Chapter 7
A fluffy ginger and white cat headed straight for Diagon Alley at a quick trot. No one paid any attention to a cat walking down the street.
The alley wall Phileas told her of led to the main entrance off Charing Cross Road was closed. The cat waited for someone to come along and darted in beside them. On the way, she wished she had gone down for breakfast before leaving. But to do that would have meant letting Phileas know what she was doing. After his attitude last night, Rebecca didn't feel like being that charitable with him.
Besides, Phileas is the one who got us into this. He should be the one to keep watch at the house. One missing cat might not be noticed. If both of us disappeared, there would be trouble.
Rebecca's stomach rumbled. Then it turned over at the smells coming from the shops to the left. It was a food market. Rebecca put her pink nose in the air and caught the delightful smell of smoked salmon. Carefully, she walked into the market under the tables. The fishmonger was a row off the street. He was a bald man wearing an apron, presently bargaining with a customer over fresh oysters.
Jumping up on the back corner of the table, Rebecca inspected his wares. She didn't want to steal, but it all smelled so heavenly.
The salmon is too big for me to carry off. The perch is too far away. Kippers are too small for one to make a proper meal. Just as the hungry cat was settling for herring, something dropped from the beam work overhead on the fish display.
"A rat!"
The vendor saw the big rat drop a split second after Rebecca. He backed away, looking for something to chase it off with.
Suddenly, the fishmonger saw a ginger blur hit the rat on the run, knocking it off the table. A fight erupted on the aisle floor. People scattered, backing away. He leaned over and saw a ginger and white cat circling the angry rat. She was twice its size. They tussled a few times. The cat got in a vicious smack that sent the rat skidding across the floor. Thinking better of taking on a larger predator, the rat took off through the crowd and out of the market as fast as it could, leaving a trail or frightened pedestrians in its wake.
Rebecca was a bit stunned after the rat ran off. Some instinct in this body had taken over of its own accord. What was I going to do with it if I had killed it? Eat it?
The very thought made her gag.
Loud applause thundered around her. She looked up to see the vendors and customers cheering.
"Good Cat!" the fish vender cried out above all the other praises. He tossed a strip of salmon on the floor under his display table. "Come get it, missy. You earned it." Rebecca didn't have to be told twice. She ate her reward with gratitude.