Cat Kin (26 page)

‘Mrs Powell! It’s Ben. I need to talk to you.’

The door opened. Light dazzled around a dark figure.

‘It’s okay,’ Yusuf called over his shoulder. ‘He’s come.’

Dazed, Ben stepped inside. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Same as you, I think.’

In the pashki studio he found Susie, Daniel, Olly and Cecile, all kneeling in the Sitting Cat pose.

‘Hey, man,’ said Daniel.

Cecile glanced up, her face anxious. ‘Hiya.’

Ben half-expected them to shout
Surprise!
and throw balloons about. ‘Have you been waiting for me?’

‘Kind of,’ said Olly. ‘We tried every other way to find you. Short of shining a cat-signal into the clouds.’

‘Where’ve you been?’ Daniel demanded.

‘Well, for starters, my home got demolished.’

‘Good excuse,’ Daniel laughed. ‘I’ll use that next time I’ve got late homework. Seriously, Ben—’ He stopped. ‘Wait a second, you don’t mean
it?’

‘Yes. Why?’

‘You don’t—you didn’t live at Defoe Court?’

Ben, totally bemused now, nodded.

‘Oh no. Oh
no
…’

Out of nowhere came the connection. What was the name of the building company that worked for Stanford? Horton and Forrester? Daniel’s surname was Forrester. His father, a builder.

‘That was your dad’s company? Your dad smashed up my home?’

He went for Daniel, who backed up against the window.

‘I didn’t know!’ Daniel spluttered, holding his arms across his face. ‘Nor did he. He was doing his job. How could he know you used to live there?’

‘I was
still
living there. Okay, okay.’ Ben shook himself free of Olly and Yusuf, who were pulling him away. ‘Forget it. There’s no point. Just forget
it.’

A bitter taste stung his throat. He stared at a blank patch of wall. His rage at Daniel quickly ebbed. That wasn’t why he’d come.

‘Did Mrs Powell call you here?’ He looked to see if she was spying from the kitchen.

‘We don’t know where she is,’ said Cecile. ‘She must be back from India ’cos there’s new milk in the fridge. But Jim hasn’t been fed for ages,
he’s half-starved. I gave him some cat food but now he bites if you stroke him.’

‘And Tiffany’s not—’

‘No,’ said Susie. ‘You’ve seen the news?’

Ben nodded.

‘Cecile rang me up,’ Susie went on. ‘Eventually I realised she was really worried about something. So we came here. We thought Mrs Powell might know what happened, but her door
was locked.’

‘But,’ said Cecile, ‘we found the key!’

‘Taped just inside the cat flap,’ Susie grinned.

Ben looked from one to the other, trying to keep up.

‘To cut it short,’ said Yusuf, ‘we got together to work out what’s going on.’

‘We thought you’d disappeared too,’ Daniel mumbled. ‘When your phone was on the blink.’

Ben could feel it, like a weight around his neck. They were waiting for him to explain it all. He knew, they didn’t, and it was torment.

‘Listen,’ he said, ‘if Tiffany is with Mrs Powell, I don’t think she can be in danger. But there’s something you don’t know.’

There was a lot they didn’t know. The threats from Stanford. The bus-roof pursuit. The factory of caged cats. They listened in silence while he told them everything.

‘That place…It really shook Tiffany up. She thought we might save those cats ourselves. She kept asking me to help.’

‘But you didn’t,’ said Daniel.

‘There was nothing we could have done,’ Ben snapped.

‘Maybe she didn’t think so,’ said Yusuf. ‘When you said no, she went to Mrs Powell. Is that where they’ve gone? To the derelict in Albion Road?’

‘They might have.’

‘They’ve been missing three days,’ said Susie. ‘Tiffany would have rung home.’

‘Unless they’re in trouble,’ said Cecile.

There was a long silence. Then someone murmured, ‘Well. There’s no choice, is there?’

They all looked in surprise at Olly, who fidgeted.

‘We’ve…we’ve got to go after them.’

Susie paled.

‘He’s right,’ said Yusuf. ‘We can’t sit here doing nothing. And you can forget about the cops, because by the time we’ve explained everything…I’m
afraid it’s us or no-one, my friends.’

His eyes raked over them. Cecile nodded quickly. Daniel stood up, all four-foot-nine of him, pushed his glasses firmly onto his nose and clenched his fists.

‘Count me in.’

Susie got to her feet.

‘This is your worst idea ever, Yusuf’ she said, ‘but if there’s no other way…’

‘If I think of one, I’ll yell it out.’

Ben felt their stares on him.

‘You can lead us in there?’ said Yusuf.

‘I can’t—’ Ben corrected himself, ‘
we
can’t do this!’

‘Tell me about it,’ said Olly.

‘Listen, if they’ve,’ Ben could hardly get the words out, ‘if these men have done something to Tiffany and Mrs Powell, what chance have we got? You—you can’t
imagine what they’re like. I’ve had John Stanford in my home. He had my father beaten up. And as for the other one…’ The hairs bristled on his neck. ‘I’d do
anything to help Tiffany. But if we go in after her we’ll make things worse!’

‘So your plan is…?’ Yusuf waited. After a minute he punched his palm. ‘That’s settled then. Olly. The gear.’

Olly unzipped the kit bag that lay at his feet and began dishing out black bundles. Susie and Cecile collected one each and left the room. Daniel and Yusuf took theirs into a corner of the
studio. Olly tossed a bundle at Ben. It flopped against his chest and fell to the floor.

‘Your uniform,’ Olly explained. ‘I got them printed, like I said. Only about twenty pounds each. You can pay me later.’

Yusuf and Daniel suited up. In their black outfits, emblazoned with Olly’s striking cat whisker design, they resembled a cross between Japanese ninjas and acrobats from the Cirque du
Soleil. Susie and Cecile reappeared, both changed and wearing their cat face-prints. No. This
had
to be a joke.

Yusuf looked at him quizzically through his own painted face.

‘What’s got into you, Gallagher?’

‘Nothing. Yusuf, wake up! We’re a bunch of kids. We are not superheroes!’

‘
We
aren’t,’ said Daniel. ‘But you are. You and Tiffany. What you can do—’

‘I can’t do anything!’

His voice rang in the silent studio.

‘I can’t,’ he whispered. ‘Not any more. I’ve lost it.’

A motorbike snarled up the street outside.

‘How?’ Susie whispered.

‘There was an accident.’ He could hardly bear to remember it. ‘With pashki. Something happened.’

He told them about the face-off with Mum, the memory rising as a physical pain, a cramp like needles down his arm. ‘And now I can’t do it. The one time I tried pashki after that,
there was nothing there.’

‘What do you mean, “nothing there”?’ Yusuf said shakily.

‘The Mau body, or whatever you want to call it. It’s gone. I can remember the moves but it’s like, I don’t know, trying to write with your left hand. It doesn’t
feel right.’

‘You’re just out of practice,’ said Daniel.

‘It makes no difference. The point is, you think I can lead you on some crazy rescue mission when I can’t. You think I’m a cat warrior with superhuman powers, and I hate to
disappoint you, but I am Ben Gallagher, a thirteen-year-old pinball addict with a headache, and I am not leaping any chasms tonight, tomorrow, or ever again!’

He stood, miserably defiant, in the middle of the studio. Tiffany might be in desperate danger but he couldn’t help her. Nothing they said to him could make him feel more guilty than he
already did.

‘You know what I think?’ said Yusuf at length.

Ben shrugged.

‘I think you’re afraid.’

‘Really? Why would that be?’ Ben exploded. ‘Those men are insane. They
don’t care
how much pain they cause anyone else. Yes, Yusuf, of course I’m
afraid.’

‘No.’ Cecile looked at him in a strange way, as if seeing things no-one else could. ‘Ben, he’s right. We’re all frightened of those men. But you’re afraid of
something else.’

‘Like what? Spiders?’

‘Of what you can do. Of pashki. Your Mau body hasn’t disappeared. It’s just that you’re keeping it locked up. Ben—’

He shut his eyes. ‘Do you really believe I wouldn’t help Tiffany if I could?’

‘Fine,’ said Susie. ‘We’ll go without you.’

‘You won’t come back,’ said Ben softly.

For a moment he thought he’d got through to them.

‘Maybe,’ Yusuf answered at last. ‘But I nearly didn’t come back from that day in the woods. And Tiffany saved me. So if you don’t mind, Ben, I’ll do my best
to return the favour.’

Opening the window Yusuf peered into the night. Olly hesitantly tapped his shoulder.

‘Er, Yusuf?’ he said. ‘Maybe we’d better take the stairs. Just…until we’ve warmed up.’

‘Good idea.’

‘Think about this!’ Ben pleaded. Yusuf ignored him, herding the others into the hallway.

‘We may score only one out of ten as heroes, Benny,’ he remarked. ‘But that’s way better than zero. Oh—one more thing. You might feed the cat while we’re
gone.’

The door slammed behind him. Ben was alone in Mrs Powell’s flat. He sighed. They would come slinking back. As soon as they understood what they were dealing with.

A spider-web tingle settled upon his neck. As if he were being watched. He whipped around. Jim padded into the studio and considered him in a bored, oh-it’s-you sort of way. Ben let out
his breath. He followed the cat into the kitchen and poured dried food into its bowl. Jim jumped onto the draining board to lap the tap.

He bit his lip till it bled. There was nothing he could do.

Aimless wandering took him into a small lounge, with a magazine table, a television and a lonely sofa. He picked up a newspaper but it was several days old. And it was hard to read the smaller
text because… because the curtains were drawn and the room was pitch black. He grabbed at the lamp and light filled the room, revealing sofa, television, table. He froze. Had he just
imagined seeing the words before the light came on? He must have. He couldn’t have been reading in the dark.

His watch told him it was after ten. Mum and Dad would be worrying. He switched on the television.

‘…in St George’s, Bermuda, where hurricane Dianne continues to wreak devastation,’ said a newsreader.

She wouldn’t be on again. It wasn’t a big story, one vanished girl. And what if this had nothing to do with Stanford and Cobb? Perhaps Tiffany really had walked out of a family
argument and hidden at a friend’s house. She was probably back at home this very minute, with hugs and tears and cocoa.

‘East London police are widening their search for the missing schoolgirl Tiffany Maine,’ said the newsreader. ‘This afternoon her family made another emotional appeal for her
return.’

Ben’s finger trembled over the off switch. A young boy, chubby around the face, sat in a wheelchair. He gazed glassily out of the screen.

‘I want, er, to ask anyone who knows where my sister is,’ said the boy, ‘to please tell someone. Tiffany. If you’re watching…please come home. I’m sorry
about what happened. I’ll stop taking that medicine if that’s what you want.

‘I miss you. Mum and Dad miss you. If you come home you can have all my playing cards—’

Ben stabbed the power switch so hard that the television toppled and crashed to the floor. There was a yowl of terror. Jim, who had been lurking unnoticed in the corner, sped past him, brushing
his calf. A violent shock thumped up his leg, as if he had touched an electric fence. The cat vanished into the hall. Ben knelt, rubbing the feeling back into his thigh.

Tiffany. Tiffany had been kidnapped. She was in mortal danger. What in the name of Anubis was he doing here?

He ran into the empty studio. The last of Olly’s pashki uniforms lay in a heap. He pulled it on, heedless of where he flung his own clothes. He glimpsed his phantom reflection in the
window. Something was missing.

Opening the last closed door he found Mrs Powell’s bedroom. The single bed was an unmade mess. In her wardrobe he found a face-print he had not seen before, shaped like a cat’s head,
carved from a single chunk of ebony and set with yellow stones. He daubed the velvet pads with paints from the dressing table and pressed the mould on, wondering at the almost perfect fit. A
picture hung above the mirror. Pasht, the Egyptian cat goddess, flanked by hieroglyphics. Ben could not read them but he knew what they said.

I heed no words nor walls...

He eased the print off his skin. Contours of black and red writhed on his cheekbones, drawn into the Mau pattern like flames up a chimney. He felt the rhythm of the words like a distant
drum.

Through darkness I walk in day…

He lowered the ebony mask and a feline face stared out of the mirror, its eyes glowing with a dim amber light.

And I do not fear the tyrant.

How much time had he wasted? If something happened to Tiffany because of him…Pashki skills he thought he had lost forever were returning fast, his legs and arms
re-learning each movement of their own accord, but anger at himself spurred him on even faster. Only when he skidded down a sloping roof and nearly plunged off the edge did he force himself to slow
down.