Please Do Feed the Cat Read Free Page B

ever-present serial killers. If those books were any reflection of reality, every third person you met would be a serial killer and neighbourhoods would be so depopulated they’d have to start killing each other.’
    ‘Oh, well.’ Freddie sighed again. ‘Things aren’t going so well anywhere. I’ve heard the Chick Lit boom has bottomed out. Aga Sagas are off the boil. Urban Edgy is looking over its shoulder. Things are tough in every genre and everyone is looking for the next big craze. Right now, the veering is towards children’s books – but I have the uneasy feeling that they aren’t as easy to do as they look.’
    ‘I suspect you’re right. I wouldn’t know where to start. I don’t even know any children.’
    ‘Neither do I. Unless you want to count Rhylla’s granddaughter, but I don’t think she’s exactly typical.’
    ‘I should say not!’ Lorinda shuddered.
    ‘Never mind, the idea was a non-starter, anyway.’ Freddie slid the clingfilm from a small plate of twig-like objects. ‘Try some Cheese Whispers.’
    Had-I didn’t mind if she did. She thrust her head forward and neatly snapped one off the plate. But-Known was keeping her gaze firmly on a bowl of what looked like miniature meatballs and was not to be diverted by anything less.
    ‘Very nice,’ Lorinda said, surreptitiously brushing a scattering of crumbs from her skirt.
    Impatient with the delay, But-Known crept closer to the bowl of meatballs and patted the clingfilm with a tentative paw.
    ‘Keep your fur on!’ Deftly, Freddie swung the bowl away from the questing paw, pulling off the clingfilm. ‘And let your Mum have first go at it. You want to welcome her home properly, you know.’
    But-Known wasn’t too sure of that, if it meant giving up any goodies. Had-I moved over to stand beside her. Both of them watched Lorinda intently as she took a meatball and bit it in half. They transferred their attention to the remaining half.
    ‘For heaven’s sake, give them one,’ Lorinda pleaded. ‘I can’t stand this.’
    ‘You’ve weakened in your time away.’ Amiably, Freddie gave each of them a meatball of their own. ‘You need to get toughened up again or they’ll make mincemeat of you.’
    ‘Speaking of which, this is delicious. What is it?’ Lorinda reached for another one.
    ‘Minced lamb and rice. It’s one of their favourites.’
    ‘I’m not surprised.’ They were gulping it down, one watchful eye on the bowl, determined to get more before the supply ran out.
    ‘And it’s dead easy. You don’t even have to cook the rice beforehand. Just mix everything together, shape the mixture into small patties and simmer them in the soup stock until they’re done, fish ’em out and serve hot or cold. We can warm these up, if you like.’
    ‘They’re fine this way.’ Lorinda didn’t want to face the scene that would ensue if Freddie tried to take the bowl away from the cats’ anxious gaze.
    ‘Try the chicken goujons.’ Freddie uncovered another bowl.
    ‘You’ve brought so much,’ Lorinda protested half-heartedly. ‘I don’t need to eat dinner.’
    ‘That’s the whole idea. You don’t want a big meal right now, your stomach’s still in a different time zone. Graze-that’s the answer. A nibble here, a nibble there —’ Freddie
blocked Had-I’s lunge towards the chicken fillets, then relented and hand-fed her one. ‘You, too, I suppose. Oh, yes – and you.’ She repeated the process with But-Known.
    ‘Poor Roscoe … ‘Her cats’ greedy enjoyment reminded Lorinda of the less fortunate. ‘How he would have enjoyed all this.’
    ‘When the situation gets desperate enough, I expect Macho will do something.’ Freddie didn’t sound too convinced. ‘Right now, he still doesn’t know what hit him. Hit them,’ she corrected.
    ‘Poor Roscoe knows something did.’
    ‘True, but there’s nothing Roscoe can do about it.’ Freddie shrugged. ‘And Macho is a big boy now, big enough to be in the middle of his