a suspended sentence, although a minority opinion (from Betty Lou) called for Nelson
to drive to a drugstore and fetch back six ice-cream cones. Somehow the minority
opinion prevailed, although Nelson complained that fifteen cents was too heavy a
fine for what he had done and the cat should pay part of it.
Eventually Random Numbers grew up, became sedate, and lost his enthusiasm for
croquet. But the cat rule remained and was adjudged to apply to any cat, be he
resident or travelling salesman, and to puppies, birds, and children under the age
of two. At a later time I introduced this rule on to the planet Tertius.
Did I mention the transaction under which I obtained Random Numbers from Mr Renwick?
Perhaps I didn’t. He wanted to swap a little pussy for a little pussy – that’s the,
way he expressed it. I walked right into that because I asked what he wanted for the
kitten – expecting him to say that there was no charge as the kitten hadn’t cost him
anything. I did not expect anything else because, while I was aware that some
pedigreed cats were bought and sold, I had never actually encountered one. In my
experience kittens were always given away, free.
I had not intended ever again to let. Mr Renwick inside the house; I remembered the
first time. But I was unexpectedly confronted with a fact: Mr Renwick carrying a
cardboard shoebox with a kitten in it. Grab the box and shut the door in his face?
Open the box on the front porch when he was warning me that the kitten was eager to
escape, and scraping, scrambling sounds confirmed it? Lie to him, tell him, sorry,
we have already acquired a kitten?
When the telephone rang –
I wasn’t really used to having a telephone. I felt that a ringing telephone meant
either bad news or Briney was calling; either way, I had to answer it at once. I
said, ‘Excuse me!’ and fled, leaving him standing in our open door.
He followed me in, through the central hall, and into my sewing-room/offiee/chore
room, where I was on the phone. There he put the shoebox down in front of me, and
opened it… and I saw this adorable grey kitten while I was talking with my
husband.
Brian was on his way home and had called to ask if there was anything I wanted him
to pick up.
`I don’t think so, dear. But do hurry home; I have your kitten. She’s a little
beauty, just the colour of a pussy willow. Mr Renwick brought her, the driver for
the Great Atlantic and Pacific Tea Company. He’s trying to screw me, Briney, in
exchange for the kitten… No, I’m quite certain. He not only said so, but he has
come up behind me and put his arm around me and is now playing with my breasts…
What?… No, I didn’t tell him anything of the sort. So do hurry. I won’t fight with
him, dear, because I’m pregnant. I just give in… Yes, sir; I will. Au ‘voir.’ I
hung up the receiver… although I had thought of using it like a policeman’s
truncheon. But I truly was unwilling to fight while I had a baby inside me.
Mr Renwick did not let go of me, but when what I was saying penetrated his head, he
held still. I turned around in his arms.
‘Don’t try to kiss me,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to risk so much as a cold while I’m
pregnant. Do you have a rubber? A Merry Widow?’
‘Uh… Yes.’
‘I thought you would have; I’m sure I’m not the first housewife you’ve tried this
with. All right; do please use it, as I don’t want to contract a social disease, and
neither do you. Are you married?’
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‘Yes. Christ, you’re a cool one!’
‘Not at all. I simply won’t risk being raped while I’m carrying a baby; that’s all.
Since you are married, you don’t want to catch anything, either, so put on that
rubber. How long does it take to drive from 31 st and Woodland?’ (Brian had called