Кейт Мур - Felix The Railway Cat

‘Can we have a name badge for Felix, please?’ he’d written, and waited with bated breath for their response.

Well, they’d thought he was nuts – absolutely nuts. But they agreed to make one anyway. Andrew had been delighted with it when it arrived. It was exactly like the formal badges he and Angie and the other team members wore, totally proper: a silver metal badge with a smooth white front and a safety pin on the back. Felix’s name was written in clear black letters in the middle of it, while the formal TransPennine Express logo was positioned artfully in the top-right corner. It looked even more splendid than Andrew had imagined.

‘All right, we’ll do it!’ HQ had emailed him. ‘What job title do you want on it?’

Now, forget ‘To be or not to be?’ – that was the question. From what Andrew had observed, Felix did way more customer-service work than actual mouse-catching – so should her badge reflect that massive contribution she made every day to the commuters and customers of Huddersfield?

But no – it didn’t seem quite right to give her the same job title as everyone else.

Felix, as befitted her feline form, was ordinarily termed ‘the pest controller’ by colleagues – it was what she had been called by the team ever since Angie had filled in her very first disbursement form for Felix’s food: Pest controller needs nourishment … It was a long-standing joke.

Yet that didn’t seem quite right either. ‘Pest controller’ seemed a bit too ordinary for Queen Felix. The cat clearly thought she ran the station – and according to the hierarchy chart that had hung in the office for many years, she did . ‘Pest controller’ didn’t recognise her many years of experience, for she now outranked in years of service many of the newer members of the team; after all, she’d been there longer than Chris Bamford and Andrew himself. She needed a job title which rewarded that service and her extensive expertise, and which also recognised her own regal sense of superiority over the station. What could it be?

As Andrew pulled the metal badge from the package and formally presented it to Felix, there were three neatly typed words written below her name.

SENIOR PEST CONTROLLER

Felix had been promoted.

Andrew felt rather too self-conscious to say ‘Congratulations!’ as he handed it over, but Felix looked thrilled nonetheless. She sniffed enthusiastically at the badge to begin with – though, admittedly, her eagerness soon faded once she realised it wasn’t a badge-shaped treat.

Andrew took the badge back from her curious twitching whiskers and securely fastened it to the chest of the hi-vis vest.

‘So, how about it then, Felix?’ he asked her. ‘Shall we give this a go?’

The cat inclined her head against his proffered hand. He gave her ears a good scratch to encourage her, and then picked up the station cat’s new uniform.

‘I’m going to put it on you, now,’ he told her, like a practised dresser working backstage at the New York Ballet, reassuring his charge during a quick change. He opened up the jacket and placed it across Felix’s fluffy black back. She looked up at him enquiringly as he did so, as though to say, ‘What are you doing?’

The jacket had two Velcro straps – one for under the belly and one for around the chest. As Andrew fastened them, he chattered away in a friendly fashion to Felix, stroking and reassuring her, but in truth she didn’t seem to need it. She appeared curious more than anything else, and once it was on she didn’t mind it at all.

In fact, she seemed quite happy.

Released from Andrew’s hands, the railway cat promptly had a walk about the desk wearing her brand-new uniform, rather as we humans do when we’re trying on new shoes.

‘Well, don’t you look smart,’ said Andrew proudly.

And she did. The luminous jacket glowed brightly against her dark fur, while the neat fastening around her chest made her look somehow pulled in and puffed up, like a proud peacock. Her long white whiskers skated along the edge of the jacket, and as Felix put her best foot forward on the desk, she looked as well turned out as any child might on their very first day of school.

Felix seemed to enjoy her new official get-up. In pride of place on the left-hand side of her chest was her name badge bearing her new job title. Andrew didn’t want to miss the opportunity to record this momentous milestone in Felix’s career so, while she happily strutted about on the desk, he slipped out of his chair and started taking pictures.

Snap! Felix prowling past the blank screen of a computer.

Snap! Felix pausing on the edge of the desk, as though conducting a shoot on a clifftop, her fur blowing in the breeze. She stared expertly into the middle distance as Andrew moved and clicked around her.

He took shot after shot. She looked brilliant! He couldn’t believe how well it had all come together. For about five minutes, Andrew and Felix were hard at work on their modelling shoot. Andrew took as many photos as he could, trying to get the best one possible. It was about 4 a.m. and the rest of the station was completely deserted and still – except for this hive of activity in the team leaders’ office. The perfect shot came when Andrew was crouched down awkwardly and looking up at the senior pest controller from below, as she posed nobly on the end of the desk. Taking the shot from below somehow emphasised her stature now that she was a senior member of staff.

He glanced at his smartphone after he had taken it. That was a great photo – Felix looked so professional! Her smart new name badge was clearly visible in shot, as was the vest. Most importantly of all, Felix’s face was a picture: she wore a very serious expression, as though she were about to head out onto the platforms right that minute and begin her diligent duty. She had one paw slightly forwards, taking a step: ready, as always, for action.

‘You look great, Felix,’ Andrew said with feeling. Gently, he eased her out of the outfit and tucked it away in his drawer again.

Felix shook her fur – for it had been flattened a bit by the jacket and she needed to puff it out again for the golden-girl glamourpuss look that she favoured. Then she jumped down off the desk and wandered away, thinking no more of it.

But Andrew’s work wasn’t yet done. Chuckling a bit to himself, he went through the pictures and pulled out that money shot. He attached it to an email addressed to all the team at Huddersfield station and wrote in jest:

Date: 30/01/2016

Time: 04.42

Subject: Felix’s new uniform

Hi all,

Below are some pictures of Felix in her new uniform, please make sure this is worn at all times; regardless of any injuries you may sustain when attempting to dress her.

Of course, Felix was never actually going to wear the uniform on duty – she was too much of a diva for that. It was all part of the joke. But the real joke was going to be that picture. His colleagues had known nothing of his plan to get Felix a hi-vis vest – let alone an official name badge too – and Andrew couldn’t wait for their reaction. If it was anything like his own, this was going to go down brilliantly.

And it did. All that day throughout Huddersfield station there were guffaws and giggles as team members opened up the email and saw Felix kitted out in her brand-new uniform.

‘I thought it was brilliant!’ exclaimed Angie. ‘Super! Wonderful!’

Everyone thought it was really cute – and a lot of fun. Andrew also got quite a few cheeky emails back, telling him he was mad because of what he’d done and the lengths to which he’d gone to do it: absolutely mad .