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Chapter 5: At the Fair.
Gypsy clears the day from her mind. The watch in her collar says 1.19 pm, which is in fact 1.14 because she always keeps it five minutes fast. Her remarkably full morning offered no break for Gypsy, who has been busy since the fair opened at 10 am. It is the cat’s sixth year, and her reputation ensures a line of eager questioners… waiting until Gypsy is ready to consult the rock and see what is revealed for each person.
Now, needing to refresh herself, wanting to eat and enjoy a rest, Gypsy pushes the button on her commander collar. In an instant Pippin and Winky are before her. “Lads,” she says, “let’s share the meal you have ready, and Pippin, would you please tell the people waiting, that soon… in say thirty minutes, I’ll recommence story telling for them. If the queue is growing, do our favourite fish and chip shop number thing, so people can wander off and not lose their place.”
Gypsy moves to the low standing table in the corner. Three places are set, each with a serviette ring from recycled native timber, and a flax linen table napkin. Plus a fish knife and fork with bone handles, which are especially nice to hold. The table setting is complete with a decorated plate, the size of a small soup coupe. Pippin returns, bringing a fish pie and a jug of fresh, rich creamy milk. Winky, who has prepared the dish to a favourite recipe, does the honours, serving it and pouring the matching drinking bowls half full.
Blue cod lightly smoked with manuka combines its delicate nuances with potato, onion, garlic, fresh peas and Florence fennel. With a sprinkling of dill seed and a very generous dollop of cream, the rich pie is delicious. The three friends tuck in with gusto. Satisfied quiet purring fills the tent.
“That,” says Gypsy, “was just the tonic I needed to restore my energy.”
Pie finished, plates licked clean, Gypsy replenishes their bowls with milk and drinks her fill. Settling on her cushion, curling into a tight circle with tail covering her eyes, she rests.
A short power nap, and Gypsy yawns a prodigious jaw-cracker. She stands, her back arched a neat half circle, with her tail a fuzzed bottlebrush. Lying on the tent ground-cover, she rolls slowly, luxuriously side to side. Her face bears a broad grin as she stretches, arches and straightens. “That’s it,” she says, “I’m refreshed, relaxed and raring to go. How’s it looking Pippin?”
“First up, there’s a gentleman you last read for five years ago… he’s very keen. There’s a younger man and woman who wouldn’t take a number, but have stayed waiting patiently. And there are people coming back later, at around the time we have told them to be ready. Also, quite a few have asked for a time to see you once the fair is over, either in their own homes, or at the camper. We explain to everyone that you seldom work from home, but prefer to concentrate on the fairs, where people want to see you on the spur of the moment, rather than coming with high expectations. However we’ve taken contact details… we can let them know when we’ll next be in town.
“Well done my friend, now let’s get this show on the road,” says Gypsy. At her hemi-rock she places her paws at fifteen minutes past the hour and fifteen to the hour. She inscribes a forwards and backwards letter B, drawing in to the centre and up to twelve o’clock, then one paw down each side to six o’clock, and back to where she started – passing through the centre. Gypsy repeats her preparation in reverse.