The Last Free Cat (10 page)

Eventually it was done. Amelie added some loud earrings, then she and Raff surveyed their handiwork. They were delighted with it.

“What do you reckon, Kris?” they asked.

Kris nodded. “Radical,” he said. He wasn't going to sound too excited, but I could tell he was looking at me with new eyes.

Raff fetched a mirror.

Oh my God.

Was that me?

It wasn't just the braids, or the new hair color. There was a new look in my eyes, sharper, older, more alive somehow. I'd been so involved in our flight I hadn't looked in a mirror in two days, and now that I did, I was a different person.

Funny enough, I think Mum would have loved my new look. She always loved it when I dressed up, or performed, or made myself special in any way. It wasn't for Mum that I hid myself.

“Now you'll pull off tomorrow night,” said Raff.

“Tomorrow night?” I replied. “What's tomorrow night?”

“Didn't we mention the party?” asked Raff.

Kris's ears pricked up. “What party's this?” he said.

“Friend of ours is leaving,” said Amelie. “She's having a farewell to-do on her farm.”

“Will it be safe?” asked Kris.

“Sure,” said Amelie.

“Will it be all older people?” I asked.

“Nah,” said Raff. “Some of them will be bringing their kids.”

“Teenage kids,” Amelie quickly added.

“Unless you'd rather get going tomorrow,” said Raff.

“No, no,” said Kris. “We'll stay.” Then a thought seemed to strike him. He looked quickly at Amelie, then added, “That all right with you, Jade?”

“You're the boss,” I replied.

Chapter Seventeen

That night I slept on some cushions in the lounge. By now I was so tired I could have slept through an earthquake—but they say a child's cries will always wake a mother, and I was the same with Feela. The sun had only just risen when she began to make the most unearthly mewl, one I'd never heard from her before. There was a meow which meant she wanted milk, a meow which told me she wanted the toilet, and a meow which simply said hello. This meow was longer, lower, and more plaintive than any of those. It worried me.

I got up. Feela was rolling on the rush matting, rubbing her head repeatedly against it. She stretched herself out, flexed her claws, then rubbed her head against a chair leg, getting more and more frenzied. Her mewls were getting louder and longer until I was sure she'd wake the whole flat and the neighbors as well.

All kinds of thoughts and fears came to me. Was this something to do with us moving all the time? Was she so unsettled it had driven her mental? Or how about that toy Raff had given her which she liked so much—did it contain catnip? I'd heard catnip could make cats behave in the strangest ways, like people on drugs. Could it damage her brain cells?

I decided to wake Kris, who was asleep on the kitchen floor.

“Kris,” I whispered. “You'd better have a look at Feela. She's acting strange.”

Kris was none too pleased to be woken up, but at the sight of Feela the trace of a smile came on to his face.

“Do you know what's up with her?” I asked.

“She's got the call,” said Kris.

“The call?” I repeated. “What do you mean, ‘the call'?”

“She's in heat, dimwit,” replied Kris.

Kris bent down and tickled Feela under the chin. This threw her into instant ecstasy, which turned Kris's smile into a long, gentle chuckle. “Y'all right, lovely?” he cooed.

I couldn't help but notice Kris's hands. I'd never realized how long and delicate his fingers were, like a squirrel's. You'd almost say his hands were feminine, except there was hair on the back of them, and I knew how strong they were. Kris seemed contradictory in every way—both beautiful and ugly, male and female, warm and cold. There was such care and softness in the way he handled Feela, yet with me …

Almost as if he realized what I was thinking, Kris withdrew his hand. Feela stood up, went to the window, and mewled back over her shoulder at us.

“No way out there, lovely,” said Kris.

Suddenly I remembered the conversation about ferrets. “If she doesn't mate,” I asked, “could it kill her?”

Kris shrugged. “Dunno,” he said.

“You must know,” I said.

“I don't know everything,” he replied.

“You amaze me,” I said.

“I know that,” he replied. He lifted his sleepy eyes to mine. There was the trace of a challenge in them.

“You look about six with that haircut,” I said.

“Better than having a mental age of six,” said Kris.

“Why?” I said. “What's that like?”

Life on the run had obviously sharpened my wit, and funny enough, I think Kris quite liked it. That was what it was like with him and Mum, sparring all the time.

“I don't think this is a time for joking,” he said.

By now Feela was pacing up and down in front of the window like a caged lion.

“We'd better get Amelie,” I said.

As soon as Amelie saw Feela she fetched Raff, and as soon as Raff saw her he fetched Tom and Gerda who were also staying. The four of them watched Feela with identical open-mouthed smiles.

“This is too good to be true,” said Amelie.

“It is?” I replied.

“You've got a breeding female,” said Amelie.

“Is that unusual?” I asked.

“There's a few around,” replied Amelie, “but most of the free cats were originally Viafaras, so they're all neutered. At a guess I'd say Feela's been sprung from a breeding center.”

“I wonder who did that?” I said.

“No way of knowing,” replied Amelie. “There's been a few attacks on the centers, but they've kept them out of the news.”

“What will happen if she doesn't mate?” I asked anxiously.

“How do you mean?” said Amelie.

“Could it kill her?” I asked.

“I don't suppose it'll do her any good,” replied Amelie.

“What shall we do?” I asked.

“What do you think, Raff?” asked Amelie.

“Thumper,” said Raff, with a wide melon grin.

“I was thinking that,” said Amelie.

“Eh?” I said.

“We know someone with a tom,” said Raff.

This, needless to say, came as something of a surprise. “Will it be safe?” I asked.

“Safe for which one?” asked Raff. The others laughed.

“Thumper's not a very dominant male,” explained Amelie.

“He'll probably run like hell when he sees Feela,” added Raff.

I had to make a decision, and soon. I didn't really want to be saddled with a pregnant cat, but I couldn't leave Feela in this state. It was too late to get her neutered now, and in any case, the vet was not an option.

“When can Thumper get here?” I asked.

“This evening,” replied Amelie.

“But what about the party?” blurted Kris.

“Don't worry,” said Raff. “I'll stay here and look after things.”

“Are you sure, Raff?” said Amelie.

“I'm sure you'll enjoy it much more without me,” said Raff, with a knowing wink.

Chapter Eighteen

The jeepster's wheels squealed around the field for the third time, with everyone laughing but me. Even though we were kilometers from anywhere, I was still afraid of doing anything which might attract the attention of Comprot. But mercifully Tom had had enough of showing off and pulled to a halt, allowing us to get out.

At least twenty more vehicles were in the field, and the thump of music told us a big party wasn't far off. Sure enough, we soon found an open barn full of dancing bodies, with bit-screens on all sides showing living wallpaper off the freeweb. Everyone knew Amelie, who introduced us all. Even though I was dressed to the nines (in borrowed clothes) I didn't want to draw attention to myself, but everyone seemed to know who we were anyway. Since they were all Free Catters, we were soon bombarded with questions about Feela which Kris was only too keen to answer.

I took the first opportunity to hide myself behind the refreshments table, where Amelie was already helping herself from a steaming punch bowl.

“Want some, Jade?” she asked.

“Is there alcohol in it?” I replied. I'm not pretending I had never had a drink, but I didn't like the effect of it and was determined to stay in control.

“Oh, I should think so,” said Amelie, with a grin.

“Just a tiny bit then,” I replied.

Amelie ladled me out almost a full cupful, watching it with hungry eyes. She hadn't been out for a while and I could tell she was really up for this party.

“I hope Feela's all right,” I said, taking a sip.

“She'll be fine with Raff,” said Amelie matter-of-factly.

How fantastic, I thought, to have a boyfriend you could just rely on like that. Or anybody. I glanced over at Kris, who was reliving his fight for the fiftieth time, this time for a girl of about sixteen who looked worryingly impressed. Boys were so immature, I thought, even ones who'd seen the hard side. Would I ever find one I was happy with? I doubted it.

At the same time, there were quite a few good-looking boys at this party—most too old for me, but one or two …

Suddenly, quite to my surprise, I realized that Amelie wasn't the only one up for enjoying herself tonight. Maybe it was the pressure I'd been under, maybe the fear, but the thought of letting go felt like a lifeline. What a fantastic thing it was to dance, to socialize, to have fun! No one after you, no one hassling you, no one out to prevent you simply enjoying yourself!

What was I waiting for?

I put down my drink and was about to ask Amelie if she was dancing, when I realized she'd already gone. Through the misty lights and thumping beats I spotted her, throwing herself into the rhythm. Then, to my complete surprise, I caught sight of Kris dancing beside her, and my world was totally blown off its axis.

I don't know why, but I'd never imagined Kris dancing. He was so cool and self-contained, it was hard to imagine him losing himself to music. But here he was, in a kind of ecstasy, totally at the mercy of the beat, fired with the most amazing animal energy. Just as he'd got into one move, he went into another, then another, then another. I'd never seen anyone dance like it.

Amelie was obviously enjoying Kris's company on the dance floor. She started mimicking some of his moves, so he started making them more complicated, which made her laugh. Kris kept his eyes fixed on her, totally fearless despite the fact she was six years older and had a boyfriend at home.

The more I watched, the more I didn't like it, and the more I didn't like it, the more I realized the awful truth:
I
wanted to be dancing with Kris.

So I did. Not
with
him exactly, but as near as possible. I latched on to a couple of lads not much older than me, and started giving it everything I'd got. If Kris could surprise me, I thought, I could do the same to him.

The trouble was, Kris didn't react at all. Every time I caught his eye he ignored me. It was like I counted for nothing now he was with a real, grown-up woman.

Suddenly the music slowed. Kris was dancing really close to Amelie by now. He said something to her which I couldn't catch, then his arm went around her.

For a moment Amelie seemed to accept the situation. Then, gently but firmly, she removed his arm, said something with a laugh, and went off in search of other friends.

Ha! I thought. That's put a wrench in the works, mister! As if she's going to get off with a stupid kid like you!

And Kris did suddenly look very young and stupid. You could see the confidence drain out of him. He carried on dancing for a bit, then went off to get another drink. But five minutes later he was back, still ignoring me, with a new dancing partner, this time a girl about my age. She was obviously a lot easier to impress, and sure enough, after ten minutes or so, they sat down together.

I tried to ignore it, but next time I looked, they were snogging.

I felt gutted. Utterly gutted. More than that: I felt betrayed. In a strange kind of way, I did feel Kris was mine, that we were tied together, despite our differences. And anyway, I had much nicer legs than her, and it was a safe bet I was twice as brainy.

Still, I made sure no one saw what I was thinking. I danced harder than ever, threw my new locks around, chatted and laughed and even flirted. Right up to the time Kris stood up and made for the refreshments table.

Here was my chance to talk. I grabbed a cup and moved quickly. Despite the fact I was so upset with Kris, I meant to be friendly, maybe swap a couple of witty comments, be like people are when they know there's a secret bond between them.

Then I saw a cigarette in his hand and my plans went right out of my head.

“What are you smoking for?” I said.

The moment I'd said it I knew I'd made a mistake.

“What are you?” said Kris. “My wife?”

For one scary moment that picture came into my mind. I pushed it quickly out again. “It's not clever or cool,” I said.

“Who says I think it's clever or cool?” said Kris. “Maybe I just like it.”

“You won't like it when you're lying in the hospital with your lungs rotting,” I said.

“I can't afford the hospital,” said Kris. He dipped a cup into the punch and swigged it down.

“There's alcohol in that,” I said.

“There
is
?” said Kris. He dipped his cup in again.

“Don't!” I cried.

“What's it to you?” scoffed Kris.

“You'll talk too much,” I said.

“I'm not an idiot,” said Kris.

“You don't even know who she is,” I said.

“Leave it alone, Jade, for God's sake!” said Kris.

My blood began to boil. “Do you know what really pisses me off?” I said.