And our cat was there?
Aye, he were there, all right. Sitting among t'lads. Shpent twhole evening with us.
Just sat there, eh?
That e did.
Jack giggled reminiscently.
By gaw, e enjoyed isself. Ah gave im a drop o best bitter out of me own glass and once or twice ah thought e was going to have a go at chucking a dart. Hes some cat.
He laughed again. As I bore Oscar upstairs I was deep in thought.
What was going on here? These sudden desertions were upsetting Helen and I felt they could get on my nerves in time. I didnt have long to wait till the next one. Three nights later he was missing again.
This time Helen and I didnt bother to searchwe just waited. He was back earlier than usual. I heard the door bell at nine oclock.
It was the elderly Miss Simpson peering through the glass. And she wasnt holding Oscarhe was prowling on the mat waiting to come in.
Miss Simpson watched with interest as the cat stalked inside and made for the stairs.
Ah, good, Im so glad hes come home safely. I knew he was your cat and Ive been intrigued by his behaviour all evening.
Where may I ask?
Oh, at the Womens Institute. He came in shortly after we started and stayed till the end.
Really? What exactly was your programme, Miss Simpson?
Well, there was a bit of committee stuff, then a short talk with lantern slides by Mr. Walters from the water company and we finished with a cake-making competition.
Yes yes and what did Oscar do?
She laughed.
Mixed with the company, apparently enjoyed the slides and showed great interest in the cakes.
I see. And you didnt bring him home?
No, he made his own way here. As you know, I have to pass your house and I merely rang your bell to make sure you knew he had arrived.
Im obliged to you, Miss Simpson. We were a little worried.
I mounted the stairs in record time. Helen was sitting with the cat on her knee and she looked up as I burst in.
I know about Oscar now, I said.
Know what?
Why he goes on these nightly outings. Hes not running awayhes visiting.
Visiting?
Yes, I said. Dont you see? He likes getting around, he loves people, especially in groups, and hes interested in what they do. Hes a natural mixer.
Helen looked down at the attractive mound of fur curled on her lap.
Of course thats it hes a socialite!
Exactly, a high stepper! A cat-about-town!
It all afforded us some innocent laughter and Oscar sat up and looked at us with evident pleasure, adding his own throbbing purr to the merriment. But for Helen and me there was a lot of relief behind it; ever since our cat had started his excursions there had been the gnawing fear that we would lose him, and now we felt secure. From that night our delight in him increased. There was endless joy in watching this facet of his character unfolding. He did the social round meticulously, taking in most of the activities of the town. He became a familiar figure at whist drives, jumble sales, school concerts and scout bazaars. Most of the time he was made welcome,
but he was twice ejected from meetings of the Rural District Councilthey did not seem to relish the idea of a cat sitting in on their deliberations.
At first I was apprehensive about his making his way through the streets but I watched him once or twice and saw that he looked both ways before tripping daintily across. Clearly, he had excellent traffic sense and this made me feel that his original injury had not been caused by a car. Taking it all in all, Helen and I felt that it was a kind of stroke of fortune which had brought Oscar to us. He was a warm and cherished part of our home life. He added to our happiness.
When the blow fell it was totally unexpected. I was finishing the morning surgery. I looked round the door and saw only a man and two little boys.
Next, please, I said.
The man stood up. He had no animal with him. He was middle-aged, with the rough, weathered face of a farm worker. He twirled a cloth cap nervously in his hands.
Mr. Herriot? he said.
Yes, what can I do for you?
He swallowed and looked me straight in the eyes.
Ah think youve got ma cat.
What?
Ah lost ma cat a bit since. He cleared his throat.
We used to live at Missdon but ah got a job as ploughman to Mr. Horne of Wederly. It was after we moved to Wederly that tcat went missing. Ah reckon he was trying to find 'is way back to his old home.
Wederly? Thats on the other side of Brawtonover thirty miles away.
Aye, ah knaw, but cats is funny things.
But what makes you think Ive got him?
He twisted the cap around a bit more.
Theres a cousin o mine lives in Darrowby and ah heard tell from im about this cat that goes around to meetins. I ad to come. Weve been hunting everywhere.
Tell me, I said, this cat you lost. What did he look like?
Grey and black and sort o gingery. Right bonny e was. And e was allus going out to gatherins.
A cold hand clutched at my heart.
Youd better come upstairs. Bring the boys with you.
Helen was laying the table for lunch in our little bed-sitter.