"Uh, I.  Did super really actually die but I'm back now.  Also I have stuff to sell so I don't need a job or anything for a bit."  She hoists the bag of plausible heirlooms.

"Right . . ."

"Don't you dare give me like, 'Oh, you know you can tell me anything, I'll never make anything worse if you do', I'm so serious right now.  For real."

"I wouldn't have!  Because you do know that.  But it doesn't have to be right now; let's go home, have some tea - will your friend be joining us - "

"I can if that's desirable for more - explanation or anything?"

"I mean if nothing else we can go dig up my corpse, right; that's probably convincing.  If you wanna go do whatever."

"I am accumulating a to-do list. I'm sorry I mishandled things, I will try to learn from the experience, please contact me if you need anything."

"'Kay.  Good luck I guess."

"Thank you. Please keep me posted on your recovery."

And then Cam can drop the Chelford gang a note and go looking for the Railway Cat.

There is not any railway immediately in evidence; it's a decent-sized city.  However there are a sprinkling of people wearing the same long coats with . . . sculpted metallic ab-shaped armor under them?  Every couple of blocks.  Some of them have kind of Darth Vadery helmets with mesh visors.  In general the fashion trends slightly more punk here than was implied by what Cam saw in Chelford or the existence of Roman Eagle.

. . . This abs armor person appears to be engaged in conversation with a calico.

Gosh, interesting. Cam will go within eavesdropping distance of the weird dystopian movie costumery and the cat.

The human, once close enough to be overheard, does not really seem to expect himself to be intelligible; it's a lot of 'Oh really's and 'You don't say!'s.  The cat likewise is not earnestly trying to communicate: "Yep, yes, gotcha, for sure - nnnnooooo keep looking this way, over here - yes right good."

"Good morning," Cam meows, "I actually speak cat, what are you playing at here?"

The cat double-takes.  " - What."

"I said I actually speak cat, what are you playing at."

"I don't know what you mean!  I'm just here having a friendly chat."

(In the distance behind the police officer, a nearly identical cat trots slinkily into an alleyway with a comparatively enormous fish.)

"I mean, if you're just meowing at him because it's amusing, far be it from me to stop you, but it did seem weird. - is that other cat also a talking cat, the one with the fish?"

"I don't know her."

"I see." How is the person in the weirdass uniform reacting to another party joining the meowing conversation.

Pretending he was never part of it in the first place!  He's flipped his visor down and is standing up quite straight with his back to the nearest wall.

"Do you and this fellow know each other?" Cam asks the cat.

"Not intimately."

"Huh. Anyway, I suppose I've confirmed that there are talking cats in London."

"Where?"  The cat rubs a bit against Cam's legs.