Cat Calls

"Tea or coffee?"

Two coffees, two teas, one nothing-thanks.

There was no need for conversation. Each was alone, with her own thoughts. Four sipped their beverages, one was content with great gulps of the serene atmosphere.

It was dusk. The sky was pinky-orange and the silhouettes of the trees danced quietly in the soft breeze. The cottage was just rustic enough for them to feel like pioneers, yet with conveniences like an electric kettle and squishy armchairs in the patio. The fading light meant that books had been laid aside, so even the sound of turning pages couldn't be heard any more. The tiny clinks of cup on saucer only enhanced the silence.

The sound, when it came, was part of the silence to start with. None of the five could tell whether they had heard it or imagined it, or whether it had been there at all. It grew more persistent. They sat up straighter in their armchairs, and placed cups and saucers down on the small table. Even the trees seemed to be rigid, waiting for the sound to declare itself, waiting for something to happen.

The side-door of the cottage opened slowly and Rachel stepped out, looking scared. "Can you hear it?" she whispered. The five friends nodded. Rachel moved up to them quickly, and, there being no spare chair, Mavis scrunched up so Rachel could squeeze in next to her.

"They told me when I bought it that this was a haunted house, " Rachel said. "I didn't believe them. Don't turn in into a hotel, your customers will be scared off and you'll get a bad reputation, they said, but I didn't listen. Now what am I to do?"

The sound was growing louder. They could discern it now. It was a cat. A cat mewing.

"Yes, yes. They said the previous owner was a witch who used her cat for her magic, and now only the cat's mew haunts the place ..."

"Rachel, you're getting hysterical," Gina said abruptly. "Pull yourself together. There's always an explanation."

"Yes," Arlene agreed. "Let's track the sound down."

Gina and Arlene stood up at once, followed more slowly by Mavis, Hasika and Joyce. Rachel stayed seated.

"Right, we divide into two groups," said Arlene, taking charge. "I'll go indoors with Mavis, and the three of you can look around outdoors."

It was hard to know where to start, the mewing seemed to fill the atmosphere. It didn't seem to emanate from anywhere specific.

The inside of the cottage was quickly searched, revealing nothing. Arlene and Mavis joined the other three in poking among bushes and looking up trees outdoors.

They had been at it for ten minutes when the sound ceased. The breeze whispered again and the trees danced. In the last vestiges of light, the five made their way back to Rachel, who was still in her armchair. Silently, the five gathered up books, cups, saucers and their hostess and made their way back indoors. Nobody wanted supper, so they went to their beds in the rooms they shared.

Gina and Arlene fell asleep quickly. They were sure there was some explanation, and it would be found. Mavis, Hasika and Joyce tossed and turned a bit but managed to fall asleep.

Rachel didn't. She listened for the sound to come back. She sat up in bed. Once, she stood up and walked around her room unsteadily. Had she done right, spending her savings on this remote place and trying to make a go of it as a hotel? Only eccentrics like the five friends currently in residence every showed up. And she could not - shudder - deal with the ghost of a cat, that she couldn't.

Rachel was bleary-eyed at breakfast, and the five friends did their own cooking and gave her a heaped plateful. When she merely picked at it, Gina and Arlene sat over her and made her eat.

"Now we go on a cat-hunt," Arlene announced.

"A Mews-hunt, you mean," Mavis giggled.

"Listen," Rachel began. "I wouldn't want you to ..."

But they didn't let her finish. They put their walking shoes on, got their walking sticks and set out. Hasika looked back at Rachel standing at the doorway, and decided to stay with her instead of joining the four. She knew she'd have to keep Rachel distracted or Rachel would have an anxiety attack or something.

Hasika did a great job of keeping her hostess distracted. She had brought her grandma's recipe book along, and together the two managed to find the ingredients for and concoct the most delicious pear pie. Just as they were taking it out of the oven, they heard approaching footsteps.

"Your problem is solved," the four chorused, as soon as the door was open. They had a fifth with them, Mr. Hammerstein, who had just bought the empty hall three miles to the south.

"I'm sorry, Rachel," Mr. Hammerstien said. "I didn't realise what it would do to you. I thought it was a great idea."

"What was?" Rachel asked.

"I'm going to turn that place into a movie theatre, and the first picture I'm showing there is called CAT CALLS. I thought this was a unique way of advertising it. Heck, it must've been effective, since you got so scared, but I'm sorry I frightened you."

Somehow, they were all in armchairs in the patio by this time. Mr. Hammerstein had one to himself, as did some of the friends, while others shared. Any further reproaches or explanations or apologies were lost in MMMMMs as the pear pie was devoured by all.