Rachel had a visitor today. Ann.
Ann worries terribly about cats and dogs, and birds and mice, and anything, really, that is alive and might need looking after. She feeds the birds in the park, for heaven’s sake.
“Look out for a little tabby cat with a blue tag” she told Rachel. “I see it down by all that earthmoving machinery for the new footbridge, and I think it’s after the robins there. Perhaps you can get near enough to read its name tag.”
This is where she meant. To get to the footbridge you go this way:
Round the corner from my house onto this street, heading for the church.
Cross over the road at the church. That patch of grass is my territory!
Walk down to where that little path appears in front of the furthest red car.
That’s the one.
Down the steps.
Across the road towards Armstrong Bridge. Turn right.
And head down the hill for the heap of earth.
You’ve arrived! There’s the building work, and the new footbridge. It’s meant to be rusty, Rachel says. She says she may be a Philistine, but…..
Across from the heap of earth is this. A gap. Look closer!
It’s a main road!
A very busy main road that goes to the seaside.
Anyway…. when Rachel heard Ann talk about the tabby cat, she took her into another room, where I was sitting just minding my own business, and pointed to me. She didn’t say anything, but she had That Face on again.
Ann looked at me. She looked at my blue tag. “That’s the one!” she cried.
After Ann had gone home, Rachel gave me the most fearful telling-off.
I had to promise never to go near that main road.
I’m going to stay indoors this evening. Promises are very serious matters, and I have to think about this one.
I do like robins though. Why is life so complicated?