Miss Simpson watched with interest as the cat stalked inside and made
for the stairs.
"Ah, good, I'm so glad he's come home safely. I knew he was your cat
and I've been intrigued by his behaviour all evening
"Where . . . may I ask?"
"Oh, at the Women's Institute. He came in shortly after we started and
stayed till the end."
- - - - ~ "Really? What exactly was your programme, Miss Simpson?"
"Well, there was a bit of committee stuff, then a short talk with
lantern slides by Mr Walters from the water company and we finished
with a cake-ma king competition."
"Yes . . . yes . . . and what did Oscar do?"
She laughed
"Mixed with the company, apparently enjoyed the slides and showed great
interest in the cakes."
"I see. And you didn't bring him home?"
"No, he made his own way here. As you know, I have to pass your house
and I merely rang your bell to make sure you knew he had arrived."
"I'm obliged to you, Miss Simpson. We were a little worried."
I mounted the stairs in record time. Helen was sit ting with the cat
on her knee and she looked up as I burst in.
"I know about Oscar now," I said.
"Know what?"
"Why he goes on these nightly outings. He's not running away he's
visiting."
"Visiting ?"
"Yes," I said.
"Don't you see? He likes get ting around, he loves people, especially
in groups, and he's interested in what they do. He's a natural
mixer."
Helen looked down at the attractive mound of fur curled on her lap.
"Of course . . . that's it . . . he's a socialite!"
"Exactly, a high stepper!"
"A cat-about-town!"
It all afforded us some innocent laughter and Oscar sat up and looked
at us with evident pleasure, adding his own throbbing purr to the
merriment. But for Helen and me there was a lot of relief behind it;
ever since our cat had started his excursions there had been the
gnawing fear that we would lose him, and now we felt secure.
From that night our delight in him increased. There was endless joy in
watching this facet of his character unfolding. He did the social
round meticulously, taking in most of the activities of the town. He
became a familiar figure at whist drives, jumble sales, school concerts
and scout bazaars. Most of the time he was made welcome, but was twice
ejected from meet ings of the Rural Distria Council who did not seem to
relish the idea of a cat sit ting in on their deliberations.
At first I was apprehensive about his ma king his wet through the
streets but I watched him once or twice and saw that he looked both
ways before tripping daintily across. Clearly he had excellent traffic
sense and this made me feel that his original injury had not been
caused by a car.
Taking it all in all, Helen and I felt that it was a kind stroke of
fortune which had brought Oscar to us. He was a warm and cherished
part of our home life.
He added to our happiness.
When the blow fell it was totally unexpected.
I was finishing the evening surgery. I looked round the door and saw
only a man and two little boys.
"Next, please," I said.
The man stood up. He had no animal with him. He was middle-aged, with
the rough weathered face of a farm worker. He twirled a cloth cap
nervously in his hands.
"Mr Herriot?" he said.
"Yes, what can I do for you?"
le swallowed and looked me straight in the eyes.
"Ah think you've got rna What ?"
"Ah lost ma cat a bit since." He cleared his throat.
"We used to live at Miss don but ah got a job as ploughman to Mr Horne
of Wederly. It was after we moved to Wederly that t'cat went mis sin'.
Ah reckon he was try into find 'is way back to his old home."
"Wederly? That's on the other side of Braw ton - over thirty miles
away."
"Aye, ah knew, but cats is funny things."
"But what makes you think I've got him?"
He twisted the cap around a bit more.
"There's a cousin o' mine lives in Darrow by and ah heard tell from 'im
about this cat that goes around to meet in's.
I 'ad to come. We've been hun tin' everywhere."
"Tell me," I said.
"This cat you lost. What did he look like?"
all us goin' out to gather in's."
A cold hand clutched at my heart.
"You'd better come upstairs. Bring the boys with you."
Helen was put ting some coal on the fire of the bed-sitter.
"Helen," I said.
"This is Mr er - I'm sorry, I don't know your name."
"Gibbons, Sep Gibbons. They called me Septimus because ah was the
seventh in family and it looks like ah'm goin' t'same way 'cause we've
got six already.
These are our two youngest." The two boys, obvious twins of about
eight, looked up at us solemnly.
I wished my heart would stop hammering.
"Mr Gibbons thinks Oscar is his.
He lost his cat some time ago."
My wife put down her little shovel.
"Oh . . . oh . . . I sec." She stood very still for a moment then
smiled faintly.
"Do sit down. Oscar's in the kitchen, I'll bring him through."
She went out and reappeared with the cat in her arms. She hadn't got
through the door before the little boys gave tongue.
"Tiger!" they cried.
"Oh, Tiger, Tiger!"
The man's face seemed lit from within. He walked quickly across the
floor and ran his big work-roughened hand along the fur.
"Hullo, awd lad," he said, and turned to me with a radiant smile.
"It's 'im, Mr Herriot, It's 'im aw right, and don't 'e look well!"
"You call him Tiger, eh?" I said.
"Aye," he replied happily.
"It's them gingery stripes. The kids called 'im that.
They were broken hearted when we lost 'im."
As the two little boys rolled on the floor our Oscar rolled with them,
pawing playfully, purring with delight.
Sep Gibbons sat down again.
"That's the way 'e all us went on withe family.
They used to play with 'im for hours. By gaw we did miss 'im. He were
a right favourite.
I looked at the broken nails on the edge of the cap, at the decent,
honest uncomplicated Yorkshire face so like the many I had grown to
like and respect.
Farm men like him got thirty shillings a week in those days and it was
reflected in the threadbare jacket, the cracked, shiny boots and the
obvious hand-me downs of the boys.
But all three were scrubbed and tidy, the man's face like a red beacon,
the children's knees gleaming and their hair carefully slicked across
their foreheads.
They looked like nice people to me. I didn't know what to say.
Helen said it for me.
"Well, Mr Gibbons." Her tone had an unnatural brightness.
"You'd better take him."
The man hesitated.
"Now then, are ye sure, Missis Herriot?"
"Yes . . . yes, I'm sure. He
was your cat first."
i ,~ l "I know you didn't, Mr Gibbons, but you've had him all those
years and you've searched for him so hard. We couldn't possibly keep
him from you."
He nodded quickly.
"Well, that's right good of ye." He paused for a moment his face
serious, then he stooped and picked Oscar up.
"We'll have to be off if we're goin' to catch the eight o'clock bus."
Helen reached forward, cupped the cat's head in her hands and looked at
him steadily for a few seconds. Then she patted the boys' heads.
"You'll take good care of him, won't you?"
"Aye, missis, thank ye, we Will that." The two small faces looked up
at her and smiled.
"I'll see you down the stairs, Mr Gibbons," I said.
On the descent I tickled the furry cheek resting on the man's shoulder
and heard for the last time the rich purring. On the front door step
we shook hands and they set off down the street. As they rounded the
corner of Trengate they stopped and waved, and I waved back at the man,
the two children and the cat's head loo king back at me over the
shoulder.
It was my habit at that time in my life to mount the stairs two or
three at a time but on this occasion I trailed upwards like an old man,
slightly breathless, throat tight, eyes prickling.
I cursed myself for a sentimental fool but as I reached our door I
found a flash of consolation. Helen had taken it remarkably well. She
had nursed that cat and grown deeply attached to him, and I'd have
thought an unforeseen calamity like this would have upset her terribly.
But no, she had behaved calmly and rationally. You never knew with
women, but I was thankful.
It was up to me to do as well. I adjusted my features into the
semblance of a cheerful smile and marched into the room.
Helen had pulled a chair close to the table and was slumped face down
against the wood. One arm cradled her head while the other was
stretched in front of her as her body shook with an utterly abandoned
weeping.
I had never seen her like this and I was appalled. I tried to say
something comforting but nothing stemmed the flow of racking sobs.
Feeling helpless and inadequate I could only sit close to her and
stroke the back of her head. Maybe I could have said something if I
hadn't felt just about as bad myself.
You get over these things in time. After all, we told oursflves, it
wasn't as though Oscar had died or got lost again he had gone to a good
family who would look after him. In fact he had really gone home.
And of course, we still had our much-loved Sam, although he didn't help
in the early stages by sniffing disconsolately where Oscar's bed used
to lie, then collapsing on the rug with a long lugubrious sigh.
There was one other thing, too. I had a little notion forming in my
mind, an idea which I would spring on Helen when the time was right. It
was about a -~~t shattering night and we were coming out of the cinema
at knd of our half day. I looked at my watch.
(lock," I said.
"How about going to see Oscar?"
at me in surprise.
"You mean drive on to Wederly?"
about five miles."
lowly across her face.
"That would be lovely. But do you think ~Vhat?"
iNo, I'm sure they wouldn't. Let's go."
pig village and the ploughman's cottage was at the far end a walked
down the path. - -r~ ~tIt"~ll gdL~ ana we A busy-loo king little woman
answered my knock. She was drying her hands on a striped towel.
"Mrs Gibbons?" I said.
"Aye, that's me."
`17 ~T____ T T
-~-m James Herriot - and this is my wife."
Her eyes widened uncomprehendingly. Clearly the name meant nothing to
her.
"We had your cat for a while," I added.
Suddenly she grinned and waved her towel at us.
"Oh aye, ah remember now.
Sep told me about you. Come in, come in!"
The big kitchen-living room was a tableau of life with six children and
thirty shillings a week. Battered furniture, rows of much-mended
washing on a pulley black cooking range and a general air of chaos.
Sep got up from his place by the fire, put down his newspaper, took off
a pair of steel-rimmed spectacles and shook hands.
He waved Helen to a sagging armchair.
"Well, it's right nice to see you. Ah've often spoke of ye to
t'missis."
His wife hung up her towel.
"Yes, and I'm glad to meet ye both. I'll get some tea in a minn it."
She laughed and dragged a bucket of muddy water into a corner.
"I've been washin' football jerseys. Them lads just handed them to me
tonight as if I haven't enough to do."
As she ran the water into the kettle I peeped surreptitiously around me
and I noticed Helen doing the same. But we searched in vain. There
was no sign of a cat. Surely he couldn't have run away again ? With a
growing feeling of dismay I realised that my little scheme could
backfire devastatingly.
It wasn't until the tea had been made and poured that I dared to raise
the subject.
"How' I asked diffidently.
"How is er - Tiger?"
"Oh he's grand," the little woman replied briskly. She glanced up at
the clock on the mantelpiece.
"He should be back any time now, then you'll be able to see 'im."
As she spoke, Sep raised a finger.
"Ah think ah can hear 'im now."
He walked over and opened the door and our Oscar strode in with all his
ol~ grace and majesty. He took one look at Helen and leaped on to her
lap. IVith a cry of delight she put down her cup and stroked the
beautiful fur as the cat arched himself against her hand and the
familiar purr echoed round the room.
"He knows me," she murmured.
"He knows me."
Sep nodded and smiled.
"He does that. You were good to 'im. He'll never forget ye, and we
won't either, will we mother?"
"No, we won't, Mrs Herriot," his wife said as she applied butter to a
slice of gingerbread.
"That was a kind thing ye did for us and I 'ope you'll come and see us
all whenever you're near."
"Well, thank you," I said.
"We'd love to we're often in Braw ton."
I went over and tickled Oscar's chin, then I turned again to Mrs
Gibbons.
"By the way, it's after nine o'clock. Where has he been till now?"
She poised her butter knife and looked into space.
"Let's see, now," she said.
"It's Thursday, isn't it? Ah yes, it's 'is night for the Yoga
class."
~. ~ H'~
Chapter Twenty-four I knew it was the end of the chapter when I slammed
the carriage door behind me and squeezed into a seat between a fat WAAF
and a sleeping corporal.
I suppose I was an entirely typical discharged serviceman. They had
taken away my blue uniform and fitted me with a 'demote suit', a
ghastly garment of stiff brown serge with purple stripes which made me
look like an old-time gangster, but they had allowed me to retain my
RAF shirt and tie and the shiny boots which were like old friends.
My few belongings, including Black's Veterinary Dictionary lay in the
rack above in a small cardboard suitcase of a type very popular among
the lower ranks of the services. They were all I possessed and I could
have done with a coat because it was cold in the train and a long
journey stretched between East church and Darrow by.
It took an age to chug and jolt as far as London then there was a
lengthy wait before I boarded the train for the north. It was about
midnight when we set off, and for seven hours I sat there in the
freezing darkness, feet numb; teeth chattering.
The last lap was by bus and it was the same rattling little vehicle
which had carried me to my first job those years ago. The driver was
the same too, and the time between seemed to melt away as the fells
began to rise again from the blue distance in the early light and I saw
the familiar farmhouses, the walls creeping up the grassy slopes, the
fringe of trees by the river's edge.
It was mid morning when we rumbled into the market place and I read
"Darrow by Co-operative Society's above the shop on the far side. The
sun was high, warming the tiles of the fretted line of roofs with their
swelling green background of hills. I got out and the bus went on its
way, leaving me stan ding by my case. ~ And it was just the same as
before. The sweet air, the silence and the cobbled square deserted
except for the old men sit ting around the clock tower. One of them
looked up at me.
"Now then, Mr Herriot," he said quietly as though he had seen me only
yesterday.
Before me Trengate curved away till it disappeared round the grocer's
shop on the corner. Most of the quiet street with the church at its
foot was beyond my view and it was a long time since I had been down
there, but with my eyes closed I could see Skeldale House with the ivy
climbing over the old brick walls to the little rooms under the
eaves.
That was where I would have to make another start; where I would find
out how much I had forgotten, whether I was fit to be an animal doctor
again. But I wouldn't go along there yet, not just yet . . .
A lot had happened since that first day when I arrived in Darrow by in
search of a job but it came to me suddenly that my circumstances hadn't
changed much.
All I had possessed then was an old case and the suit I stood in and it
was about the same now. Except for one great and wonderful thing. I
had Helen and Jimmy.
OG7
That made all the difference. I had no money, not even a house to call
my own, but any roof which covered my wife and son was personal and
special.
Sam would be with them, too, waiting for me. They were outside the
town and it was a fair walk from here, but I looked down at the blunt
toes of my boots sticking from the purple striped trousers. The RAF
hadn't only taught me to fly, they had taught me to march, and a few
miles didn't bother me.
I took a fresh grip on my cardboard case, turned towards the exit from
the square and set off, left-right, left-right, left-right on the road
for home.
~;~ Local Words: Woodbines short~