As Rosa rounded the side of the building, a soft mewling sound coming from behind a large metal garbage container piqued her curiosity. She leaned her bike against the building and walked towards the sound. Finding a dirty cardboard box on its side, she stooped to look inside. Two large, round green eyes peered back at her.
Oh, me bleedin’ ’eart.
The eyes belonged to a tiny brown tabby huddled against the back of the box. Rosa scanned the area for the mother or the owner, but there was nothing to be found. Returning to the bakery, Rosa asked the lady at the counter if she knew anything about the kitten.
The clerk, a plump lady with a ready smile, stared back wide-eyed.
“A kitten, just left on its own?”
“It appears so.”
“Oh, poor thing.”
“You don’t know anyone in the area who might’ve lost a kitten?” It was a pleasant way to ask if someone was hardhearted enough to leave a kitten to its own devices in a box in the alley.
“No, honey. No one in the building has said anything about a kitten or a cat.”
Rosa bought another pastry for the woman’s troubles. Just as she was about to step outside, a middle-aged woman wearing a simple day dress, hat and gloves, entered. Rosa’s eye’s widened in recognition.
“Mrs. Davidson?”
The lady’s somber expression turned into a smile. “Rosa? Is it really you?”
“Yes, madam. I’m back for a visit.” Rosa added a quick amendment. “Only just arrived. How’s Nancy?”
Nancy Davidson had been Rosa’s very best friend during their high school years. Sadly, they had lost touch over time.
“Nancy’s married, as you might know. Eddie’s a good enough fellow.” The way she said it made Rosa doubt the woman’s convictions. “All the girls are doing fine. My youngest, Marjorie’s finding it hard to settle, but in time, I’m sure.”
Nancy was the oldest of four girls. Marjorie was close in ages to Gloria and they were good friends.
“Please let Nancy know I’m around,” Rosa said. “I’d love to see her again.”
“She’s very busy with her three boys.” Mrs. Davidson cocked her head. “You knew about them? I love them to pieces, but oh, they can be a handful.”
Rosa smiled, though in truth she hadn’t heard beyond the first one. “Please say hello for me.”
“I will. You take care, honey.”
Rosa had thought coming back to Santa Bonita would be like coming home, but in many ways it was like visiting the ghosts of one’s past. She still couldn’t face the library, which was a real shame. Rosa lived for the knowledge one could find in libraries. One’s private collection could only go so far when it came to one’s need to expand one’s mind.
Shaking off the regrets of things she couldn’t change, Rosa focused on her present company, the small abandoned brown tabby.
“Well ’ello, me ole mucker,” Rosa said in a cockney accent. “Wot’s the likes of you doin’ out ’ere on yer own then, eh?”
It mewed again, and Rosa felt her heart melting like Julie’s ice cream cone. She sighed and then reached in and gently grabbed the thin, trembling kitten. Cradling it in the crook of her arm, she guessed the little thing was about two months old. She checked under its tail to identify the gender.
“Hey, little boy, I’ll bet you’re hungry, aren’t you?” She broke off a piece of her pastry, and the kitten eagerly licked the custard from Rosa’s fingers with its tiny sandpaper tongue.
Now what? Rosa thought as she fed the kitten a few more pieces. She noticed a store on the street that sold kitchen and bath wares. While concealing the kitten, she purchased a cotton tea towel. Then, much to the amusement of the lady at the cash register, she carefully wrapped the kitten in the towel until just its tiny furry head was exposed. The kitten softly purred.
“What am I going to do with you?”
The kitten sleepily opened one eye, looked at her, and then closed it again.
Oh dear. Rosa’s heart had just been ambushed. Rosa gently placed the kitten into her basket and mounted her bicycle. “I wonder how you’re going to like England?” she said as she started toward the police station.
Miguel’s eyes immediately fell on the sleeping kitten in Rosa’s arms as she entered his office. “I’ve named him Diego,” Rosa announced before Miguel had a chance to say anything.
“Interesting name. It’s, Spanish.” He had a slight smirk on his face.
“I had some children’s picture books that my parents bought me when I was a child. They were called The Adventures of Deputy Diego. He was a fearless and intelligent cat detective who solved many crimes in his Barcelona neighborhood. He was brown too.” She kissed the tabby on the top of his head.
“Does this cat show any aptitude for police work?”
“He likes pastry.”
“Well, that’s a start.” He nodded. “But I’m out of extra police notebooks,” Miguel said simply. “Officer Diego will have to buy his own.”
“I found him on my way here, and I couldn’t just leave him beside a garbage bin.”
“You know, in America, we have something called the SPCA.”
“I know, I know. We have something like that in England too.” Rosa looked at Miguel and pretended to pout. “Diego is destined for bigger things than the SPCA. I’ll quickly run him home after our meeting.”
“There’s no time, he’ll have to come with us.” He grabbed the keys from the
