Рейчел Уэллс - A Friend Called Alfie

‘And you will figure it out. Now Matt and I are both working we have to make time for us, so that’s the first thing. You two need time as a couple, and you are always looking after my children, so perhaps we can reciprocate? You just need to be organised and, Claire, that is your strong point after all.’ Polly leant over and grabbed Claire’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

‘You know you’re right. I think instead of worrying I should see what we can do. If Jonathan and I have a night out that would be a start.’

I felt my heart sink a little, I thought everything was alright in our world, and to be honest, Claire was handling it well, but it did set off a little warning bell in my mind. I would have to keep an eye on this.

‘Right, well Matt and I can have the kids, perhaps they can have a sleepover, so you guys can have the night to yourself.’

‘Now you’re talking.’ Claire smiled as did I. With friends like ours, nothing seemed to be insurmountable. ‘Right, I’m going to see Harold, fancy a walk down with me?’

‘Sure, but I won’t stop after saying hello, as I have to walk Pickles.’

They set off with Pickles on the lead and George decided that he wanted to go after them.

‘That’s fine, are you worried about Pickles?’ I asked.

‘Someone needs to keep an eye on him, and Harold prefers cats to dogs so I should be there to make it easier for him,’ he said, sounding very responsible.

‘Good thinking.’ I could tell that George was still a little jealous of Pickles and Harold was his friend, he didn’t want to risk losing him to Pickles. I knew that wouldn’t happen, Harold doted on George, but I didn’t say anything. George had to figure that one out for himself.

I was left alone in the house, and again, that was a nice moment for me. I thought that I’d go and hang out with neighbourhood cats later, but for now, I could take some time for myself. As I went to find Jonathan’s cashmere blanket, I was pretty pleased with myself.

It was a little chilly as I made my way to the recreation ground later, to see if any of the cats were around. Rocky was there, sitting in his usual spot, along with Nellie. There was no sign of Elvis.

‘Hey guys,’ I said as I joined them.

‘Alfie, lovely to see you,’ Rocky said.

‘And you too. So what’s new?’ I asked, but before they could reply, I spotted Salmon looming towards us. Salmon lived opposite us with the Goodwins, leaders of the Edgar Road neighbourhood watch. They were busybodies, as was their cat. We’ll never be best friends but we’re civil.

‘Hi, Salmon,’ I said. Salmon liked to lord it over us when there was news or gossip on the street.

‘Hello. What’s going on?’ he asked.

‘Nothing much,’ I replied. ‘Is there anything you know that we don’t?’ I preempted him.

‘No, it’s been really quiet at the moment. Which is good because I can report there are no criminals on the street.’

‘That is good,’ Nellie said, she sounded a little sarcastic.

‘But don’t worry, we are keeping our eyes open just in case,’ Salmon said, self-importantly. I didn’t want to upset him, although he was a little silly.

‘We’re lucky to have you, Salmon,’ I said, kindly, as Nellie and Rocky shot me a look. Before we could continue, George ran up to us with Elvis at his heels.

‘Goodness me you can run,’ Elvis said, he sounded a little out of breath.

‘What’s the emergency?’ Nellie asked. George ground to a halt but couldn’t speak. I looked upon him with concern while he calmed down.

‘It’s bad, Dad,’ he said, his eyes full of concern, when he recovered.

‘Oh no, what’s happened?’ I felt panic in my fur.

‘Harold. When we got there, he said he wasn’t feeling too good. So Claire phoned the doctors, but he started breathing funny, and they said he might need an ambulance, so Polly called for one. When it came, they examined him and said they thought it might be his heart, so they took him to hospital. Claire went in the ambulance with him, as they wouldn’t let me go with them, but Polly was still there.’ He lay down, exhausted. I nuzzled him.

‘Oh George, I’m so sorry, but Harold is going to the best place. Remember before when he went to the hospital, he came back right as rain,’ I pointed out, going to comfort George.

‘But he looked so scared, and I wanted to go with him because I know that would make him feel better, but they wouldn’t let me. They said cats weren’t allowed to go in ambulances,’ he huffed.

My poor boy was so distressed. ‘But I know he wanted me with him, Dad, because he told me how I was his best friend in the world,’ George cried.

‘Right, George, let’s find Polly and stick with her, because it’s the best way for us to hear any news as soon as she gets it.’

‘I think she’s at her house, she said she’d go there to make phone calls,’ George said, still clearly in a state.

‘Come on, son, we’ll go there. Guys, we’ll come back and let you know as soon as there’s any news,’ I offered.

‘Let us know if we can do anything,’ Rocky shouted after us as we left them to go to Polly’s.

Inside the house, Polly was on the phone. She hung up and saw us.

‘Ah, boys, are you alright?’ she said.

‘Yowl,’ George cried, no he wasn’t.

‘I know it was frightening. Claire is at the hospital with Harold now, and there’s no news yet, but she’ll let us know. I phoned Marcus, who is going straight there, and I’ve also let Matt know. Unfortunately, all we can do now is wait.’ I loved how Polly also spoke to us as if we were humans, it meant we always knew what was going on. Pickles was asleep in his bed, snoring gently, which was probably for the best for now, because I wasn’t sure how patient George would be with him.

George placed himself at Polly’s feet, there was no way he was going to leave her side for now. I gave him a little space. I knew George. If I fussed too much, it would annoy him. I said a prayer in my head that Harold would be alright. George had suffered enough loss in his short life so far, and I didn’t want this for him. If I could have done anything to protect him, I would have done so, but for now, I was utterly helpless.

It was a very long, difficult afternoon. Every time the phone rang, George jumped up, and when there was no news, he put his head in his paws and fretted.

‘What is an ambulance?’ Pickles asked me when he woke up, and I herded him away from George.

‘When you were little, you went to the vet to have injections,’ I started to explain. ‘And the hospital is where humans go for things like that.’ I knew it was better to keep it simple.

‘So, the old man …’

‘Harold is his name, Pickles. He’s George’s best friend, and he isn’t well, so it’s best to give George some space.’

‘I can try,’ Pickles said. ‘But I don’t really understand.’

‘Of course not, it’s a lot for a puppy like you to take in, don’t worry.’ I didn’t know if I had the energy to reassure everyone right now, but clearly I would have to because there was no one else to do so.

‘OK, Alfie, if you say don’t worry then I won’t worry. Can I go and play with my ball now?’

‘Good idea.’

Thankfully the children had been teaching Pickles the joy of playing with a tennis ball, which is something that cats see as being beneath them. Pickles would wait for them to throw it and chase it, bringing it back to them over and over again. Which kind of highlighted the difference between dogs and cats, but if it made him happy … I went with him, in order to give George the space he needed, and I batted the ball with my paw, so he could chase it. It was a little tiresome but I was trying hard not to complain as I batted it yet again.