Кейт Мур - Felix The Railway Cat

But Angie wasn’t the only one with influence. Huddersfield had six team leaders, who each worked in shifts, taking full responsibility for the station and team when on duty. And another of these was a chap called Billy, who’d worked alongside Angie for decades. He’d worked his whole life on the railway, first as a conductor and latterly as a team leader. In his late fifties, he was the elder statesman of the station – and known for being grumpy in a granddad kind of way. Angie had known him so long, and got on with him so well, that she had teasingly nicknamed him ‘Mr Grumpy’. He was short and balding, and his years of professed misery had etched that expression into his lined face.

Billy was known for telling things straight. If he didn’t agree with you, he would come right out and say you were talking a lot of rubbish. If he thought you were being a fool, he told you as much, and he wouldn’t do it in a nice PC way.

When Billy first heard about the campaign to get a station cat, he thought it was silly. He was dismissive; and it seems the manager, Paul, still felt the same way. Despite Angie’s enthusiasm and Gareth’s creative poster campaign, the manager remained unmoved.

Undaunted, as the months passed and the idea took even deeper hold, Gareth tried to appeal directly to Paul’s business brain. Knowing his manager was a man for facts, figures and charts, Gareth took the time to produce a summary of the pros and cons of getting a station cat:

Pros

Cons

Happy customers

Happy team

Historic tradition

Pest control

Our NPS (national passenger survey) scores will undoubtedly go through the roof …

Good PR

Obviously, there were no cons …

But the chart went the way of all the posters before it. As 2009 turned into 2010, and then into 2011, Gareth was still no closer to realising his dream – nor to moving on from the station, as he’d said he would do … one day.

It was in the spring of 2011 that some intriguing news reached him on the office grapevine, borne to him via the passing footsteps of his colleagues journeying through the announcer’s office. Paul, so rumour had it, was being seconded to a job elsewhere in the business. So someone else would be taking charge of the station in his absence – and that someone else would have the power to veto or green-light the idea of the station cat.

When he heard who’d got the job, Gareth couldn’t repress the grin that stretched across his face. He ran to meet Andy, his long-time partner in crime – and the man who had just been appointed acting station manager. Andy’s wide smile matched Gareth’s own.

‘This is it!’ the announcer cried in excitement, his eyes shining with glee. ‘This is our opportunity. Let’s get the cat! ’

2. A ‘Mouse’ in the House

Angie Hunte adjusted her yellow hi-vis jacket and cast her eyes along the commuters bustling through the gateline, stifling a yawn. It was now April, which meant that at last the mornings were lighter and brighter, but getting up at a quarter to five for an early shift was still a struggle, even after all these years. Much as she liked working at the station, some shifts you felt you just plodded your way through.

That morning, though, she felt an unfamiliar fizz of excited anticipation in her stomach as she scanned the faces of the customers coming through the station. She was looking for one face in particular: that of Belinda Graham.

Belinda was a TPE manager who worked at the company headquarters in Manchester, but commuted through Huddersfield every day. It was fortunate she did, for Angie had a very important question to ask her – about a certain station cat. With Andy Croughan, the acting station manager, having at last given the nod to the idea, all the Huddersfield team needed now was for HQ to say yes. But, Angie knew, getting that yes might be easier said than done.

There was no question of skipping this step, though, or of welcoming a cat through the back door. They all wanted it to be above board and proper. Although it had started out as a joke, the Huddersfield team were cat lovers, many of them cat owners themselves, and they took the responsibility of owning a pet seriously. Angie, Gareth, Andy and the others had already decided that, if they got the approval they were hoping for, the cat would be cared for equally by the team. Even Billy had given an – admittedly typically taciturn – acquiescence that he, too, would chip in and help out.

As the cat campaign had gone on, Billy – perhaps worn down by his friend Gareth’s unfailingly upbeat enthusiasm – had come around to the idea. Over time, he’d become quite keen on the concept and would even break into a smile every now and then when Gareth raised the fantasy cat in conversation, and a smile was a rarity with Billy.

‘All right, lad, all right,’ he’d concede, his lips curving unnaturally upwards, as he headed outside for a smoking break, clutching his favourite cigarillos. ‘I agree: a station cat would be grand.’

Billy had cats of his own, including a ginger queen called Jaffa. A railway man to his very bones, he and his wife lived in some old station buildings, and his cats would often hold up the trains as they weaved their way across the rails. Their shared love of cats was another thing that he and Gareth had bonded over, for Gareth was the proud owner of Cosmo, a fluffy black-and-white moggy with a massive tail. But one cat was not enough for Gareth – and, at last, the station cat seemed within his reach.

But first Angie had to work her magic. Angie was a brilliant people person – part of her expertise as a team leader was in managing others, and she always seemed to know exactly who to speak to and more importantly how to speak to them to resolve any issues or to get things done. It was Angie who’d suggested they approach Belinda for permission. Angie knew her of old, and she knew Belinda was a doer: someone who meant business and was willing to roll her sleeves up and make things happen. Nothing was ever too much trouble for Belinda. Angie gave another glance at the commuters, but it was still a little early, and there was no sign of Belinda’s distinctive short blonde hair amidst the trickle of customers coming through the gates.

Angie rehearsed in her head what she was going to say, and couldn’t help the almost guilty smile that twitched at her lips as she did so. For the team had decided they couldn’t leave things to chance, but instead were going to pull out all the stops to bring this cat home. And so the conversation Angie was about to have was in some ways just as creative as the hand-drawn posters that Gareth had been mocking up for the past three years.

Another surge of customers swelled through the concourse, and Angie suddenly recognised the tiny figure of Belinda weaving among them.

‘Belinda!’ she called out urgently, bustling over to her with a practised air, neatly avoiding the steady stream of commuters.

‘All right, Angie?’ The manager greeted her warmly.

‘Have you heard what’s happened here?’ Angie began, lowering her voice discreetly, as though she didn’t want the customers passing by to overhear.

Belinda’s brow creased in concern. ‘No, what?’ she asked, expecting any manner of emergency. Angie was a very experienced team leader – if she needed to call on head office for support, it must be serious.

‘Do you know, we’ve got a mouse in the mess room?’ Angie whispered theatrically, as though aghast, acting her shock and horror at this supposed ‘pest invasion’ perfectly. ‘Sharon, one of the girls in the office, she says she’s seen a mouse.’

Belinda shook her head in sympathy, completely understanding Angie’s worry.