On the Streets
I was relaxing with an apple core when the girl dropped down into my bin. She was as subtle and as graceful as a great Dane taking a swim with the ducks in St. James's Park. She smelt of dirty water and rubble. One of the riverbank crowd. I couldn't see her too well, but I could tell she was skin and bones. I tossed her the core.
'You look like you could do with it,' I said.
'Thanks.' She started to nibble. 'I heard you were in need of a new partner.'
It was true that my last partner was dead. He'd found a pack under a platform at Heathrow Terminal Four tube and, shall we say, loved more of the girls than he could handle. But what she'd heard was wrong.
'I don't need a new partner,' I said. 'I'm quitting the business.'
She dropped the apple core and stared at me. She twitched her nose and held her front paws in front of her chest like a pet dog begging for a lick of his human's ninety-nine.
'But we need you,' she said.
I scoffed. 'What can I do? You know this city as well as I do, treacle. I can take on alley cats, pigeons, stray dogs, even the damn seagulls. But at the end of the day, they're no trouble. We only have one enemy in this place, and you know what they say about them. You're never more than five tails away from a human.'
She cocked her head on one side and looked at me, her nose twitching. She couldn't see me any better than I could see her. What did I smell like to her? Failure? I turned away.
'There's nothing I can do here.'
'Come with me,' she said.
She jumped up, and then dropped out of my bin. I could have stayed put - I should have stayed put - but something made me follow her. A human screamed as I streaked past her, and ran to join the girl under a parked bus.
'Where are you taking me?' I asked her.
'We need your help,' she said. 'We're not getting enough to eat down by the river, so we're planning a move to Trafalgar Square. Humans there just throw away their food.'
'Trafalgar Square!' Was she crazy, or just plain stupid? 'You know why humans throw away their food there?'
'Of course I do.'
There was a roaring noise, an overpowering stench, and the bus was moving. I whipped my tail out of the way of the wheel, and when it was gone, we ran to an alley. Humans screamed as we passed them. Damn bigots. They'd throw food to the pigeons, but never to us. I told the girl that.
'I know,' she said, taking me behind another bin. 'We're going to take the food after they've thrown it down for the pigeons, and you're going to help us.'
'How can I do that?' The girl was a paving stone short of a square and a trickle short of a fountain.
'There's that new partner I was talking about. All you have to do is persuade her.'
She was looking out into the alley, her nose twitching like a pigeon that had lost an argument with a bus. I climbed on top of her and crawled across her body. She scratched and kicked me, and scrambled out from under me. I stayed still. I could hardly believe what I was seeing.
'So that's it,' I said. 'You want to put a cat among the pigeons.'
The stench of the rotten mangy creature was filling my nose, telling me to slink away or prepare to fight, while the smell of frying potatoes told me to run past the damn animal and grab as much as I could. I'd come off best if we did fight - that was obvious. The cat was a runt, begging for scraps at the back door of the chippie.
'She's got nothing and no one,' said the girl, 'not even a decent set of teeth and claws, but no pigeon would stand up to her. We just need you to persuade her.'
'And just what am I supposed to say?' I asked. 'What's in it for the kitty?'
'You'll think of something,' she said, twitching her whiskers like she wanted me right there and then. How could I say no to that? So, holding down all my instincts like a seagull with a slab of scampi in breadcrumbs, I went out from behind that bin to negotiate with a dirty, fawning alley cat.
© A.R. Collins, 2010
'You look like you could do with it,' I said.
'Thanks.' She started to nibble. 'I heard you were in need of a new partner.'
It was true that my last partner was dead. He'd found a pack under a platform at Heathrow Terminal Four tube and, shall we say, loved more of the girls than he could handle. But what she'd heard was wrong.
'I don't need a new partner,' I said. 'I'm quitting the business.'
She dropped the apple core and stared at me. She twitched her nose and held her front paws in front of her chest like a pet dog begging for a lick of his human's ninety-nine.
'But we need you,' she said.
I scoffed. 'What can I do? You know this city as well as I do, treacle. I can take on alley cats, pigeons, stray dogs, even the damn seagulls. But at the end of the day, they're no trouble. We only have one enemy in this place, and you know what they say about them. You're never more than five tails away from a human.'
She cocked her head on one side and looked at me, her nose twitching. She couldn't see me any better than I could see her. What did I smell like to her? Failure? I turned away.
'There's nothing I can do here.'
'Come with me,' she said.
She jumped up, and then dropped out of my bin. I could have stayed put - I should have stayed put - but something made me follow her. A human screamed as I streaked past her, and ran to join the girl under a parked bus.
'Where are you taking me?' I asked her.
'We need your help,' she said. 'We're not getting enough to eat down by the river, so we're planning a move to Trafalgar Square. Humans there just throw away their food.'
'Trafalgar Square!' Was she crazy, or just plain stupid? 'You know why humans throw away their food there?'
'Of course I do.'
There was a roaring noise, an overpowering stench, and the bus was moving. I whipped my tail out of the way of the wheel, and when it was gone, we ran to an alley. Humans screamed as we passed them. Damn bigots. They'd throw food to the pigeons, but never to us. I told the girl that.
'I know,' she said, taking me behind another bin. 'We're going to take the food after they've thrown it down for the pigeons, and you're going to help us.'
'How can I do that?' The girl was a paving stone short of a square and a trickle short of a fountain.
'There's that new partner I was talking about. All you have to do is persuade her.'
She was looking out into the alley, her nose twitching like a pigeon that had lost an argument with a bus. I climbed on top of her and crawled across her body. She scratched and kicked me, and scrambled out from under me. I stayed still. I could hardly believe what I was seeing.
'So that's it,' I said. 'You want to put a cat among the pigeons.'
The stench of the rotten mangy creature was filling my nose, telling me to slink away or prepare to fight, while the smell of frying potatoes told me to run past the damn animal and grab as much as I could. I'd come off best if we did fight - that was obvious. The cat was a runt, begging for scraps at the back door of the chippie.
'She's got nothing and no one,' said the girl, 'not even a decent set of teeth and claws, but no pigeon would stand up to her. We just need you to persuade her.'
'And just what am I supposed to say?' I asked. 'What's in it for the kitty?'
'You'll think of something,' she said, twitching her whiskers like she wanted me right there and then. How could I say no to that? So, holding down all my instincts like a seagull with a slab of scampi in breadcrumbs, I went out from behind that bin to negotiate with a dirty, fawning alley cat.
© A.R. Collins, 2010
