Nine Lives

Carolyn – “Tilly, Tilly come on then, nice puss, come on Tilly, foodies, come on now, come on.” 

She shook the bag of biscuits and rattled the bag of treats.

Nothing. No Tilly. “Bloody cat, this is serious, where the hell is she,” she mumbled.

Carolyn had been all over the house and garden, for half an hour, rattling the bag and calling out. She looked in the cat's usual hidey holes. But there was no sign in any of them.  Little bitch, she thought, she must have found a new one. Typical, any other day it wouldn’t matter but today, of all days…..

Tilly –“ I’m not coming out. I don’t like it when she calls me – it’s never anything good and always involves  pain and being shoved in a box. I’m not hungry – those geckos last night were very tasty, and now I want to sleep. I’m in my new cozy place, she won’t find me here, she doesn't know about it yet -  my new secret hideaway.”

Tilly snuggled up under the cashmere jumpers at the bottom of the wardrobe, and went back to sleep, dreaming of mice and geckos.

Carolyn’s phone rang, the display showed “mom,” oh no, she thought, I'd better answer it or there'll be trouble.

“Hi Mom, how are things?”

“Carolyn, she said “where are you?”

“I’m at home in the kitchen, why?"

“Carolyn you need to get out of there – now!”

“Mom, it's okay. I’m watching the news, the fire is still 30 miles away. It’s under control, they are telling people not to panic and keep watching.”

“I don’t care what they say, the temperature is rising by the hour. It’s over 95 degrees and it’s not even noon. Have you seen the TV?They have just announced the start of a heatwave. God knows it’s been so hot for weeks and everything is tinder dry. One big gust of wind and everything will go up. Come on honey, don’t be so stubborn, it's only a house, you can get another one. For goodness sake use your common sense.”

She didn’t want to tell her about Tilly. Her mother didn't like animals, they were smelly and left hairs all over the house; she would never understand, no point in explaining.

She didn’t want to tell her either about the steady stream of cars rumbling past her house, for over an hour now. Heading down the hill, residents evacuating, their cars crammed with luggage and family pets. The sky overhead was smoky and unfortunately the wind was getting up and there were strong gusts. There was a smell of smoke in the air and some ash was forming on the wooden table outside on the porch. She went to the kitchen window and saw a plume of smoke and flames in the west behind St Pedro, behind the mountains, but that was 30 miles away and it didn't seem to be getting any closer.

“Mom, I'm not stupid, if it gets any worse I promise I will pack up and leave. I’ll phone you back in an hour and let you know what is happening. Switch on the news, you'll see what I mean.”

“NO she said, I will phone YOU. Speak soon. Take care. Love you.”

She hung up and looked at her phone. There were lots of messages on the Whatsapp group. Mostly people setting up rendezvous points in the town, so they could travel together. Checking in with each other and asking if anyone was left on the hill. It seemed that for a few months every year the threat of a wildfire is a physical presence - a visitor, unwelcome, who nevertheless returns year after year. She had only lived in her house for a few months; she didn’t want to leave it.

Carolyn went outside and looked at the road. The stream of cars was now a flood and people were hooting their horns, opening their windows, and shouting at her to “get out now.” She looked at the sky. She hated to admit it but the flames were getting closer and the wooden table was now completely covered in grey ash. Pieces of ash were swirling around in the air, getting into her hair and eyes. There was an acrid smell of smoke and the air quality was making it difficult to breathe. She didn't want to acknowledge how dangerous it was becoming, but now she couldn't deny it.

She went back inside and sat on the sofa, sobbing, tears running down her cheeks, “Oh Tilly Tilly, stupid cat, where are you.” She had a heart-wrenching decision to make and it wouldn’t wait. She went to the bedroom and threw open the wardrobe door. She had already packed a rucksack with essentials and a few clothes. But it wasn’t there. There was nothing on the floor just a pile of jumpers that had fallen off the hangers. Then she remembered that she had put it in the utility room, near the back door, in case she needed to make a swift exit. She ran to the utility room and there it was, on top of the washing machine. She grabbed it, ran back into the living room, picked up her passport, a few pictures, car keys and looked around. She couldn’t wait any longer, she had to go. She felt like a murderer. Poor Tilly.

Just as she got to the front door she heard a funny noise, a sort of gulping sound. She looked back. There was Tilly standing in the door of the bedroom, throwing up. She must have been hiding in the wardrobe. Little beast. Carolyn saw her chance and grabbed her, still retching, vomit and spittle running down her coat. She scooped her up in her arms and propelled her towards the car. She opened the back door and threw her in on the back seat. Then she ran back to the house and picked up the rucksack, put her phone in her back pocket and locked the front door. Stupid she knew if everything was going up in flames, but she couldn´t help it. It might be spared, you never know.

She started up the engine and eased her car into the stream of vehicles still making their way slowly down the hill. She looked at Tilly in the rear view mirror. She had stopped vomiting and was cleaning herself, getting ready to sleep. Thank goodness she had a taste for geckos, probably saved her life! Her phone rang, it was her mother. She didn’t answer, she was enjoying the relief of her escape, her mother could wait.

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