After lunch Georgina Dallymore, the Assistant Chief Constable at Bath, took an hour off work and drove out to the cattery at Monkton Combe. She’d decided to board Sultan while she was away on holiday. She needed to be sure it was a place where he would be treated kindly. He wouldn’t get the devoted attention he got at home, but he was entitled to some comfort, and she was willing to pay. She’d brought along the framed photo she kept on her desk, just to make clear how special he was.

She expected a better response than she got.

“He’s a long-hair, then,” Mrs O’Leary, the cattery owner noted without a word about his good looks. “He’ll need grooming.”

“Every morning.”

“Getting down to basics . . .”

“Yes?”

“Getting down to basics, has he been done?”

Georgina frowned. Even an officer of her rank didn’t always catch on immediately. “I don’t follow you.”

Mrs O’Leary gave a wink, raised two fingers and mimed the action of scissors. “I won’t have rampant males making nuisances of themselves in Purradise.”

This was the moment Georgina decided there was no way Sultan would be happy in Purradise. “He was neutered as a kitten, if that’s what you mean.”

“I should have known, looking at the picture. He’s too dopey-looking for a stud. Is he up to date with his injections?”

“Fully.”

“Any problems I should know about? Parasites?”

“I don’t think I need take up any more of your time,” Georgina said, putting the photo away. “I’ve several other addresses to visit.”

“Please yourself. You won’t find one better than this.”

“I’ll make up my own mind, thank you.”

“Where are you off to, anyway?”

“That’s really no concern of yours.”

“I’m not asking which catteries you’re trying. I’m talking about your holiday.”

Georgina couldn’t resist telling Mrs O’Leary, “Egypt. The Nile Cruise, as a matter of fact.”

“Not bad. I thought you police were underpaid.”

“It’s my first overseas trip in ten years.”

“They treated their cats like gods, the Ancient Egyptians. They were more important than people. Did you know that?”

“Yes, and I applaud it. Good afternoon.” Georgina turned and walked with dignity towards her car.

“Stuck-up cow,” Mrs O’Leary said. “You’ll end up paying through the nose for some house sitter who runs up enormous phone bills and burns holes in your carpet.”

But she wasn’t heard.

The House Sitter
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