Fifteen

Penny and Clara were so right about the changes in Catling. 

She forged ahead with more strength and energy each day. I introduce her to a litter box made from a box lid with a small lip so her little legs could cope. More boxes provided sleeping places lined with the hand towels that had her scent. There were two of these beds but she often preferred to sleep on my chest and, truthfully, I enjoyed the feel and comfort of her furry coat and her gentle breathing.

With increased appetite and regular feeding, Catling slept much better and so I was able to sleep longer also.

The weather had warmed into summer and I ventured outside with my kitten to see how she would manage in the big outdoor world.

It was then, in the small garden space behind my house, that I first noticed something very unusual.

It was afternoon and both of us had eaten well. I was sitting on the bright blue painted wooden chair, while Catling roamed at my feet sniffing the grass and diverted by every insect that flew near enough for her to jump up to catch. She often tumbled backwards in these attempts but I knew not to laugh at her. Cats of any age have their dignity to protect.

I was admiring the fur that now grew thickly over her body. It was, basically, a rich brown colour but there were golden glints and red hints woven throughout. Her paws were white and their size promised she would be a large and imposing animal in due time.

I breathed in the healing scent of lavender from the blooming plant at my side, and relaxed completely. 

It had taken me some weeks to get to this stage of relaxation. Nightmares occasionally disturbed me, and Catling, of course.  Although I had been assured by Dr. Dan, as I now also called him, that the barn had been cleared out, and Joan Crawley was in a nursing home, there was still unresolved the capture of Alan Crawley. He had gone missing shortly after he had given a statement to police about some of the places where he had “Dropped off unwanted kittens and puppies”.

I most certainly never wanted to see him again, but his face sometimes appeared in my nightmares. There was a search warrant out for him and his picture was being circulated in newspapers and on posters. I could avoid most of these pictures, but nightmares are not so easy to control.

I was dozing happily in my chair, when suddenly I felt a jab of something that came from outside of me. It was not a word or a feeling so much as an alert of a kind I had never before experienced. I opened my eyes and could see nothing alarming around me. Catling had climbed onto a stone and was balancing herself there with some difficulty, but a quick scan of the whole view indicated nothing worrying.

Before I could resume my relaxed state once more, I heard the doorbell ring. It was faster for me to run around the side of the house than to go through, so I took a few steps to pick up Catling and holding her to me, I ran to see who was visiting me. Visitors were rare and I was not expecting anyone.

Daniel Hudson stood on the doorstep. He announced he had come to inspect the ‘patient’.

 I welcomed him inside and we chatted for a while as he gave Catling a cursory look. Anyone could see at a glance that she was thriving beautifully.

I asked if he had any news from the RSPCA.

“I understand they have found all the places where Alan Crawley dumped the bodies, but the man has not been tracked down. I know his career in animal sales is over for good. The entire matter has been a warning for others who trade in animal misery. That’s the benefit of the news going out to everyone.”

“Dan, I have no television here. Can you tell me if my name came into any of this? I don’t welcome the publicity at all.”

Dr. Dan knew there were a few missing pieces in the story, such as how I had found the barn all by myself in the midst of a storm in the huge Dartmoor area. He had never asked outright, but I knew he had his suspicions.

“Well, nothing came from me, but I think Joan Crawley may have found out about your name from the police. Her interview was reported in the Exeter newspapers.”

I was about to say that was unfortunate, when the strange jolt came into my brain again. It was like a first stab of a migraine headache without the following effects.

I stopped short, and my face must have shown my puzzlement.

“Is something wrong?”

“Not really! Just an unusual feeling. I’m all right now.

Can you stay for some tea or a cool drink?”

He declined with thanks and was soon off down the hill by bicycle to his Vet Van and his busy practice.

I sat back and wondered what was going on. This feeling in my brain was highly unusual. Was it possibly a type of psychic intrusion from someone I did not know?

Who had that kind of power? I had met only a very few individuals who could communicate in this way. The jolt I felt was unfocussed, but there was power behind it nonetheless.

It was a puzzle all right.  A puzzle with no obvious explanation or solution.

I dismissed it as an anomaly …………………………….. but not for long.

The next day after Dr. Dan’s visit, I had a call from the town’s one postal outlet. They had received a letter addressed only to Justine Dixon, Perranporth, Cornwall.

The letter was pinned to a bulletin board in the post office until Pauline saw it and claimed it must be for her neighbour. She gave them my phone number

The call was to tell me to verify this information by coming in person to collect my letter.

I could not imagine who would send me a letter. No one knew where I was. I had deliberately kept my information secret. If Simon wanted me, he would use the usual channels.

This was strange and disturbing.

I intended to drive to the post office to collect my letter but first I had to secure Catling inside the car. With her mobility improving each day, she could not sit on my knee or be left to wander around getting into trouble. I searched my belongings for some kind of restraint. The only thing I could find of any use was my knapsack. There was a large outside zipped pocket.

If I placed one of the towels inside and partly zipped the pocket, it should provide a small safe space for the kitten. I needed to do some food shopping in town and this would allow me to keep the knapsack over one shoulder so I could guard Catling, and also get my errands done.

If this idea did not work out, Catling must go back into the car until I returned.

I hoped she would enjoy some exposure to the world outside of Sea View.

All was well at the local grocer’s shop. I collected my purchases in a plastic bag in one hand, and kept my other hand on the little round shape inside the zipped pocket. So far, Catling had shown no inclination to investigate the wider world.

When I reached the fishmonger, however, the smell attracted her attention and the little head popped out to the surprise of the man in the queue beside me. That led to a brief conversation in which I divulged nothing and collected my order quickly.

My last stop was the post office.

I showed my credit card for evidence of my name but I had to tell them where I was living in the rented house.

“Aha! That explains why we haven’t seen you here before, Miss Dixon. We did not know where you were living. Welcome to Perranporth!”

The exact moment when I received the letter into my hand, I felt the same jolt in my brain and I had to stop briefly and refocus my eyes. This time the jolt was stronger. 

Catling’s head emerged suddenly from the zipped pocket as she mewed in my ear.  Before she could be noticed again, I turned and ran back to my car in some confusion.

Was this strange phenomenon to be a regular occurrence? If so, it was not a welcome one.

I was usually in control of my powers, after long years of practice. This was something new and unwanted, and I must determine the source, and eliminate the source, as soon as possible.

When we reached the safety of Sea View, I released Catling from her pocket prison. She reacted by quivering all over and restoring her fur into its normal smooth places. I went into the kitchen to stow my supplies and found Catling at my heels as if she was afraid to lose sight of me.

Perhaps, I thought, she felt unsettled by being exposed to so many different smells and sights in the town.  I figured she would sleep soon.

I made tea and gave her a bottle. She gulped the food down quickly now and it was definitely responsible for most of her growth. She seemed to change every day.

With tea nearby, I sat down on my chair by the window with the letter in my hand.

It was time to solve the mystery.

I had no sooner slit open the envelope with my nail, then Catling jumped onto my lap, purring loudly. She would have to wait for petting while I found out who had my address …… and why?

Dear Justine

I found your location by making a nuisance of myself to a young college student called Penny who was mentioned in a newspaper article. She was keen to talk about recent events regarding the rescue of neglected animals and finally gave in and gave me what I wanted.

I knew it all had something to do with you, my dear, as you always had a strong attraction to animals.

This was ridiculous!  Who was writing to me in this personal way? 

I flipped at once to the end of the second page to see the signature.

Two things then occurred simultaneously.

My heart stopped for a second in shock, and the brain jolt almost knocked me off my chair.

Gasping for relief, I looked first at Catling. Her eyes were huge, dark golden, and fixed on my face and she was perfectly still, as if concentrating.

Suddenly several signs came together. Catling was the common denominator in these highly unusual brain jolts. She was near me every time it happened. 

Not only that, but the impact was getting stronger, especially at the exact moment when I read the name of my mother at the end of the letter.