Only the Cat Knows by Marian Babson Page A

everyone again and tell them to cooperate with me.’
    There was a small, quickly suppressed gurgling sound from Nina.
    ‘I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to see Dr Anderson.’ Time to change the subject. ‘I would have liked to beg a ride into town with him.’
    ‘Are you sure you’re feeling well enough?’ Nina’s concerndid not quite mask the quick look she exchanged with Kiki. ‘If you want anything, just speak to Monica. She’ll arrange it.’ With a faint smile, she turned and was gone. ‘You really
do
have amnesia —’ Kiki gave me a cool contemptuous look — ‘if you can’t remember that you’re living in the most luxurious Open Prison in the country.’

Chapter Ten
    She was only a bird
In a gilded cage
…
    The old music hall melody was swirling through my mind when I awoke in the morning. Perhaps I could find a way to incorporate it into the act — in a Mae West-ish sort of parody …?
    With vassals and serfs
By her side
…
    I trilled experimentally.
    The cat gave me a filthy look: she was neither a vassal nor a serf. Furthermore — she moved to put some distance between us — she was not by my side, nor did she intend to be. Yesterday’s perfidy was neither forgotten nor forgiven.
    Yesterday
… No, that was another song. Another problem. What had happened yesterday … and to whom … and why?
    Damn Anderson! Why hadn’t he told me anything? He must know there was a high probability that the two events were connected. How much was Oversall paying him for his ‘loyalty’? His silence?
    I threw myself together quickly, then spent so long waiting that, when Dilys brought my breakfast, it was clearly intended to be brunch. Except that it wasn’t Dilys — and there went that cosy gossip I’d been planning. I’d never seen this one before and she wasn’t the friendly type.
    ‘Good morning.’ She swept past me, set the tray down on the table and was gone again before I could say anything. So much for my plans to find out more about any below-stairs dramas. Oh, well, at least I could eat.
    I
could eat. I lifted the cover to reveal a luscious mélange of fresh fruit — two kinds of melon, strawberries, kiwi fruit, peaches, blueberries, pineapple, grapes — and a selection of miniature croissants and vari-seeded rolls. It all looked delicious, so why was I feeling so uncomfortable?
    I looked away from it and met the furious disappointed eyes. There wasn’t a thing here a cat wanted to eat. I had just added insult to injury.
    ‘Look, I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘It isn’t my fault. I didn’t choose the menu. This is just what they brought me today.’
    A likely story!
She was quivering with indignation. I had done it again.
    ‘You can have the coffee cream,’ I placated. ‘All of it. I’ll drink mine black.’
    Her ears twitched. Not good enough.
    ‘And I’ll see what I can scrounge for you at tea.’ Belatedly, I realized that I had no certainty at all that tea at Nina’s wouldn’t run heavily towards alfalfa sprouts, wheat germ, and strange oddments juiced out of all recognition. Although, I remembered thankfully, Monica would be supplying the tea, so perhaps it wouldn’t be that bad. ‘Anyway, I’ll do the best I can.’
    It was an empty promise and she knew it. She continued to glare at me until I went over to the store of cat treats and opened the most expensive tin of cat food on the shelf. I also shook an over-generous amount of her favourite crunchies into her bowl.
    Even then, she wasn’t letting me off the hook. She preferred people food — and I knew it. She was still staring moodily at her untouched goodies when I left for that tea with Nina.
    Nina was in a better mood, which wasn’t saying much. Ghengis Khan would have been in a better mood than thatbloody cat. I could only be grateful she couldn’t talk. If she could, she’d have shopped me for sure.
    ‘There, now,’ Nina beamed at me, ‘isn’t this nice? It’s so good to have you here again. Just the