Рейчел Уэллс - A Friend Called Alfie

‘It wasn’t my fault,’ George said, eyes wide.

‘I’m sure it wasn’t. But what wasn’t?’

‘Pickles ate some chocolate coins that he found in the living room, where the kids had them, and apparently dogs are allergic to chocolate so now he has to go to the vet, but he just said how much he liked them, even the foil they were wrapped in.’

‘He ate the foil?’

‘Some of it. Dad, I told him not to eat them but he didn’t listen.’

‘Did you tell him that cats never eat chocolate?’

‘No, I didn’t think of that. I’ll tell him that later, if he’s alright. Do you think he’ll be alright? Oh, Dad, he has to be alright.’

‘He’s going to the vet, he’ll be in good hands, like Harold was at the hospital. I’m sure he’ll be fine.’ I wasn’t sure at all, I thought, as I watched Polly lift him gently into the car carrier.

‘I realised that I love him, Dad,’ George said, his eyes sad.

‘We all do, son, we all do.’

I put all thoughts of my plan aside as I tried to console George. He wasn’t going anywhere until he knew that Pickles was alright, he was more fond of the puppy than he let on. He also felt guilty and no matter how many times I told him it wasn’t his fault, he didn’t believe me.

‘And Hana had only just left, you see I was saying goodbye to her at the back door and I came back in and he was already eating them. I only turned my back for a minute.’

‘George, Pickles eats anything and everything, there is just no stopping him.’ It was true, even I wouldn’t want to come between that dog and his food. Or anyone else’s food for that matter.

While we waited for news, Claire was beside herself, as were we all. It was as if we all blamed ourselves, although I wasn’t there I still felt as if I was responsible in some way. We fretted and paced around, restless, hoping that the poor pup would be alright. George lay down eventually, but I knew he wasn’t able to sleep, so I lay next to him nuzzling him, trying to offer some comfort.

Finally, Polly rang with the news that Pickles was going to be alright, although he was still a bit sick. Pickles was going to stay with the vet for a while, for something called observation, and then he’d be home before we knew it. Claire was relieved, although no one blamed her for it, she blamed herself, a bit like George. Claire cried while I comforted her, it hadn’t been fun that was for sure.

But when we knew that Pickles was going to be alright, I persuaded George to go and visit Harold and Snowball.

‘Are you going to come with me?’

‘No, son, I’m exhausted and need to rest,’ I said. I had a plan in place that Dustbin had come up with about the notebook, but for now I had another plan, one of my own. I was hoping the more George and Snowball bonded, the easier it would be when I told him how I felt about her. That was my biggest wish right now. Of course I had to tell Snowball too but I thought that it was almost understood between us already, without us having to say anything. But George was the one whose feelings I had to consider most at the moment, I was a parent after all and his feelings were more important than my own.

When George came home that evening, I had slept, and thought, slept and thought some more. Because of everything going around my brain, I was still tired though.

‘How were Harold and Snowball?’ I asked.

‘I forgot that Harold was at his senior centre this afternoon so I only just saw him when he came home. He was talking about his lonely club again. He’s got ten people so far on his list who don’t really have family around, and he’s very sad about it. As am I. But I told Snowball that you had a plan coming soon.’

‘I do, George, I do.’

‘And on the way home I stopped at Polly’s and Pickles is back, he said they made him be sick, but that he’s fine now although quite hungry.’

‘Ah, that puppy is always hungry.’

‘I know but he wasn’t bothered by it. He said it was another adventure. But I did tell him that cats would never eat chocolate or foil, and he said he had taken that onboard now. But he also said there was a lot of information in being a cat, so he wasn’t sure how much he could retain.’

‘That sounds like Pickles.’

‘I love him, Dad, but at the end of the day he’s only a dog after all.’

I went into the living room where Summer was crying. Jonathan had just got home from work and was scratching his head as if he was confused. I wished he’d scratch my head as much as he did his own, I love a good head scratch.

‘Summer, what’s wrong?’ Claire asked.

‘Henry and Martha said we had nearly killed Pickles and they’re really mad at us,’ Toby explained.

‘They were our chocolate coins,’ Summer said hiccuping the words out.

‘I know, and now we know about Pickles and the fact he can’t eat chocolate maybe we can be more careful about leaving it lying around. It shouldn’t really have been in the living room anyway,’ Claire said gently, hugging Summer. ‘But it was a mistake that’s all and Pickles is fine. Let’s go to Polly and Matt’s now and sort it out.’

‘But what if they shout at us?’ Toby asked.

‘They must have been very worried but, Toby, Summer, this could have happened to anyone, so let’s go and I’m sure it’ll be fine.’

‘We’ll all go,’ Jonathan said. ‘As a family.’ And off they went.

‘It seems everyone feels guilty about Pickles,’ George said when we were alone.

‘That’s what we do when we love someone, we blame ourselves if anything happens.’

‘I know, you always do with me don’t you?’

‘Yes, George, I do.’

‘But I’m perfect so you really don’t need to,’ he finished.

Chapter Thirty

It was time to put everything aside and get yet another plan put into action, before Christmas was upon us. After Pickles’ scare, friendships between the children had been fixed and were as strong as ever, and their excitement levels had been turned up several notches. Apart from Tommy. I could tell Tommy was feeling a bit like the odd one out. Too old for the younger ones, and excluded from the exclusive Aleksy and Connie club. Franceska told Claire that she was worried he was a bit lonely. He had loads of friends but when he was with us, he wasn’t really there. Claire suggested that Tommy should be allowed to invite a friend to our next family day which was coming up and that turned out to be a brilliant idea as Tommy leapt at it. Franceska said she hadn’t before thought of it, as the family day was just that but our family expanded all the time. We’d added Sylvie, Connie, Hana, Marcus and Harold after all. So, this seemed like the opportune time to try to get Harold’s idea to Claire.

In fact the next family day was a mini Christmas Day because Connie was spending actual Christmas in Japan. I thought that although she would be missed, it would be nice for Tommy to have his brother back for Christmas. And although Sylvie had been panicking a bit, having never spent Christmas without Connie, she had Marcus and all of us to get her through it.

I discussed the plan at length with George, and to a lesser extent with Snowball and we decided that the next time Claire went to Harold’s we would follow her there. That would be the time to get her to see the notebook. We had come up with a rough idea of how we would do it, but we also recognised the need for us to play it by ear a bit. As with most plans, they should never be too rigid. Luckily we didn’t have too long to wait, Claire went to Harold’s most days, so today we went with her. Claire was taking him his lunch. She was also taking Pickles who seemed to come everywhere, no one wanted to let him out of their sight since the chocolate incident. Harold always had somewhere to eat, Sylvie’s, ours or Matt and Polly’s, but since having Snowball he preferred to eat at home. She really had done a great job keeping him company, but I could see where Harold was coming from with his lunch club because he always had somewhere to go, or people going to see him. He was one of the lucky ones.