Ten minutes later a loose-bellied beige cat came and plopped itself down on Taryn’s doorstep in the sunlight and stayed there, blinking and purring, as if Taryn had caught and reeled it in on a thread of love she didn’t even know was dangling from her tightly knitted adult soul. As if it had followed its nose to find the girl who had always rushed off to see her grandmother’s cats as soon as her father’s car rolled up at the door of Princes Gate.
