Chapter 12

The little cat, having finished the meat, was eyeing the biscuits unenthusiastically. She looked up at Alison and gave a plaintive little cry.

"Can I give her some more?"Alison asked.

Miss Wetherspoon looked dubious. "Well, you can, but there's not much left."

Alison went to the cupboard. There was another packet of biscuits, but only two little trays of meat.

"How often does she eat?"

"Just twice a day. I come and give her her breakfast first thing and then I give her her supper about this time."

"So, if I came back tomorrow with some more supplies, I could give her another one now?"

Miss Wetherspoon smiled, "Of course you can, dear. After all, I'd have had to have bought some more tomorrow anyway."

It suddenly occurred to Alison that Miss Wetherspoon might not be very well off. Perhaps she had been worried about having to buy more food for Jessica.

She refilled the cat's bowl and set it back down on the floor. Jessica gave her hand a lick of gratitude and then turned her attention to the meat.

"What a lovely little cat she is!"Alison exclaimed. "It seems such a shame to leave her all on her own like this."

"I know,"Miss Wetherspoon said, with a small sigh. "But I have two very aggressive Siamese and I think she'd be even more unhappy at my place."

"I could take her,"Alison said, rather too quickly, aware she sounded over eager. "Sorry, you don't know me. I could be anyone."

Miss Wetherspoon regarded her, head on one side, then smiled. "No, I'm sure you're who you say you are, but I ought to check, I suppose. Do you know Jean Harris?"

"Of course I do. She's Head of the English Department."

"Well, we could go over to my place and have a cup of tea while I ring her and then we'll come back and you can take Jessica home. You can leave your address and telephone number and I'll leave a note for June. I must say it'll be something of a relief. She's such a sociable little thing. I don't like leaving her alone for so long."

Half an hour later Alison set off down the path to her car with Jessica in a cat carrier and holding a carrier bag filled with what remained of the food. In her handbag was the note with Ruth's telephone number to which she had added those of Miss Wetherspoon and the vet.

Miss Wetherspoon followed on behind carrying Jessica's bed and her toys.

"By the way,"she said, sticking her head through the window just before Alison set off. "I've just had a thought. Patsy will know."Alison frowned. Patsy? Yes, of course, the niece.

"Sorry."She shook her head. "Patsy will know what?"

"She'll know exactly where June went and when she was due back. She's like a daughter to her. More so than to her own mother, I'd say."She gave a loud sniff.

Alison brightened up. "Can you get in touch with her?"

"Easier for you than me, dear. She goes to Graystones."

Of course she did. Miss Blacker had said so. In the juniors. In fact, she seemed to remember her saying she regularly looked after the child after school.

"I'll find her. She'll be in the juniors. You don't happen to know her surname, do you?"

"Well, I only know her as Patsy. I imagine it's short for Patricia. And her surname is - just a minute -."She stood for a moment with her eyes closed. "Owen - like the war poet."

"Thank you"Alison beamed at the old lady. "I'll find out what I can and ring you tomorrow."

"Thank you, my dear."The old lady's eyes were very bright. "I've been so worried."

~*~

The little cat was a great success.

Alison had experienced a few qualms on the way home. It had not occurred to her to ask her mother how she felt about it before agreeing to take care of the little animal. But she need not have worried. Before she could launch into protestations about keeping her in her room and dealing with everything herself, her mother had opened the cat box and snatched up Jessica.

"What a lovely little cat!"she exclaimed, pressing Jessica to her bosom. "Wherever did you get her?"

"How do you know she's a girl?"Alison laughed, partly with relief.

"She's far too pretty to be a boy, aren't you, Sweetie?"Mum nuzzled her face into Jessica's fur.

"Well, you're right, as it happens. She's called Jessica. But don't get too carried away. I'm just looking after her for a friend."

Alison put the kettle on and made the tea while she filled her mother in on the events of the day.

Her mother tutted at the unreasonable attitude of the Weasel, drew in her breath sharply at Alison's rebellious speech, said "Good for you,"when Alison told her how she'd tracked down Miss Blacker's address and then looked completely baffled at her colleague's disappearance.

"But why would she stay in Spain?"she asked, putting Jessica down, who was beginning to struggle. "It doesn't make any sense."

"No,"Alison said, with a sigh, "it doesn't. It doesn't make any sense at all. I'm going to try and find out more tomorrow. But I can't help feeling something has happened to her."

She spent the rest of the evening catching up with her marking, but she kept being distracted by thoughts of Miss Blacker, and by the little cat, who was putting on a marvellous performance for her parents - jumping up and pirouetting in the air after the length of wool her mother was dangling for her, chasing all over the room after a piece of screwed-up paper. Alison felt a stab of jealousy, but Jessica paused and looked at her with a slightly worried expression, as if to say, "Am I doing all right? Is this what you want me to do?"and Alison laughed aloud and went back to her books.