Catherine shook her head and turned away to hide her grin. “My neighbour’s cat,” she pronounced each word slowly. “Juni?—”
“Juni?” Penny’s lips twisted in a teasing smile.
“Yes, short for Juniper. He’s fine… he’s a sweetheart, actually. I’ve rather enjoyed his company. You know we were talking about fresh starts the other day?”
Penny narrowed her eyes.
“Well, I’ve been thinking… maybe I should get myself a cat.”
Penny vigorously shook her head.
“Why not?”
“Because it’ll be another excuse for you to avoid putting yourself out there. You’ll wither into one of those lonely old cat ladies.”
“Pen! That’s an awful thing to say. I just thought it might be nice to have another being to come home to in the evenings.”
Catherine often recommended pet ownership to her clients. She’d even written a blog about it after reading up on the myriad health benefits of pets — lowering cortisol, increasing serotonin and dopamine, not to mention the joyful distraction…from the yawning canyon of emptiness stretching out before me.
Penny frowned.
“Juni makes these cute little chirping noises. It’s very endearing.”
“I think this freezing water is addling your brain.”
Penny turned to swim for the bank, but Catherine stayed put, trailing her fingers through the water and trying not to think about how similar Penny’s words had been to Francesca’s.
Shrivelled old spinster.
Lonely old cat lady.
Was that really how people saw her? At fifty-six, she wasn’t old. And she certainly wasn’t withered, especially not here, in this cold water where she felt so alive with her blood pumping and endorphins soaring.
But the wordlonelyechoed in her mind, and she had to admit that loneliness had crept up on her when she hadn’t been looking. At first, it had just stood quietly in the corner. Now, more often than not, it walked alongside her, weighing her down like a cold arm draped around her shoulder, corroding the shine off even the brightest of occasions. And now here she was considering companionshipfrom a feline friend. Something steady, warm, and constant in her life, other than work. Was that really so dysfunctional?
No — dysfunctional is constructing your neighbour’s flatpack furniture without being asked, just so you can hang out with their cat.Best not to mention that part to Penny.
“Are you staying in there all day?” Penny waved an arm in the air and jiggled about in her Dryrobe.
Catherine sighed and started swimming back towards the grassy bank.
“Can you swim a little faster? I’m starving and I have very cold boobies,” Penny yelled.
Catherine had to giggle at her ridiculous friend and the shocked faces of the passing elderly couple walking a white Scottie dog.
With a forced smile, Penny turned to them and curtsied in her robe.
“It’s okay,” she said, “I’m a lawyer.”
They eyed her up and down, shuffling away as fast as their withered legs would allow.
Dried and dressed,they wandered through the park, past the Royal Pump Rooms and over the bridge toward the restaurant they loved — the one with the terrace that overlooked the river.
Despite the chill in the air, they opted for a table outside and were shown to one of the few that were bathed in sunshine.
Catherine relaxed into the chair, relishing the sun warming her through to her bones, as Penny rummaged around in her oversized tote bag, muttering something about sunglasses. Overhead, a jet stream scored the sky with a white slash and conjured thoughts of the woman in red — the flight attendant,ex-flight attendant, whose name Catherine still hadn’t learned despite their recent encounters around town.
“Ah-ha!”
