Рейчел Уэллс - Alfie And George

After the linen cupboard incident I barely let him out of my sight. I needed to teach him how to fend for himself, which he definitely needed. Despite my lesson on the importance of staying out of cupboards, I had to drag him out of a kitchen cupboard the following day. He said he wanted to explore, which I understood, but I seemed to be constantly warning him of the dangers. And suddenly dangers were everywhere. I wasn’t sure if I could kitten-proof the house, let alone the world — an even more terrifying thought.

He had also been pinching my food; I caught him with his nose in my tuna, and, well, let’s just say I’m not used to sharing. But I couldn’t bring myself to get angry with him, not when he looked at me with those cute eyes, that smile and his little whiskers. I was putty in his paws. I found telling him off difficult already, but I knew I had to, because that was a part of parenting.

I was proud of him at the same time; he was doing so well using the litter tray, there had only been one terrible incident when he had done his business in Jonathan’s slipper. Jonathan acted as if someone had committed murder — they were Italian leather slippers, apparently — and Claire had to pacify him for ages. When we were alone, I explained to George that Jonathan had always been a bit hot-headed and his bark was worse than his bite — excuse the dog reference, which was another thing I had to teach George all about. Although he still couldn’t go out, I needed to prepare him for when he did. We spent our evenings before bedtime having lessons about life. I was taking my parental responsibilities very seriously. George had a lot to learn and teaching him was really taking my mind off Snowball. By the end of the day I was often so tired that, once I had settled George into bed for the night, I fell straight into a deep, dreamless sleep myself.

After me sleeping in his bed the first night, we both now slept in mine, which was a bit bigger and more comfortable for the two of us. Claire thought it was adorable and took photos to put on something called Facebook. As George nestled into me, the warmth of him was undoubtedly comforting. It reminded me of when I used to sleep next to Agnes, back in another of my nine lives. I was still unsure that Claire had been sane, getting George and thrusting me into the role of parent, but on the plus side I had no time to indulge in my heartbreak anymore.

I’d hardly been out, but I had managed to snatch some time with Tiger, who was keeping me abreast of any cat news in the neighbourhood. We were still no clearer on the cat pictures, but apparently she had seen another one on the way to the park the other day. It was getting more and more mysterious.

I missed seeing my other friends and planned on spending some time with them the following day. As Summer and Claire would be at home, I was hoping it would be OK to leave George for a little while. I also hadn’t been to Polly and Matt’s, although I had seen Polly and the kids at our house — Martha was just as obsessed with George as Summer was. Henry wasn’t as interested, so he and I watched TV together while they played, treating George like one of their cuddly toys. George loved it — he didn’t mind even being manhandled. I hadn’t seen Matt, who was busy job hunting, though I worried about him, of course. Polly seemed OK, albeit not quite her usual self, but I was trying to keep that worry on the back burner for now.

Early evening, I was in the garden. Claire had left the cat flap open for me as she was taking George into the bathroom with her while she bathed Summer. I remember when Summer first arrived, Claire had moaned to Jonathan that she didn’t have any time to herself — even going to the loo and showering had become a luxury. I had thought she was exaggerating. Well, guess what, she wasn’t — as I was quickly finding out. So I decided to make the most of this rare time alone. The cool breeze of the summer evening felt wonderful on my fur and I enjoyed it thoroughly before reluctantly returning inside. I wanted to make sure George ate a good tea and cleaned himself before bedtime … I realised there was so much to do as I ran upstairs, just in time to hear a disturbing noise.

‘YOWL!’ I heard his little voice cry out.

‘Deorge, Deorge,’ Summer cried. I panicked and ran to the bathroom door, bashing against it until Claire finally opened it.

George was sitting on the bath mat, dripping wet, and Summer was standing up in the bath. Claire was trying not to laugh. I allowed myself to breathe again.

‘Oh, Alfie, George fell into the toilet. I didn’t realise he could jump up that high but he must have climbed up onto the loo seat while I was washing Summer and then fallen in,’ she explained.

Of course he could jump up, I thought, he was a clever kitten.

‘Right, now, Sum, I’ll get you out of the bath and then pop George in, we don’t want him smelling of toilet cleaner.’ As Claire wrapped Summer in a towel and gently bathed George, he looked far from happy. I gave him a knowing look; tonight our lesson would be about water.

By the time George had recovered and dried off, it was teatime. Jonathan had come home from work and was soon laughing at George’s antics, which was lovely to hear — he hadn’t been laughing much lately, although I hadn’t had a chance to get to the bottom of that yet. Claire told him that they had to make sure the loo lids were always down now, which was a relief; there were so many hazards to think about when you had a kitten. Anyway, Jonathan was smiling as he changed his clothes; he was going to Matt’s house for a boys’ night while Polly was coming here. Franceska was joining us too, so I was excited. Normally I would move between the two houses for boys’ night and girls’ night, but as George needed me I would be with the ladies tonight. Hopefully I’d pick up some new information about everything that was going on around here.

‘Don’t want go bed!’ Summer shouted as Jonathan tried to coax her upstairs.

‘If you come to bed now I’ll read whatever story you want, but if not then no story,’ he said. I watched her face as she weighed up the situation. Summer didn’t like to concede anything, so it was hard to tell which way it would go.

’K,’ she said in the end.‘But only if Deorge comes.’ I felt a little stab of jealousy at all the attention George was getting, but I adored him too much to really mind. I had had a lot of attention in my day after all. Perhaps it was time to step aside for the lad.

‘Magic touch,’ said Jonathan as he picked George up.‘But, Claire, couldn’t you have named the kitten something Sum could actually say,’ he said, laughing as Summer kept saying ‘Deorge’ over and over.

‘Right, George,’ I said later, when the living room was empty, with Summer asleep upstairs and Jonathan gone. ‘Are you ready to go to bed yet?’

‘No. I want to see the others.’

‘OK, you can stay up a bit later tonight, but you must tell me when you’re tired. And we need to talk about water. And the hazards of the toilet.’

‘I didn’t like it much,’ George admitted.

‘No, us cats should avoid water if we can, apart from drinking it of course.’ I went on to tell him about my past experiences. I had once nearly drowned, after all, and I didn’t want George to be in any danger. They say cats have nine lives, and I reckon I’ve used up about three or four of mine, but I didn’t want to take any more chances and I didn’t want my little boy to either.

The doorbell interrupted our discussion and I ran to the door with George on my heels. As Claire opened it, and Polly and Franceska came in, with wine and hugs, I felt happy. We followed them into the kitchen where Claire poured wine and I drank some water before settling on Franceska’s lap. Polly scooped up George and he purred as she cuddled him.