She was taller than Pen had thought. A good head taller than Pen herself. And her hips were narrow in tight jeans, a shirt tucked into them. It looked like a man’s shirt, thought Pen. Her mouth got a bit dry at the thought of what might be under such a shirt.
“You bastard,” Ash said suddenly.
“What?” asked Pen, jumping back.
But Ash had bent over. She stood a second later holding a wriggling orange bundle.
“Ah, that would be Fabio,” said Pen in relief. “He’s the shop’s cat. Mary spoiled him a bit, but he mostly looks after himself. He’ll catch the mice around the place, but you should open a can for him once a day.”
“No,” said Ash.
“What?”
“No,” Ash said again quite firmly.
Before Pen knew what was happening, Ash was thrusting the cat at her and she had no choice but to take him or risk being clawed to shreds. Once in her arms, Fabio settled and started purring.
“You take him,” Ash said. She looked down at the box of biscuits. “And presents aren’t at all necessary. Feel free to take the box back.”
For a second Pen felt a sting of hurt. Then she remembered that Ash was probably tired and overwhelmed and more thana little confused, so she should be excused for not having the best manners in the world. And maybe she was suspicious of gifts. Pen supposed that Londoners probably were a bit more naturally suspicious.
She decided to smile.
Ash stared back at her.
Pen started to feel slightly uncomfortable and could feel her smile starting to tarnish slightly.
Fabio began to wriggle.
“Ah,” said Pen, spotting a way out. “I can’t carry the box and the cat, I’m afraid.” She took a couple of steps backward. “I’ll have to leave the biscuits here so you might as well enjoy them.”
She felt the door against her back and scrabbled for the handle with one hand, the other arm firmly holding Fabio.
“So, I’ll be next door if you need anything…” she said, trailing off as Ash raised a single eyebrow, then she escaped.
“Looks like we’ve both been thrown out,” she said to Fabio when she got back to the bakery. She lowered him to the floor. “Go and check the flour sacks for mice.”
Fabio looked up at her hopefully and she sighed.
“Fine, I’ll find some food for you. But then you’re on mouse watch, alright?”
He meowed in return and Pen went to the kitchen
Fabio was snuffling down his food when the front door bell chimed. Pen went into the bakery to see Moira and all four of her children, one in her arms, the other three hanging on to her wherever they could.
“Oh, Pen, I’m sorry to just appear like this. But I need to take Lea to the doctor and Mikey’s not home and I thought…” she looked around at her children. “It’ll just be for an hour or so.”
Pen bit her lip thinking about the council catering. “I do need to get up to the town hall,” she said. “I’m catering the council meeting.”
“That won’t be a problem,” Moira said, backing toward the door. “The kids’ll help. They can carry things, they’re no trouble.” Her eyes were pleading.
Pen saw her quiet afternoon of preparing the catering swirling down the drain. But she smiled anyway. It might be nice to have some cheerful voices around. “Alright then, glad to help.”
“Thank you,” said Moira, looking relieved as she disappeared out the door.
Pen watched her go as she handed each child a small cinnamon bun. Just before she turned away from the window, Ash came out of next door, locking the door behind her before loping off easily down the high street.
And Pen was sure that her heart skipped a beat as Ash disappeared around a corner.