Page 17 of Autumn at the Oak Leaf Café
It looked weak and helpless, but Madeline knew how fast the things could run if need be. She gently shifted, shouldering the branches with their cumbersome flowers aside, pulling her knees up in preparation to lunge forwards. When she was certain she was ready, she pushed with her feet, hoping to scoop the kitten up before it had a chance to get away. As she kicked out, however, one paving slab came loose under her feet and instead she scrambled sideways, completely missing the kitten and instead getting caught up in the hydrangea’s branches. The kitten, seeing its chance to escape, scampered past her, actually climbing up over her back to get out from under the bush. By the time Madeline had twisted around, it was out by the patio, underneath one of the chairs.
It didn’t move as she climbed out and brushed herself down, frowning at the muddy scuff marks on the knees of her jeans.
‘Look, if you’re going to make a fool out of me, I’m not going to help you,’ Madeline said, sitting up. The kitten crouched, ears flattening again as it hissed at her. ‘And you can pack that in as well.’
She shuffled forwards. The kitten backed off, but as it did so, she noticed a slight limp on its front side.
‘You can make this easy, or you can make this difficult,’ Madeline said. ‘But you’re not in the best of shape and you’re all alone. I think you need a little help, don’t you?’
The kitten mewed at her again, calling for help yet afraid at the same time. Moving slowly, Madeline twisted around, preparing for another capture attempt. The kitten lowered its head in a gesture of submission.
‘Just stay there,’ Madeline whispered. ‘Just stay—’
As she pounced, the kitten scarpered, racing in its limping way through Angela’s little garden and around the side of the café. As Madeline reached the building’s corner, she saw it, limping towards the park’s northern gate. Beyond it, cars sped past, oblivious to the fragile little life about to come rushing into their midst.
It felt like a lifetime ago, but Madeline had once come third in the All-Devon Cross-Country Championship. She’d got lucky, the girl in front of her slipping up just short of the line to let Madeline squeeze into a medal position, but it was still one of her proudest achievements. It had been years since she’d even run for a bus, but now she channeled her old energy, set herself, and bolted after the kitten as it limped towards the street.
She had just reached the gates when it dropped down off the pavement. Madeline looked up at the groan of an engine, and saw a bus bearing down. She closed her eyes, summoned one last burst of speed, and dashed into the road, reached down and scooped up the kitten in one fluid motion. Then she looked up, waiting to die, only to see the bus lurch to a stop mere metres away. The horn blared, and the driver leaned out.
‘Get out of the road, you crazy cat lady!’ he shouted. ‘Next time I’ll flatten both of you!’
Clutching the struggling little kitten to her chest as she stepped back out of the road, Madeline resisted the urge to shout something abusive in return. At least his attitude was justified this time, she thought. Even if a little sympathy for a poor, helpless kitten wouldn’t have gone amiss. The poor, helpless kitten that was currently trying to claw a hole in her stomach.
‘I think it’s time we had a look at you,’ she said, pulling up the bottom of her sweater to wrap it around the kitten. ‘And perhaps find you something to eat.’
Maybe it understood, or maybe it was the comforting warmth of her hands through the wrapping, keeping it safe, but the kitten stopped struggling. And a moment later, vibrating against her stomach like a miniature engine, the kitten began to purr.
11
Ruby
Jonas had a cat allergy,so Madeline couldn’t take it home. Instead, she carried it back to the café, into the kitchen where Angela had an easy chair in the corner, then sat with the little thing nestled on her lap.
It’s initial fear of her had quickly passed, and now it sat contentedly, purring under her hands as she smoothed its fur with gentle strokes. It was skin and bones, weighing barely more than a handful of rice. As she held it, it licked at her fingers, suggesting it either liked her or was developing a taste for human flesh, but aware it was probably hungry, Madeline carried it around the kitchen while she hunted for something suitable for it to eat.
She remembered reading somewhere that cow’s milk probably wasn’t suitable, but in any case, she had run out, and the variety of sugary goods and leftover pie didn’t feel appropriate.
It was too late to take the kitten to the vet, but the Tesco Metro up on the High Street would be open, so she carried the little kitten over to Dan’s portacabin at the south end of Sycamore Park, where the elderly nightwatchman was watching WWE on a small TV with Milady lying over his feet. As Madeline opened the door and leaned inside, he sat up, slamming one fist into the other palm and brayed, ‘Oooh, tombstone!’ at the TV. Milady lifted her head and let out a weak bark of support.
Dan was happy enough to look after the kitten for a while. Allaying Madeline’s fears that Milady would either eat or terrify it, Dan held the little kitten out to the dog, which gave its head a sniff, then a lick, then a shove with her forehead. Nodding with satisfaction, Dan set the kitten down between Milady’s front paws. Both the dog and kitten looked perfectly content.
‘Nothing to worry about,’ Dan said. ‘Right. Cage match up next.’
An hour later, Madeline returned, laden with kitten milk formula, blankets, and a cardboard box. Dan had to go out on his rounds, so she wrapped the kitten up in a blanket and carried it back across the park to the café. Mixing a little formula with some warm water, she sat in Angela’s easy chair and fed the kitten with a spoon. Then, after tuning the radio to a mellow jazz station, she settled down with the kitten nestled on her lap. She had planned to wrap it up in blankets and leave it in the box overnight, but after it had fallen asleep on her lap, she couldn’t bring herself to move it. Glad she hadn’t drunk too much coffee in the afternoon, she let the little fluffball’s gentle purring soothe her, and before she knew it, her eyes were drooping, and then….
….she awoke with a desperate need to use the toilet. Through the café windows, a grey light was streaming in, marking it as sometime just before dawn. On a worktop beside her, her phone flickered with new messages. Even though she had texted her dad to say she might have to stay at the café “due to an emergency” it sounded like he was pretty worried. She called him, waking him up, muttered something about being sorry and that she’d be over for breakfast.
But where was the kitten? Suddenly panicking, she looked around, but saw no sign of it. Terrified she would never find it among the clutter of the shop, she got up, trying to ignore her aching bladder, and peered under counters and tables. Then, to her relief, she heard a weak mew coming from the door.
It seemed the kitten needed to use the toilet too.
She took it outside, let it relieve itself in a flowerbed, then took it back into the café and put it into the box while she sorted herself out. Feeling much better, she scooped it back out and sat down with it on her lap.
‘We need to give you a name,’ she said.
The kitten gave a little meow, as though to say it agreed.
‘Hmmm, let’s just check,’ Madeline said, lifting up the kitten’s tail. ‘Okay, so it looks like you’re a girl. What do you think would be appropriate? Fluffy? Tinkerbell?’ The kitten seemed unimpressed by any of the options, continuing to purr in Madeline’s lap. ‘How about Butterscotch? Walnut? Or what about … huh.’
