WDS-Wednesday was Rather Weird, Part B

The train was horribly packed when Jane, John and two handheld animal-carriers covered in tea-towels pushed on at Camden Town station, Fluffy having been left behind since Claudia had forgotten to refuel her van. It appeared that the Northern Line was transporting a large gaggle of college history students that day, who yammered loudly amongst the grumpy commuters who clutched their briefcases as if their lives depended on it. Nobody offered them a seat, nor did they get a chance to sit down, although unlike John, who was still confused as to why he was on the train in the first place, Jane remained benign throughout the whole journey. 1

She remained unruffled even when they switched to the Piccadilly Line at Bank and got some peace, Spike seizing the opportunity to grouch at her as they occupied a compartment of paisley seats all to themselves. He fumed that he had never been so humiliated in his life and that the heat was making him quite cantankerous so they had better watch out. 2

“You sure he can’t breathe fire?” John asked, peering wearing at the wicker basket on Jane’s lap. 3

“Absolutely,” she replied blithely, looking out the window. 4

“Right. Why I am here again?” 5

“We’re going to investigate a house.” 6

“And I’m needed why?” 7

“Because someone’s got to carry Albert.” 8

She started going on about the different sorts of dragons instead of giving John a better explanation. 9

He listened half heartedly to her, the heat making him feel almost as bad as Albert the chicken looked inside of his plastic carrier. The four of them enjoyed an uninterrupted journey until they reached their next stop, Piccadilly Circus, where Jane marched them off and led the way through harassed shoppers, many of whom were puffed out with colourful shoe bags filled with crinkly tissue. The street outside was little better, they battling their way past the bookshop where a famous writer was signing copies of their work. 10

John spied a book that he thought he might like to read when his life was back to normal, although he doubted it ever would be as he followed Jane. She led them into a rather empty alley, one devoid of life compared to the riot on the main street; if John had to guess, he would have said that every building he could see was an office, the ugly sort built forty, thirty years ago. It cooler between them but there was a break in the canyon of concrete and glass bricks, for, squeezed between two particularly ugly blocks of business, was the most peculiar house that John had ever scene. 11

He thought for a moment that Jane had somehow transported him to Egypt, but he knew that that was impossible, even for her. He stared at a pair of Doric pillars framing both a pair of white front doors and holding up the façade carved with Grecian friezes. A pair of nubile woman, firm thighs and pert breasts weathered slightly, wore cobra crowns and supported the upper floor and hefty square of masonry. He couldn’t help but compare them to Jane, who was perusing an inscription on a block of Portland stone as she searched for her skeleton key. He admired the rest of the bizarre building as he waited for her. It was too big to be just a house. He spied some winged scarabs hovering above quadrangular windows that were wider at the bottom than there were at the top, a little like the ground floor windows with their green glass fixed in patterns in lead. 12

John squinted and craned his neck, peering upwards towards the gloomy sky. He caught sight of a border of Nile lotuses facing the street, under which was a large ledge bearing the inscription ‘museum’ in big capital letters. He thought he saw a ram’s head too but his gormless admiration was interrupted just then by Jane tinkling the keys that she had finally fished out of her backpack. She slotted one of them into the brass lock, twisted it and pushed one of the doors open, holding until John mounted the two marble steps with Spike and Albert. 13

She followed him in, John putting the carriers down and opening Spike’s door. The little dragon tried to wriggle out his wicker cage, which, although designed for a large cat, was still a tight squeeze for him due to his Labrador appetite. He nevertheless pulled himself out, tugging off a few green scales that fluttered to the floor; John watched as Jane swooped and hurriedly picked them up. She put them in a pot that would normally be used for camera film as Spike let Albert out. 14

“Well, this is it,” Jane said optimistically, “Egyptian House!” 15

She held her arms out wide as she turned a full circle around the unassuming entrance hall. The floor was made of rather wide, very long planks of green-grey coloured wood that made John wonder if a whole tree had been sliced like a cheese to make them. The ceiling was high and the walls were blandly decorated. The one in front of him and the one behind were a pale olive colour, and other two, on his left and right, were a pale apricot hue that had faded over the years. The staircase on the left was the same grubby white as the doorframe and the door near it, through which Spike went at Jane’s behest as Albert pecked his way across the dusty floor to the already open door. 16

“You go through there, John,” she told him, “And I’ll go and check upstairs.”17

“What am I supposed to be looking for?” John asked, nonplussed. 18

“See, this is why you shouldn’t have brought him-!” 19

“Spike, please. Not now.”20

The dragon in question huffed and waddled off, grumbling to himself about inadequate helpers and useless tag-alongs. His scales rasped a little on the floorboards as he stood on tiptoe, struggling to reach the tarnished brass doorknob. 21

Jane sighed fondly and looked back at John. 22

“You know, the usual; fragments of egg, skin samples, dust. Just bag whatever you find and-”23

She was cut abruptly by a deafening squawk from Albert as a bone chilling yowl from what sounded like a very large cat rung throughout the house. The rooster, who seemed to John to have benefited from being tested on magically by Uncle Dunstaffernage, came hurtling out of the open doorway, his stubby wings tucked behind his feathered backside as if in fear of a rear assault. The contortion Albert had to do in order to protect himself so meant that he had a very upright appearance as he dived for the safety of his towel-clad carrier box. His two human fellows jumping themselves and Spike hid as a big black panther burst through the doors and landed sprightly on its four paws in the middle of the hall. 24

It yowled at John, who took a hasty number of steps backwards to where Jane was standing, frozen in fright herself. The panther was wearing a gold necklace made of flat links joined together. A large oval sapphire formed the centrepiece, John saw wildly, as the cat put a paw forwards. 25

“JAY!” 26

If it was at all possible, John thought that the panther paled a shade or two and looked fearful as the queenly but domineering voice echoed through the house; retracting his front foot quickly, Jay seemed to fold in the middle as he peered over his sleek shoulder to where the new sounds of skittering claws, padding feet and short breath mixed with bad words was coming from. A second, smaller, sand coloured cat appeared in the open doorway, John staring at her done-up humanoid face. 27

She-John guessed that it was a female-had daubed her upper eyelids in bright blue paint and thickly outlined and pointed her lashes with black mascara. Her woman’s lips were a sort of cerise colour and it did not take John very long to realise that he was staring, impossibly, at a rather angry sphinx, who by that point had reached the submissive looking panther, walking up to him on all fours. She stood up on two like a kangaroo when she got to him and latched eyes on the humans in the room. 28

“Who the Devil are you?” She asked none too amiably. Her crossed arms were like a cat’s, the claws browned as she regarded them haughtily. She wore a gold ring with a ruby on one toe and, on her ankle above it, a plain gold bracelet that was like a bit of piping. 29

“I’m Jane,” and John saw her take a step forward, a vague smile on her face, “and this is John. Our friend Spike’s here too, hiding behind that door,” she pointed to the far side of the room, “and Albert’s back in his carrier. Your friend scared him quite a lot, you know-”30

“And if you were abandoned in an old house with no food and no key, I can assure you that you would feel the need to chase after even the scrawniest bird that came strutting by your room!”31

The sphinx stamped her back paw like a child, and nodded succinctly to prove her point. The panther just yowled pathetically, and Jane pulled out a notebook and pen from her backpack, before flipping to a new page. 32

“Who abandoned you here?” Jane said in a business-like way. 33

“Who do you think?” Was the huffy reply, “Desdemona, of course-”34

At that moment, Spike stuck his pointed snout out of his hidey-hole with a strangled cry of “DESDEMONA?” 35

“Spike!” Jane cried, exasperated but with a concerned frown on her face. 36

The sphinx sniffed snobbishly, studying her nails with an upturned but pretty human nose as the woman apologised by saying, “Sorry about that. He’s a bit a short on manners.” 37

Jane shot Spike a mild glare, the first real sign of distemper that John had ever seen from her. The dragon wisely disappeared behind his door again and Jane resumed her questioning. 38

“What’s your name?” 39

“Arsinoe Berenice Cleopatra-Cleo, for short.” 40

Spike snorted derisively from the right side of the Hall, but was ignored in favour of a slightly confused prompt from Jane. 41

“No surname?” 42

“I use Arsinoe. Arse-sin-no-way.” 43

Cleopatra pronounced her clearly improvised surname as if speaking to a particularly dim child, although Jane nevertheless scribbled its correct pronunciation down and asked the question.44

“What about your friend here? Does he have a name?” 45

A nose that was aristocratic screwed itself up a little. “Jayant. Or, if you want his original name, Jaropelk. That is what they called him at the zoo in Poland where he came from. However, the Sultan, preferred to call him Jawdat.” 46

Jane noted everything down, frowning. 47

“He’s not from a private zoo?” 48

“Hardly.” 49

Cleopatra looked somewhat affronted, as she stroked and caressed what she could reach of the panther, continuing, “He was born in one in Arabia. He was the beloved pet of the Sultan there, but he was gifted to a zoo in Poland for breeding purposes, then Desdemona stole him so she could have a real pet cat.” 50

She paused. 51

“I believe that the Sultan is rather annoyed at the zoo for having a useless security system.” 52

“And how long have you been here?” Jane asked politely, jotting every single word down. 53

“Three months, all told.” The sphinx sneered a little, “But Desdemona cleared out two days ago. She took her clothes and jewellery but left us in the old theatre with nothing to eat and only tap-water to drink. Her selfishness is despicable!” 54

“Now that I agree with!” Spike chipped in from behind the door, which Jane looked at mildly as she put her notepad and pen back in bag and pulled out a brick-like mobile phone. 55

“This place is due for demolition tomorrow, so you’ll have to come with us, Miss Arsinoe. I’m afraid though that Jay will have to go someplace else; we just haven’t got the room or facilities for him at home.” 56

The look of pain on the humanoid face was blatant. Cleopatra looked as though she might cry, as she gripped the black fur that she had been paying silent homage too and made Jay yowl. 57

“Where will he go?” She demanded to know. “His is a healthy cat-he has needs, you know-”58

Jane was already typing the number for the RSPCA into the keypad as she said kindly, “I’m sure that he’ll happy when he get’s back to Poland-”59

“There are things that only I can give him-” 60

“-and I’m sure that there’ll bee a nice female him too.” Jane smiled with unswerving kindness and encouragement as the phone in her hand crackled and a voice flared to life on the other end. 61

John, having realised precisely what Cleopatra meant, felt a little ill. He turned to Jane, who proceeded to tell the disbelieving RSPCA receptionist that she was an estate agent and that she had come across a large cat in the basement of the house she was surveying. She added that she believed that the cat had been stolen from a zoo in Poland earlier that year and that the squatters, wanted criminals who had fled, had been responsible for his theft. The last thing she said after the address was that the cat was perfectly friendly but rather hungry, and that he would be waiting in the entrance hall for them.62

“They understood me in the end,” Jane said breezily, hanging up and perfectly unaffected by the look that John was giving her, “And we’d better be off now-Battersea’s not far away and the traffic’s good.” 63

“Why’re going to Battersea?” John asked gormlessly, “I thought we were-?” 64

“Desdemona’s gone and she’ll have taken everything with her, I can tell you that. Let’s go!” 65

Spike waddled out with crossed arms and a superior look. 66

“Just how do you expect to do that, pray tell?” He asked, nodding at Cleopatra. 67

“What do you-? Oh.” 68

Jane realised his point. There were only two carrier-boxes and the plastic one that Albert was in was smaller than that which Spike had travelled in. The latter was small for its occupant, and Cleopatra, although tiny compared to Jay, was a good twenty pounds of feline herself and to boot, she was too bizarre to not draw unwanted attention. It was clear to John that she could not swap places with Albert because her size. The conundrum made the witch tick over until Jane’s eyes fell on her rather empty rucksack. 69

“Well...” 70