Free Timba Comes Home by Sheila Jeffries Page B

and I watched, puzzled, as Angie’s car drove out faster than normal. Angie didn’t often go out after work. She’d change into jeans and a T-shirt and
play with me, or carry me around. It was our special time before Graham got home.
    I went to my dish. She’d forgotten to feed me! Where could Angie be going?
    The Spirit Lion came to me at certain times, and in certain places, always when I was alone. On that summer afternoon, I braved the cat flap and headed out into the sunshine.
In the back garden was a circle of stones in the long grass, and it seemed to be a place of mystery. It gave me a buzz to sit there and feel the heat of the sun reflected from the crystalline
stones. A time to be still, and listen, and sense what was coming through the glistening light.
    The paws of the Spirit Lion were so stealthy that they appeared silently, one each side of me like pillars of light. I felt him shuffling, shifting himself around me with the utmost care. Then I
saw his cascading white mane, his soft muzzle, his benevolent eyes, and I felt totally safe, and locked into a trance.
    The words came slowly from his ancient mind, and this time he called me by my name.
    ‘Timba, Timba . . .’ The resonance was like Graham’s voice humming through me. ‘Have confidence in the power you have been given. Don’t be afraid. Remember who you
are, Timba . . . the leader, the best kitten.’
    I listened, fluffed out with pride.
    ‘It’s not over with Leroy,’ he said. ‘This child was born to help the White Lions. Do not hide from him. He needs you, Timba. Always go to him. Always welcome him with
your tail up.’
    ‘But I don’t want to be Leroy’s cat,’ I said. ‘I want to stay with Angie.’
    ‘You won’t be Leroy’s cat, or Angie’s cat,’ breathed the Spirit Lion. ‘You are your own cat.’
    He said no more, but held me in the place of light between his paws. We purred together, and I noticed his purr was spaced out, so different from mine. But I felt satisfied with my purr . . . it
was loud for a kitten and I already knew how to use it to comfort Angie and Graham. Had I purred for Leroy? I couldn’t remember. The time with him had been so full of fear and pain. Yet
Leroy, more than anyone, needed the comfort of a purring cat.
    I slept blissfully, and when I awoke the sun was setting, and Angie’s car turned into the drive. I saw the red of it through the hedge. Whenever she arrived, the horses whinnied and the
chickens clucked hopefully. Usually she went round to see them before coming into the house, but this time she came straight in. Her face was bright with joy, and . . . she was carrying a cat
cage!
    I ran to meet her with my tail up.
    ‘Hello, Timba darling,’ she said, and smiled in a mysterious way. I followed her inside. She shut the door and put the cat cage gently on the floor.
    And then a miracle happened.
    The best miracle ever.
    Angie opened the cat cage, and out stepped an elegant black kitten with a white dot on his nose.
    My brother Vati!
    Angie had found Vati, and brought him home.
    ‘Oh not another one, Angie!’ said Graham when he saw Vati sharing my dish. ‘How many more waifs and strays are you going to bring home?’
    Angie flared up immediately. ‘As long as there’s room in my heart, Graham. If the Universe sends me a gift, I wouldn’t DREAM of turning it down. I’m here to love, and
that includes you . . . you sexy hunk.’
    She stood on tiptoe, wound her arms around Graham’s neck, and kissed him until his aura filled with light and blended with hers. He slid his arms around her waist and held her close,
murmuring words of love into her hair. Angie peeled off his jacket and flung it over a chair, then she loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, all the time with her eyes locked into his.
    They hurried upstairs, with Angie giggling and Graham thundering after her on his big feet. The bedroom door slammed shut and the house rang with Angie’s laughter.
    Vati and I