Cat Mummy (9 page)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Mabel R.I.P.

IT ALL CAME
out. Gran was very upset, wondering how I could have done such a silly, shameful thing. Grandad started spluttering with laughter. Dad was fussed because I hadn’t said anything the moment I’d found Mabel.

‘I
couldn’t
,’ I shouted. ‘She was dead. We don’t talk about anyone being dead because we all get upset and dead people have to be buried and I couldn’t bury Mabel because she’s frightened of outdoors and she’d hate to be
buried
under the dirty earth with all the worms.’

I thought they’d all be cross with me for shouting like that. Not a bit of it! They looked shocked. Then they all started being very
kind
. Gran sat me on her lap and Grandad said he’d donate his special toolbox as a coffin and Mabel would stay safe inside. Miss Smith said I could maybe paint the toolbox with Egyptian signs so that it would be like a special mummy case. She said the very first Ancient Egyptians used very similar wooden boxes. If I painted big Egyptian eyes on the side of the box then this would mean Mabel could look out, and I could also paint a special door so her spirit could get in and out of the coffin.

‘A special little cat-flap door,’ I said, blowing my nose. ‘That’s right, Verity,’ said Miss Smith, giving me a hug. It was as if she’d stopped being my teacher and was now a member of my family.

Dad had a little private word with her. I couldn’t hear much until right at the end. Miss Smith
said
I was her special favourite in her class. She really did! I wish I could tell Sophie and Laura and Aaron. I especially wish I could tell Moyra. But I know it’s a secret. And I’d hate it if Miss Smith told
my
secret to the whole class.

After Miss Smith went Gran started a very, very long session with disinfectant and scrubbing brush in my wardrobe while all my clothes whirled round and round in the washing machine. Grandad took all his tools out of the toolbox and cleaned it up and sanded it down so it was smooth for me to paint on.

Dad helped me do the painting. It was getting quite late by this time but we all knew Mabel couldn’t wait much longer to be buried. I needed to wear something more sombre than a fairy outfit and all my clothes were being washed, so I took another of Gran’s old sheets and wrapped it round and round me and secured it with a purple chocolate box ribbon. I looked almost like an Ancient Egyptian myself.

Dad and Grandad went out into the garden with the box. They wouldn’t let me come while they were putting Mabel into her new coffin. They wouldn’t let me kiss her goodbye. So I went to the hearthrug in the living room where some of Mabel’s cat hair still lingered. I curled up very small and kissed the soft spot on the rug where Mabel always put her head.

Then Dad and Grandad called me and I went outside. Mabel was safely entombed in the box. There was still rather a smell wafting around the garden but it couldn’t be helped. Dad had already started digging a big hole down by the apple tree at the bottom of the garden. Grandad dug too. I got my old baby spade and dug as well, though I got the sheet a bit muddy. It was getting dark so I couldn’t
see
if there were any worms. It was maybe just as well.

It took
ages
to make the hole big enough. Gran came out and said I should go to bed and Mabel could be buried in the morning now she was safe in her box, but Dad said it was important to have the ceremony now.

At last the hole gaped wide enough for Dad and Grandad to lower Mabel in her box down into it. Grandad let me pick a little bunch of his roses. I scattered the petals on top of Mabel.

‘Perhaps you’d like to say something, Verity?’ said Dad.

‘Dear Mabel, I love you and I’m so sorry I shouted at you. Please be happy in your afterlife and fly back and see if you can visit me. You’re the best cat in the world and I
wish
I could have preserved you as a proper mummy . . .’ I started to cry and couldn’t carry on.

‘But you will always be preserved in our memory,’ said Dad.

Then he trickled a handful of earth onto the petal-strewn box. Grandad did too. They looked at me.

‘I wish we didn’t have to cover her up,’ I said.

‘It’s like planting a bulb,’ said Grandad. ‘Mabel will make lots of lovely flowers grow in the Spring.’

I fidgeted. I didn’t think Mabel was
remotely
like a bulb. I didn’t want her to grow into flowers. I wanted her to grow back into herself
so
I could cuddle her and love her and keep her for ever.

‘Couldn’t we just keep her in her box now?’ I said.

‘
Not
a good idea,’ said Grandad.

‘We have to make sure she’s safe and undisturbed,’ said Dad. ‘But I know just how you feel, Verity. When . . . when your mum died . . . the burying bit was the hardest of all.’ He reached for my hand and held it tight. ‘But we have to do it and there’s no way of making it better. You’re going to miss Mabel terribly. We all are. But gradually it stops hurting quite so badly.’

‘Do you still hurt about Mum, Dad?’ I whispered.

‘A lot of the time, yes. And Gran does. And Grandad. But although I’m sad some of the time I’m also happy too. And you will be as well, I promise. Now let’s say goodbye to Mabel.’

‘Goodbye Mabel,’ I said, and I took a handful of earth and carefully sprinkled it over her.

Then I went back inside while Dad and Grandad covered Mabel up.

Gran was putting another batch of my clothes in the washing machine.

‘Honestly!’ she said, shaking her head at me. But then she gave me a big hug and made me a mug of hot chocolate because I’d got cold staying out in the garden so long.

My bedroom smelt very strongly of disinfectant when I went up to bed. I looked sadly at the empty wardrobe. I wished I could have kept Mabel as a mummy. I wished she was still alive. I wished I hadn’t been mean to her. I felt very sad . . . but I felt peaceful instead of worried.

I didn’t tell Sophie or Laura or Aaron what I’d done when I went to school the next morning. I certainly didn’t tell Moyra. Sophie asked straight away if Mabel had come back. I took a deep breath.

‘Yes. I found her. But she was dead. So we buried her in the garden.’

Sophie put her arm round me. So did Laura. Aaron looked awkward and mumbled that he was very, very sorry. Moyra started asking
questions
, wondering where I’d found Mabel and what she looked like. She asked if she’d started to go mouldy.

‘Shut up,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

Sophie and Laura and Aaron told Moyra to shut up too. So she did.

I was tremendously relieved that Miss Smith didn’t breathe a word about Mabel at school. She didn’t single me out in any way or act like I was her special favourite. She was so just-like-any-old-teacher that I started to feel a bit disappointed, but when the bell went for going-home time she asked me to come and see her.