He knew that meant, Don't steal, don't let yourself be carried off into a rage, be on guard.

He did everything as she would have wanted. Then he went to a little shop and bought bread for her — the pale yeasty smell always made him feel a little nauseous — and some meat for himself, and, too, a tin of cat food. All this he did successfully, and let himself back in, and put on his clean clothes. It was mid-morning.

Mrs Biggs was sitting at the table, her hand at her side.

'Make me a cup of tea, Ben.'

He did so.

'And give the cat something.'

He opened the tin he had bought for the cat, and watched it crouch down to eat.

'You're a good boy, Ben,' she said, and tears came into his eyes and she heard him give a sort of bark, which meant he wanted to say thank you to her, expressing his love and gratitude for those words, but he had never heard them, except from her. She almost put out her hand to stroke him as if he were a dog, but he was not a dog, not of that tribe.

She drank her tea, asked for some toast, and lay down again. She slept, the cat by her. There was Ben, in his clean clothes, full of energy and something like happiness because of that loving 'You're a good boy.' He did not want to sleep, but lay on his futon and dozed, hoping she would wake, but she slept all night, and woke in the morning early. Again she asked for this and that, tea, an apple, food for the cat in its saucer. The neighbour came in, saw Ben there, carrying cups and plates into the kitchen, and was pleased for she had defended Ben to the other people on the landing, or who had seen him on the stairs. Now she could say that Ben was looking after Mrs Biggs.

There was a little conference by the bed. The old woman not wanting to get up was a new thing, which the neighbour understood very well, but who was going to look after her? Mrs Biggs asked her to get her pension, for she felt too poorly and — she was apologetic — empty the cat's dirt box. Both women understood that Ben could not do this: the mere idea of it — impossible. Even though the cat's fur was quiet, and she no longer sat with her eyes fixed on Ben. When the neighbour returned with Mrs Biggs' pension she laid the money on the table, and said, looking at Ben: 'That's not enough for more than her and the cat.'