Sheeba the cat has just made an appearance on the driveway and will not stop meowing and rubbing against my leg so aggressively that I am feeling a little bit creeped out. Finally I pick her up and cuddle her, while Carl and François both come out to the car. And now the young woman from next door is coming over.
"Is my awful kitty cat making a nuisance of herself", she rings out in a very posh London accent. She is tall, very thin, around thirty or thirty-five. Her hair is short, tinted auburn with three hoop earrings dangling from each earlobe and the most intense, sparkling sapphire huge eyes I have ever seen. She is wearing denim overalls rolled up enough to reveal rainbow striped stockings. She is also wearing a magenta long sleeve T shirt.
"So she does have a home", say I. "We were wondering where she came from."
"I do hope she hasn't been a bother."
"On the contrary, we've all fallen in love with her. In fact, if she ever needs another home, I would love to be considered." And now I am gently handing the cat over to her mistress who takes her in her arms.
"Yes, let's talk about this. My name is Chelsea", she says, extending her free hand to be shook.
"Christopher. And this is Carl, and Francois..."
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