Traditional colour tattoo of a woman's profile nuzzling a black and white cat inside an orange-outlined heart, with a red flower and leaves, on a forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Woman and cat in a heart on a forearm

Traditional · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A traditional-style tattoo shows a woman in profile facing a black and white cat within an orange-outlined heart. A red five-petalled flower with black leaves sits at the left edge and more black leaves curl at the lower right. The bold black outlines are filled with flat red, pink, grey and orange tones, with soft shading on the woman's hair and cheek.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

By the third week of October you know the cat's habits better than the vicar's. Tuppence sleeps on the bolt of blue serge at the back of the haberdashery, wakes when the church clock strikes five, and walks the length of the counter to sit beside the brass till, as if she had been hired to count the coppers. Mrs Pryor says she is a bad omen. You say nothing, because you have begun to suspect that Mrs Pryor calls anything a bad omen when she cannot sell it.

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Your mother's letter arrives on a Tuesday, folded twice and smelling of the tea caddy. The Lanchester job in Leeds is still open, it says, and the train leaves Saltcote at seven on Monday. You read it standing at the window with a mouthful of pins. When you look down, Tuppence has climbed onto the sill and is pressing her face to the glass, nose to nose with your reflection, both of you wearing the same expression of polite refusal.

On Friday you pin a red camellia from the florist's bucket into your hair and walk down to the harbour to tell the ferryman you will not be needing his Monday boat. The gulls are squabbling over a crab shell on the slipway. He says he knew before you did, and charges you nothing for the tea. Walking back up Quay Street with the wind pulling at your coat, you realise the letter never asked what you wanted, only where you would be.

The shop bell rings when you let yourself in. Tuppence is waiting on the counter with her tail curled round her paws, and when you hold out your hand she leans into it and purrs as if the matter were settled long ago. You fill the kettle, take down two cups, and start on the blue serge.

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