Solomon's Tale

by Sheila Jeffries

  Jessica dived under the caravan and seized the cake. She reversed into the dark with it, growling, and sat there picking off the crinkly paper.

  ‘Thieving, opportunist moggy.’ Joe slammed into the caravan and I heard him opening the fridge and taking out beer cans.

  I ran after John. Like me, he had refuges where he could hide if he needed to, and I knew where most of them were. I found him sitting on a pile of pallets round the back of Nick’s place, and to my surprise Paisley was leaning against John’s legs, his big chin on the boy’s knee. He was being very loving, offering John his huge paw, and John was talking to him. It changed my attitude to dogs. Obviously John had made friends with Paisley when I wasn’t around. There were even a few healing stars drifting around the two of them, and Paisley was so intent on comforting John that he didn’t even glance in my direction. I was glad that John had a friend, it left me free to go and find Ellen.

  ‘You can’t do that,’ Jessica said, when I told her my plans.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘You could get lost, or run over by a car,’ she said. ‘And I don’t fancy living here alone with Joe.’

  ‘You can have my badger hole,’ I offered, but Jessica pooh-poohed that idea.

  ‘I’m a carpet cat. I don’t do badger holes,’ she said, washing her pink paws vigorously. ‘I dream of living with a little old lady who will pamper me when my work is done.’

  ‘Not if you shred magazines.’

  ‘I shan’t do it. I shall be a model cat,’ said Jessica haughtily.

  ‘I’ll miss you,’ I said, and Jessica came and made a fuss of me, licking my ears and my back, purring her funny little purr.

  ‘So what is your work?’ I asked.

  Jessica thought for a moment. ‘Loving you.’ Then she said sadly, ‘And our kittens. I still miss them. My two boys, and the little tabby girl. Our little girl loved you very much didn’t she?’

  ‘I loved her,’ I said, ‘and I wonder where she is now.’

  ‘Perhaps we’ll never know.’ Jessica’s eyes went dark and I realised then how much the kittens had meant to her, and why she had cried all the way to Cornwall. Although Jessica was a tough cat, she too felt a mother’s grief.

  I was a smart cat. I did a lot of thinking before deciding how best to find Ellen. After my long trip in the lorry as a kitten, I had a deep fear of travelling. I spent some time making friends with Joe’s car, sitting on it when it was warm, and sneaking inside if I got the chance. I scent-marked the tyres so that it would be easy for me to find.

  It soon became obvious that Joe went to visit Ellen in the afternoons while Pam looked after John. Sometimes he had a few flowers or a bag of fruit. He was always gone for about three hours, and when he came back he just sat in the caravan drinking and sleeping.

  I sensed Ellen’s direction. She was north-east of the campsite, and not too far away if I headed straight across the fields.

  ‘No, Solomon,’ said my angel. ‘You would come to the city and you’d get lost. That would worry Ellen. The only way is to be really brave and go in Joe’s car. He’ll take you, and bring you back, but you mustn’t look frightened. Keep a bright face and hold your tail high, and you will get there.’

  So one morning when the car doors were open I crept inside and made a nest underneath a coat on the back seat. It was a scary thing for a cat to do, but I kept quiet and still as Joe started the engine and drove off.

  We were speeding along the roads, twisting and turning, going uphill and down. I longed to look out of the window and see landmarks to help me find the way home, but I stayed hidden. If Joe saw me he might lose his temper. My angel had warned me.

  ‘You’re taking on a difficult challenge, Solomon,’ she’d said. ‘Cats can’t normally go into hospitals. I’ll be surprised if you do manage this, but if Joe sees you, you’ve got no chance, so lie low, and when he arrives you must jump out immediately.’

  When the car slowed down, I figured we were arriving, and I peeped out from under the coat. The hospital was a block of concrete towering into the sky, its windows winking in the sun. Around it were green lawns and interesting trees where I could hide.

  Joe opened the door to get out, and I was crouched, waiting. I slithered out like a snake, past his leg and under the car. I watched his feet in the old grey and black trainers he wore, and the ragged edge of his jeans, and when I saw them walking away, I followed.

  ‘Don’t look furtive,’ said my angel. ‘Put your tail up and look as if you’ve every right to be here.’

  So I did. Joe never looked back and I strutted after him through the car park and along a wide path that curved under the big trees. Autumn leaves were dancing everywhere and I longed to play with them, but I focused on following Joe.

  People started noticing me and calling me ‘Puss’ and ‘That Cat’, but I trotted on, my head and tail high, right through the glass doors and into the echoing hospital. I was going to see Ellen.

  ‘WHAT is THAT CAT doing in here?’

  ‘Who let THAT CAT in?’

  It was hard to keep going with sharp-voiced comments bouncing around me. Luckily there were compliments too.

  ‘Aw. Look at that gorgeous cat.’

  ‘He knows where he’s going. He must live here.’

  I was proud of myself – parading along the corridors with everyone smiling at me. I stiffened my whiskers and stuck my chin in the air. I imagined my coat was gleaming like black silk and that I, Solomon, was the King of cats. Ellen wouldn’t want a frightened, creeping cat, she would want King Solomon in all his glory.

  Still Joe didn’t look round. Oblivious of his surroundings, he strode on through the hospital. Turning left, he headed up the stairs, two steps at a time. His aura was bright so I guessed we must be getting close to Ellen. I so wanted to meow.

  Left again and down a long pale green corridor, my paws skidding on the polished floor. I wished Jessica was there. What a game we could have had, galloping and sliding and making people laugh. Playing penguins.

  At the end of the corridor was a wide doorway into a bright room full of high beds. A nurse with a fierce face popped out of a side door and spoke to Joe.

  ‘Hi. Have you come to see Ellen? She’s waiting for you.’

  Then she gasped as she saw me.

  ‘WHAT is that CAT doing in here?’

  Joe turned and saw me. His mouth dropped open.

  ‘I don’t believe this. It’s – it’s our cat. He must have followed me.’

  I gave Joe and the nurse a rebellious stare. I didn’t even stop but kinked the end of my tail and went swanning through those wide doors on my own. I was going to see Ellen.

  ‘You CHEEKY cat,’ cried the nurse, and Joe started laughing. I heard the nurse calling out, ‘Sister. Sister, we’ve got a cat in the ward.’

  I kept walking, down the row of high beds, looking for Ellen. A well-timed meow did the trick. Ellen sat up on her bed with a squeal of surprise.

  ‘SOLOMON!’

  I must have leaped ten foot through the air from the floor to Ellen’s bed. Then I was purring and purring and she was kissing me and crying and smiling all at once.

  ‘How did you get here? You miracle cat,’ she breathed. ‘Oh it’s so good to see you.’

  We had a few precious minutes before Joe came down the ward with a contingent of fussing nurses.

  ‘Livestock are strictly not permitted in this hospital,’ said the one in the dark blue uniform. I’d never been described as livestock before, but I thought she must be the boss, so I gazed lovingly into her eyes as I cuddled up to Ellen.

  ‘We will have to ask you to take him out immediately,’ said the boss sister, but she had eye contact with me and I could see that she was admiring me. ‘He’s a lovely cat but …’

  Joe was very persuasive. I saw a different side to him as he talked quietly to the nurses, telling them about me.

  ‘He’s beautifully clean, and he’s good for Ellen. He’ll make her better. Look, she’s
got more colour in her cheeks already.’

  ‘Solomon is a healing cat,’ said Ellen clearly from the bed. ‘Please, please let him stay. Then Joe will take him home.’

  The sister looked at Ellen in astonishment, then at Joe.

  ‘That’s the first time Ellen has spoken to us since she’s been in the hospital,’ she said. She stood, frowning for a moment then she made an announcement. ‘I haven’t seen this cat. You’ve got one hour.’ She winked at Joe and walked briskly away, followed by the two nurses who were smiling.

  ‘Thanks. You’re a star,’ said Joe.

  ‘No,’ said Ellen, ‘Solomon is the star.’

  THE MARMITE SANDWICH

  Ellen came home after many weeks in hospital, but she wasn’t better. She wasn’t like the Ellen I knew and loved. Instead of a smile, she had a frown on her face. Her voice was loud and cross, and the sparkle had gone from her eyes. She snapped at John, and even at me. I was upset. I took to sitting in a corner, looking at her reproachfully and trying to find times when I could show her how much I loved her. When Joe was there, Ellen hardly spoke and when he was out she had frenzies of cleaning, or sometimes she just curled up on her bed and slept.

  I asked my angel what was wrong.

  ‘Ellen is homesick,’ she said. ‘And she misses her piano. Music is important for Ellen. It feeds her spirit.’

  ‘So what can I do?’ I asked.

  ‘Just go on loving her,’ said the angel. ‘Her bigger problem is Joe. She has to find the courage to leave him.’

  ‘Well, he’s John’s dad,’ I said, remembering how proud I’d been of my kittens and how sad I’d been to say goodbye to them. At least I still had Jessica.

  ‘But where will Ellen go?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s Joe who has to go,’ said the angel.

  ‘And what will happen if Joe goes?’

  ‘There will be peace.’

  Peace. I sat for a while in the angel’s veil of light, thinking of the times when Ellen had been peaceful. In the garden, playing the piano, playing with John or sitting with me on her lap. Times when Joe wasn’t there.

  ‘Pam will help you,’ said the angel. ‘She is a warrior.’

  My angel was right. That afternoon, Pam came marching over to the caravan with a determined look on her face. She’d seen Ellen leaving to fetch John from school, and Pam was going to have a go at Joe.

  She was wearing stripy mittens and a stripy hat that looked like a bumblebee. She took them off and sat down opposite Joe who was slouched in a corner, a can of beer in his hand.

  I fancied playing with the bumblebee hat, but it wasn’t quite the moment.

  ‘You’ve got to stop this boozing,’ Pam said.

  ‘Why shouldn’t I have a beer? I’ve only had one today.’ Joe glowered at Pam. ‘I enjoy it. Get that do you?’

  Pam leaned forward and wagged her finger at Joe.

  ‘Don’t you get bolshy with me young man. I know what goes on. Eee – the place stinks like a brewery. What did I do when Ellen was ill, Joe?’ Pam didn’t wait for him to answer but got up and wagged her finger right in his face. ‘I came in here and cleared up your cans and bottles. I did that for Ellen, not for you.’

  I looked at Pam’s aura and it had sparks that flashed as she ranted at Joe. Jessica chose that moment to come out of her cupboard. She sat next to Pam, washing and smirking at Joe, while I stayed on the windowsill doing my Buddha act.

  ‘I’m not afraid of you.’ Pam’s eyes burned at Joe but he wouldn’t look at her.

  ‘Give it a rest, Pam,’ he growled, but Pam would not be stopped.

  ‘Poor Ellen. That’s what I say. OK, times are tough but you should pull together – not boozing and lying about the place while Ellen can hardly put food on the table. And look at John. When did you last buy him a decent set of clothes? He hasn’t even got a P.E. kit for school. Oh he’s cried to me about it, and I’m always giving him sandwiches, he’s always hungry. And these cats. They know where to come for a meal. And do you ever say thank you? Do you? Go on, answer me.’

  Jessica was really enjoying this. Her eyes were glitzy and she was washing her pink paws flamboyantly. She was taunting Joe.

  He hung his head and stared at the floor, and in the end I felt sorry for him. Very carefully, I crept onto his lap.

  ‘No purring,’ said my angel.

  Joe gave a huge sigh as if he was a balloon. He began to stroke me with his rough hand and I knew my friendliness was helping him.

  ‘The truth is, Pam–’ he said at last. ‘I know, I do drink too much. I feel so useless. I’m unemployed, and yeah I do lose my temper sometimes.’

  ‘Now you’re talking.’ Pam sat back, looking satisfied. The sparks in her aura subsided and Jessica did something I’d never seen her do before. She climbed up and wrapped herself around Pam’s neck like a scarf, peeping round at her cheekily.

  ‘You daft cat.’

  Joe went on telling his hard luck story to Pam, and my angel said, ‘Everyone’s getting too serious.’ It was time to play.

  On the floor was an empty plastic carrier bag. I crouched and dived inside it head first, making it skid across the floor. I must have looked ridiculous with my tail and back legs sticking out. Then I rolled over and over inside the bag making it rustle. I sat in there like a flat cat and stared out, planning the next pounce. I made myself look wild, with goggling eyes and a loopy loopy tail. I charged out of the bag, skidded down to the bedroom, bounced off the door and dived back into the plastic bag. Joe and Pam were laughing louder and louder as I thought of more tricks to perform.

  ‘Eee,’ said Pam, rubbing her eyes. ‘That’s what we need, a good laugh. That cat knows exactly what he’s doing, don’t you Solomon?’

  By the time Ellen came back we were happy, and Joe had picked up his beer cans and started making tea.

  John burst into the caravan, his face bright and alive.

  ‘Look at my book. I got a gold star.’

  ‘A gold star! Eee,’ said Pam. ‘Good boy.’

  ‘Look Solomon,’ John thrust his school book in front of my face, ‘that’s you.’

  I stared in surprise. John had done a picture of me with my tail up and a big smile on my face. He’d coloured me black with yellow paws and a yellow nose, and he’d done my whiskers in rainbow colours. He’d drawn a big heart next to me, coloured it red, and written, ‘I love Solomon. He’s the best cat.’

  I touched noses with the picture of me, and everyone laughed. Pam pointed at a splodge John had drawn in the air above my head. He’d coloured it pink and gold with tiny stars and a smiley face.

  ‘Who’s that?’ Pam asked.

  ‘That’s Solomon’s angel,’ John said, and everyone looked at each other as if John had said something amazing.

  Joe did try to be good after the telling off he’d had from Pam. All of us tried, even Jessica, but I guess we knew it couldn’t last, and it didn’t. The last truly happy day was the day it snowed.

  Jessica and I went out and played penguins. It was our favourite game now. We’d seen penguins on television, and sat mesmerised, watching them sliding over the ice. Jessica had gone up to the screen and patted one with her paws and tried to catch it, growling with annoyance when she found it wasn’t possible. We’d had a go at playing penguins in our old home, skidding across the kitchen floor on our tummies. Jessica would lie on her side and slide round the edge of the rug kicking it with her back feet as if she was riding a bike.

  So when we saw the sheen of new snow in the morning sun, we looked at each other. Penguins! Out in the snow we went mad, racing and sliding down the slippery path until our paws burned with the cold, and everyone was laughing at us. Later we sat in the caravan window and watched John, Ellen and Joe building an enormous snowman.

  I was OK with it, but the snowman really spooked Jessica. Joe put a baseball cap on its head and lifted John up to put in two black eyes and a carrot nose. The snowman looked alive. Jessica’s neck got longer and longer. She
vanished into her cupboard and stayed there.

  The snow melted quickly, but the snowman’s head hung around for days looking at everyone who passed, especially Jessica.

  We were glad when spring came and the sun warmed everything. Jessica and I played outside in the spring evenings, and in the twilight we hid in the copse and watched the baby badgers squealing and playing.

  ‘They remind me of our kittens,’ Jessica said sadly. ‘I wish we could have some more.’

  ‘We can’t,’ I said. ‘Ellen explained all that to us after we’d been to the vet. She said there were already too many unwanted kittens in the world, and feral cats that don’t have homes.’

  Spring turned to summer, and we might have all been happy if it hadn’t been for Joe’s behaviour. It came to a head one terrible day that was to change our lives.

  It was late summer and John had gone back to school after his long summer holiday.

  I knew that something was going to happen when Joe got up early, shaved his face and put on his black leather jacket. Ellen tipped the money out of her purse and sat at the table counting it. She gave some to Joe.

  ‘That’s for petrol.’

  He didn’t say thank you but looked at the money angrily. ‘That won’t get me far.’

  ‘It’s enough. I need the rest for our food,’ said Ellen.

  ‘How am I supposed to get lunch with that?’

  ‘I made you a sandwich.’

  ‘What’s in it?’

  ‘Marmite. It’s all we’ve got.’

  ‘I don’t want a Marmite sandwich,’ Joe roared suddenly, and he snatched the tinfoil package from Ellen and threw it, splat, on the floor.

  Ellen looked furious.

  ‘You ungrateful PIG,’ she yelled. ‘I’ve given you money, I’ve ironed your shirt and I’ve made you a sandwich. Now you chuck it on the floor.’

  I knew what was going to happen next, and it did.

  Jessica grabbed the Marmite sandwich between her teeth and reversed out of the cat flap with it.

  ‘Serves you right,’ said Ellen. ‘I’m not making another one.’