“Ow!” I dropped Shelley at the sudden pain and he raced off into the shadows.
“Stupid cat!” I yelled after him.
My arm was really sore, but I had no idea where my uncle kept his first aid kit, assuming he had any medical supplies at all.
I opened a few doors until I found a small bathroom tucked under the stairs. There was a mirror over the sink and I could see that Shelley had left a deep scratch running down the back of my arm.
“Stupid cat,” I muttered again, poking about in the cupboard under the sink until I found a tube of antiseptic cream. It looked like it had been there for a while, but I figured it was better than nothing. As I stood up to use the mirror to see what I was doing, I thought I saw someone running across the hallway behind me.
“Hello?” I turned round. “Anyone there?”
Silence. Although I supposed that if there was a burglar, they weren’t exactly going to announce their presence.
I stood there for a moment, ears strained to listen out for any sign I wasn’t alone.
Nothing.
At last I went back to rubbing cream into my arm. It was sore, but it could have been worse. I just wondered what it was that had spooked Shelley so much. He was usually such a chilled-out cat, spending most of the day asleep on my bed. I’d never seen him behave like this.
When I was done, I went upstairs to check out my bed for the night. Opening the second door on the right, I gasped when I saw what was waiting for me. It looked like something out of a four-star hotel.
A four-poster bed was tastefully made up with a deep red throw and lots of scatter cushions over the pillows. An open fire blazed opposite the end of the bed, a large rug laid out in front of it so I could lounge about in front of the fire if I wanted. Over to the side, I could see a door leading to an en suite bathroom, and when I went to check it out, I discovered a bathroom which was a gazillion times nicer than the one I was used to in my apartment.
A girl could seriously get used to this. If I had to stay here for the rest of my life, I was okay with that.
I decided to have a bath to wash off the stench of goat before I went to bed. I found an impressive selection of bubble bath and salts in a cupboard and poured a generous dose of a lavender oil into the water before getting in.
As I relaxed into the tub, I could feel all my stresses and strains easing away. Why on earth wouldn’t I want to live like this? And what could have happened between my dad and uncle to make them cut ties?
Lying there, I thought about my dad. He’d worked hard all his life as a painter and decorator, but we were never what you’d call rich. When my mum died from cancer, it was like she took a piece of him with her. Although I was only ten, I was pretty much left to fend for myself after that. It taught me resilience, but I always wished we were closer. And then when Dad started drinking, it pretty much meant the end of our relationship.
For a long time, I blamed him for the choices I made. Before he died and made me an orphan, I had big plans. My grades were good and I was hoping to go to university to study medicine. I wanted to be a forensic pathologist with the police. I know that sounds really morbid, but there was something about working with the dead which really appealed to me. Maybe it was because that way I could give them a voice, be their advocate when they were no longer able to communicate.
But after Dad died, all that went out the window. I was put into a foster home for the next couple of years, and although my foster family were decent people, it wasn’t the same. I started hanging out with a bad crowd and my grades took a nose dive. Medicine was soon off the table, and although I managed to get accepted to do a forensics degree, I was too interested in partying to study, so I dropped out before I was thrown out.
“Where were you then, Uncle Gregory?” I muttered, before sinking under the water to get my hair wet enough to wash.
THUD!
I sat up at the sudden sound, water sloshing out of the bath and over the floor.
There was definitely someone in the house with me. And I was in the middle of nowhere, all alone.
Climbing out of the bath, I grabbed a robe hanging off the back of the door and put it on. Padding through the bedroom, I picked up a heavy statue from a sideboard, wanting something to protect myself against an intruder.
Quietly, I opened the door a little bit to see if I could see who was in my house.
Suddenly, something pushed it open...
...and Shelley trotted through, wrapping himself around my legs.
“Shelley! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” I scolded, putting the statue down so I could pick him up and give him a big cuddle. “Are you in a better mood now? Found any mice yet?”
Shelley simply purred, nudging his head against my chin, his signal that he wanted me to pay more attention to him.
So this was my mystery intruder. Shelley must have knocked something over while he was exploring the house.
I gently dropped my cat onto the bed and went back to the bathroom to finish washing my hair. Although it was good to know there wasn’t someone coming to murder me in my bed, I wasn’t in the mood to bathe any
