Кейт Мур - Full Steam Ahead, Felix

‘Oh!’ her friend said mock-innocently, as though only just remembering. ‘You’ve got Felix this Christmas, haven’t you?’

‘I have,’ said Jean with wry amusement. She was under no illusion that they had come to see her – the station cat was clearly the main attraction. ‘Would you like to meet her?’

‘Oh yes please!’ both women chorused happily, clapping their hands together with joy. So Jean introduced them. They had their cuddle and then – after only another five minutes of chatting – they swiftly took their leave.

Not half an hour after their departure, the doorbell rang again. Once more, Jean heaved herself off the sofa and went to answer the door.

‘Happy Christmas!’ cried a young man on the doorstep. ‘I haven’t seen you for ages, Jean!’ There was a beat. The railway worker waited patiently, knowing all too well what was coming. ‘Am I right in remembering that you have Felix this year …?’

‘I do,’ said Jean, opening the door wide and shaking her head with resigned acceptance of her lowly position in her own household. ‘Come on in, you.’

So he too entered and had a Christmas selfie with the station cat before making his way off for lunch with his family.

Not half an hour later, the doorbell rang once more.

‘Surprise!’ chorused some old family friends. ‘We were just driving past and we thought we’d dash in to see you …’

Jean replied drily, ‘She’s in the living room.’

Nor was that the last of them. All morning, Jean was up and down like a yo-yo. She’d never had so many guests on Christmas Day. So much for her quiet Christmas! She took to calling out, ‘Felix, come here! Somebody has come to see you,’ as each visitor arrived. Though the guests were genuine friends, very often they’d be followed by someone that Jean had never met before. ‘I’ve brought so-and-so with me,’ her friend would say, rather breezily. ‘She’s such a huge Felix fan. I hope you don’t mind …?’

And Jean didn’t – for she knew first-hand what a very special cat Felix was.

Felix seemed to relish the attention. It was helpful that the guests had unknowingly staggered their arrival, for Felix sometimes struggled to meet big groups all at once, but, as first one friend and then another stopped by, Felix was quite happy to meet these individuals one-on-one. In fact, she had a whale of a time. She looked much more like a star at a red-carpet film premiere than a cat at Christmastime, as the cameras snapped and her fans fawned dreamily over her.

Sometimes, however, Felix looked at her visitors lazily, choosing not to comprehend their requests for a more dynamic shot. In such instances, Jean would intervene.

‘Let me try this,’ she’d say brightly. She picked up one of the toys from Felix’s Christmas gifts – a long wooden stick with a hot-pink feather on the end – and energetically waved it in front of Felix’s black-velvet nose.

Well, that always got the railway cat moving, like a train pulling swiftly out of the station.

Swipe! Felix’s paw stretched out and reached for it.

Pounce! She was up on her feet and dancing like a boxer in the ring.

Grab! It will be mine!

Jean could entertain her for hours with it, as her friends (and their friends) snapped away with their smartphones, taking lots of shots of the station cat in action.

By lunchtime, there was a lull in visitors – enough for Felix finally to be formally given her gift bag of presents. Jean knew what a clever cat Felix was, and that she didn’t need any help opening them. Felix was five – she’d been given plenty of gifts over the years, so she knew all about how to unwrap them. Jean fetched the gift bag from the dining-room table and placed it on the floor for Felix.

Wiggle wiggle wiggle went the cat’s whiskers, as she investigated the gift bag thoroughly. Sniff sniff sniff went her nose. She could smell that there were Christmas treats in there … And, with a cat like Felix, once she had identified that a treat was in the vicinity, there was literally no stopping her. Not thirty seconds after Jean had put the bag on the floor, Felix had dived upon it to make it tumble to its side; and not thirty seconds after that , she was head-first inside Santa’s big belly. She was in her element then, pulling out package after package, tearing off the wrapping paper with her sharp white teeth and revealing just what a good kitty cat she’d been all year. As well as the treats, there were catnip pillows and mechanical mice, and yet more sticks with feathers on the end. Though the treats, understandably, garnered most of her attention at the beginning, later on she singled out a yellow felt mouse that she happily played with all afternoon.

Eventually, darkness fell beyond the French windows. ‘We can chill out now, Felix,’ Jean announced. ‘Surely nobody else is going to come round now!’

In fact, they did have one more visitor after sunset, the final fan in a very busy day, but after they had left Jean felt it was safe to batten down the hatches and truly relax in her favourite pink dressing gown. Wanting to wash away the day first, she went upstairs to have a quick shower before changing. She went on to autopilot as she climbed the stairs, her brain already turning back to Llewellyn’s classic book and the convoluted lives of its characters. What is going to happen next? she wondered. Who will live and who will die? What secrets might be revealed next?

Not until she started to descend the stairs, wrapped up in her cosy pink dressing gown and with herself rather pink from the hot shower too, did Jean suddenly remember that she hadn’t closed the door. Oh no , she thought, her heart beginning to pound. Just what mischief will that cat have got up to now …?

First one step, then the next; slowly, she walked down her stairs. She imagined all manner of chaos – the glass vase knocked over, stolen food … Or might Felix have even hidden herself away upstairs somewhere, so that Jean would have to spend the rest of the night hunting for her? Felix was known to be a fan of hide-and-seek at the station and was really rather good at it. Oh dear God , Jean thought with increasing panic, what if I can’t find her …?

But as Jean rounded the corner of the stairs she saw there was no need to worry at all. Though the glass-paned door was wide open – just as she had left it – Felix sat in the exact same spot she would have done if it had been closed. It was as if there was an invisible line marked on the threshold of the living room and Felix had not crossed it. Knowing the rules – knowing that Jean had said she could not come upstairs – Felix had listened and obeyed.

Well, that was a turn-up for the books! Jean felt her heart melt to see her sitting there so obedient and mature. The rampaging kitten she had once nurtured – and chastised – at the station was long gone. It was almost as if Felix had sat and passed a test; in her knowledge of the rules and decision to abide by them, it really showed that she was out of her kitten phase and undeniably an adult.

There was something a little sad in that moment for Jean, to know that Felix’s childhood – even her adolescence – was now well and truly over. But mostly she just felt proud. ‘You clever cat, Felix,’ she told her warmly. ‘What a very good girl you are.’

There was a final twist in the tale. After an evening spent reading on the sofa, Jean gave a yawn and decided to retire to bed. She went round turning off the lights and locking up the house, ready to head upstairs and slip beneath her snow-white duvet.

She was very nearly done in her preparations; all she had left to do was to shut Felix in. At the living-room door, she paused for a second, looking down at the lovely little black-and-white cat. Felix had been following her around like a shadow, but as they’d reached the threshold she’d stopped patiently in the doorway, knowing that she could not pass.