To Be A Cat

A Bad Feeling

RISSA WALKED OUT of school, out of the gates, and Barney noticed (though Rissa didn’t) that Pumpkin was still there on the pavement. And the ginger cat was still staring at him.

As Rissa kept walking, Barney felt her heart beating hard but not fast, like a bull against a gate. She was worried. Of course she was. She was walking out of school in the middle of the day. Plus, she had just made one very big enemy in the shape of Miss Whipmire.

And, speaking of the former Siamese cat, she was there now, outside the school. Barney could see her about two hundred metres behind them. She was just a speck from this distance. But she was watching as they walked down the very long and straight row of terraced houses which formed Alfred Street. Or was she?

No.

She wasn’t watching them. She was crouching down. Why?

Then Barney realized.

Miss Whipmire was crouching next to Pumpkin. She was telling the cat something. And now it was the ginger swiper himself who was staring at Barney and Rissa. And he kept staring right up until they turned the corner onto Hitchcock Road. Barney remembered what Pumpkin had told him earlier. ‘And, besides, we be ’avin’ our orders.’

‘It’s all right, little cat, don’t be scared,’ Rissa was whispering in his ear. ‘Miss Whipmire is just a very sad and bitter lady. Most humans aren’t like that. You’ll see …’

Barney realized where they were going. They were heading towards the river, which meant Rissa was planning on taking him to her barge. Which would mean food and drink and safety.

But it was going to be a long walk through the outskirts of town, through quiet streets and empty houses, their occupants out at school and work. About three miles, at least, which, even with Rissa’s long legs, would mean an hour or more.

And they weren’t safe.

Barney didn’t understand exactly why they weren’t safe, but he sensed danger in the air. Little invisible signals from somewhere, picked up by his whiskers the way aerials pick up the sound of music on a radio.

I’ve got a bad feeling, he miaowed to Rissa. The swipers – and Miss Whipmire – are trying to kill me.

She just patted his head and kept going, probably not realizing they were being watched.

Or followed.