Кейт Мур - Felix The Railway Cat

Felix clambered all over him while he did so. She sat on his shoulder for a while, sticking her nose into the news, as though she was a curious fellow commuter straining to see the article in his paper. Then she seemed to think, I wonder … Hesitantly, she made the final ascent onto Adam’s head. This time, she managed to get her balance just right and became terribly comfy up there, perched on Adam’s hair like a live version of a Russian shapka hat. She was too big to get her tail up there too, so this hung rather obviously all the way down the side of Adam’s face. It would occasionally tickle his nose as Felix wagged it in pleasure at having successfully returned to one of her all-time favourite perches. At four and a half years old, she was very heavy, but it was a pleasant weight and Adam didn’t mind it; he thought it was quite funny.

The cat and the customer-service assistant were discovered sitting like that in the ghost-town lobby when some customers came onto the concourse.

‘Morning!’ Adam said to them cheerily, speaking from a face full of cat tail.

The customers looked over at them. There was a bit of a pause, and then they seemed to think, Forget it … ‘Morning,’ they merely said gruffly in response. Another eight customers came through the gates, and not one of them blinked an eye.

After all, it was only the station cat – and everyone knew Huddersfield had one of those.

To Queen Felix’s dismay, though her fame had grown, people were perhaps becoming a little bit used to her. In December 2015, Felix was not the star of the TPE Christmas card from headquarters. They chose a child’s drawing instead; can you imagine?

Angie was spitting feathers, and if Felix had ever managed to catch any of those pesky pigeons she would have been too. When Angie opened the envelope that held the Christmas card and pulled it out, Felix was sitting alongside her at her desk. As they saw what was on it – and that it wasn’t Felix – the two girls looked at each other levelly in mutual disapprobation.

‘Yeah, I understand, Felix,’ Angie said in agreement, easily reading the disapproval in the cat’s haughty emerald eyes. ‘It should be you , Felix. Don’t worry – I’ll have words.’

Angie talked to everybody about the shocking fact that Felix wasn’t on the card – she even complained to one of the managers. ‘Where’s our Felix? We can’t have a Christmas card without our Felix!’ she cried passionately.

But, of course, nothing was done. The railway cat was old hat. Just as Billy had once warned Gareth, she’d been in the same job too long. ‘You’ve got to move on,’ Billy had told the young announcer in his gruff old voice. ‘If you don’t move every three or four years, people will think you’ve given up, and they’ll never think of offering you another job.’

The pest controller had been at Huddersfield for nearly five years now. Was it too late for Felix to land a promotion? Maybe the station cat wasn’t destined for greatness after all …

30. One Night in January

Andrew McClements tore at the Amazon packaging surrounding his parcel, and sniggered a little bit when he saw what was inside. But, when he heard the door open behind him, he quickly shoved the package into his desk drawer: nothing to see here.

It was one of the other team leaders, Geoff.

‘I’m heading off now,’ he said. ‘You’ll be all right?’

‘I’ll be fine,’ replied Andrew confidently. It was 29 January 2016 and by now he was an old hand at running the night shift on his own – if not quite an old-timer. ‘Have you seen Felix, by the way?’ he asked, keeping his voice light, as though he wasn’t all that interested.

‘Not since I sent her packing earlier,’ Geoff replied curtly. ‘But you know what that cat is like: she’ll be back.’ He looked rather gloomy at the idea. ‘Night, then.’

‘Night, Geoff.’

Andrew waited until he was gone, then checked on the package in his desk drawer once again. He couldn’t wait for this night shift to begin.

A few hours later, in the early hours of 30 January, Andrew once again rolled open his drawer and pulled out the brown cardboard packaging. Felix was sitting on the desk with him and she sniffed with interest at the unfamiliar smells carried on the package which had travelled through the mail.

‘Guess what, Felix?’ Andrew said to her brightly. ‘This is for you.’

Her head jerked upwards and she fixed him with those big green eyes. ‘For me?’ they seemed to say.

Andrew reached a hand inside the package and pulled out a tiny, pet-sized, yellow hi-vis vest – just like those worn by the human members of the team on the platforms of Huddersfield station, but this one was especially for Felix.

The fluffy cat bent her head to the luminous fabric and examined it quizzically. It had long been apparent to the team that Felix recognised their bright jackets – now, she was getting one of her very own.

Andrew had told no one that he’d ordered it. It was a surprise for them all and he’d kept it completely secret, even after the vest had arrived, as he wasn’t quite sure how Felix would react to it. She could be a diva, after all. She’d never worn any sort of clothing before and Angie Hunte had told him that, although Felix looked absolutely fabulous in her purple glittery collar and wore it quite happily once it was on, she could be a little madam when the team or the groomers tried to get it on or off her. He feared that the temperamental terror might well throw a strop when asked to model her new uniform, so Andrew wanted to introduce Felix to it privately to give her time to get used to it. He wasn’t sure quite how much convincing she might need to wear it.

But Felix seemed delighted with his gift as she gave it a thorough investigation, twitching her enormously long white whiskers. The jacket lay flat upon the desk, its two hi-vis stripes catching the office light from time to time, as she sniffed at it and prodded it with a curious paw. It wasn’t made specifically for cats, but pets in general; it had an adjustable Velcro strap so that dogs, cats and all sorts of creatures could wear it safely.

Ordering it had been Andrew’s idea alone. As he’d settled into Huddersfield station, over the passing months he’d come to realise just how much Felix was an essential part of the team. She was very much considered a member of the team and he knew from his own personal experiences with her what a very special contribution she made to the station. But even though she spent hours and hours of her life out on the platforms with her human colleagues – patrolling or sitting up at the customer-information desk – she wasn’t properly equipped for the job. How was it fair, when she did her duty so diligently, that she didn’t have her own uniform? If she truly was a member of staff – which she undoubtedly was – Andrew thought she deserved her own hi-vis vest, just like her colleagues. He had searched online and found one easily. With a click of a button, Felix’s hi-vis vest was on its way.

The cat finished her sensory exploration of the jacket and sat down on her hind legs, looking pleased as punch. Her right ear twitched backwards as she heard Andrew rustling a second package.

‘More?’ her fluffy face seemed to say. ‘For me?’

There was more. Much more. For the team at Huddersfield didn’t only wear yellow hi-vis vests as they went about their work: they wore company-issued name tags showing their job titles. These were official TransPennine Express ID badges that came direct from head office. In Andrew’s opinion, it was rather unfair that Felix had to work without one.

So, in secret, he had emailed headquarters at Bridgewater House in Manchester.