Paige awoke with a start, forgetting at first where she was. Turning, she felt a jolt of pain as her chestnut shoulder-length hair caught in the sleeping bag zip. She rolled off the sofa with an undignified thump.
‘Ow!’ she yelped, dislodging Norwegian Forest cat Dita, who had been curled up in a fluffy ball by her shoulder.
Disentangling a strand of hair, Paige stared at her dilapidated surroundings, at the dusty furniture and sprawling mess. With the bungalow almost falling apart around her, Paige wondered if she’d made the right decision.
‘What have I done, Dita?’
Sighing, she crawled out of the sleeping bag. The contrast between the queen-sized bed she shared with her partner Alex in his immaculate, modern apartment couldn’t have been greater.
There was so much to do now. And she needed help. But the immediate priority was getting Dita to the vet for a check-up. After living rough, her coat was in poor condition and she needed attention.
Remembering where Louie had kept the cat carrier, Paige anticipated some trouble loading the lively tabby, but Dita seemed happy to be transported in Paige’s car to the veterinary practice.
Thankfully, Dita was in better shape than Paige had thought. While flea and worming treatments were administered, she sent a text to Orla and grabbed a coffee from the machine in the waiting room.
When they returned to the bungalow, Orla was standing by the broken house-name sign that read Blue Belle.
‘I never would have believed it, but you’ve proved me wrong,’ said Orla. ‘You’ve left
