“Oh, dear,” Francis said. “She’s on the mend, I hope?”
The stranger hummed, busy giving the kitten head scritches.
Francis wasn’t sure if he’d understood the question. He’d have to use clearer language.
“I wish your kitten good health,” he added.
This made the man smile, and he replied something in his own language.
Francis wasn’t sure what he’d said but smiled anyway. He should’ve studied the commonly used phrases in Turkish more during the voyage, but admittedly he had struggled.
Either way, he seemed to be doing all right with thisfellow so far.
He hadn’t been asked for his name yet, and Francis was happy to remain anonymous for a while longer.
They sat together for a while, not speaking much, only petting their respective cats, and greeting new cats when they approached.
Francis noted how the other cats were drawn to this man, which made sense if he was the one who fed them. They were probably hoping for more food.
One chatty cat meowed several times, and the man responded with quiet murmurs in Turkish. The cat meowed back.
“Are they telling you to fetch more food?” Francis asked.
This made the man chuckle. “Yes, always. Always more. Always an open mouth.”
The cat in question, a black cat, stared up at him, then meowed plaintively in answer.
“Mmm, no, no, you must wait,” the man said. “Lunch is soon.”
The black cat hopped up onto the pond edge, tail swishing as he looked down at the goldfish there. Probably thinking if he wasn’t being fed now, he’d contemplate catching his own.
“Don’t they eat the fish?” Francis asked.
The man shook his head. “Lazy,” he said, nodding to the black cat.
Francis nodded.
Aslan decided he’d had enough pets and sprung off Francis’s lap like a coiled spring. Francis felt the claws through the thin fabric of his trousers, and while it didn’t hurt too much it had surprised him.
“Hurt?” the man asked him, tilting his head. He didn’t seem as concerned as he was curious.
“No, I’m fine,” Francis assured him. “Just caught me bysurprise, that’s all.”
The man nodded, as if satisfied.
Francis got the feeling that if he’d made a fuss about being scratched, this stranger would have judged him poorly.
“Kitten claws are sharp,” the stranger said, stroking the kitten. “More sharp than cat. Kitten claws are needles.”
“Oh? I’ve never held a kitten,” Francis admitted.
The man looked scandalised. “Never?”
“Sadly not,” Francis replied. “I think today was the first time I’ve even held a cat.”
His scandalised expression remained. “Why?” he asked.
“My household are all too fond of dogs,” Francis explained. “I’ve never been able to have a cat, though I dearly wanted one all my life.”
