CHAPTER FOUR
Monday morning arrives, and I am waiting outside Dr McLatchie’s surgery ten minutes before she is due to open at nine am. I’d spent the weekend sneezing, not sleeping and making tearful phone calls to Katya and my mum, all of which I had to do outside in the howling wind. Friday’s fine weather had lulled me into thinking all those stories people told about how much it rained in Scotland are an exaggeration.
They aren’t.
I discovered too that the more you try to flee a cat, the more they see it as a come-on. Everywhere I went, Ms Mena followed me—even into the toilet. I tried shutting doors, but she howled her head off. Have you any idea how disconcerting it is to sit on the loo while a cat watches you without blinking? I blushed as I imagined her having conversations with t
