I had been to Des’ cottage just once before, however, I knew roughly where it was and within half an hour or so, I was walking down the front path. It was out of the way being down towards Aust village, near the original Severn bridge. So it was quite rural and yet within easy reach of Bristol.

It wasn’t a thatched cottage of the chocolate box variety, rather it’s stone walls supported a pan tile roof, with two upstairs bedrooms and three rooms downstairs. A bathroom had been added at a later stage and underneath that the kitchen had been extended to hold a washing machine and fridge. Beyond the lounge was a small conservatory, complete with brass telescope on a stand overlooking the estuary. It really was a splendid spot.

As I walked in a small black something, shot off into the bushes. It made me jump out of my skin. If it was rat, it was a monster, so I hoped it was a cat, perhaps Tonka.

I went in the house and looked around, there was masses of film making stuff, his dining room was more like a studio editing room, with various machines and computers. The door had been locked and I could see why–it was presumably quite valuable. Despite his at times apparent disorganisation, his work was so tidily sorted and labelled, I almost cried with relief. There was a lot of stuff, but hopefully, I could get it all in the boot of my car.

I relocked the room and went in search of the cat. There were a few tins of food and some dried biscuit things, so at least I knew which brands to buy. I looked high and low, but there was no sign of the cat, which increased the chances that it was what I had disturbed and it had charged off in fright.

I went out through the back door and looked at the garden, he grew his own veg, or some of it. When did he have time for all this? I wondered. I picked some beans and a couple of lettuce to take back with me.

Back inside the house, I re-entered the editing room and removed all the material for the film to my car. I was aware of someone watching me, and looked up to see an old lady standing in her garden across the road. Hoping she’d know about the cat, I went to speak with her.

“Hello, I’m a friend of Des’ and I’ve come to take the cat back with me, except there’s no sign of her.”

“It’s not a cat you’ve bin loading into your car,” she said tartly.

“No, he asked me to look after the film we were making together. I thought it was safer to remove it until after the place has been valued. I’m still hoping we can finish it, we did quite a lot of work on it.”

“You’re not the woman who was ‘ere t’other week.”

“No, I’m not. Look, if I tell you something, can I ask you to keep it confidential?”

“Depends what it is, you’d better come in.” She led me into her house, a modern bungalow and I sat in the kitchen with her as she made some tea. After she poured us two cups and put a plate of cake between us, she sat down and said, “So what’s this secret, you ain’t secretly married?”

I blushed, “No, it’s all a bit incestuous really.”

“You’re not his sister or something like that?”

“Sorry, no I didn’t mean it literally, rather that it’s all a very small world. Des and my fiancé went to school together, so did my future sister in law, the woman you saw the other week. They had just got engaged and he gets killed a few days later. She is bereft as you can imagine.”

“I got to know Des through our work, he makes films and I’m a biologist at Portsmouth university–I don’t chop things up in test tubes, I go out counting animals and weighing them, that sort of thing. Anyway, my specialty is dormice, and Des wanted to make a film about them, so we were collaborating on it.”

“I had met Des a few times, because he knew Simon, my fiancé and Stella his sister. My parents lived in Bristol and I inherited their house a couple of months ago when my father died. So Des came to dinner a couple of times. I knew he fancied me because he tried it on, but I managed to stop any amorous ideas he had. Then a a couple of weeks ago, he met up with Stella, quite by chance and after they spent a few days together, they got engaged. Then he meets with an accident coming back from a film assignment. We attended the funeral last week.”

“I know,” said the old lady, “I saw you there and talking to his dad afterwards.”

“Yes, he asked me to go and see a firm of solicitors this morning, which I did, when I learned that Des had left his entire estate to me.”

“So, you’ll be selling the cottage then?”

“I won’t be doing anything for sometime, it all has to be assessed and valued for the tax man and that could take a while. I will, however, come down and check on stuff when I can.”

“So what was it you wanted me to keep in confidence?”

“All of this I suppose, no one else knows about the will yet. In time they obviously will–no pun intended, which will give more time to decide what I’m going to do about it. Please help yourself to anything from the garden, vegetables and salad stuff.”

“I suppose you’ll want the key then?”

“You have a key?”

“Yes, to water his plants and feed the cat.”

“I wondered how he did it when he was away.”

“She spends half her time here anyway.”

“Would it be asking too much, to enquire if you’d like to keep her, if she’s settled with you, it might be easier for her.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.”

“If I take her, and I’m happy to do so, she may not take to the move too kindly, plus I sometimes have dormice at home and that could prove a problem. I’d be happy to help with vets bills and things.”

“As you haven’t sorted the house yet, I’ll look after her temporary like.”

“I haven’t introduced myself, have I, I’m Cathy Watts.” I offered her my hand.

“I’m Olive Green, don’t laugh, I was born Olive Smith, how was I to know my husband would be Sid Green?” She shook my hand.

“Thanks for looking after Tonka, help yourself to the food in the house, I’ll try and bring some more down next week. Don’t hesitate to let me know if she costs you money.”

“You don’t look that flush yourself.”

“I’m not particularly, but in a way, I’m spending Des’ money to look after his cat, so it has a sort of poetic justice about it.” We chatted for a few more minutes and then I left driving back home and putting all the film stuff safe. Tomorrow, I’d phone the BBC and ask to speak to the couple of names he had mentioned, maybe they could help save the film project.”

At least the cat had been sorted. I went and woke Spike up and told her all about the cat I didn’t see, while I fed her a brazil nut.