... another extract ...
Then there was the night that Marmalade went down to the river, and didn’t come back. Grace followed Lucy as she ran down the narrow strip of back garden to the gate which led to the water. She couldn’t hear the sound of the river, or the wind in the trees. All she could hear was Lucy squealing. She didn’t hear the splash as the group of evacuee children threw the small bundle into the river, and she didn’t hear their taunts and laughter. Only Lucy’s cries.
‘He’s gone! He’s gone!’
‘Yes – the water’s too fast, you’ll never get to him.’
And Grace held Lucy back from the river to stop her jumping in after him. Her little body shook with sobs and finally began to shiver with cold.
As Grace rubbed her arms and legs and tried to get her to move towards the house, she was very aware of the watcher on the other side. She wondered if that was the enemy within.
Lucy never had another cat. Tom offered to get her one. She said no. Her parents offered to get her one. She said no.
And Grace never felt as close to Lucy again after that day. Or at least not until much, much later.
I'm still not sure whether to carry on writing this story or 'Accidentally On Purpose', which no doubt accounts for the lack of progress with either ...