Oh, that’s a pretty one!

Stephanie knelt down and picked up the shell, flipping her long curls over her shoulder so they wouldn’t get in the way. It would make a great addition to her ever-growing collection. Aunt Bess had asked her what she planned to do with them all, but she had no idea. Maybe she would just keep them as souvenirs of her time in Whitby after she went back to London to resume her acting career.

She hated to admit it, but she liked it here. It was so calm and serene, unlike the endless hustle and bustle of the city. She could wear simple dresses and walk barefoot along the shore. No longer did she need to be accompanied by a bodyguard when she left the house. She felt so free, although she had felt the same way at the theatre. Maybe she would …

Meow

Stephanie straightened up and looked around her. Was it just her imagination or had she heard a cat? What would a feline be doing on the beach? They hated water. Placing the shell in her basket, she stood still and held her breath.

Meow

There it was again. And again. Slowly and silently, Stephanie began following the sound.

The days where Mable did not find herself at the beach at least once in a day were few and far between since settling into Whitby.  she had made it her home just as much as she had the hotel she was staying at, and St. Hilda's church.  She was becoming more and more familiar with the waves and the sand and the driftwood and the boats and their schedules and it delighted her.

Today, though, she was digging.

Not for anything in particular.  She had an argument with her brother that morning that still sizzled under her skin, and rather than taking it out on some poor innocent person, she decided she would dig a whole deep enough to bury her frustrations.

And so far, it was working!  She was about elbow deep into sand, and the grains were scratching her hands and her fingers were getting wrinkled from the wet, but Mable felt a whole lot better than she did when she started.  Almost nothing could have paused her in her efforts.  Key word, almost.

Because when a strange but familiar sound came creeping across the wind to Mable's ears, the girl just about froze.  Because that - that sounded like a cat!

Her attention was stolen completely by the sound, which seemed to come from some rocks below where grass ended.  She followed, entranced and endlessly curious.

The sounds led Stephanie away from the shore and toward a large cluster of rocks. There was more than one cat there, of that she was certain. Maybe a mother cat had hidden her litter somewhere within. They liked to raise their kittens in secluded places and she used to help the gardeners on her family’s estate search for cats who had recently given birth. She had been quite adept at finding them.

And she would find these too … unless the girl heading toward the area from the opposite direction beat her to it. She must have heard the sounds too. Stephanie quickened her pace and when she reached the rocks, she saw a flash of bright orange fur that quickly disappeared into a crevice.

“I saw one!” Stephanie exclaimed, smiling at the girl, who looked close to her in age. “It ran away from me. It’s probably scared.”

Mable was so focused on the possibility of cats, and the noises they were making and where it was coming from, she hadn't noticed another girl approaching until she spoke.  She stopped where she was, looking between the rocks she was still hearing meows, and the girl.  She was smiling!  Mable smiled back.

"Those poor babies!" she said, a hand on her chest.  "I hope they're alright.  What are they even doing here?"

Rocks on a beach weren't the best place for baby kittens, Mable didn't think, but she was far from an expert.  Not moving any closer but kneeling down in the sand, Mable waved a hand to invite the other girl closer.

"Where did you see the cat, in the rocks?  Or on them, or behind them?  My name is Mable by the way!  You have very beautiful eyes, you know!"

“I hope so too.” Stephanie studied the other girl curiously. Her hair was even curlier than her own and she was wearing shabby clothing, much like the street children she had given coins to when she lived in London. The girl also had a nice smile. Perhaps they would become friends. They already had one thing in common … they both liked cats. “I think we need to catch them to make sure they’re okay.”

Stephanie knelt down next to her, placing her basket on the sand. The rock formation reached all the way up to the ground overhead, forming the base of a small cliff. “I think a mother cat had her kittens here and they grew up among the rocks. The one I saw was small. Maybe their mother went to find food for them. They sound hungry to me.”

She blushed at Mable’s compliment. “Thank you. I’m Stephanie.”

Springing to her feet, she stepped up on a rock and placed her hand in the crevice. “It disappeared through here. Maybe it’s still in there. There’s definitely more than one. There’s no telling where they all are.”

Reaching deep into the cleft, Stephanie explored it with her hand as it was too narrow to see much. Just as she touched something soft and furry, she heard a hiss and felt pain explode through one of her fingers. “Ouch! It scratched me!” Pulling her hand back, she looked at the blood trickling from the wound. “They’re mean little things. They probably never saw a human before.”

"Stephanie," Mable repeated, "such a beautiful name too!"  It suited the girl very well, she thought.

The smaller girl held back while the other stepped onto the rings and reached within, and she jumped in surprise when she heard a hiss from within.  Stephanie had been hurt!  Oh, Mable felt terribly for her.

"They must be so scared if they've never seen people before," she said, peaking up at where Stephanie had been scratched.  "Oh, that looks like it hurts!  Are you alright?"

There must have been a better way to lure the baby cats out from the rocks, but Mable did not know it.  She only knew how to tend to small wounds like her friend had, but she didn't want to intrude on the girl.  Her face was so pretty, it made Mable a little nervous.

"if they're hungry, maybe we can leave them some food?  What do cats eat besides mice?"

As the heiress to a large fortune, Stephanie had often been complimented, but had never become accustomed to it. Nor had she ever thought of flattering anyone else. Mable was quite good at it, and she wished that she could tell the other girl that her name was pretty too and she really liked her hair. Unfortunately, she didn’t know how to say it without risking insulting her instead. Maybe Aunt Bess could teach her how to praise people. She would ask her after dinner tonight.

Stephanie popped her injured finger into her mouth. It was a bad habit she had picked up when she lived on the streets of London and had no access to bandages. The taste of dirt mingled with the metallic tang of blood, a familiar but unpleasant flavor.

Pulling it out, she studied the wound, her head tilted to the side. It was still bleeding a little bit, but it was a shallow cut. “It does hurt, but I’ve been scratched by cats before. I’ll be okay.” She sucked on the finger again.

Mable’s question gave Stephanie an idea. “They eat any kind of meat. We can go to my house and get some and bring it back to feed them. It’s not far. Unless you would rather stay with the cats.” Oh, how she hoped that her new friend would want to accompany her!

Seeing Stephanie suck on her own wounded finger had Mable a little surprised, but not at all in a bad way.  The other girl was so pretty and well dressed, it was odd at first to watch her do something Mable herself had done countless times before.  But it also made her feel good.

All girls were the same in the end then, weren't they!  What a nice thing to have confirmation of.

"Let me come with you!" Mable said immediately.  "If I stay here, the kittens night get scared and not come out even if we have food... it would be better to give them some space."

And of course, Mable was endlessly curious about this girl's house.  She was curious about all of her friends' house, honestly.  They were all so different from one another, but always seemed to fit her friends that lived inside of them perfectly!  She could only imagine what Stephanie's might look like.

“Very true,” Stephanie said with a big grin, glad that Mable agreed to come with her.  There was also a chance that the kittens would no longer be there when they returned.  Maybe they weren’t actually lost at all or their mother would come and rescue them while the two girls were gone.  She hoped they stayed, or the raw meat would all go to waste.

“Come on!”  Grabbing her new friend’s hand, Stephanie led her back along the shore, only dropping it when she spied a pretty shell to put in her basket.  It took them about ten minutes to reach the row of brand new houses on the other side of the beach, painted in pretty pastel colors.  They were large and simply constructed, perfect for middle-class families with several children.

Stephanie headed toward a mint-green house at the end of the street.  “This is where I live with my aunt, uncle, and cousins.”  She said nothing about her own parents.  It still hurt when she thought of them.  “We just moved in a couple of weeks ago, shortly after I moved here from London.”

She grabbed Mable’s hand again.  “We’ll go to the back entrance.  It’s usually used for deliveries and the kitchen is close by.  Nobody will see us.  Well, the maids might, but they’ll never tell.”

As they walked around the house, Stephanie glanced over at Mable.  “Where do you live?  Is it close to the beach?”