Рейчел Уэллс - A Friend Called Alfie

There was still no news of Harold when Polly had to go to pick up the children. She took Pickles, on his lead, but poor George still didn’t know what to do with himself. He was so distressed.

‘Do you want to go and see Hana?’ I suggested.

‘That’s a good idea. Hana might know something, or Sylvie might be there …’

‘And if I get any news I will come right round straight away, I absolutely promise,’ I said.

‘You’re right, Dad, at least it’ll be better than sitting here just worrying.’

‘And you know Hana might be worried too, I mean she’s almost related to Harold now as well,’ I pointed out.

‘Oh, poor Hana, I was too busy worrying about myself, but she might need me. Oh, how could I not have realised that.’ He sped off out of the house and yet again I was alone.

I paced up and down until Polly came home, the children all bounded in, and when she had settled them with snacks and drinks, she picked me up.

‘No news, sorry, mate,’ she said, stroking my fur. I didn’t know whether to go to George or wait with Polly, but in the end, I decided to wait. Because if George had any news he’d come and find me, and if I got news first I could go and find him, which meant we had all bases covered. All we could do was wait.

Polly had bathed and put the children in pyjamas, settling them on the sofa when Matt got home from work, and shortly after Claire arrived with Jonathan.

‘What a day,’ Claire said as she kissed the children.

‘How’s Harold?’ Matt asked.

‘He’s going to be alright, but he’s got a bit of recovery time ahead of him. It’s his heart, not a heart attack, thank goodness, but it’s got some blockage or something, so they’re keeping him in to do tests and take it from there. Marcus was really upset when he arrived, luckily Sylvie came straight afterwards, which reminds me I need to go to hers and wait for Connie to come home, she called her and she’s upset too. Jon, will you be OK putting the kids to bed?’

‘Of course, darling.’ He gave her a hug. ‘Don’t worry. See what Connie wants, she might want to stay at hers rather than come to us.’

‘Which makes sense, look, we’re all here to help out, let’s just keep in touch,’ Polly said.

Everyone scattered and I went with Claire to find George.

Claire let herself in with the spare key, and found Connie at the kitchen table, in tears. Hana was on her lap, George at her feet. I rushed to George and nuzzled him as we listened to Claire explain to Connie what she knew.

‘But can I see him?’ Connie asked. After all, Harold was like a surrogate granddad to her. He was a gruff old man but very loving to Sylvie and Connie.

‘Sorry, love,’ Claire said. ‘They’re doing tests right now, but your mum will be back soon, and I think even Marcus will be kicked out, so your mum said to tell you that you can visit him tomorrow.’

‘Meow?’ George asked hopefully, but I didn’t think he could. Cats didn’t go to hospitals, I was pretty sure.

‘I guess I’ll wait then. I’ve got homework to do, Claire, I better go and do it in my room.’

‘I’ll wait here, until your mum gets home then. Can I get you something to eat, love?’

‘No, thanks, I had a sandwich earlier, but really I don’t have an appetite.’

Hana followed Connie upstairs, George hot on her paws. I climbed into Claire’s lap.

‘He’ll be alright, Alfie,’ Claire said, as she stroked me, but her voice was not full of conviction. ‘I’m sure he’ll be back to his cantankerous ways before we know it.’ Harold could be quite grumpy, but George seemed to love that about him. And since we’d all become friends, we were used to him.

He had to get better. George couldn’t lose someone else he loved, not so close to losing Tiger. And for that matter, neither could I.

Chapter Eleven

It was a bad night for us all. George barely slept, he padded from Toby’s room to my bed and back again a number of times. Marcus phoned late last night when he got back from the hospital to say that Harold was comfortable and that the doctors didn’t feel that there was any immediate danger. It was more a case of keeping him calm, regulating his heart, while they got to the bottom of things. All we could do was stay calm and keep our paws crossed, although poor George kept worrying and as he kept waking me, I hoped they found out what was wrong with him sooner rather than later. Otherwise, none of us were going to get any sleep. I also tried to reassure him, but as George pointed out, I wasn’t a doctor, so my words didn’t soothe him.

All the adults discussed the situation at length and were all saying how the next few days would be chaotic, but of course, we were used to chaos. From what I could tell, until they had the test results, all my humans would be on edge, as well as us. Most importantly, they wanted to protect the children until they knew the situation, which I couldn’t do with George as he knew too much. The younger ones didn’t really understand, so my focus was to keep Pickles out of trouble and support George.

That morning, as Claire took the children off to school, Pickles was once again in our care. George wanted, and needed, to go to Hana’s so I was on puppy-sitting duty. Even though I didn’t exactly have the energy, I wondered if it would be safe to try to play hide and seek again. I just had to hope he didn’t get stuck in a cereal packet again. Thankfully George had shown him the best (safest) hiding places, under Summer’s bed was the best, which Pickles seemed to like, and there was no danger involved. For now, while everyone worried about Harold, I helped out by taking care of Pickles.

‘Alfie, can I have something to eat?’ Pickles asked. Now I was a cat who liked their food, pilchards especially, but this puppy wanted to eat all the time. His stomach was bottomless, and he did have a rather large bottom.

‘Pickles, you’ve had your breakfast so there’s nothing until lunchtime,’ I told him, sounding like a parent. ‘You need to do something other than eat.’ I tried to be stern, but when he looked at me with those big, hopeful eyes, it was difficult not to melt and give him all the food in the house. Until he licked my ear, which I really didn’t like.

‘Can I have some of your food?’ he asked, wiggling his bottom hopefully.

‘You don’t like it, and besides, George and I ate all our breakfast today,’ I said. Ever since Pickles entered our lives, we had quickly learnt not to leave food in our bowls.

‘Right, so are you saying that I can’t have anything to eat?’ This puppy really did labour the point.

‘Let’s go to the garden,’ I suggested thinking it might get rid of some of his energy. We headed out the cat flap. The wind whipped through our fur the moment we stepped outside.

‘It’s chilly,’ Pickles said, shivering.

‘Shall we play hide and seek?’ I suggested.

‘Oh yes please, yes please.’

‘Great, you hide, and I’ll count to twenty.’

‘No, Alfie, twenty isn’t enough time for me to hide, count to five.’

Bless, he still hadn’t got the hang of numbers. I did wonder if he’d get smarter as he got older, but George didn’t think he would. I was still optimistic, that was the kind of cat I was. I decided to just turn my back while he hid, after all in the garden there weren’t many places. Within a matter of seconds, I turned around and felt a quick flutter of panic when I couldn’t see him anywhere. I moved down the small lawn towards the shed, which looked as if it was shut so he couldn’t be in there. I saw a big pile of leaves, and a tail wagging from one edge. I actually felt quite proud, it was his best hiding place yet.

‘Pickles, I’ve found you,’ I shouted and then laughed as leaves scattered everywhere and he emerged.