by Lisa Young
Pru’s thoughts were interrupted by a timid tapping on the front door. Pulling her nightgown down to cover her modesty, she shuffled to the door, mumbling to herself about the annoying tippy-tapping, and wishing that people would knock with a little more gusto.
As she swung the heavy door open, she was met with the sight of a highly anxious Lottie, who appeared to be unable to keep still. Lottie’s fear was palpable as Pru eyed her with suspicion. Pru did not hide her irritation at being disturbed, which Lottie seemed to detect, rendering her temporarily mute. Pru eventually ended the doorstep stand-off, swinging the door wide open, and barking to Lottie. “Enter!”
Lottie stumbled forward, but it was not lost on Pru that she cast a desperate backward glance towards the outside world, as if she was worried she wouldn’t make it back.
“Morning, Pru,” Lottie muttered, taking a deep breath. “Lovely day, don’t you think? Look, I thought it would be worth popping up to have a quick chat about the cat situation. After all, it’s hardly ideal but there’s not a lot to be done at this stage, is there?”
At the end of her rambling torrent of words, Lottie literally gasped for air, and Pru stood by silently, eyeing her accusingly, with her arms planted across her chest, and her wide legs akimbo. While the pregnant pause continued, she wondered why
Lottie was always so interminably nervous, although Pru was vaguely aware that she tended to have this effect on a lot of the people she encountered.
Breaking the awkward silence, Sappho mewed mournfully as she entered the room in search of her organic premium-cuts cat food.
Lottie reached down to pet Sappho who rubbed herself vigorously against Lottie, weaving between her legs in a confident dance.
“Poor little dear, I bet you’ve had a difficult night. The little ones will have been keeping you up no doubt?” she asked the speechless feline.
Sappho settled next to her empty bowl, nudging it pointedly, as Pru struggled to her feet muttering to no one in particular. “Huh! Privileges of the pampered!”
Lottie didn’t have to wait long to see her surrogate grandchildren, as Sappho quickly consumed her organic offerings and headed back to the basket in the dark recess of the room, from where a loud high-pitched, group mewling began. Pru watched with some malicious satisfaction as Lottie nervously edged her way towards the basket, and confirmed very quickly, that the striking markings of the five were undoubtedly those of the indomitable Boots.
A small squeak of excitement escaped her as she scooped up the nearest furry offering and nuzzled it to her chin. Seeming to forget for a moment that she was in Pru’s home, she slid to a sitting position, kicked off her trainers and appeared lost in the wonder of nature, and the product of her cat and his opportunistic encounter.
Pru had never been one to miss an opportunity, and the aching of her old bones and her need to disappear back to bed told her she wasn’t in this step-grandparenting situation for the long haul. Observing Lottie busily spreading her love equally between the five offspring, while tickling Sappho absentmindedly with her naked big toe, which she noted needed an urgent pedicure. She purposefully determined to help herself out of a temporary situation, which after all, she reasoned, was not of her own creation. She could never understand why people and circumstances constantly let her down.
“So,” she drawled as she sidled closer, proffering a cushion for Lottie to sit more comfortably. “This really is a most unfortunate situation and could not have come at a worse time for me. I’m sure you’re aware, Charlotte, that I am locally renowned for my rather unique artworks and I have been invited to a small fringe festival in Edinburgh next week as it happens.”
Pru observed Lottie glancing up at her art works. “Very few artists have been as innovative as myself in integrating mediums, that is, using watercolour and oil in the same piece. I am aware that you are no art expert, Charlotte, but rest assured, those at the cutting edge of the art world are beginning to notice my work. It’s only a matter of time.”
“I could take them for a few weeks, Pru, while you went to your show and Sappho could stay as well,” said Lottie.
Pru didn’t hesitate to seize the opportunity which she hadn’t expected to present itself so easily and hurried to collect all the pet accoutrements she could find, before Lottie could change her mind. “Good, good, let’s get them packed up then, no sense in dillydallying, eh?”
Lottie rolled to avoid the oncoming Pru, who deftly swiped the kittens up in both hands and firmly deposited them into the carriers. Sappho, sensing an upcoming move, dodged between Pru’s planted legs, but Pru, obviously used to catching her, leant precariously backward to catch her as she emerged. Going limp with displeasure, Sappho allowed herself to be unceremoniously deposited into the second basket. A few moments later, a carrier bag bulging with cat food and grooming equipment found its way into Lottie’s free hand.
“Well, dear, so nice of you to pop in, I’ll let you know when I’m back and settled.”
She propelled Lottie unceremoniously to the front door, a carrier in each of Lottie’s hands, and the bag of goodies tucked under an arm.
“Well, yes, I mean ideally, Pru, it would be good to have an idea of when that might be.”
Pru, mumbled something incoherent before speaking aloud. “Yes, absolutely, dear, absolutely! I’ll see you soon then, regards to Melanie!”
Pru shut the door firmly and heaved a sigh of relief at the thought of heading back to bed with a cup of tea.
STRUGGLING UNDER THE weight of the new family additions she was carrying, Lottie shuffled back along the short distance to her own home, where Alice was waiting in anticipation of the outcome of the grandparent summit talks. Lottie leaned down to release the catches of the carriers while a cacophony of noise and fur spilled forth into the living room and Alice raised an eyebrow suspiciously.
“Exactly what has happened now?” she asked as Lottie sank down into the well-worn sofa.
“Well, I think I’ve been stitched up. That’s a fact! I’ve never seen a family of cats dispatched so quickly into carriers. And I’ve no idea how I’m going to look after this lot as well as everything else. It’s all a bit shit,” Lottie said.
Following Alice’s look of displeasure, she noted, with horror, that one of the kittens was depositing a long stream of sticky tarlike poo on the carpet.
“Shit is about right!” said Alice as she shuffled closer to Lottie to avoid the aroma she was expecting to hit her nostrils at any moment.
“Bloody hell!” groaned Lottie as she reacted, involuntarily moving the kitten away from the mess, whereupon it encountered the unsuspecting Odie who had pottered in for a closer inspection of the new visitors. Eyes wide, Odie darted for the door, standing in the sticky mess and managing to spread it through the living room and into the kitchen.
“Oh, shit!” shouted Alice and Lottie in unison.
Inner Calm
LOTTIE RELUCTANTLY PULLED on a loose top and a pair of old jogging bottoms. She’d been trying to contact Pru for the past few days and she was convinced she must now have returned from her art exhibition. In fact, she was sure she’d been overtaken by Pru’s Citroen 2CV on the narrow Highland lanes, although she couldn’t make a positive identification because of the speed of the passing vehicle which had forced her to pull aside for safety. After some early evening spying, Lottie discovered that Pru’s bedroom light had gone on at seven twenty-four the previous evening, confirming that someone was in the house. Despite her reservations about Pru’s integrity, Lottie remained hopeful that it wasn’t Pru’s intention to have dumped the feline hellcats on her permanently. Alice, however, was more sceptical and urged Lottie to stop spying and go and hammer on Pru’s door.
Lottie’s home now reeked of the unmistakeable odour of cat urine, and the sofas sported dubious luminescent stains.
Adorable though the kittens were, both Lottie and Alice had struggled to cope with the never-ending chaos that the furries ca
used. They each had their own personalities, and Lottie was disturbed to discover that the genetic influence of Boots and his feral heritage seemed to be showing itself in his offspring, who were adorable one minute and then a ball of teeth and claws the next. Alice had tried to reassure Lottie that kittens were very much split personalities as they explored their sharpened tool kits, but Lottie wasn’t so sure. A few times the kittens had mysteriously found their way into the utility room, home to the virile Boots, who seemed to be revelling in his new-found family. If Lottie hadn’t known better, she would swear that Boots had perfected a half smirk. More concerning was that, after retrieving the kittens from his lair, their behaviour would temporarily worsen as if the mere presence of Boots had taken them to a new level of rebellion.
Only Archie and his boundless love of animals had provided
some respite for the sleep-deprived adults. In his room he had created a kitten-friendly pen area, which usually successfully contained them for short periods, before they found new and innovative ways to escape. The ever-patient Archie had spent hours entertaining them with various homemade contraptions which he had invented for their amusement. His latest invention was made from a swinging baby chair that he had bought in a charity shop in Fraserburgh. Archie had used various dissected clothing items which included Lottie’s brand-new bra, to form cradles in which he placed the protesting pussies. Ingeniously, once he activated the vibration and rocking settings, the kittens would temporarily calm with various furry limbs hanging limply until they felt the urge to swipe idly at anything passing in close proximity.
Lottie knew that, much like toddlers, the kittens would eventually grow out of their destructive ways. Nevertheless, the constant soiling meant her love for Boots’ offspring was wearing thinner on a daily basis. She was also worried about the prospect of finding a cat-sitter for their upcoming trip to Paris, and she remained determined to track Pru down and get her to resume her grandparenting responsibilities. After several failed attempts to get Pru to answer her door, Lottie realised that her last resort would be to go to the mindfulness class that Pru was running that evening. She was working on the presumption that Pru would never miss her own group, still known as Pru’s Group.
Lottie marvelled at Pru’s ability to avoid an alternative name for the group, even though she went through the pretence of canvassing the opinion of the attendees at every meeting. When she had mentioned this to Alice recently, she had been met with some playful scorn,
“Oh Lots, you really are naïve sometimes! Of course it’s still called Pru’s Group, she’s never going to relinquish her control of the group. It’s a dictatorship! I understand you’ve made some great friends there but meet them outside the group and save yourself the trauma.”
Lottie sighed, and aware that this meeting was likely to involve a lot of lying around and breathing on the draughty village hall floor, she grabbed a tatty tartan blanket on her way out.
She arrived in the car park where she spotted Pru’s Citroen 2CV and felt smug that her determination had been rewarded.
“Gotcha!” she said, as she strode purposefully through the main doors.
She encountered Mim in the main entrance and they exchanged brief eye contact. The Gardener, now unveiled as the link between her son and an international drug smuggling syndicate, smiled weakly before giving an apologetic shrug.
As Lottie passed her, she fought to contain her parental rage at the cheek of the woman. She had had a long heart-to-heart conversation with Robbie after the party, and he had convinced her that he was extremely remorseful about his brief foray into organised crime. After a few unannounced room searches, Lottie felt reassured that Robbie was now on the straight and narrow.
During her rummaging she had discovered a few well-read copies of Nuts magazine, a girl’s hair brush and some moisturiser. Shortly, thereafter the owner of the hair brush and moisturiser had made herself known in the form of Annabel, a young woman who was the epitome of geek chic, and no doubt a contributing factor in Robbie’s return to a law-abiding life.
Lottie had been somewhat surprised at her son’s choice of girlfriend, who did not resemble his Nuts idols, and she had mistakenly mentioned it briefly at breakfast one morning. For her trouble she had received the most scathing of looks from Robbie as he corrected her information.
“She’s a friend that’s a girl, not a girlfriend, duh!”
Lottie smiled at the memory recounting the blush of crimson that had crept up from the base of his neck into his newly bearded face. Aware that her boy was now a becoming a man, she didn’t press for further information, trusting that he would come to her for any advice he needed.
Alice seemed slightly more disturbed by the presence of a girl in the man cave and insisted on a step-parenting intervention to ascertain her age and whether her parents knew of the friendship that was developing. Pleased that Alice had chosen to involve herself, Lottie willingly stepped back and Robbie had reacted in a far less hostile way to the step-parent intervention. After some discussion, an agreement was brokered between Alice and Robbie. Annabel was verified as being seventeen, and provided the door of the man cave remained open during her visits, they were free to come and go as they pleased.
AS LOTTIE MADE her way into the main hall, she was greeted with the sight of Pru’s large and saggy derrière, as she bent awkwardly, unrolling yoga mats into a circular formation. Lottie noticed a large inflatable mattress in the middle of the circle, which she could only assume was Pru’s mindfulness throne for the evening. Balanced on top of the mattress was her feathered cape, several orthopaedic pillows and an assortment of tambourines and other unidentified musical equipment. Pru rose and Lottie quickly averted her eyes. Pru turned to face her giving her a mealy-mouthed grin which didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Well, Charlotte, my dear, what a lovely surprise. I was going to pop in after group to let you know I was back and check on the furry dears. I expect they are quite the picture now.” Without waiting for a reply she went on. “The show was a huge success, huge! I had a lot of interest in my work, and do you know, dearie? I don’t know if it’s because they are more cultured in Edinburgh, but I did sense a real appreciation for the uniqueness of my pieces.”
Lottie struggled to hide her cynicism. “How lovely, Pru, and how many pieces did you sell? Did you have enough with you, as you left in such a hurry?”
Pru’s eyes narrowed as if assessing whether Lottie was mocking her. “Oh dear, you obviously don’t know much about the art world do you? People view work at shows, they don’t come with their cheque books. But I am expecting a lot of follow up business and so I imagine I’ll be busy for the rest of the season. I’ll probably be away quite a lot, so I’ll have to ask you to hang on to the furry dears for a while longer. Their primary bond will now be with you of course, and attachment is very important.”
Lottie was determined not to get side-tracked by Pru’s constant slur on her artistic understanding and the simultaneous shirking of her parental responsibilities. Yet there was a part of Lottie that couldn’t help but admire the stealthy way in which Pru managed to get her own way.
Unable to think of an immediate retort, Lottie managed to stutter. “Well, we wouldn’t see them homeless obviously, although I think their primary attachment is with Sappho, their mother, so wherever she goes is probably where they ought to be.”
Pru blinked and raised an eyebrow. Leaning forward, she grabbed Lottie’s forearm just a little too tightly, and hissed at her. “You’re certainly persistent, aren’t you? Attachment theory, girl. Attachment theory! The primary bond is crucial, and you and I both know that Sappho is not a natural mother. If you break the bond formed by those kittens, you’ll cause them emotional trauma. E-M-O-T-I-O-N-A-L T-R-A-U-M-A!” she spelled it out.
Turning her back on Lottie in dismissal. “Attachment Theory. Bowlby, dear, Bowlby, Look him up!” Covering the length of the village hall with remarkable speed, she cast one final look of
despair at the forlorn Lottie, before barking orders at Mim, who jumped to attention to complete the remaining preparations for the session.
Resigned to her fate as a permanent foster carer, Lottie sank onto the nearest mat and swathed herself in the blanket, which she noticed also had a faint smell of cat urine. Pru took her place on her mattress where she assumed an awkward cross-legged position giving Lottie an unpleasant glimpse of her underwear, which looked both gray and unappealing. Trying to shake the image from her mind, she looked away as Pru hastily adjusted herself before commencing on a speech to the group about the principles of mindfulness techniques.
Despite her initial disinterest, Lottie learned that mindfulness was based on Buddhist principles, a spiritual view she had always admired, which promoted selflessness and awareness of both your own state and that of the world and people around you. Lottie had some experience of meditation, having gone on a day course in her early twenties to learn the art. It had been run by shaven-headed Buddhist monks, both male and female, who wore colourful orange gowns. What had intrigued her was their perpetual state of happiness—all were grinning from ear to ear for the entire day, leaving Lottie to conclude that they had obviously cracked the code to inner happiness and were laughing at those who had not. Despite their cold and slightly drab surroundings, the monks had walked her and the others through the ritual and meaning of meditation, and Lottie was pretty sure she had reached something of a serene state by the end of the day, although her bottom ached for a week afterward thanks to the unforgiving hard wooden chairs. She had declared the meditation day a success—something akin to a mental spa day, and she had vowed to follow the practice to help her through the marital strife she was experiencing at the time. This good intention had quickly gone by the wayside, however, following the arrival of Robbie and the sleepless nights he brought with him. But she was looking forward to revisiting this in the group, and hoped to take something useful from the evening, even if she had not achieved her primary goal of returning the kittens.
