Jellylorum carefully licked her paws, flicking her tail as her father called her. Old Deuteronomy had agreed to take his children to the theatre for a treat and they had all been looking forward to it for so long. "Just coming father," she chirruped. The young adult queen stretched out her legs, tugged a flower behind one ear and left her neat little den. As she strode across the junkyard to her family where they were waiting, she caught sight of herself in a puddle. A pretty young brown and grey tabby queen with brilliant green eyes looked back at her. She smiled before racing the last couple of meters to her father.
"I was starting to worry about you," the large grey cat laughed, embracing her in a great bear hug. "We're just waiting for Jenny." Jellylorum giggled, thinking of her gingery younger sister. "Can we just get going?" Macavity whined, tugging on his father's coat. "Patience Mac," Deuteronomy said sternly. "Come on Jenny," he boomed. The ginger queen came racing across the yard. "Are you ok?" Jellylorum asked as Jennyanydots skidded to a halt, clutching a stitch in her side. "Yes, yes," she breathed. "Just … sorting out … my … head fur." Jelly smiled. "Of course. You must look your best for Skimble…" Jenny blushed. "He said he'd meet us there," she pointed out.
The family soon got moving. Grizabella, Deuteronomy's mate, was staying home, nursing the newborn kit George. This meant it was the young queen Jellylorum, her teen siblings Jennyanydots and Macavity, along with their father, the kitten Munkustrap and their step sisters Demeter and Bombalurina going along. Jelly took the small Munkus by the paw, and helped him along. The silver and black tabby had not really been beyond the confine of their home, and his fear was obvious in his eyes. "It's ok," she whispered to him as he gazed at the bright lights. "They look like massive, really bright stars," he whispered. "I know," she laughed. "Aren't they beautiful?"
The show was a performance of "Dick Whittington," taking place underneath a human theatre. The family bustled inside, taking their seats. Skimble, the young railway cat that Jenny was dating, met them in the lobby and accompanied them inside. The lead actor, playing Dick Whittington's legendary cat "Banderas," was a well-known feline performer by the name of 'Grindlevine.' Or at least that was the intention. Just before the show was about to star, a timid looking cat stepped out from behind the velvet curtain. "Ladies and gentlecats!" he announced in a voice that was far louder than his size would suggest. "I am afraid the star of our show, Mr Grindlevine, has been taken ill this evening. As a result, the part of Banderas will this evening be portrayed by his understudy, Asparagus." At this there was a general grumbling from the crowd.
Munkustrap nudged Jellylorum, who was sitting next to him, gently. "Asparagus?" he asked, his tongue slipping over the complex name. "Yes, it is a fuss to pronounce," she smiled. "I bet all his friends just call him Gus." At that moment there was a drum roll and the curtain swept open. The show itself was average. The sets were nothing special; most of the actors were nothing to write home about. But the actor playing Dick Wittington's cat, he was breath taking. Every movement of his tail or arch of his back oozed character, his voice softened the hardest of hearts. At the end of the show, the cheers were all for him and flowers rained down on the stage.
As the family started to exit the building, Jellylorum tugged at her father. "Could you wait a moment please? I need to use the rest room." Deuteronomy agreed to meet her outside the theatre when she was done, but before she could meet them she got lost, deep within the bowels of the theatre. She crept along, knocked around by the hustle and bustle of the stage hands and back stage crew. Two voices caught her attention from behind a door with a star painted on it, that stood ajar. "It's disgraceful," snapped a voice, every inch the aristocrat. "I don't come on stage for one night, and some nobody steals my spotlight." Jellylorum froze. They were talking about that young actor cat. "Well if someone didn't throw temper tantrums like a drama queen, we wouldn't be in this situation." "You're my manager," the first voice snapped. "You're supposed to make sure this sort of thing doesn't happen." The scrawny looking cat who had made the announcement at the beginning of the play sat near the door, just within her sight. He looked haggard and tired, as if worn thin by the stress of managing his prima donna employer. "What do you want me to do?" he asked wearily. "Get rid of the understudy," Grindlevine declared. "He's part of the company. I can't do that," the manager muttered. Grindlevine leaned forwards, allowing Jellylorum to see him grin evilly. "Then persuade him to leave," the actor sneered.
Jellylorum swiftly hid from sight before Grindlevine and his manager emerged from the dressing room. They were planning to get rid of that young actor, and after he'd done so well. She hurried off through the theatre, planning to tell her father and see if there was anything they could to do. Running along the narrow corridor however she crashed into a cat coming the other way. "Sorry," she gasped as she wriggled around on the ground, trying to pull herself up. "It's alright. I'm sorry I wasn't looking where I was going," said a calm voice that she recognised. Jellylorum stood up and brushed herself off, before turning around to find herself face to face with Asparagus, the actor from the show. "Are you ok?" he asked politely. "Yes … yes I'm fine," Jellylorum muttered giddily. The actor cat frowned slightly. "You sound a little groggy. Are you sure you wouldn't like to… ok, I've got you," he said as she slid forward, dazed by the fall.
Jellylorum awoke on a soft sofa in a dimly lit room she didn't recognise. There were photographs of famous actors tacked to every wall and pages of scripts filling in the spaces. A mirror was bolted above a chair and desk over to one side, while one wall was taken up with a sleeping alcove that had been gouged out of it. Candles lit the room with orange, flickering light. The brown and grey cat stood up slowly, looking around. Her head felt like someone had drilled into it with a rusty corkscrew and her legs were weak. A grey and black tabby sat at the desk, rising to meet her. "You should lie down," the young tom said, taking her paws and guiding her back to the sofa. "What happened?" she asked, nursing her head. "You banged you head quite nastily. I took you back to my room to lie you down." "You live here?" she asked, looking around again. The room was tiny, the actor's personal belongings falling over each other in the little cupboard. Asparagus shrugged. "It's part of a theatre cat's life. Only the big visiting stars get large rooms, those of us attached to the theatre find room where we can."