Cat on a Hot Tiled Roof (47 page)

Stefan is sitting at the kitchen table sipping at a cup of coffee.

  'That coffee's good,' he says.

  'Yes, the coffee's OK but the blinking machine's a pain to work,' Alan retorts.

  Catalina taps his arm. 'It's very simple to use, you just get impatient with it like you do with your computer.'

  Alan shrugs his shoulders. 'It's true. I'm not of the new technological age.'

  'But you're a good gardener,' says Stefan brightly.

  'So', says Catalina as she munches on a biscuit. 'What do you both think?'

  What do we both think? The last month has been a roller coaster of activity. I have been frantic doing work for Rachel and arranging a photo shoot in Mallorca for Greedy George which will take place on my return from Sri Lanka, and in the meantime I've taken on some new writing assignments. Meanwhile, the Scotsman's been flat out with looking after Pep's flat bookings and doing another advert and we're both recovering from organising the fete. So I'm not worried by this latest news from Stefan that we need to submit more detailed architectural drawings to the mayor before the council can reach a final decision. The delay will give Alan and me a small breathing space.

  'I suppose we just submit the new plans and sit tight until we hear back from the mayor.'

  She turns to face me. 'As long as you're happy with that,'

  'I think there'll be no problem with planning permission,' says Stefan. 'But things take time here.'

  
'Poc a poc,'
says Alan dryly.

  'Exactly,' says Catalina.

  Having to wait for the town council to make a decision about the cattery will please Rachel. Much as she has come round to the idea of my eventually bowing out of the business, for now she still wants me around to handle key projects with her. For a time I'm happy with that and it will help pay the bills until other plans fall into place.

  'When is your client George coming over?' Catalina suddenly asks.

  'Next month.'

  'Fantastic! You know I love it when he calls. He's so funny.'

  'He can certainly reduce me to tears.'

  'I'm dying to meet him,' she enthuses. 'Your clients are so interesting.'

  'Deranged, more like it,' mumbles the Scotsman.

  'Oh come on, you wouldn't want to give them all up. Your work's so exciting,' she says.

  'Exciting?' I snort. 'Hardly. Mind you, it does have its amusing moments, I admit.'

  'Anyway,' says Catalina. 'I'll help you when the cattery opens, so you don't need to give up consulting. Why not do both?'

  Why not indeed? The point is, though, that it'll soon be time for a change, which I'm looking forward to. Still, there's no rush and for the moment I'm happy with my lot.

  'So,' says Stefan, bringing us back to the discussion in hand. 'Can we just check theses final architectural drawings before I submit them?'

  He spreads the plans across the table. On cue, there's a scratching at the kitchen door and Minky and Orlando's two heads bob into view through the glass pane.

  'Ah, the rest of the planning committee,' says the Scotsman cheerfully, opening the door. 'Now we can officially begin.'

The house is shuttered and the cats have been shooed out of the house into brilliant sunshine. In the
entrada
our cases are lined up by the door.

  'I hope Catalina will remember to feed the cats,' frets Ollie.

  'Of course she will. Now, have we got everything?'

  Alan is in the kitchen checking through passports and flight tickets.

  'I think so. Let's head for the airport.'

  Ollie picks up his rucksack packed tightly with small toys and tennis balls to give the children of the orphanage and walks out to the car. I take one of the cases and am just heading for the door when the telephone rings.

  Alan groans. 'Leave it.'

  'Should we?' I run into the kitchen and grab the receiver.

  'Hello?'

  It's Rachel.

  'Immaculate timing. We were just leaving.'

  She's breathless. 'I hope you have a great time in Sri Lanka.'

  'Thanks, Rachel.'

  'And I just wanted to let you know that Dannie's sent you a thousand pounds for the orphanage.'

  'My God!'

  'She's gone off to an Indian ashram for three weeks. It means that Mary Anne can actually go on a break with her son.'

  'Fabulous news. Well, I'd better be going..'

  'Just one thing.'

  'What?'

  She gives a little shriek, 'I've got some great news!'

  'More?'

  Alan is gesticulating for me to wind up the call.

  'On the back of the Crown jewels event, you'll never guess who's approached us about doing their PR…'

  She whispers the name into the receiver. I'm too stunned to respond.

  'It would be insane to take on something, or rather someone, that big.'

  'Just think, we'd have the world's press on our doorstep!'

  'It would take over our lives, Rachel.'

  'It would help pay for your orchard. In fact it would pay for your cattery,' she says slyly.

  'Maybe.'

  'Aren't you tempted?'

  I smirk at the disembodied voice.

  'Not today.'

  'What about tomorrow?'

  I laugh. 'OK, let's discuss it when I get back.'

  'Great. Happy landings.'

  The car rumbles out of the courtyard and along the track just as a rotund ball of wool clatters by, hell-bent on reaching our gate before it snaps shut. Another follows in hot pursuit. Ollie peers round anxiously from the back seat.

  'They've done it! They've got into our garden.'

  'Oh no!' I yell.

  'The gate's closed.' Ollie giggles hysterically.

  'It's too late to stop,' says Alan. 'We're not going to miss the plane for some damned ewes.'

  We level with Rafael's
finca
. Alberto is pottering about the yard, examining his new home and wagging his tail.

  'Do you think they belong to Rafael?' asks Ollie.

  'He doesn't have any sheep now. Only lambs,' mutters the Scotsman.

  'So maybe they were just a figment of our imagination?' I tease.

  Alan turns left onto the lane, a smirk on his face.

  'You mean phantom sheep?' says Ollie.

  'Or maybe,' I add with a smile, 'It's simply the triumphant return of the vanishing duo. Ewe Number One and Ewe Number Two.'

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