Рейчел Уэллс - Alfie And George

‘I know, love. I’m sorry. But if I can go and work for DF then at least that’ll be something.’

‘So I have to be a househusband?’ He sounded crosser than I’d ever heard him. I snuck under the table. I wanted to hear the end of this conversation but I also didn’t, if you know what I mean.

‘God, Matt, it’s not the 1950s! Men do look after their children and the house now. And you know full well that if we had a choice then no, you wouldn’t need to — I like being with the kids. At least we have an option — a lifesaver even,’ Polly snapped.

‘But I’ve always worked. I just don’t know if I know how not to work. What am I meant to do, make you a packed lunch and wave you off every day?’ Matt was shouting and Matt never shouted.

‘No, you make terrible sandwiches.’ She tried to laugh. ‘Look, Matt, we don’t have many options. I’ll take this job — it’s a rolling contract so it seems like the perfect solution until you find another role.’

‘Right, so I look after the kids and the home? Play house?’ Matt asked again. It seemed to be his sticking point.

‘They’re your kids and it’s your home so yes. It’s not the end of the world, Matt.’ Now Polly sounded angry. ‘Do you realise how patronising you sound? I’ve been doing this job for five years now and you seem to think it’s beneath you.’

‘Sorry, Pol, I don’t think that, it’s just that I’ve always worked.’ He kept repeating himself but I could tell he was still in shock.

‘I know.’ Her voice softened. ‘But now I have to. Listen, love, you’ll have plenty of time to look for a job and go to interviews when the kids are at school, and at least this way the bills will be paid. It won’t be so bad, you’ll see.’

‘I know, I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m still in shock.’ Ah, I was right. He put his head in his hands. Polly leaned over and put an arm around him.

‘I know, love, but thank goodness for DF Design. Someone is looking after us at least.’ Polly smiled sadly and I slunk off. I was looking after them too, although I couldn’t take credit for the job offer.

Back at my house, I hit my head as I lunged at the cat flap. I was so preoccupied with Matt and Polly that I forgot about it being closed. I’d have a very sore head if I kept doing this. I jumped onto the kitchen windowsill and tried to tap the glass, miaowing very loudly. It wasn’t too long before Claire saw me. I jumped down and ran to the back door.

‘Oh, thank God,’ she said as she opened the door. I tilted my head.‘We’ve got a problem, Alfie. It’s George.’

Summer came running towards me. ‘Deorge, Deorge, Deorge,’ she kept shouting. I felt my heart beat faster, my fur standing on end. What had happened?

‘We can’t find him,’ said Claire.‘He can’t have gone out — he was here after you’d gone and I haven’t opened the door since, but I can’t find him anywhere.’

I made my way into the house, my tail bushy with fear. Claire had opened all the cupboards and emptied them, covering the whole kitchen floor with their contents. I carefully manoeuvred my way through the mess and tried to stay calm. He had to be here somewhere, but I felt scared for the little baby. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have left him. He’d only just moved here. I should have gone out, done what I had to do and then come straight home. What kind of parent was I? I began to feel slightly hysterical as I hunted for him. I could smell his scent but it was everywhere he’d been. I checked the ground floor before climbing the stairs and trying not to panic.

I miaowed loudly but heard nothing in reply. My heart pounded. I checked under Summer’s little bed, which was a cosy hiding place that would be perfect for a kitten, then I looked in all the other rooms, but I couldn’t find him anywhere.

I lay on Claire and Jonathan’s bed to take a break and think of a plan. I’d been hunting for quite a while with absolutely no luck. I was fretting as to where the lad could be. I stretched out and sniffed at the bedding, wracking my brain as to what I could do next. Bingo! I figured it out in my very clever cat way. Claire had obviously just changed the linen on her bed. It was invitingly fresh — just the sort of thing that a little kitten would like. I realised what must have happened and hurried to the linen cupboard. I could hear a gentle snoring — well, more of a snuffle — coming from inside, but the door was closed.

‘MIAOW,’ I shouted with all my might, which brought Claire running towards me. Honestly, humans. It was lucky George had me, I thought, as I nudged at the door.

‘Thank goodness!’ Claire exclaimed as she opened the door.‘Ahh, look at him, he’s so cute.’

‘Oh, bless,’ I thought, as we both stared at George curled up on a pile of freshly laundered towels, fast asleep.

‘I used to watch Summer sleeping for hours,’ Claire said, and as we both stood and stared, I knew exactly what she meant.

‘So what happened?’ I asked George as we sat side by side on Claire and Jonathan’s bed later that evening.

‘It smelled so good in there that I decided to lie down. Then it was so comfortable that I fell asleep and Claire must have closed the door,’ he said. It sounded simple. I’d been shut in cupboards before — it was easily done. I knew it wasn’t his fault, but I had learnt a lesson from my mistake and George needed to as well.

‘OK, I understand. But they were worried about you and so was I. You shouldn’t go into any open cupboards, you risk getting shut in and, well, you were lucky that I could smell you. Claire was too busy emptying all the kitchen cupboards to think of looking for you up here. You could have been in there for hours, days even, if I hadn’t found you.’

‘Days?’ His beautiful eyes were as wide as saucers.

‘Living with humans isn’t always easy, George. But don’t worry, I’m here to teach you.’

‘Thanks, Alfie — Dad.’ When he said that my heart melted.

Summer bounded into the room and dived onto the bed. She scooped George up and ran downstairs, babbling about a new game she wanted to play.

I smiled as I watched them go. Summer was like a human sister to me, and now that George was my kitten I had two little ones to take care of. I was overwhelmed with a need for them both to be happy, but right now I was glad that Summer was there to play with George. Apart from all the human business, running around and having to take care of little ones, plus the cats on the lamppost mystery, I also needed a bit of time to myself to think of Snowball, who I still missed with all my heart. Or the bit of it that George hadn’t stolen anyway.

George had officially been with us for just over a week, and what an exhausting week it had been. I was suffering from sleep deprivation — George still woke most nights — and constant worry. Looking after him had taken its toll on me. This parenting lark wasn’t as easy as I had always assumed. I know humans moan about how hard it is, but I had just assumed that was because they weren’t cats. It seems I was wrong.

The whole house was besotted with George, myself included. Us grown-ups would marvel at the way he would lie on his back and play with his paws, like Summer used to do when she was a baby. It made us all smile. Or the way he would nestle into Jonathan’s neck while he watched TV, his gentle purring making his fur tremble slightly. Or when he lay on the sofa, asleep on his back, and Claire stroked him — he would put his paws over his head, stretching out to be stroked even more. It was the sweetest thing ever.