Oh, Milly!

by Roberto Rabaiotti

  “Oh, no! Why? What happened?”

  Tom sought out Milly with a murderous expression reminiscent of Cruella de Vil. She had returned to the kitchen and was sitting a short distance away gazing up at her owners without a care in the world.

  “It’s all her fault.”

  “How come?”

  Deep down, Jill knew the answer.

  “I was late for work again. It was the fifth time, they said, so clearly they’ve been keeping count. Last summer, when I left her outside for the day, if you remember, and missed my train, they gave me a written warning. I didn’t tell you ’cos I didn’t want to worry you but the situation had got serious. Then this morning just after you left, of all the mornings, when we had an important meeting scheduled for nine o’clock sharp with the managing director, Milly escaped when I was throwing some crumbs out for the birds. Because it was cold, I didn’t want to leave her outside, but it took me twenty minutes to get her back in. I missed the train by a nanosecond but it was enough for me to arrive a half hour late. They called me in and that was it, I was on my bike.”

  Jill was stunned, momentarily lost for words before uttering a croaky, “I’m so sorry.” She welled up, clasping Tom’s hand more firmly. He smiled back, his eyes misting, and they hugged each other. Their embrace was soon broken, however, when Milly sprang up onto the table and clumsily toppled over the champagne flute which was serving as a temporary receptacle for the single red rose Tom had bought Jill the day before. She was determined to get her tickle.

  “Oh, for crying out loud, Milly, why don’t you go away?”

  A furious Tom swiped at her and she flew a few feet onto the kitchen floor. Milly hissed back at him with all the venom she could muster, her hair on end. An equally furious Jill grabbed a tea towel to mop up the water from the table and from her jacket and skirt.

  “Hey! What’s that for? It’s not my fault you put the rose in such a stupid glass. What’s up with you two today, anyway? I only want my usual tickle and can’t you see my bowl is empty? I hope you’re not going to be like this all night.”

  Tom gave Milly a look that could freeze a furnace and for a moment she thought he was going to strike her again. She crept under a chair and kept a fixed eye on him.

  “This is all your fault, Milly, you horrible little thing. I’ve lost my job because of you. All you’re interested in is yourself. No wonder no one likes you.”

  “Okay, Tom, let’s calm down.”

  Jill returned to her seat and clasped his forearm, fearful that he might actually get up and hit Milly again.

  “What’s done is done and having a go at Milly, however much she deserves it, won’t change a thing.”

  Tom took a deep breath in an effort to relax. He took a second breath.

  “I suppose you’re right, Jill.”

  He looked away from Milly and focused on his cold mug of tea for no other reason than it was in front of him. Milly relaxed, too, but thought it better to let the tension ease. She left the kitchen and made for her hair-strewn blanket on the sofa. It crossed her mind to run away but she had nowhere warm and comfortable to go to where food and drink were in plentiful supply. She decided to ride out the storm.

  “Human beings are so irrational!”

  “Let’s make you another cup of tea.”

  Jill took a couple of steps to the black and white-speckled granite countertop, filled the kettle and placed a tea bag into each of their mugs. While waiting for the water to boil, she took off her jacket and placed it over the back of a chair, removed her black high-heel shoes and slid her feet into her fluffy pink and white polka dot slippers.

  “It couldn’t come at a worse time losing my job, Jill. We can barely pay the mortgage as it is.”

  “We’ll manage. There’s still my salary and we’ll just have to tighten our belts until you find a new one. I’m sure it won’t take long.”

  The water having boiled, Jill filled the two mugs, replaced the kettle and sat down. After tossing their tea bags into the bin, they added milk and sugar and gave their teas a good stir. Jill cupped her hands around her mug, the heat providing a comforting warmth.

  “You underestimate our debts, Jill. We’re maxed out on the credit cards and still owe on the loans we took out to do up the house. I’m really not sure how we’re going to get by. We’re way overextended without my salary.”

  “It’s what we wanted, though, and we’re so happy here. I don’t regret it for a second.”

  “Nor me but it won’t count for much if we get repossessed.”

  “Don’t be so negative, Tom. We’ll work something out. As I said, you’ll get a new job soon, I’m sure of it.”

  “I wish I had your confidence. There’s a recession out there, you know? There’s hardly anything going.”

  “You’re just being pessimistic because of what’s happened today. It’ll be all right, believe me.”

  Jill placed her warm hand over Tom’s and he smiled back.

  “I’ll just have to make sure the next job starts mid-morning and that they understand cats!”

  Tom laughed for the first time that day. Jill grinned.

  “Well, the first economy we can make is Milly.”

  “What do you mean?” Jill looked horrified.

  “We’ll have to buy cheaper brands of cat food and cut down on her milk. It would help if she ate all those expensive tins in the shed but she won’t touch them.”

  Jill puffed out her cheeks.

  “I thought you meant getting rid of her for a minute.”

  “No, I couldn’t do that. She’s a right rascal but I love her to death.”

  “Yeah, same here. She’s got us wrapped right round her fingers. I’m sure she can understand what we say sometimes. Let’s hope she didn’t hear you talking about changing her food. She’ll go mental.”

  They laughed.

  “One thing we can definitely cut down on are her toys. She never plays with them anyway. All she likes is her ping pong ball and catnip mouse. The rest she ignores.”

  “Yeah, you’re right there, they’re such a waste. And perhaps we can give her annual vaccination a miss, too. She looks well enough to me and the vet is so expensive.”

  “Don’t be silly, Tom! She needs it.”

  “Only joking.”

  Jill smiled but wasn’t convinced he was. She clasped Tom’s hand more firmly and looked him in the eye.

  “Don’t worry about the job. I know times are tough but you’ll get a new one soon, I’m convinced of it. Whatever it takes, we’ll get through this.”

  Tom smiled back and embraced Jill.

  “Thanks.”

  They kissed. Just as they did so, Milly slipped into the kitchen, stretched her legs, yawned, and looked up at her owners.

  “What a soppy pair!”

  She turned her gaze to her bowl. It was still empty. Turning back to her owners, Milly put on her grumpiest expression.

  “Hey! Romeo and Juliet, where’s my food?”

  Chapter Five

  Unhappy Christmas

  Tom’s pessimism, however, was proving true. Sitting at one end of the sofa with Milly curled up and snoring lowly on her blanket at the other, he tossed another rejection letter onto the carpet. Christmas was only a few days away but there was little cheer and merriment in his household. Adding to Tom’s dejection were the two other pieces of correspondence that had been delivered that morning; an eye-watering gas bill and a bank statement highlighting an ever-growing overdraft, accompanied by a covering letter from a distinctly unimpressed bank manager. He still had some irons in the fire but none as yet had glowed white hot.

  Even Milly had noticed the change in circumstances. The heating was on for shorter periods and at a lower temperature than usual while her owners rarely went out in the evenings. Her titbits of ham had become infrequent and their quality lower; more gristle and less lean meat. It was also strange sharing the house during the day with a miserable and bored Tom who shuffled around, unshaven
, in an unflattering, shabby dressing gown. She had not helped his mood the previous day when, climbing up the Christmas tree, she toppled it over, scattering decorations and pine needles all over the living room. When moving the armchair from close to a wall to retrieve a bauble, Tom noticed for the first time the shredded fabric and protruding wads of stuffing at its rear which led him to lose his rag with Milly. After initially sitting unconcerned amidst her destruction, wondering what all the fuss was about, an aggressive movement in her direction convinced Milly to shoot up to the spare bedroom and hide under the bed until she felt safe to come out.

  “He’s gone stark raving bonkers!”

  However, Tom was incapable of being angry with Milly for long and, in truth, in his dejected state, was pleased at her being around to keep him company during the difficult weeks since losing his job.

  “Well, Milly, more bad news.”

  Tom smoothed her hair and tickled her ear.

  Milly didn’t move a muscle.

  “Go away, can’t you see I’m trying to sleep.”

  She emitted a deep sigh and low growl. Tom got the message.

  “Ah well, nothing better to do I suppose than to get another application off and finish the Christmas cards.”

  “Do what you like but please keep the noise down, will you?”

  Later that day, as Tom lounged on the sofa watching The Great Escape for the hundredth time, he peeked at the clock above the mantelpiece. Jill would be home soon and, right on cue, he heard the front door open. The closing thud roused Milly and as Jill entered the living room, Milly stretched out full length, yawned mightily, and twisted onto her back. Jill stroked her belly and Milly stretched out a second time, glancing at the television and wondering whether the only programme she tolerated, Top Cat, was showing on another channel. Milly loved seeing TC, Benny The Ball and the rest of the gang run rings round Officer Dibble.

  “Any luck, Tom?”

  It had been the only thing on her mind all day and she was anxious for news. Bending over, she kissed him before he could respond.

  “Yes, plenty, but all of it bad, unfortunately. Just another rejection.”

  Grim-faced, Tom lowered the volume of the television to a murmur and Jill sat down beside him, tickling Milly’s ears. Her eyes shut tight, Milly’s purring grew louder.

  Jill sighed.

  “Don’t worry. Something’ll come up, I’m sure. We just have to be patient.”

  “I hope so, it’s really dragging now. And Sod’s law, the gas bill’s arrived, the last thing we need. It’s astronomical, and to make matters worse, that misery guts of a bank manager or whatever they call themselves these days is none too pleased either. So much for the season of goodwill!”

  Tom shook his head. Stroking his shoulder, Jill retrieved the gas bill from the coffee table and clamped a hand over her mouth to suppress a gasp when she read the amount they owed. Failing to sound confident, she tried to reassure Tom.

  “We’ll get by somehow. Everyone’s going on holiday now so let’s worry about it after Christmas. How’s Milly been?”

  Jill looked down and tickled her under the chin.

  “Fine, today. At least she left the Christmas tree alone.”

  “Good girl.”

  “I’ve left you a few cards on the table to sign and prepared a Delia-inspired pesto sauce for our pasta later. I haven’t been totally useless, you know?”

  Jill smiled.

  “You could do with a shower, though, and isn’t it time you got a new dressing gown?”

  Jill crinkled her nose.

  Tom laughed.

  “Is it that obvious? I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. I’ll have one in a minute and there’s nothing wrong with my dressing gown. Old clothes are like dear friends.”

  Jill shook her head, a thin smile breaking out.

  It was while Jill was conversing with Tom that Milly’s tummy began to rumble. It brought to mind the succulent chunks of salmon in Henry’s bowl from a few days earlier. She had gobbled it down in a flash, with the petrified Henry staring at her from beneath the kitchen table. She would have drunk more of his milk, too, if she had not heard his owner’s footsteps in the hallway, which made her dart back outside through the cat flap.

  “I wonder if Henry’s having salmon tonight. It’s much better than anything I’m getting at the moment. If not, I’m sure there’ll be something equally delicious in his bowl. His owner really spoils him.”

  Milly licked her lips at the thought. Her tail swishing, she stopped purring and leapt off the sofa. She stretched out her front legs, her claws digging deeply into the carpet, and yawned before turning round to face Tom and Jill, her way of telling them she wanted something.

  “What is it this time, Milly? Are you hungry? You know where your bowl is.”

  Having grabbed Tom’s attention, she walked into the kitchen, ignored her food, and sat patiently by the back door, waiting for one of her slaves to follow. With Jill going upstairs to change, it was Tom who did so.

  “I know it’s not your usual, Milly, but it is edible, you know?” Tom puffed out his cheeks and glared at Milly, hands on hips. “So you’d rather go out instead?”

  “Isn’t it obvious, Dumbo?”

  Tom unlocked the door and pushed it open. A rush of freezing air hit him. Milly ignored the cold and took a couple of paces outside, stopped, sniffed the air and looked around before making for the gate.

  “Brrrr, it’s like the Arctic out there.”

  Tom shut the door, knowing that Milly would stay outside for at least as long as it took him to take a shower. He went upstairs.

  Milly scrambled up the gate, stopped when she reached the top, peered over and surveyed the scene. Feeling confident no danger was around, she scrambled down the other side. As she walked along the passageway to the front of the house and the main road, she observed darkness in the windows of Henry’s house opposite.

  “Excellent! Henry’s owner must be out.”

  Milly had just reached the pavement when a sudden movement on top of the dense hedge bordering Henry’s garden caught her attention. Pinpricks of frost on its surface danced and sparkled under the street light. She stood stock still, glaring intently, her heart pounding. To her surprise she realised that the movement was that of her elusive foe, the house sparrow, who was perched on the hedge, its head twitching left and right. Milly couldn’t believe it; she’d only ever seen it in the spring and summer.

  “What are you doing here? Where have you been lurking? I thought you’d be gone for the winter. Perhaps I might not need to raid Henry’s bowl after all.”

  Milly couldn’t take her eyes off it and crouched low, her belly flat to the ground, her rear end high in the air. When the sparrow started to hop on its spot, Milly became concerned that it might fly away, but, luckily, it settled down again and pecked at a leaf, unaware that its old adversary was across the road. As quiet as a church cloister, Milly crept under a parked car and hid behind one of the wheels. She craned her head around the tyre and focused on her feathery supper. A car rumbled past her, its headlights casting a ghostly glow down the street, but Milly barely noticed it.

  “It’s got its back to me. Here’s my chance.”

  Milly raised her hips and her hindquarters began to wiggle. Her eyes were fixed so straight ahead, it was as if she were wearing blinkers.

  “A quick sprint and leap and it’ll be mine, finally! I knew I’d get you one day.”

  At that precise moment there was a squeal of tyre as a car turned into Milly’s street, lit up the darkness and accelerated. Milly was immune to it, however, so absorbed was she in the sparrow. Like a shot from a crossbow, Milly bolted from her position beneath the parked car and arrowed towards the sparrow, but the car was moving at considerable speed and caught Milly a glancing blow on her right rear leg as she just failed to beat it across the road, bouncing her hard, head first, into the low wall in front of Henry’s house. A loud yelp was followed by silence as Milly slumped ra
gged and unconscious on the pavement. The driver of the car had felt a slight bump but was unaware that he had hit Milly and so carried on. The house sparrow was roused by the commotion and observed Milly at the foot of the wall. It thought it better to fly away to the safety of its nest in the attic of a derelict house.

  A few minutes later, Archie, Henry and Jasmine were approaching Henry’s house, having spent the afternoon at Nina’s where Fiona had thrown a Christmas party for the neighbourhood cats. It had been a lot of fun with plenty of food and numerous wrappers, ribbons and baubles to play with. Dexter had overindulged and was unable to take part in the football match for fear of being sick. Henry had tried to impress Jasmine with his skills but he was all left paw and kept missing the ping pong ball with his right one, once when only an inch from goal. Despite his ginger coat, his embarrassment shone through. Fred teased him mercilessly to everyone’s amusement.

  “Even dear old Frisky, God bless his soul, could have scored that one, Henry, and he had an arthritic hip and only one eye!”

  Henry was persistent, nevertheless, and refused to give up on Jasmine. As they neared his home, Archie felt like a gooseberry as Henry and Jasmine walked side by side behind him. On arrival, he would leave them alone and catch up on the gossip the following day. An animated Portia and Nina had implored him to find out what was going on between them, spinning and tumbling over each other in their excitement. It was not long, however, before Archie’s heart sank.

  “Oh, no!”

  “What’s up, Archie?”

  Archie gathered pace.

  “That’s Milly lying against your wall, Henry, and she looks in a bad way.”

  Henry and Jasmine saw her, too, and ran after Archie. They may not have got on with Milly but their concern took over. Speeding cars were the bane of cats’ lives and they were sure that Milly had been struck by one.

  “Milly, Milly, can you hear me?”

  Archie lowered his head and licked her mouth. He could taste blood and noticed that the top right-hand canine tooth had been knocked backwards. Two other teeth on the same side of her mouth were hanging loosely and smeared in blood. Milly did not respond.