“Hullo dearlings,” Elise greeted the children. “What have you got there?”
“These are our kittens,” the little boy, who appeared to be about nine, said solemnly.
“Well if they’re yours, why are you turning them loose under the bushes?” Michael noted that Elise wasn’t being accusatory, but sounded instead like a curious child herself. He was sure she did so to put the children at ease.
“Our mum says we can’t keep ’em, ’cause we have ’nough cats,” the boy said. “An’ everyone knows kittens grows up to be cats.”
She turned her attention to the crying girl, the little thing barely out of nappies, holding onto two of the kittens and petting the third in her lap. “Why are you crying then, sweeting?”
“My kitties.”
“I know they are, and they’re very cute kittens, too,” Elise replied.
“She don
