Kittens and Killers

by Diana Xarissa

  “Maybe I’ll stop answering the phone when he calls,” Fenella replied.

  Shelly chuckled. “That’s what I’ve been doing with Gordon, so I can’t even say anything.”

  “How is Gordon?”

  “I have no idea. He was traveling nearly all the time before the holidays. He’s rung me a few times now that he’s back on the island, but I’ve genuinely missed every one of his calls.”

  Gordon Davison had been friends with Shelly and her husband for many years. He was a widower, and after Shelly’s husband died, the pair had begun spending time with one another. While Shelly had enjoyed Gordon’s company a great deal, she’d never felt as if she’d known where their relationship was going. Tim had come into her life while Gordon had been off the island for work and it had now been a few months since Shelly had seen Gordon.

  “You should call him back and tell him about Tim,” Fenella suggested.

  “I can’t do that,” Shelly said, blushing. “Gordon and I were only ever friends. I can’t ring him and tell him that I’m involved with someone else. It would be, well, odd.”

  “So you’re just going to ignore him when he calls you?”

  “He never asks me to ring him back. He always just says hello and that he’s been thinking of me, and then says that he’ll try to reach me again another time.”

  “How often did you call you him when you were dating?”

  “We weren’t dating, we were just having meals together occasionally, and I never rang him, not once.”

  “In that case, I suppose I can understand you not wanting to call him now. Does Tim know about Gordon?”

  “Yes, we had a long talk one day about all of our former relationships. His love life has been much more, um, colorful than mine, but we talked about everything, really. I told him all about Gordon and how I never really knew where I stood with him. Tim makes things a lot clearer for me.”

  “That’s good. I just hope you’re happy.”

  Shelly blushed and then nodded. “He makes me very happy, really. I can’t quite believe how well things are going. I’m sure we’re going to have a big fight about something one day soon.”

  “Did you and John fight a lot?”

  Shelly looked surprised and then laughed. “John and I never fought. Oh, we had minor disagreements about things, but we never truly fought. We worked hard on communicating successfully, and I suppose it worked well for us. Tim and I seem to be doing okay on that front as well. Maybe I should stop expecting us to fight.”

  “I hope you keep getting along and stay happy,” Fenella told her. “Now I need to get back to my other house and see how my kittens are doing.”

  “When does the mother cat go back to see Mr. Stone?”

  “Actually, they all have an appointment this afternoon,” Fenella exclaimed. “It’s a good thing you mentioned it. I nearly forgot.”

  The kittens were less than excited about going back into their carrier when Fenella returned to the house.

  “Come on,” she coaxed one who was hiding behind the sofa. “We’re going go see your friend, Mr. Stone. It will be fun.”

  The kitten seemed to consider her words and then wiggled backward into the corner. There was no way for Fenella to reach the animal without moving furniture. She sighed and then got up and headed to the kitchen. Waving the bag of kitten treats, she was soon surrounded by kittens.

  “Here we go again,” she muttered to herself as she loaded everything back into the car.

  “Ah, Fenella, how are my favorite cats?” Mr. Stone asked when she was escorted into his office a short while later.

  “You tell me,” she suggested as she unlatched the door to the first container. The mother cat climbed out carefully and then stood quietly while Mr. Stone examined her.

  “She’s doing very well,” he said happily. “Have you been keeping her and the kittens apart during the day?”

  “She has her own playpen and she really seems to like it in there. The kittens run around the house while she stays tucked up in her pen.”

  “You can let her run around too now, if that’s what she wants. Tucking them all up together at night isn’t a bad idea, though.” He put the mother cat back in her carrier and then opened the second one. Kittens suddenly seemed to be everywhere.

  Fenella managed to grab two of them and Mr. Stone finally caught the other two. It only took him a few minutes to check each one over and then slip it back into the carrier.

  “They all appear to be in excellent condition. They should be ready to leave their mother in another week. Crystal has already rung me to tell me that things went well at the care home today. They’re seriously considering taking one or two of the kittens.”

  “That’s great news. I’m visiting another home with her tomorrow. Maybe that one will take the other two. I’m afraid finding a home for the mother cat might be more difficult.”

  “I’m sure we’ll find something, but if we haven’t by this time next week, she can come and stay here once the kittens are all placed. I’m sure my office staff would love to have a temporary office cat.”

  “I wonder if they’d take her at the Tale and Tail,” Fenella said.

  “That’s always a possibility. You said she didn’t get along with Katie, though. Cats that go there need to get along with other cats.”

  Fenella nodded. The Tale and Tail was a pub that was only a few steps away from her apartment building. It had once been the library of a mansion, but the mansion had been sold and turned into a luxury hotel. The new owners had added a large bar to the middle of the library and opened it as a pub. Books still lined all of the walls and were available to be borrowed. A number of cats also called the pub home, and the room was dotted with cat beds. All of the feline residents had been rescued animals, and Fenella was pretty sure that the mother cat would fit right in, given the opportunity.

  “Good luck tomorrow. I hope they’ll take the kittens, anyway,” Mr. Stone said as Fenella gathered up her charges.

  “Thanks,” she replied. She stopped to pay the receptionist.

  “Oh, there’s no charge for today,” the girl told her. “Mr. Stone has a note here that the animals were rescued and all of their treatment is on him until they get a permanent home.”

  Fenella thought about objecting. She could certainly afford to pay for the animals’ care, but there seemed little point in arguing with the receptionist. She would take it up with Mr. Stone another time.

  Back at home, she let the cats out and then did some cleaning. There seemed to be cat hair everywhere in the house, even upstairs, where the cats weren’t allowed. By the time she’d finished with the cleaning, it was time for dinner. She’d left the mother cat outside her pen when they’d come home, but now the animal was clearly ready for a rest. Three of the kittens were quick to demand to join their mother. That left one kitten racing around the house causing trouble while Fenella ate.

  After dinner, she spent several minutes trying to find the last kitten, but he or she seemed to have disappeared completely. It was too early for her to think about bed, anyway, so she curled up in front of the television. An hour later the kitten jumped into her arms and snuggled down on her lap. After a second hour spent watching something she didn’t enjoy but couldn’t change because the she couldn’t reach the remote without disturbing the kitten, Fenella had had enough. She scooped up the sleeping animal and placed it gently next to its mother. Upstairs, she washed her face and climbed into bed.

  “Here we are,” Mr. Stone said brightly. “One mother cat and six kittens. I knew you wouldn’t mind.” He handed her the carrier. “Have fun.”

  “But I don’t want any more animals,” Fenella protested as the man walked briskly away. She took the carrier into the house and slowly opened the door. Six kittens burst out and began to chase the original four around the living room. The mother cat leapt out and began to shout loudly at Fenella, the other mother cat, and the kittens. In the middle of the chaos, the doorbell rang.

/>   “Just three kittens this time,” Mr. Stone said happily, handing Fenella an open cardboard box. He was gone before she could reply.

  When she put the box on the living room floor, the kittens were already scrambling out. The mother cat jumped out and hissed angrily at the other adult cats. When the doorbell rang again, Fenella didn’t want to answer it.

  “Three kittens, a mother cat, and the father,” Mr. Stone told her as he passed her another box.

  Fenella shook her head as she tried to balance the box. “I don’t have room for any more cats.”

  “Oh, and this is just one cat,” he added, pointing to the carrier by his feet. “But she’s heavily pregnant. I reckon there must be at least five or six kittens in there, but we won’t find out for another week or so, I expect.”

  “I can’t, that is, I don’t have room,” Fenella began. Mr. Stone seemed to disappear in front of her eyes. One of the cats in the box she was holding began to lick her cheek.

  “Oh, stop that,” she said. “I love you all and I’d love to be able to keep you, but I simply can’t. You’re going to have to go to good homes.”

  The kitten made a noise and then began to lick her face again. Fenella shifted the box and then tried to push the kitten away. It grabbed onto her finger with its paws and then nipped at her.

  “Ouch,” she exclaimed, sitting up in bed. The kitten who was sitting on the second pillow gave her an innocent-sounding “mew” and then dashed away.

  Fenella checked her finger, but the animal hadn’t done any damage. “How did that kitten get up here?” she demanded loudly. The words seemed to echo around her in the empty house. She’d lived alone for many years and it had never bothered her, but now she felt unsettled. It was just after midnight and she suddenly missed her apartment, which was safely surrounded by other apartments. She also missed the security guards who monitored the building’s entrances.

  Knowing she’d never sleep until she’d checked, Fenella went down the stairs. Four kittens were huddled together in one corner of the playpen while their mother was sprawled across the middle of the pen. She counted the kittens three times and then shrugged. Maybe she’d only dreamt that one had been in her bedroom, she told herself.

  Falling back to sleep proved almost impossible. The sun was starting to come up when Fenella finally dozed off. Her alarm woke her at eight.

  You have to get up, she reminded herself as she fumbled for the clock. You’re visiting another nursing home. Maybe you’ll be able to offload a few kittens there.

  After getting breakfast for everyone and drinking her first cup of coffee, she took a shower and got dressed. It wasn’t long before it was time to round up all of the animals for the day’s adventure.

  “We’re going to visit more lovely people,” she explained as she tucked the kittens into their carrier. “Some of them may even want to keep some of you and that would be very good news indeed.”

  It didn’t take her long to drive to the other home. Crystal was waiting for her in the building’s foyer.

  “We have a rather different mix of residents here,” she told Fenella as she helped her carry the animals inside. “We have married couples as well as younger residents at this facility. Anyone over the age of fifty-five can apply to live in the community, which includes the terraced flats that you’ll have driven past on your way here. The residents who live within the main building tend to be those who prefer to be part of the community more, but we have very few residents who spend all day every day in the residents’ lounge here, unlike the facility you visited yesterday.”

  Fenella nodded. “I hope there are enough people here today to enjoy the kittens.”

  “Oh, there are always some people in there, and we did let everyone know about the visit, so there will probably be more than normal.”

  Crystal pushed open a door and led Fenella into a large, bright room. There were couches and chairs arranged in several different groupings throughout the room. About a dozen people looked up and Fenella tried to smile at everyone at the same time.

  “This is Fenella,” Crystal announced. “She’s been looking after that stray cat and her kittens since they were found on the promenade.”

  A few people actually clapped, which made Fenella blush. She put the carrier she was holding on the nearest table and opened it. The mother cat walked out and then looked around the room. After a moment, she jumped off the table and headed straight for a couple in the corner. Fenella was temped to follow her, but Crystal chose that moment to open the other carrier. Kittens leapt out and scattered around the room.

  “They’re very energetic,” Crystal said.

  “They’ve been in the carrier for too long,” Fenella told her. “They’ll soon settle.” She crossed her fingers and hoped that she was right. Ten minutes later, the kittens were climbing all over the residents and everyone seemed happy with that. Fenella suddenly remembered the mother cat.

  “I hope she isn’t bothering you,” she said to the woman who was stroking the cat’s back as the cat stretched out across her knees.

  “Not at all,” the woman assured her. “I’d love a cat.”

  “No,” the man sitting next to her said gruffly.

  The woman frowned. “We can talk about it later,” she said.

  “No,” he told her.

  Fenella didn’t want to get in the middle of an argument. “I’ll leave her with you for a while, then,” she said, backing away slowly.

  “I’m Patricia,” the woman said brightly. “Sit down and chat with me for a minute.”

  Fenella glanced around the room and couldn’t find an obvious excuse to use to make her escape. She sat on the edge of one of the chairs and then studied the woman across from her.

  Patricia had to be eighty, judging by her appearance. Her hair was white and the hands that stroked the cat seemed to be crippled by arthritis. The man next to her on the couch appeared to be of a similar age. He was bald, with a grey moustache. It would be too much of a coincidence if they turned out to be Howard and Patricia Quinn, Fenella told herself.

  “You didn’t tell us your name,” Patricia said.

  “That loud woman who runs everything told us her name,” the man interjected. “She’s Fenella Woods.”

  Fenella frowned. As far as she could recall, Crystal had only given them her first name. “And you are?” she asked.

  “Howard Quinn. Patricia and I have been married for fifty-four years.”

  “The best fifty-four years of my life,” Patricia added, patting Howard’s arm.

  “How lovely for you both,” Fenella said.

  Howard shrugged. “In our day you didn’t get divorced if things didn’t work out. You stayed together and kept your mouth shut.”

  “Of course, we never had that problem,” Patricia hastily interjected.

  Howard shrugged and then fell silent.

  “My only regret is that we never had children,” Patricia told Fenella. “I prayed for them every single day from the day we were married until the day my doctor told me I’d grown too old to conceive. If I could change anything in my life, I would have liked a son for Howard and a daughter for me.”

  Fenella nodded. What she really wanted to do was ask the couple about Mabel Gross, but there didn’t seem to be any way to bring her into the conversation.

  “How many times have you been married?” Howard asked abruptly.

  “Oh, I’ve never been married,” Fenella blurted out.

  Patricia frowned. “I hope you aren’t living in sin with a man,” she said sternly.

  “I live alone,” Fenella told her. “I always have.”

  Patricia’s frown deepened. “What about your parents?”

  “Sadly, they both passed away when I was in my forties,” she explained. “I was a rather late surprise for them.”

  “Don’t you have a brother or a married sister with whom you could live?” Patricia asked.

  Fenella counted to ten before she replied. “I have four broth
ers, but none of them want me to live with them,” she said. She knew that any of them, even James, would take her in in an emergency, but she couldn’t imagine that any of them actually wanted her to move into their homes. She had no interest in living with any of them, anyway. She was quite happy on her own.

  “You need to be careful, living on your own,” Patricia told her. “Bad things happen to women when they live alone.”

  “I’m quite capable of looking after myself,” Fenella said firmly.

  Patricia glanced around the room and then leaned forward. “We once rented out our home to a young woman. She was murdered in her bed.”

  “I told you not to bring that up,” Howard snapped. “It isn’t something we should talk about.”

  “I was just trying to warn the nice woman,” Patricia told him. “She doesn’t seem to realize the danger of what she’s doing. The island feels lovely and safe, but bad things happen here, too, perhaps rather more frequently than most people realize.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Howard said.

  “My dear, maybe you should look at finding someone with whom to share your house or flat. You’d be better off finding a husband, of course, but I suppose you’ve already tried that.”

  Fenella wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh or slap the woman. “As I said, I’m quite happy on my own.”

  “That’s what Mabel always said,” Patricia told her. “I used to go and visit her, just to keep an eye on her. I was always so worried about her. She always told me that she was happy on her own, right up until the day she died.”

  “That’s quite enough,” Howard told her sharply.

  Patricia nodded. “I can still remember the last time I saw her. I went to get the rent money, but she’d already paid Howard when he’d gone over to repair her kitchen sink. He’d forgotten to tell me, of course, so I made a completely unnecessary journey to the house.”

  “You were always at the house anyway,” Howard muttered.

  “It was my house,” she retorted. “It was my house,” she repeated to Fenella. “My father left it to me when he died. Howard and I were going to sell it, but I’d grown up in that house. It meant a lot to me.”