It was a twenty-minute walk from The Lark to the supermarket, but Lulu Lewis was glad of the exercise. She had been driving her narrowboat for the best part of six hours since dawn and needed to stretch her legs. They were just outside a small village about thirty miles to the south-west of Manchester. The Lark was on the Bridgewater Canal and it had been a spectacular day, and tiring. They had covered fifteen miles and had gone through three long tunnels. The longest was the Preston Brook Tunnel, which was over twelve hundred yards long and was so straight that she had been able to see daylight at the end all the way along. The tunnel wasn’t wide enough for boats to pass each other, so boats heading north were only allowed to enter the tunnel during the first ten minutes of every hour; there had been a queue of half a dozen waiting to make the journey when Lulu had pulled up at the entrance.
After passing through the third tunnel, she had decided to stop for provisions. She had found a mooring spot with a supermarket just a mile away. Several other boats had clearly had the same idea.
Conrad wasn’t so keen on walking and so he rode on her shoulders, attracting curious looks from anyone who passed by. It was unusual to see a cat perched on a person’s shoulders, but Lulu had become quite used to it. He weighed barely anything and it was comforting to hear his soft purr in her right ear.
‘I feel like salmon,’ said Conrad as she carried him along the towpath.
Lulu had become used to the fact that Conrad the cat could speak, and that she was the only person that he would talk to. When he had first walked into her life and onto her narrowboat in Little Venice, the shock of finding out he could talk had almost made her faint. Now she took it in her stride. ‘Salmon sounds good,’ she said. ‘Or sea bass.’
‘Oh yes, sea bass would be nice. Can I change my order?’
‘I hadn’t realized that you had placed an order, but yes, of course you can.’
Conrad fell silent as a lady walking a golden retriever headed towards them. The dog spotted Conrad and its tail began to wag furiously. The woman pulled at the dog’s lead and then her jaw dropped when she saw Conrad. ‘Oh, my goodness. There’s a cat on your shoulders.’
‘Yes, there is,’ said Lulu. ‘He’s a fashion statement.’
The woman stood still and tugged the dog back. ‘That is amazing.’
Lulu stopped and smiled. ‘He is an amazing cat.’
‘I love his colours. What do you call a cat like that?’
‘His name is Conrad.’
The woman frowned, then laughed. ‘No, I meant what breed is he? I love his colours.’
Conrad was often complimented on his colouring, a mixture of black, white and orangey brown. The right side of his head was mainly black with a white patch around the nose and mouth, and the left side was brown and white. ‘I call him a calico cat,’ said Lulu. ‘But people tell me that’s an Americanism and that I should say he is a tortoiseshell. But there is nothing of the tortoise about Conrad.’
‘Well, he is absolutely lovely,’ the woman said. She looked down at the golden retriever. ‘Isn’t he lovely, Murphy?’
‘Woof!’ said the dog, straining at its lead.
‘Oh, he talks!’ said Lulu.
‘Yes, he does,’ said the woman. She patted the dog on the head. ‘You love to talk, don’t you?’
‘Woof, woof!’
‘Well, you and Murphy have a lovely day,’ said Lulu, heading off.
‘You too,’ said the woman. ‘Come on, Murphy.’
Conrad waited until the woman was out of earshot before speaking. ‘A talking dog?’ he said. ‘Good grief, when did anyone ever hear a dog talk?’
‘I was being polite.’
‘And if a dog could talk, what could it possibly say? Throw me a stick? Feed me? Can I smell your butt?’
‘Conrad!’ said Lulu. ‘What a terrible thing to say! That’s practically doggist.’
‘I’m not in the least bit doggist,’ said Conrad. ‘Some of my best friends are dogs. But conversationalists they are not.’
They left the towpath and Lulu checked her phone to make sure they were heading in the right direction.
‘However did humans manage before smartphones?’ Conrad asked.
‘That’s a very good question,’ said Lulu. ‘There are printed canal guides which would tell you everything you need to know about a canal and its facilities. People used them, I suppose. Or asked a local.’ She held up the phone. ‘This is so much easier.’
They walked down the road until they saw the sign for the supermarket. It was a Waitrose and Conrad’s ears pricked up. ‘Waitrose do sell the best sea bass,’ he said.
‘They do, don’t they?’ agreed Lulu.
Conrad jumped down from Lulu’s shoulders when they reached the entrance. ‘I’m sorry you’re not allowed in,’ said Lulu.
‘You could say that I was your seeing-eye cat.’
‘I don’t think that would work,’ said Lulu.
‘Your emotional-support cat, then.’
‘You definitely provide me with that,’ said Lulu, ‘but best you wait here. I won’t be long.’
‘Don’t forget my Evian water.’
‘As if I would.’
Lulu went inside and picked up a basket. She went to the wine section first and chose a bottle of Chardonnay that was on special offer, then added two bottles of Evian. The sea bass did look good and she chose two fillets, then picked up a bag of salad and some new potatoes. Dinner sorted, she bought bacon, six free range eggs and a loaf of bread. She was running low on tea and added a box of Tetley teabags. The fruit displays looked so inviting that she took some bananas, oranges and apples. The basket was getting heavy so she called it a day and headed to the tills. Her heart sank when she saw the self-service checkout machines, and her reservations were confirmed when she had to call for assistance to confirm that she was over twenty-five, but she persevered. She used two carrier bags to pack everything away, knowing that balance was important when you had a cat on your shoulders.
Conrad’s tail swished when she came out. ‘Woof, woof!’ he said.
‘You’re not going to let this drop, are you?’ said Lulu. She bent down so that he could jump onto her shoulders, then headed back to the canal.