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anywhere near humans. ‘I don’t want to be within reach of their eager prying eyes,’ she said.
    ‘Oh, Pinkie!’ the tabby exclaimed. ‘Don’t be so awkward. There are many humans who are kindly towards animals. All animals,’ he added. ‘Trust me. You don’t have to see every one as your enemy.’
    ‘I don’t,’ she answered. ‘I just prefer to keep them at a distance.’
    ‘But they could be useful to us,’ Sammy reminded her. ‘How did we get here, after all? And, don’t you remember, when we first discovered each other, how you used to accept food from one of the kindly ones?’
    ‘Yes, yes. I know. We can use them in some ways. But only on our terms. I don’t want to be adopted.’
    Sammy said no more just then. But in fact he had some very different ideas in his mind. The impression made on him by Buster was still vivid. Sammy had begun to develop his own theory about the benefits of behaving like a human’s pet.
    In one garden he saw a shed completely covered by a climbing plant which had wrapped its mass of stems all over the sides and roof like a lot of green tentacles. ‘That seems like an ideal shelter for the two of us for now,’ he murmured. ‘We’d keep warm in there tonight. What d’you think, Pinkie?’
    ‘There doesn’t seem to be anything better,’ she replied without enthusiasm. ‘But we needn’t go there till dark, need we? We don’t want to be spotted.’
    Sammy was amused. There they were, the two of them, perched on top of a high wall overlooking every house in the row. How much more visible could they get? ‘All right, Pinkie,’ he chuckled. ‘Whatever you say.’
    For the rest of the daylight hours the cats returned to the riverside and kept out of sight in the long grass. The anxiety in the car during their longjourney earlier in the day had tired them and they were both eager to rest. At dusk Sammy led the way along the wall to the chosen retreat. They jumped down into the garden and stepped carefully across to the shed. It was easy to climb to the roof and then, under the matted strands of the plant, to find a space that was hidden, dry and comfortable. A cushion of dead leaves, trapped by the thick tendrils, made a safe place to lie on.
    During the night the call of an owl and the snuffling of a roving hedgehog were the only sounds that reached their ears. True to their nature, the cats dozed and woke and dozed again. But towards daybreak they were rudely awakened. It began to rain heavily. Although they were fairly well protected from the worst of the weather, the drumming of the raindrops on the wooden roof couldn’t be ignored. Pinkie stirred.
    ‘Why move?’ Sammy checked her. ‘We’ll stay drier in here than almost anywhere else.’
    ‘It’ll be daylight soon. We have to move,’ was her answer.
    ‘Whatever for? No one knows we’re here, so no one will come searching for us.’
    Pinkie simply wasn’t happy to remain in the vicinity of humans. She was restless and peered through the screen of greenery, looking nervously in each direction.
    ‘At least wait while this rain is so heavy,’ Sammy persuaded her. ‘You’d get soaked out there in no time.’ Pinkie certainly didn’t relish that prospect and tried to be still. Daylight came and the rain didn’t ease up. It began to penetrate the climbing plant’s protection. The cats felt cold and miserable.
    ‘There’s no advantage in this,’ Pinkie declared and started to pull herself free of the drenched vegetation. All at once she stopped. Though fully exposed to the lashing rain, suddenly she seemed unaware of it. She was listening to a tramp! tramp! of steps down the road.
    ‘It can’t be!’ Sammy hissed and tried to crawl even further into the jungle of stems.
    Pinkie was frozen to the spot. She couldn’t decide whether to run or clamber back in with Sammy. ‘Pinkie! Pinkie! Hide yourself!’ Sammy begged. ‘Stay with me!’ She dived in by his side, trembling violently, unable to