the fire and sucked the cream cheese out of her roll before setting about the sardines and the bread. Hettie opened her bap and ate the prawns first, then licked the sauce, and finally posted the bread into her mouth just as the kettle came to the boil. Nothing was said as the cats licked and cleaned themselves, and it was Hettie who eventually spoke. ‘This is a rum old case. If I hadn’t met Mavis Spitforce, I’d have said she had it coming to her. On the face of it, she treated her sister very badly and the niece is one of the most revolting cats I’ve ever met – yet Mavis thought thesun shone out of her. It just doesn’t add up.’
Not wishing to intrude, Bruiser excused himself from agency business and took himself off for an afternoon nap down the shed. Hettie brought Tilly up to speed with the morning’s events before settling down with her to look at the charts they’d removed from Mavis Spitforce’s box room.
‘The most interesting thing I’ve found so far is this one,’ said Tilly, unfolding a large piece of paper which chronicled several generations of one family. ‘Look at the name at the top.’
Hettie screwed her eyes up; the print was small and handwritten. ‘It looks like Thaddeus something,’ she said. ‘Why is that interesting?’
Tilly beamed. ‘Ah well, the “something” is important. Look halfway down the page.’ She pointed with her paw. ‘See what that says?’
Hettie tried to make out the name. ‘Murry Spil … no, it’s not Spil, it’s S-P-I … T. Yes, it’s a ‘T’, but the rest of the name is a squiggle.’
‘ SPITFORCE !’ said Tilly, clapping her paws together with excitement. ‘Once you get used to the handwriting you can work it out. And it’s Merry, not Murry.’
Hettie looked closer and agreed that it was indeed ‘Spitforce’. ‘Merry was Mavis’s and Mildred’s father,’ she said. ‘So this is their family tree?’
‘Exactly,’ Tilly confirmed, getting even more excited. ‘Now go back to the top of the page. You got theThaddeus bit right, but look at the second name again.’
Hettie stared at the paper, confused. ‘Well, it certainly isn’t Spitforce. That’s not an ‘S’ and the name is too short anyway. It looks like an ‘M’. Come on, help me out – what does it say?’
‘It says “ MYERS ”! Thaddeus MYERS ! And looking at the rest of the family, I’d say that Thaddeus’s nickname was MILKY . Look – here are his parents and brother and sister; all of them died on the same day. October 31st – Halloween. But Thaddeus survived. He went on to have a son and his son’s son was Merry Spitforce. They must have changed their name along the way. It doesn’t say when Thaddeus died, though.’
Hettie stared at the chart. ‘So Milky Myers was Mavis’s and Mildred’s great, great grandfather. That’s why Mavis was so cross about Marmite Sprat’s book – it was her family that Marmite was writing about.’
Tilly was delighted with her morning’s work, especially as Hettie seemed pleased.
‘There are a couple of other family charts that Mavis had been working on,’ she added, searching through the mountain of paper on the table. ‘She didn’t get very far with this one.’
Hettie looked at the names. This document was much easier to read, and at the bottom of the page she could clearly make out a whole row of Doshes: Rogan, Balti, Bhaji, Masala, Pakora. To make it more interesting, Mavis had traced the family shops as well. ‘That’s quitean empire,’ she said in admiration. ‘The Doshes have stores all over the place. Look – Southwool, Much-Purring, and all the villages in between. She’s gone back to Rogan’s great grandfather. Looks like a work in progress to me – it’s a shame she didn’t finish it.’
‘She managed to get through several rows of Andertons, though,’ Tilly said. ‘She’s traced her back to The Battle of Flooded Field. I think it says she’s got Scottish royalty flowing through her
Not wishing to intrude, Bruiser excused himself from agency business and took himself off for an afternoon nap down the shed. Hettie brought Tilly up to speed with the morning’s events before settling down with her to look at the charts they’d removed from Mavis Spitforce’s box room.
‘The most interesting thing I’ve found so far is this one,’ said Tilly, unfolding a large piece of paper which chronicled several generations of one family. ‘Look at the name at the top.’
Hettie screwed her eyes up; the print was small and handwritten. ‘It looks like Thaddeus something,’ she said. ‘Why is that interesting?’
Tilly beamed. ‘Ah well, the “something” is important. Look halfway down the page.’ She pointed with her paw. ‘See what that says?’
Hettie tried to make out the name. ‘Murry Spil … no, it’s not Spil, it’s S-P-I … T. Yes, it’s a ‘T’, but the rest of the name is a squiggle.’
‘ SPITFORCE !’ said Tilly, clapping her paws together with excitement. ‘Once you get used to the handwriting you can work it out. And it’s Merry, not Murry.’
Hettie looked closer and agreed that it was indeed ‘Spitforce’. ‘Merry was Mavis’s and Mildred’s father,’ she said. ‘So this is their family tree?’
‘Exactly,’ Tilly confirmed, getting even more excited. ‘Now go back to the top of the page. You got theThaddeus bit right, but look at the second name again.’
Hettie stared at the paper, confused. ‘Well, it certainly isn’t Spitforce. That’s not an ‘S’ and the name is too short anyway. It looks like an ‘M’. Come on, help me out – what does it say?’
‘It says “ MYERS ”! Thaddeus MYERS ! And looking at the rest of the family, I’d say that Thaddeus’s nickname was MILKY . Look – here are his parents and brother and sister; all of them died on the same day. October 31st – Halloween. But Thaddeus survived. He went on to have a son and his son’s son was Merry Spitforce. They must have changed their name along the way. It doesn’t say when Thaddeus died, though.’
Hettie stared at the chart. ‘So Milky Myers was Mavis’s and Mildred’s great, great grandfather. That’s why Mavis was so cross about Marmite Sprat’s book – it was her family that Marmite was writing about.’
Tilly was delighted with her morning’s work, especially as Hettie seemed pleased.
‘There are a couple of other family charts that Mavis had been working on,’ she added, searching through the mountain of paper on the table. ‘She didn’t get very far with this one.’
Hettie looked at the names. This document was much easier to read, and at the bottom of the page she could clearly make out a whole row of Doshes: Rogan, Balti, Bhaji, Masala, Pakora. To make it more interesting, Mavis had traced the family shops as well. ‘That’s quitean empire,’ she said in admiration. ‘The Doshes have stores all over the place. Look – Southwool, Much-Purring, and all the villages in between. She’s gone back to Rogan’s great grandfather. Looks like a work in progress to me – it’s a shame she didn’t finish it.’
‘She managed to get through several rows of Andertons, though,’ Tilly said. ‘She’s traced her back to The Battle of Flooded Field. I think it says she’s got Scottish royalty flowing through her
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