Хелен Браун - Bono

Praise for Helen Brown’s beloved bestseller CLEO

“Possibly the next Marley & Me , Cleo by Helen Brown is an honest and unmawkish true story of ordinary people rebuilding their lives after a tragedy with the help of a kitten. Even non-cat-lovers will be moved.”

— Good Housekeeping

“This is an absolute must-gift for yourself or a cat-loving friend.”

— Cat World

“A buoyant tale, heartfelt and open.”

— Booklist

“Helen Brown’s remarkable memoir threatened to break my heart, but she didn’t break my heart at all—she opened it.”

—Beth Hoffman, New York Times bestselling author

“Lively and admirably unsentimental . . . a salutary reminder of the gratitude we humans owe to our companion animals.”

— Daily Mail

“Helen Brown’s Cleo is not just a tender story about a cat and a family facing the world again after a family bereavement. It’s also an epic—genuinely moving, funny, and ultimately uplifting. Don’t be surprised to find yourself smiling through tears after reading it.”

—Witi Ihimaera,author of The Whale Rider

ALSO BY HELEN BROWN

Cleo

Cats & Daughters

Tumbledown Manor

BONO

The Amazing Story of a Rescue Cat Who Inspired a Community

HELEN BROWN

CITADEL PRESS

Kensington Publishing Corp.

www.kensingtonbooks.com

All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

CITADEL PRESS BOOKS are published by

Kensington Publishing Corp.

119 West 40th Street

New York, NY 10018

Copyright © 2018 Helen Brown

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

CITADEL PRESS and the Citadel logo are Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

ISBN: 978-0-8065-3845-7

Library of Congress CIP data is available.

First electronic edition: June 2018

ISBN-13: 978-0-8065-3846-4

ISBN-10: 0-8065-3846-5

For Philip and my sister, Mary Dryden

Do not be afraid to love me.

If I break your heart, it will open again. And you will be

more alive.

Table of Contents

Praise for Helen Brown’s beloved bestseller CLEO

Also by

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Chapter One - PLAID PAJAMAS

Chapter Two - HEAVEN OR HELLHOLE

Chapter Three - FOSTERING A KITTEN—NOT

Chapter Four - LOVE IN THE GAPS

Chapter Five - AN INSPIRING GLIDE

Chapter Six - SEX, DRUGS, AND JUNK FOOD

Chapter Seven - A CITY WITH HEART

Chapter Eight - A ROCK STAR IN FUR

Chapter Nine - WITH OR WITHOUT YOU

Chapter Ten - HOLY SMOKE

Chapter Eleven - SHOPPING WITH MOTHER

Chapter Twelve - CAT BALLET

Chapter Thirteen - THE UNIVERSE IN AMBER

Chapter Fourteen - LOVE IN HIDING

Chapter Fifteen - IN PRAISE OF MELANCHOLY

Chapter Sixteen - BRINKMANSHIP AT BERGDORF’S

Chapter Seventeen - TEARING MY HAIR OUT

Chapter Eighteen - STARSTRUCK

Chapter Nineteen - FUR-FILLING A PROMISE

Chapter Twenty - BROKEN WINDOW, OPEN HEART

Chapter Twenty-one - ALONE, NOT LONELY

Chapter Twenty-two - TELLING TALES

Chapter Twenty-three - BECOMING LOCAL

Chapter Twenty-four - EMOTIONAL ACCOUNTANCY

Chapter Twenty-five - GOLDEN TOWERS

Chapter Twenty-six - THE FEAR MACHINE

Chapter Twenty-seven - HOLDING AND BREATHING

Chapter Twenty-eight - CALL OF THE WILD

Chapter Twenty-nine - LAST CHANCE

Chapter Thirty - FROM ANOTHER LIFETIME

Chapter Thirty-one - HEALERS IN FUR

Chapter Thirty-two - BRANDY AND BIG NOTING

Chapter Thirty-three - INVASION OF A DOOR SLAMMER

Chapter Thirty-four - BUILDING BRIDGES

Chapter Thirty-five - THE HAPPIEST GOOD-BYE

Chapter Thirty-six - CROSSROADS

Chapter Thirty-seven - MOVING TO THE GROOVE

Chapter Thirty-eight - FIVE GUARDIANS

Chapter Thirty-nine - WAITING FOR BONO

Chapter Forty - OLD HAUNTS

Chapter Forty-one - LIVING LIKE A CAT

Chapter Forty-two - I REMEMBER YOU WELL

Chapter Forty-three - ISLANDS APART

Acknowledgments

Chapter One

PLAID PAJAMAS

A cat must embrace every one of her nine lives.

There’s no law against flannelette pajamas as far as I know. This particular pair was dark green plaid, however, and identical to the ones Dad wore through his later years.

Not only that, they were out of season. We were sweltering through a particularly hot summer. Winter weight nightwear was the last thing he needed.

“What do you think?” Philip said, swaggering into the bedroom with the nonchalance of a seasoned fashion model.

I adjusted my head on the pillow so I could finish the crossword without the assistance of a neck brace.

How could I tell my beloved husband that, without realizing it, he was mutating into my father?

It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to work out what had happened. Philip had been wandering through a department store during one of his lunch breaks when some shop assistant sniffed him out as easy prey.

Blonde, 25, and with teeth that would have bankrupted her parents, she’d have beckoned him over to stroke the fabric. Helpless as a terrier in front of a plate of fillet steak, he would have trotted through the underwear displays to her counter. She would have beamed up at him and stroked last winter’s flannelette with her manicured talons. He would have been mesmerized as she pointed out the white piping edging on the collar and flattered him into believing it was retro. Honestly, straight men should be banned from shopping alone.

My husband of twenty-two years is an exceptionally kind and tactful man. He has never once grumbled about the oversized T-shirts I wear to bed (100 percent cotton, the only type that breathes properly) or the accompanying beige granny pants (giant knickers finishing at the waistline are the world’s best kept secret).

A sensible woman would have rolled onto her side and completed the crossword (“10 Down: Cooking fat (4)”). But common sense has never been my forte. I had to open my mouth and say the new pajamas weren’t very exciting. In no way was I making fun of him. I was just talking the way people do once we’ve nudged past 50. The instant the words rolled off my tongue I regretted them. He had every right to retaliate with observations about the extra twenty pounds I’d piled on while writing the last book, or point out that my idea of clothes storage is to toss them on the floor.