They both stared at me. Perhaps because I was still in Paul’s old blue pyjamas, with the legs kind of rippling on the floor past my toes. What the hell, it wasn’t like either one of them made much of a fashion statement.
“I got it,” Ted hissed.
“Got what?”
He whipped around to stare back at Mrs. Parnell, who had asked the question.
I swear he made a peeping sound.
“The answer to our troubles, Mrs. P.,” I said. “Come on over. It’ll save you having to lean against my door with a glass in your hand and maybe losing your balance and hurting yourself.”
“No need to be snotty,” she said as she hobbled into the apartment.
“Well,” I said, “let’s have a look in that box. Have we solved the problem?”
Ted flipped open the top, and a small round calico cat hissed at him.
“Perfecto,” I said.
“You found it!” said Mrs. Parnell.
“Not it, but one that looks just like it. What do you think?
Robin will never catch on,” I said “Boy, that’s a relief,” said Ted. “I wasn’t sure I could find one with a face like a pansy. I wasn’t even sure exactly what a pansy looked like.”
“You did well, young man,” said Mrs. Parnell, whipping out a cigarette to mark the occasion. “It looks like the same cat to me. A little slimmer perhaps.”
“Robin will probably attribute that to my cooking. I owe you, Ted. Was it hard to find?”
“My contacts at the Humane Society paid off. You’re absolutely sure Robin won’t catch on? She was pretty ticked off about the restaurant. I wouldn’t want to have another strike against me.”
“Let’s show a little backbone here.”
I thought I’d calmed him down, but he still jumped at the sound of the doorbell.
“You get a lot of company, for a Sunday morning.”
Robin’s voice chirped through the intercom and silenced us. By the time she arrived at the apartment, we were all sitting stiffly around the living room, trying to look like we had nothing to do with any conspiracy.
“Hello-o,” she called pushing open the front door. “Here kitties.”
“Robin,” I said, “this is great. How did you get here? Do you feel well enough to drive?”
“Brooke dropped me off. She had somewhere urgent to go.”
Kitties appeared from everywhere, showing great interest in Robin. She scratched behind their ears and snuggled up to them. The grey one, the black and white one, the Persian, the ginger. She looked at the little calico with surprise.
“Aren’t you cute,” she said. “Who are you? Don’t tell me that Camilla finally broke down and got a pet.”
My throat felt very, very dry as I said, “That’s your little calico cat, Robin.”
She stared at me, astounded.
“That’s not my cat.”
“Of course, it is,” I told her firmly.
Robin’s voice went up a notch. “This is not my cat. I know my cats, and this is not one of them. Where is my calico cat, Camilla?”
I blundered on. “Perhaps, Robin, the effects of your recent…”
“Enough bullshit. Has something happened to Myrtle?”
She looked around just in time to see Ted and Mrs. P. exchanging looks that any jury in the world would accept as a sure sign of guilt.
“Not really,” I said.
“Then where is she?”
“She is not here right now. However, I’m certain she’ll be back shortly. In the meantime, this lovely creature will permit you to return home with five cats.”
“You tried to trick me, didn’t you?
“Certainly not.”
“And you,” she said, turning to Ted, “were you in on this duplicity too?”
Ted uttered a strangled sound.
“What he means to say,” I said, “is that he knows nothing about this. He merely came here in response to my request that he help me improve security in my apartment. He’s what they call an innocent bystander caught in the crossfire.”
Robin nodded. At least she accepted that.
“And Mrs. Parnell is an innocent bystander too. Just dropped in for a bit of tea.”
“I should have known you could concoct something so ridiculous all by yourself.”
“I’m not really innocent,” said Mrs. Parnell, drawing off the enemy fire, “I seem to have let your little cat escape. It was not Camilla at all. She wanted to spare you any additional pain. I agree the idea was naïve, perhaps even asinine, but it was well-meant.”
“Robin,” Ted blurted, “I’m not really innocent either. I found this cat and brought it here.”
What is the matter with these people, I asked myself.
“It’s okay, Ted, I understand you wanted to help.”
She turned to me. I raised my chin.
“But you should have known better. You should consider the consequences of the things you do.”
* * *
I was damned glad to be alone when they left, Robin to go back to her apartment, accompanied by Ted, Mrs. Parnell to spy on the rest of the neighbours, the cats to their castle.
I was slumped on the sofa, telling myself I liked the place better without cats anyway, when I had an idea.
“Camilla!,” Richard said, when he answered, “Are you feeling rested or still jumpy?”
“A bit of both. Irritated too. How about if I tell you everything tonight? I really feel like spending some time with someone who won’t lecture me and who will see the humour in my existence.”
“That someone sounds a lot like me.”
“Great. Do you feel like coming here?”
“What time?”
“Seven?”
It gave me something to smile about, and I considered not answering the phone when it rang two minutes later.
The woman on the phone sounded panicky, breathless and far away. A familiar voice, familiar because so many women who have been victims are frightened of being victims again.
“You’ve got to help me. They’re going to let him out.”
“Who is this?”
“Please help me. I’m afraid.”
“I can’t help you if I don’t know who you are.”
“My boyfriend. He’s out on parole. He’s coming after me.”
“There are things you can do. How can I get in touch with you?”
“You can’t. He’ll find out. I need to see you now.”
“Fine.”
“Can I meet you in your office?” She sounded like she was hyperventilating.
Why