Extract from Emma Jones

Play an .mp3 extract (940 KB) from the music which forms part of the multi-media package.

Extracts from the text

Joseph K was a very large cat. He was almost twice the size of an ordinary cat and one third larger than a large Tom cat. His size was certainly remarkable but what made him even more singular was his coat and the markings on his coat which were gold and white with black stripes.

Joseph K was given his name by his manservant for the reason that it would be a talking point for his friends, particularly his girl friends, and would give the impression that he had an intellectual superiority amongst his circle. Although he did not admit this to anyone, least of all himself, he had not read the book from where he derived the name.

Her response was brief and to the point:

"Don't tell me that you love me,
Don't tell me that you care,
Don't tell me how the sunlight
Lightens up my hair.

"Don't tell me I'm your summer
Or I'm your Autumn song,
Don't tell me that you'll never,
Ever, ever do me wrong..."

Then when all the tigers were satisfied that there were no humans abroad they looked up at the sky and sang the song of the tiger. It was the first and also the last time that Joseph K heard it.

"We are sailing in a thousand stars
We are moving from the light
The earthly constellation
Is moving into night.
The summer sun has scorched the earth
And all the grass is brown -
Then human voices wake us
And we drown.

Our eyes can see the distant bright,
Our eyes can see the stars..."

Joseph K sat in the warm room cleaning his paws of the drops of milk and shining his coat. The sun shone through the French windows and on to the arm chair where he sat. He could see the fine dust in the beams of light. He could hear the sound of grandma Jones next door in the garden as she pulled the weeds from the soil.

"The blackbird called her from her sleep
It called to Mrs Emma Jones
The sunlight woke her from the deep
To tell her she was all alone.

She lay there in the empty room
And listened to the empty space
She listened to her beating heart
A single tear upon her face.

He stole away into the night
He left his Mrs Emma Jones
He left her in the cool moonlight
Silent on the paving stones.

The sea had called him from afar
The wind and waves had called him home
He left the blackbird and his song
To tell her she was all alone."

She cried for her lost youth. She cried for her lost bloom and the time that had passed. She cried for her empty womb. She cried for her gift of creating beauty that would die with her when she died.

"The Tiger, however, cannot be tolerated by humans. It is a free spirit. It lives alone in the deepest parts of the jungle. It is mysterious and fabulous and silent as the snowfall. Its strength and speed are legendary. Its beauty is fearful. Its mind is subtle. Its character is majestic. It is not of this world but of the gods. It is not an animal of reality but of mythology. And because humans cannot understand the Tiger, they fear it. And because they fear it they must efface it."

The reddleman was a cat twice the size of Joseph K and was red from head to his tail. To most humans the tales of a large cat roaming the English countryside, occasionally leaving identifiable footprints and supposedly attacking sheep, were merely the quaint superstitions of the poor and isolated farmers.

But since the 19^th century the countryfolk of the West Country were well aware of the existence of the large and mysterious cat and had named him after the traveller who walked the length of the country roads that covered the western counties, providing the redding to the farmers for their sheep.

His steps slowed down. He grew hot and his shirt felt sticky. He wanted to turn around but somehow he kept going forward. The small group was now turning to him and looking at him. One or two of them had a stern and disapproving attitude towards him. One of them detached himself from the group and came towards him. He felt faint. His mind was numb. The man was talking to him but he couldn't understand what he was saying.

The reddleman licked his feet and scraped his extended claws against the great chestnut tree that grew in the centre of the communal garden, and waited. Soon, very soon, the matter would be resolved and he would be free to return to the moors and the woodlands and the misty mornings and the starlit darkness of the silent countryside.

Next: Contact details...

Site map