IV.
One day, during the Easter break, on the way back from Mark's house, Percy spots a cat. It's not the prettiest – or pretty at all in fact – it's fur is unkempt and dirty, one of its pointed ears has a tear in it and its face is all kind of smushed up, it's nosed upturned looking a little squashed onto his face.
It eyes him suspiciously as he crosses its path and hisses scarily when he attempts to reach out and pet it, throwing sharp claws his way. It's white with a few tan splodges scattered on its fur, but the colour is kind of dark and dull compared to the other cats that usually hang around the area.
Percy makes a tutting sound with his tongue, and shimmies a little closer, crouched down close to the ground. "Hiya, haven't seen you around before…" It kind of looks like it needs a hug and a bath and a trip to the vets but right now the animal is hissing and spitting at him and looks a hair away from ripping into him with sharp claws. So, he keeps his hands to himself. "I don't have any food on me, but I'll carry some with me tomorrow, yeah?"
Unsurprisingly, the cat doesn't stop eyeing him like he's scum of the earth.
He doesn't see the cat the next day on the way home from Calum's house, he'd told them about the cat and they'd gone off on a hunt around the neighbourhood carrying tins of tuna but they hadn't seen it then either, and by the time he's home he's fairly certain the cat's gone off to another neighbourhood.
But a few weeks later, he's helping his Papa around in the garage on a slow weekend and out of the corner of his eye, he spots it twisting its way through the pile of old tires lying in a mound by the backdoor. Percy makes a little gasp of surprise and then whispers frantically as loud as he dares to "Papa, don't make a sound, don't move! I'll be right back!"
He doesn't stay to hear his Papa's reply before he's tearing through the workshop and running up the stairs, two at a time, up to the flat. He pushes the door open and scurries into the kitchen, fishing out the tin of tuna and plopping the contents of the can onto a plastic plate and then makes his way back down to the cat as fast as he can.
Papa seems not to have a clue about what's going on because Percy can hear him whispering his name kind of loudly even though he's still under the car, where his son left him.
"Papa, there's a cat!"
His Papa stills and then sighs as Percy slowly pads his way towards the tyre pile. The cat's nowhere to be seen now, but maybe it's just wriggled its way inside the heap. He sets the plate down on the floor, close as he dares and then darts away.
When he gives Papa the all clear, the car mechanic eyes the tuna and his son exasperatingly, "you better clean that up later, or the garage is gonna stink," He ruffles the boy's hair. Percy scowls and tries to straighten the mess as best as he can. "C'mon, Robinson wants his car by three o' clock so let's get back to work."
Later, when they close at seven in the evening, Percy's helping his Papa tidy up for the day and goes back to collect the plate. And there on top of the pile, like an evil queen of the rubbish heap, sits the moody cat, glaring at him like he's some dirty peasant being deigned with her presence. "You're a right snob," He mutters back to her and sticks his tongue out, "Worse than Alexander Watson the third, is what you are." He bends down to collect the plate and blinks. It's empty, seemingly licked clean.
"Percy, you're Dad's waiting!" Papa calls by the front of the workshop.
He looks up to find the summit of Tyre Mountain empty and the cat is nowhere to be seen.
"Coming!" He yells, and turns to leave. "Gonna call you Nancy Bobofit, you stupid cat." He mutters under his breath.