If on a Winter's Night a Traveller

 

If on a Winter's Night a Traveller 618

I was lying on the couch and feeling down. I was missing my cats. It was the first time for years that I had been catless. I looked at my phone and saw that Marie Pierre had sent me a photo of Patch that morning. I scrolled down and looked at the photos that she had sent in the three years that I had been back in the UK. She was such a beautiful cat and I regretted that because of the pandemic it had not been possible to return to Brittany to bring her here with the other two. Now Bella and Cheeky were not with me anymore but I was pleased that Patch was still in Brittany. La ville Joly was surrounded by fields unlike here with just a handkerchief of a garden and a busy road.

I can't pretend that I don't miss her. I thought I could take the Eurostar to Paris and then and then- just thinking about it makes me tired. Every year, nay every week and every day I feel more and more tired.

Looking at the photos again I felt a bearable lightness of being. I rolled off the couch and stood up. It was midnight. The next thing I was standing in my garden. There are no wild things in this garden but propped up by the door is my old broom stick. Oh my god I thought why have I never thought of it before. In fact I was sure I'd left it in France. My familiar Sooty died years ago. Still flying alone wont be a problem. I 'll just nip into the house and check a few spells on my laptop before leaving.

Making myself invisible at short notice if necessary is easy. Without a cat (Sooty was quite a weight) I can take my tablet which will also be useful to check my route on Google maps. I donned my black trousers , black polo necked jumper and my old burbery rain coat which could fly out like wings. If spotted I would look like a bird.

Here I go. Due south to Birmingham then straight down to Poole where I used to get the ferry. Now cross the Channel to St Malo and on to St Meen Le Grand, follow the 164 then the D6 and finally the D16 to Merillac.

Where shall I land? Extremly loud but incredibly close music emanates from next door. It must be the neighbour's teenagers. If I remember correctly there is a good place by the pond, where Patch and I sat every morning to drink my first cup of tea. Flying over the tree where there was a cuckoo's nest I land neatly and prop my broom stick under the tree. It is a cloudless night and the full moon is reflected in the water.

Wouldn't it be ideal now if Patch came out to -hunt mice --. Shsh. I can hear faint mewing. Pss pss. Here, here. She jumps up and nuzzles me just as though I have never been away. She has dropped a mouse at my feet. I stroke her and hug her.

Marie Pierre opens the door of the house. I see her in a pool of light. She calls Patch, Patch psspss, here, here. Patch jumps down and pads away towards the house. The church bell tolls obviously for me. I comfort my self with the thought that I can return and and----

Stretching out and yawning my fleece falls on the floor. Even if it was a dream it was comforting to spend a few minutes with my beautiful Patch.