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Oli, he said, ‘Keep still!’
    The man wore pyjama bottoms and a vest. He had coarse black hair and huge shoulders: he was half animal himself, with dark skin covered in tattoos. He took a step towards the cat: it snarled,
less confidently.
    ‘Please help,’ said Oli.
    ‘Shh!’
    The man dropped to his knees. He put his hand on the animal’s snout, gently, and massaged its head. The cat relaxed slowly out of its awful attack-stance, but opened its mouth yet wider.
The snarl turned into a yawn and the beast flopped onto its side.
    The man rubbed the cat hard, between the ears, hard enough to hurt. Then he took it by the chin with his other hand and knelt over it. ‘Five minutes,’ he said, gently. ‘I go
for jus’ five minutes!’
    The cat lifted a foreleg and pawed him gently; Millie saw that the man’s right arm was covered in scars.
    Oli was still against the wall, peering down, his hands over his mouth.
    ‘Five minutes,’ said the man again. ‘I jus’ go to the truck for a little check, and – man-oh-man, end of the world! She so scared. Very scared, aren’t
you, baby? Huh? What’s going on ? is that what you thinking, eh?’ He was crooning, as if to a baby in a pram, and all the time stroking the huge head.
    He looked round at Millie. ‘You don’t say anything, OK?’ he said. ‘I am so sorry, but you get her so scared. We better go.’ He looked back at Oli. ‘This is
big trouble – I am so sorry, I don’ know why I come in here.’
    He pulled the animal’s head right round and the cat got to its feet and allowed itself to be led. As the animal faced him, Oli went into spasms, his hands shaking; a high-pitched cry
wavered out of him.
    ‘Is OK, OK!’ said the man. ‘She was thinking you dangerous, but she knows now. Is OK, keep still! Give me your hand.’
    Oli tried to snatch his arm out of the way, but the man caught it by the blazer sleeve. He took the child’s wrist and led the palm over the cat’s head. Slowly, carefully, he brought
it round to the muzzle.
    ‘OK, you see? Now she knows . . . Now she know there’s no problem. Follow me.’
    ‘I want my brother,’ said Oli.
    ‘One minute, jus’ come with me one minute. Both of you.’
    ‘Come where?’ said Millie. She barely recognised her own voice. ‘I think we should leave.’
    ‘One minute.’
    The man led his cat along the corridor. It had a heavy, powerful walk, and from behind Millie could see that its belly was huge and heavy.
    Five doors down, they came to one that was open: a section round the handle had been broken and was jagged shards of wood.
    ‘Oh, Violetta !’ groaned the man. ‘You gonna get me in such trouble: we gotta go, right now . . .’
    The cat’s mood had changed. It was surly and bored, and it ambled into the room, clambering straight up onto the bed. The stink of wild animal was heavier than ever. Millie and Oli watched
transfixed as the cat turned and turned, the bed-frame groaning under the weight. The sheets were torn and filthy. The cat settled; it dropped into comfortable repose and yawned again, as if to
show off those magnificent fangs.
    ‘What is it?’ said Millie.
    ‘Is a panther. Is a black panther.’
    ‘I thought,’ said Oli, ‘I thought . . . that . . . it was going to eat me.’
    ‘She don’ want to eat no one; she’s got other things on her mind. She gonna sling the babes any day now, I think tonight maybe. Thass why I put her in my room.’
    ‘Oh . . . she’s pregnant!’ said Oli.
    ‘Course she’s pregnant – look at her! She got five or six babes there. Boy-oh-boy, she get scared so easy, man. You knock on the door, or what?’
    ‘No,’ said Oli. ‘I was looking for my room. I was walking past and I heard the noise, and I thought someone was . . . possibly interfering with my things . . . And then
suddenly . . .’ The child’s voice was wobbling. ‘I was trapped!’
    ‘Is OK,’ said the man. ‘You did good – you a very brave boy.’
    ‘I thought