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Peter was in the hall closet of the flat he shared with Elias looking for his second favorite hat, when he noticed the leash hooked to the wall, and below it, a small raincoat and booties. He came to the only logical conclusion:
“Elias, you have a dog? I thought they all hated you.”
Elias looked up from his aimless staring, and rolled his eyes, “No Peter, those are for Ms Titch, our cat.”
Peter looked at Ms. Titch, who was spread out on the sofa like a fuzzy pat of butter, white belly in the air, eyes closed, merrily farting away. She seemed know Peter was looking at her and rolled over, her one ear up and her green eyes half closed, she said:
“Mrrp?”
“Are you sure you can walk her?” Peter asked.
“Yes, I do,” Elias said, giving the cat a loving pat on her head. “But can you?”
“I’m sure I’ll be able to.” Peter said, with more confidence than he really felt.
“Will you make a bet on it?” Elias smirked.
“Sure,” Peter said.
“Then it’s settled,” Elias said.
She was originally his cat, Peter thought, she loved him, of course he could walk her. He sat on the sofa next to Ms. Titch, she looked up and gave a surprised, “Brrt!”, when he reached down to tickle her chin, then settled down for a nice purr.
Elias had gone back to staring into nothing, but when Peter saw a smile curled on Elias’s lips and then a quiet chuckle. He got worried.
“Wot?” Peter asked.
“Oh remember that rude pizza delivery man, Justin?” Elias said.
“Yes,” Peter said. “I sent him into the Lonely.”
That asshole, Justin had the cheek to tell Peter to enjoy his meal, while delivering the pizza. Peter had automatically replied: ‘You too’ then being embarrassed, angry at being caught in a verbal trap, Peter had of course sent Justin to the Lonely.
“Well, he’s still alive in the Lonely,” Elias chuckled.
“Really? That tenacious little bugger,” Peter said.
Elias’s grin widened until it nearly split his face.
“That gives me an idea,” Elias said. “For our bet, instead of the usual £300 stakes, we make it interesting… if you win, the Lonely eats Justin, if I win you extract him and send him to my Institute …”
Peter thought and smiled and said affectionately, “Greedy little man, you’re on.”
~
It was an empty foggy night when Peter decided to walk Ms. Titch in the nearest park. He’d had a scotch or two, Elias was working late. So this was perfect really, only she didn’t like it when he put her in the harness, she really didn’t like it. She twisted, squirmed, scratched, and whined. She spent the elevator ride on his shoulder digging her claws in through his jumper. But no matter, he’d attached the leash and he was sure once he pried her off, she’d come along and walk for him.
When they arrived at the park, he once again pried her off his shoulder and placed her on the ground. She sniffed the air, the grass and concrete path. She glared up at him, then sat down on the pavement.
“I don’t think you have quite gotten the hang of this,” Peter sighed.” Come on.”
He pulled on the lead, she didn’t stand, she didn’t budge, He began to walk forward, surely she’d follow? No. She was now lying down and being dragged along behind him, like a furry bowling ball. She’d eventually walk right? He stopped in the gloom and waited for her to get up. She didn’t move an inch. He didn’t want to hurt her. How had Elias done this?
“Rrrrrrrrhhh,” She growled.
“I’m so sorry my titchy-witch, but Daddy has a bet with other Daddy, please get up.” He sighed.
She hunched into a small loaf shape, she was staring at him, pupils slit, her one ear at an aggressive tilt.
“Very well,” He said, “I’m not above bribery.”
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out something wrapped in a clear baggy: a small wedge of smoked salmon, her favorite. He took a chunk of the salmon, making sure she caught the scent and tossed it in front of them. She gave a demanding trill, then got up and trotted over to the salmon. She was licking her chops after devouring the sea meat. When he started to walk again, and warily she began to follow along on the lead. All he had to do was strew salmon ahead of her, like a flower girl at a fish market themed wedding, and she’d come along, pausing to nibble at the lox of course. Of course, he didn’t think they’d meet anyone else at that time of night, it would have been fine. But… There was a man walking the biggest blackest Great Dane, Peter had seen. Ms. Titch saw the Great Dane too. The path was rather narrow here, and as the man and dog attempted to pass them. Ms. Titch’s ear went back, a rising yowl in her throat, she crouched and pounced. Peter hung on to leash, pulling her back, as she strained at the harness spitting and hissing. The dog looked away, it tucked its tail between its legs, before it whimpered and attempted to bolt. It’s owner had the nerve to look offended, worse he …spoke to Peter.
“Hey, keep control of your do-“ the man blinked. “I mean…animal, I mean… cat? It’s scaring Berkley!”
Affronted at the insult to his beloved cat, Peter turned to the man, “No, you take your dog and go away.”
The fog rolled up and covered Peter and Ms. Titch. He held her in the Lonely, she didn’t mind it. When they came out, the man and the Great Dane were both gone. Jolly good, now to walk home. He put Ms. Titch down and turned to leave, maybe after this adventure she’d feel more compliant. She followed along for a bit then, a noise in the dark startled her. She ran onto the grass and scrambled up a tree! Or attempted too, she was still securely in the harness, and Peter let himself be led by her. When she climbed the tree he chuckled.
“Alright Muffin Butt, come to me,” He said as he moved towards the tree about to scoop her up.
Then she shimmed out the harness and bolted straight up the trunk of the tree. It was a pretty tall tree too. She really got up there. He decided to wait, after all if she got up there she’d eventually have to come down.
So he waited and waited and waited. It was fifteen minutes in and she was mewing pitifully from the crown of the tree. He grabbed his mobile, should he dial 999? No they’d laugh at him besides he couldn’t risk making a scene. Oh, she sounded so pathetic up there. If the sailors he’d cast into the Lonely were to see him now, they wouldn’t credit the same callous man who’d doomed them to an empty death was now pacing around the bottom of a tree, looking upwards, cooing to his cat in an effort to persuade her to come down.
“Come on Muffin Butt, it’s not that far down, Daddy will catch you, you got up there just fine, please please, just come down, my little kitty girl…” He pleaded.
She just meowed sadly and it was the loneliest, most sorrowful noise he heard, it should have fed him but it just made him scared. She was trapped up there, a poor thing. He scrolled through his contacts frantically: Jude Perry (big NO), Annabelle Cane (no, it’d cost something dear), Tadeas Dahl (Unlikely he was bitter that Peter had taken Ms. Titch)… he kept scrolling.. He couldn’t call Elias who always had a way with the cat, that would be admitting he lost the bet. Ah, Simon loved Ms. Titch and maybe was in the area so he pressed the button, it was ringing and then:
"What Ho, Simon here ,lovely to hear from you, simply splendid really, now tell me why are you calling mmm-hmmm—.”
“Simon it’s Peter, Ms Titch is in trouble and I really need your help—“ Peter began.
“ —“Ha! I played a bit of a trick on you, this is actually my voicemail! Leave a message at the bleep! Byeeee!" The voice message finished.
Peter sighed in frustration, and hung up.
Then his text beeped
Simon Fairchild
SAW YOU CALLED
WHAT IS IT??!!
Peter sighed again and texted back:
NEED HELP
Simon Fairchild
WHY SHOULD I?
ASK YOUR HUSBAND
Peter listen to his cat mew and furrowed his brow he texted back:
MS. TITCH UP A TREE
CAN’T TELL ELIAS.
Then his phone rang. It was Simon.
“Why didn’t you say so?
Old girl got herself in a bit of a scrape did she?” Simon said.
“Yes, I had a bet with Elias about whether I could walk her, like he does and …. It got out of hand.” Peter said. “Can you get her down?”
Simon laughed a bit and then said, “Alright, you realize I’m not doing this for you though, no it’s entirely for the little lady in the tree.”
Peter cast his mind back to the last time Simon came by for dinner, how Ms. Titch had just crawled into Simon's lap, began to purr and wouldn’t leave, how Simon spent the rest of the evening cooing to her and petting her. He sighed again, “Fine, just get here.”
Peter gave Simon the address of the park and a description of where they were.
About five minutes later he heard a distinctive whooshing sound in the night air, and the noise of an impact. One distressed and startled: “MRrrt!?”
Which quickly gave way to the loudest purrs he’d heard in a while.
Then Simon was speaking gently, “Hullo there darling, was your Daddy a fool for thinking you’d like this? I know, I know… yes come to uncle Simon—” Another chuckle.
Peter looked up, it was dark but he could just about make out the figure of Simon sitting on the branch with Ms.Titch climbing into his lap.
Peter felt a sharp pang of jealousy.
“Now, don’t fret, I’m holding you.” Simon said.
Then another whooshing sound much closer and Simon was standing beside him Ms. Titch cradled tightly against Simon’s shoulder, purring.
As Peter took her from Simon he smelled… lightly herbal.
“Simon, did you change your cologne?” Peter asked.
“Oh heavens no, I just picked up a bit of catnip to make her more eager,” Simon said. “And a bit of lavender to keep her calm.”
Ms. Titch nudged into Peter’s jumper clad chest she’d stopped purring.
“Ah,” Peter said. “You can leave now, Simon.”
“Wasn’t planning on staying,” Simon said. And began to walk in the opposite direction.
Peter didn’t put the leash on her again, walking home with Ms. Titch firmly and securely in his arms. She smelled awful and her boney body seemed to poke at him, but he loved the feel of her steady little heartbeat and her warmth. He got back to the flat and released her. Immediately she leapt off him and scampered up her cat tree. Peter noticed Elias smirking at him from the sofa.
“Right, how much do I owe you?” Peter grumbled.
“Ah, Peter, it appears you don’t recall the terms of our bet. It wasn't monetary…” Elias said.
Peter frowned, his brow crinkled. “Right, the pizza guy.”
Elias watched as Peter faded into mist. Then about ten minutes later reappeared, looking grumpier.
“You released him, Darling?” Elias asked.
“Yep, right in near your bloody Institute, even gave him a business card for the bloody place,” Peter groused. “I am utterly sick to the teeth of people right now. But one thing, how the hell do you walk our cat?”
“Oh that?” Elias’s grin widened. “My beholding abilities allow her and I to have shall we say…a very good understanding of one another.”
Peter rolled his eyes and gave a half smile: “Of course I should have known. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to the Lonely to be alone.”
Elias relaxed and decided to watch his new archive staff; who couldn’t sleep, who was crying themselves to sleep and who was drinking themselves half to death? It was fun for him, seeing who succumbed to what each week. He did this for a while, but about an hour passed midnight he decided to sleep himself. As he walked down the corridor to his bed room he passed Peter’s bedroom (Peter and him have different sleep needs and well, this was far more suitable than sharing a bed) and saw Peter curled under the duvet snoring away, by his head sat Ms. Titch who looked up at him with her green eyes gleaming in the hall light.
“You can’t stay mad at him either, can you Muffin?” Elias murmured.
Ms. Titch blinked at Elias, glanced at Peter and put her head back down, closing her eyes.
With that Elias decided to put himself to sleep, tomorrow was going to be a very busy day.