“Is she all right?”
Her mother looked away.
“Tell me,” Portia ordered.
Lady Maclean swung around to face Portia, taking her hand. “You truly believe there is a cat, don’t you?”
“I know there is a cat.”
Her expression concerned, her mother slowly shook her head no. She went to the door and called for Minnie.
After a few minutes, Minnie came to the room. Her face broke out into a smile when she saw Portia sitting by the window. “Are you feeling better? We were all so worried. Ollie debated whether or not he should examine you. He believed we should wait and see how you felt when you woke. You are all right, aren’t you, Portia?”
“I’m fine,” she answered. “But Mother insists I am imagining my cat Owl.”
The smile died on Minnie’s face. She looked to their mother, who nodded as if urging her to admit what she knew. “You are,” she told Portia. “There is no cat.”
Portia came to her feet. “There is a cat. Her name is Owl. You were in the sitting room the day I found her in the attic.”
Minnie had clasped her hands in front of her. She appeared ready to cry.
“We set out a bowl of cream for her every night,” Portia said. “You do it for me when I am busy.”
“I do it to help you,” Minnie said.
“Because we havea cat,” Portia was close to shouting.
Minnie shook her head. “No, dear, we don’t. You imagine the cat.”
If she had said the sky was as green as grass, Portia could not be more surprised. “Minnie, are you daft? Of course we have a cat. Why, the cream is gone from the bowl every evening.”
“Because I pour it out,” Minnie answered. ”I understand why you would imagine a pet that you could confide in. I’ve explained to Ollie that you’ve carried the weight of this family on your shoulders. It has been challenging.”
Portia took a step away from her mother and her sister. Were they trying to tell her that Owl didn’t exist? How could that be true when she’d held that cat and petted her? She’d felt Owl’s weight, slight as she was, in her arms.
Their mother spoke. “We would have been fine letting you pretend. However, our family’s circumstances are about to change. I haven’t said a word about your pet to Alastair.”
“Ollie understands your need for an imaginary pet,” Minnie chimed in. “He’s had patients who have imagined all sorts of things in order to manage their lives. Such as Crazy Lizzy and those dolls she calls babies.”
“However,” Lady Maclean continued, “if you are going to live under my roof, you can’t keep carrying on about the cat. You must give the cat up.”
For a moment, Portia doubted her own sanity. And then she thought of Harry. “Colonel Chattan has seen the cat. He knows Owl exists.”
“Alastair told me that the colonel claimed to have seen a cat, but there are so many about,” her mother said, “who is to say if it is your cat or not? And, Portia, if you wish to secretly pretend you still have the cat, then that is fine. Just please be prudent. Not everyone will understand you the way your sister and I do.”
“I even put the cream out last night,” Minnie said proudly.
Portia had witnessed Owl drinking the cream ... or had she?
“No cat?” she said, looking to these two people who loved her more than anyone else in the world.
They both shook their heads.
“May I have a moment alone?” Portia said. “I need to polish my teeth—” She was going to cry, and here she had not thought she had tears left.
“Of course,” her mother said, heading toward the door as if relieved an unpleasant interview was over.
Minnie was right behind her. “Glennis has fresh buns for breakfast. Shall I bring up a tray? Or will you come downstairs?”
