Part 19 (1/2)

Carrie pushes open the door. Nervously we step through.

A slim-hipped tiger scrambles to her feet, checking out the intruders.

'Desiree was rescued from a restaurant in Texas. We don't declaw any of our animals but she came to us already done so we have to keep her in her own cage because she can no longer defend herself.'

I feel a pang for her: she must feel so vulnerable.

'And this is Oliver. He was found abandoned in a garage in Wyoming. He'd been left on his own in the middle of winter with no food or water and was frostbitten all over.'

Sasha's eyes well up and gently she moves closer but the instant Oliver sets eyes on her he starts freaking out.

Carrie bundles her out of the way.

'I'm sorry, I forgot can you tie back your hair?'

Sasha looks confused as she swiftly winds her hair into a knot. Oliver gradually calms down.

'We think he might have been abused by someone with long hair, it always seems to set him off.'

I grip Sasha's hand and find her shaking.

'Ty's been spending a lot of time with him lately. We think he's making progress but after what these animals have been through it's tough ...' Carrie shakes her head.

It seems unfathomable that anyone could be deliberately cruel but Carrie points out that there's a shocking amount of ignorance in the world, citing the man who thought that if he stopped feeding his tiger cub it would stay the same size...

'Come on, I'll show you the house,' Carrie jollies us out of our slump.

It's a pretty basic wooden bungalow with very little in the way of furniture and tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs but the large kichen/dining area overlooking the preserve is warm and homely and smells of baked ham and cornbread (our upcoming dinner, it transpires). There's a long corridor with three bedrooms and a bathroom off it and a half-painted porch with a hammock at the end. I'm rather taken with the idea of sleeping al fres...o...b..t we've been a.s.signed sleeping bags on an old mattress two doors down. Bit of a contrast to La Valencia.

'I'm just going to have our personal butler run a Jacuzzi for us,' I joke to Sasha as we wheel our suitcases in from the car.

It's pretty spooky in the darkness with the curious walrus-like barking of the cats. I wouldn't like to be staying here by myself and I wouldn't blame Sasha if she suddenly bleated, 'I can't do this!' But instead she seems oddly resigned to her fate, as if she somehow feels she deserves this punishment.

We're just inside the front door when the lights cut out.

'You girls okay?' Carrie finds us in the darkness.

'Fine!' we say gripping on to each other.

'Looks like we got a power cut,' she says matter-of-factly. 'Ty's moved the torches again so we're gonna be blacked out till he gets here. Why don't you come on through to the kitchen it's nice and toasty by the stove.'

'Wood-burning?' I check.

'That's right.'

Sasha continues trembling but I heave a sigh of relief dinner is still on, thank goodness for that!

'You two sit tight,' Carrie instructs as we fumble towards the table. 'How about I fix us some drinks?'

We nod and then realize actions alone are just not going to cut it. 'Yes, please!' we say out loud.

'Now one of these bottles ...' Carrie appears to be sniffing a selection. 'Here it is. I guess we should be having wine with the meal but since I don't have any and this is a special occasion ...'

Lord knows what she hands us but judging from the searing sensation in my throat and the way my eyes water from the fumes I'm guessing at moons.h.i.+ne. We're tiddly in seconds and chat amiably for the next half hour: it feels a bit like we're having an illicit 'lights out' conversation. We're just getting on to Carrie's divorce and how she came to be heading up Tiger Tiger when the distinctive purr and pop of a motorbike whirrs to a halt outside.

'Here he is! Maybe now I'll be able to see to carve the ham!'

The door creaks open and a figure clomps into the kitchen. 'What's going on here?' a male voice rumbles. 'You girls playing hide-and-seek?'

'Where'd you put the torches?' Carrie cuts to the chase.

'I haven't touched them they should be right here ...' There's a shuffling and the squeak of a hinge. 'You know what? Nina was going to get new batteries.'

'You're right,' Carrie confirms. 'Oh well, we'll manage.'

'Are you going to introduce me?' Ty prompts.

'Oh yes!' We hear Carrie c.h.i.n.k a tooth on her gla.s.s as she curtails her slurp. 'This is Lara and Sasha. Not that you can see them, let alone tell them apart!'

'For the record, I'm the really good-looking one!' I pipe up, my squiffiness having gone straight to my tongue.

'And I'm the one who looks like she's been smacked in the face with a shovel!' Sasha giggles, apparently suffering similar symptoms.

'Carrie, I'm guessing you've cracked open that bottle of Sambucca you've been saving.'

Is that what it is? I love it. My new favorite drink.

'Yes I did!' Carrie cheers.

'Good job! I'll get a gla.s.s.'

'You got your bike back then,' Carrie calls after him.

'Yeah, she's running like a dream.'

'Sounds like an old Triumph Tiger,' Sasha observes.

'It is,' Ty's voice comes back in our direction: '1964 cla.s.sic. How'd you know?' he asks with obvious delight.

'I had one. Well actually it was my brother's but he gave it to me when he moved away. Best way to get around London.'

'Well I wouldn't know about that but she sure is nippy! You ever take her on any long runs?'

'Mostly just down to Brighton that's only an hour or two but sometimes I'd continue down the coast.'

'Man, that's the best, isn't it?'