The alley smelled horrendous. Rubbish bins overflowed with rotten food, empty wrappers, and filthy rags. Some of the bins had been knocked over, their contents spilling out onto the snow like an outbreak of black mould.
Winkit wrinkled her nose as she trotted past, making her way to the carcass of a rusted motor carriage long stripped of its essential parts by thieves and ne’er-do-wells. Leaping up on what remained of its bonnet, she sat erect and let out a long high-pitched yowl. It echoed along the alley, making the rubbish bins resonate. She repeated it three more times, took a pause, and then started the call again.
Within minutes another cat appeared, a shorthaired tabby with a chunk missing from his tail. He sat in front of her and joined in her call. Another cat appeared, this tim
