Рейчел Уэллс: A Friend Called Alfie

‘We’re lucky that we get to spend time here, together,’ George said. ‘And I’m lucky to have such good families and friends. Not to mention how blessed I am to be such a handsome and charming cat who everyone loves.’ George winked with his right eye.

‘Chip off the old block that one,’ Gilbert said, with a grin.

I had no idea what he meant.

Packing up the cottage was always a bit of a frantic time. Not for George and me – we did very little but watch on as Jonathan moaned about how much stuff Claire had brought. He would grumble ‘how on earth am I supposed to fit it in the car’ although he always did. George and I would sit on the lawn and watch him huffing and puffing and saying words that no child or cat should hear, sweat rolling down his face in the sun as he tried to get all the suitcases into the boot of the car. While he was doing that, Claire would be tidying the place. Although there was a caretaker at Seabreeze who cleaned the place and fed Gilbert, Claire wouldn’t dream of her thinking she was above cleaning her own house. So she whipped through the house from top to bottom while the children got to play with their friends for the last time.

Gilbert had made himself scarce. We said goodbye to him that morning as we had a last walk before our long journey home. He didn’t actually like to see us go, he said it made him sad, so he would always disappear just before we were setting off. He was a softy at times, despite the fact that he was a survivor cat, who proved to be made of sterner stuff than many. I would miss him. But I knew we’d see him again soon. And as I felt sad I remembered how lucky I was to have so many friends and such good ones at that.

Once the house was emptied of our stuff, Claire, as usual, had to check the house again before she was satisfied we hadn’t left anything behind. Jonathan would surely moan about the traffic they were bound to hit if we didn’t get moving soon. They rounded up the children who were tearful at having to say goodbye to their summer holiday. Claire jollied them along by reminding them they were going to see their friends at home soon, and George and I were put into our car carrier, which I didn’t love to be honest. Although George and me were in it together, and there was a soft blanket for us to lie on, I wasn’t a fan of feeling caged. It made me a bit anxious, not that I’d let on to George. It was a shame, I thought, as I hid my feelings that Jonathan didn’t do the same.

‘Claire, if we don’t get going soon I’m going to be driving for hours and hours longer than necessary,’ he snapped.

‘OK, keep your hair on, we’re ready. Toby, strap yourself in,’ she commanded as she strapped Summer into her car seat. Toby was old enough to do it himself. Finally, after going back to check the house one last time, Claire got into the car.

‘Right, can I leave now?’ Jonathan asked, sounding tetchy.

‘Yes, is everyone alright?’

‘I’m hungry,’ Summer said, and the long journey home began.

It was nightfall by the time we reached Edgar Road. Jonathan was right, the traffic had been terrible, but Claire managed to entertain him by asking him crossword clues. I learnt that if Jonathan felt clever he was happy, so I think Claire only asked him clues she knew he’d know the answer to. She was quite intelligent, my Claire. The children were given snacks, and finally, they fell asleep, which meant the journey was long but peaceful. Even George slept gently beside me. I was desperate to stretch my legs and get some fresh air. As Claire got the children into the house and Jonathan took the luggage out, letting George and me out first, I breathed the London air, so different from Devon but so familiar.

‘Welcome home, son,’ I said as George and I stretched. Before we went into the house, I allowed myself a quick glance towards where Tiger used to live. No, it wasn’t easier yet, but I hoped that it would before too long as I swallowed back a yowl.

When Tiger was alive the first thing I would have done after a holiday was to have gone to see her, and tell her how glad I was to be home. But I couldn’t do that now, I couldn’t tell her how much I’d missed her, and it pained me to have to turn away from her house, knowing she was no longer there.

I blinked away a tear, ushered my son inside the house and stepped into the warmth of home. Once in the kitchen, I prepared to settle him down for the night, it had been a long and tiring journey. Frankly I just wanted to forget everything and sleep, hoping tomorrow I would wake up feeling better, or at least ready for a new day.

Chapter Three

The week after getting back from Devon, I developed post-holiday blues. Jonathan had to go straight back to work to start his new job. Overnight the relaxed – well for Jonathan anyway – holiday Jonathan was replaced by an even more stressed out one than usual. Claire had to get the children ready to start school again – buying uniforms, shoes and bags and organising clubs; it was a flurry of activity for everyone. But I felt flat, and although I got to see my other humans and cat friends, I still couldn’t quite shake the gloom.

It didn’t help that London was greyer than Devon and I was feeling more than a little bit down in the dumps. I kept telling George that our grief over Tiger would get easier, but it wasn’t feeling that way at the moment. Seeing our cat friends on Edgar Road – Rocky, Elvis, Nellie, and even the sour-faced Salmon – couldn’t cheer me up. My paws felt heavy as I walked, although I knew I needed to snap out of it, I had no idea how. Being a cat wasn’t always as easy as people thought.

I did, thankfully, have a bit of time to myself to try to let out my sadness, which I could only do alone. George was next door with his best friend Hana, a lovely cat who moved here from Japan last year. Hana was about the same age as George, and she was ‘Mikeneko’ which means she had a coat of three colours, in English, we would say Tortoiseshell. She was beautiful and sweet, one of the calmest cats I’d ever met – quite the opposite to my boy. I did wonder if George and Hana were more than friends, after all the boy was growing up. George could act a bit like a teenager when I asked him about Hana – he would shut me down pretty quickly, and say they were just good friends. His reluctance just made me want to know more …

However, they did adore each other regardless of their relationship status, and they saw one another most days. Hana had been a house cat in Japan and didn’t go out, something that both horrified and fascinated me. Since being in London, we had managed to get her out a bit, but she preferred being indoors. It was her choice, and I understood that it took all sorts of cats to make the world go round.

Hana lived next door to us with Sylvie and her teenage daughter Connie. Connie was the girlfriend of my first human child friend, Aleksy, who I had known almost from the first day I arrived at Edgar Road. I couldn’t believe he was a teenager now, my child friends were growing up fast. Aleksy and Connie had a sweet relationship, a lot of hand-holding and blushes. However, they were both clever children, and so I personally thought they were a good match.

Also, Sylvie was now seeing one of our other friends, Marcus, which made her happy. I had to admit she was a bit unstable when she first moved here, and she had me a little worried. She’d been through a horrible divorce, so it was understandable. She was lonely and missing her home in Japan. I knew how hard starting over could be, after all, I had done it. But lately, she smiled a lot. Also, she always gave us fresh fish when we visited which obviously helped. We all met Marcus through his father, Harold, who happens to be one of George’s best human friends. George and I saved his life last year when he was ill, and since then he’s become part of our family.