Chapter 11

"Well, goodness me,"said Miss Wetherspoon, as the cat nestled in Alison's arms and stretched its neck to lick her face. "I've never seen her do that with anyone but June. She must like you."

"I'm Alison Metcalfe,"Alison said, laughing as the cat's rough tongue tickled her cheek. "I work with Miss Blacker."

"Ah, you're a teacher at Graystones. I expect that's it. You probably smell like June. Chalk dust and so forth, don't you know."

At this Alison did burst out into laughter. "Well, I don't know about that, but it's very nice to be given such a welcome."She smiled down at the little cat. "What's she called?"

"Jessica,"said Miss Wetherspoon, with a slight grunt of disapproval. "Rather fanciful name for a cat if you ask me."

"Oh, I don't know,"said Alison, quick to counter any possible criticism of the absent Miss Blacker. "I think it suits her."

"A cat by any other name ..."said Miss Wetherspoon, inconsequentially. "Anyway, she'll be expecting her supper. Would you like to come in?"She produced a key from her coat pocket and opened the cottage door.

It was cold inside. Miss Wetherspoon shivered. "I've got the heating on low, but I don't think it's quite enough. I'll just go and check."

Alison looked down at the little cat, now licking her neck with every appearance of ecstasy. "Poor little Jessica,"she murmured. "Lonely and cold. This is no life for a cat."

Hugging the animal to her chest, she wandered around the room. The furniture was old-fashioned, the settees and armchairs over-stuffed and comfortable, the walls lined with books. It was exactly the sort of place she imagined Miss Blacker living in.

Miss Wetherspoon came bustling back into the room. "I don't think it's working at all,"she said. I can't see a pilot light or anything. It's always the way, isn't it? The owner goes away and all the life support systems break down."

She gave Alison a wintry smile. "I really can't decide what to do. June should have been back on Saturday but she didn't turn up and hasn't called and I know for a fact she didn't take her mobile phone with her."

She was walking into the kitchen as she said this, closely followed by Alison, still clutching the little cat. "I tried ringing her sister,"she went on, reaching into a cupboard over the sink and bringing down a small tinfoil tray of cat food and a bag of biscuits, "but she didn't seem to know anything."

She bent down to retrieve two dishes from the floor and set them on the counter where she began to spoon food from the tray into the smaller of the two. The little cat watched with hungry eyes, following Miss Wetherspoon's every movement. "As a matter of fact,"the old lady said, pausing with her hand hovering over the cat's dish, "she was rather abrupt."

Unable to contain herself any longer, Jessica launched herself at the counter and fell upon the food. "Oh dear,"said Miss Wetherspoon, inserting the last spoonful of cat food into the dish and then gently picking up cat and dish and depositing them both on the floor. "She said she hadn't had any contact with her sister for several weeks and had no idea where she had gone or why she hadn't returned."She pursed her lips in disapproval. "Given that June has practically brought up her daughter for her, I thought that was a rather peculiar attitude."

Alison remembered Miss Blacker talking about her niece - Poppy? Pammy? - neither name sounded quite right.

Miss Wetherspoon began pouring biscuits into the other dish.

Alison felt disoriented. She had come to rescue Miss Blacker but Miss Blacker wasn't there - had never returned. She had gone off on holiday and never come back. Leaving her little cat and her beloved niece. She hadn't phoned or written or got anyone else to contact anyone.

She leaned back against the table and rubbed her hand on her forehead.

"I can't believe she'd do that,"she said at last. "Just go away and not come back. I can't believe she wouldn't contact you."

Miss Wetherspoon placed the biscuit dish on the floor next to the other dish. Jessica glanced at it then went back to devouring the meat.

"That's what I think,"she said, grimacing slightly as she straightened up. "Completely out of character"

"So what do you think happened?"

Miss Wetherspoon shook her head.

"Something must have happened to her,"Alison said, her visions of Miss Blacker falling down the stairs replaced with car accidents, drowning, kidnap, rape. "Do you know exactly where she was going? Her flight details or anything?"

Miss Wetherspoon shook her head again. "Only that she was going to Spain and coming back this Saturday. When she didn't come I checked my calendar in case I'd got the date wrong. I don't usually get things like that wrong."She shrugged and Alison thought, I bet she doesn't. I bet everything she does is neatly organised.

"That was why I rang her sister. I thought she'd be able to confirm."She glanced over towards the door and Alison saw a board with various papers and cards pinned to it, including one headed 'IMPORTANT NUMBERS'. Directly below the emergency numbers, the doctor and the vet, was Ruth - 3048952.

"Is this her?"Alison began to rummage in her bag for a pen and paper. She was ready to go round to the sister's house and throttle the information out of her if necessary.

"Yes, dear. But I genuinely don't think she knows anything."

Alison stopped rummaging, feeling deflated.

"What about the other sisters? She has three, hasn't she?"

"She does, but that's the only number on the board."Miss Wetherspoon frowned. "And I don't know how you'd trace them. I believe they are all married. None of them will be called Blacker."

"Then I will call Ruth,"she resumed her rummaging. "Surely somebody must know something."

She found her pen and her notebook and carefully copied the number. What was the niece called. Penny? Polly? Maybe it didn't begin with P.