Heaven is Gentle. Бетти Нилс
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a small, bedraggled cat over the sill, a tabby cat, badly in need of a good grooming, with round eyes and an anxious look. She was across the room and had it in her arms before she spoke: ‘Oh, what a prize idiot I am! You poor little beast, I never thought…’ She looked at the Professor, who was standing, his hands in his pockets, watching her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she told him, ‘calling you back like that—it’s a bad start, isn’t it, behaving like a coward.’
He didn’t laugh, but said quite gently: ‘You’re not a coward.’ He was going to say more than that, she felt sure, but for some reason he didn’t; only as his eyes fell on the little cat: ‘Shall I take her up to the kitchen with me? Fred and Hub will look after her.’
‘Oh, please don’t, I’d love to keep her—that’s if you don’t mind. She’ll be someone to talk to.’ She had no idea how wistful she sounded. ‘She’s very thin…’ She looked at the small creature for a minute and then back to her companion’s impassive face. ‘She’s going to have kittens,’ she stated.
‘So I noticed. You will need a box and some old blanket, and she looks in need of a meal. Don’t give her too much to begin with—warm milk if you have any.’ He put a hand on the door. ‘I’ll get a box and something to put inside it—I’ll be back very shortly.’ At the door he turned. ‘Lock the door, Miss Proudfoot.’
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