s a different thing.’

‘It’s not something they can help,’ his mother said reasonably. ‘It’s territorial, just as I said, and it’s only a matter of time before he starts to do it in the house. We’ve all decided it’s better to do something about it before he actually starts.’

‘Not all,’ Henry said at once.’ We didn’t all decide anything. You and Aisling and, I suppose, Anais decided. I didn’t decide anything. I wasn’t even consulted – and he’s my cat!’ Technically, he was Mr Fogarty’s cat, but Mr Fogarty hadn’t seen him in two years so he might as well be Henry’s cat.

‘Try to keep your voice down, Henry,’ his mother told him. She waited a moment, as if he needed time to control himself, then went on in her most reasonable tone. ‘We thought it would be a great deal easier on you if we simply went ahead. I know how much you love that old cat and that way you wouldn’t have to worry about the effect of anaesthetic or the operation going wrong. I actually thought you’d gone out.’

This was the way it had always been. His mother kept insisting every nasty little thing she ever did was for his own good. And it was worse since Anais moved in. Anais herself was all right – Henry quite liked her and she’d even sided with him about bringing Hodge home – but when it came to the things Henry’s mother really cared about, like that stupid little scratch on Aisling’s hand, she always seemed to get Anais on her side. Like now. Anais had gone to bring the car to take Hodge to the vet. Not because he sprayed in the house or would ever spray in the house, but because he bit Aisling in self-defence and Henry’s mother wanted to teach him a lesson.

It was the sort of thing Henry had had to put up with since he was a little boy. And with Dad long gone he was in an all-female household and it was steadily getting worse. But he wasn’t a little boy any more and he wasn’t going to put up with it.

Henry walked over to the carrier. ‘Not this time, Mum,’ he said and flicked the catch.

Hodge burst out of his cage like a rocket.