Рейчел Уэллс - Alfie And George

‘I know, and I love them all, but they don’t live with me. I’m not their father.’

‘But you are like Alfie and George’s dad now, as well as Summer’s.’

‘I sometimes think that perhaps I could do it, but I’m scared, Claire. And by the way, I know we treat them like they’re children but Alfie and George are cats.’

I did fleetingly think that Jonathan hadn’t exactly welcomed me when I first met him, physically ejecting me from this very house a number of times, but then I knew that was a very different Jonathan to the one I had now. I had won him round and Claire had fixed whatever was wrong with him. Now he was the best father anyone could have. Well, apart from me of course!

‘I know that, and it is scary. I’m sorry I’ve been so determined to do it that I haven’t really thought how frightening it is. I’m not just thinking about me, you know. I think that expanding our family in this way will be good for all of us. Summer would really love a sibling, we have a loving home to offer any child, and who cares if he’s older than her.’

‘He? Don’t tell me you’ve already got a child and haven’t told me.’

I thought I wouldn’t put it past Claire actually. Jonathan looked even more terrified.

‘Of course not.’ Phew, I was relieved.‘But in my head it’s a boy. A big brother for our Sum, someone to take care of her. To protect her while we protect him.’ Claire had tears in her eyes, and I felt a hit of emotion. It would be so perfect, to open our home, our family to a child who didn’t have one. That’s what they had done with me.

‘I would like that. I’d also like to have another child, but Claire, what if I don’t feel the right way about them, what if I don’t feel that I’m their parent?’

‘Trust me, you will. When the right child comes here, you will feel it.’

‘But how can you be so sure?’ he asked.

‘Because of Alfie and George.’

It was over six months since George had gone missing. He was big now, and never got into any trouble. Pah, who am I kidding? He was always up to something. Luckily he had grown out of hide and seek — I think being trapped in Henrietta’s house for so long had put him off hiding. The local paper had called her a mad cat woman — I have to admit, I actually felt a bit sorry for her. She was actually a woman who loved cats, although of course that didn’t mean she could just nick us off the street. Anyway, despite his ordeal, George still loved playing with bags, boxes and curtains, jumping up and climbing. I was forever telling him off but I had learnt that was an important job for any parent, cat or human.

However, I also made sure he knew he was loved. I was always on hand with a nuzzle whenever he needed one — or if I’m honest, whenever I did. Making sure George knew how loved he was was my most important job. It was so funny, how reluctant I had been when he first arrived, how I wanted to be alone with my heartbreak, but Claire had obviously known what she was doing.

I was teaching George how important us cats actually were in the lives of our humans. He did get a bit carried away, telling me that his latest goal was to make Summer less bossy. I wished him luck with that; it was too ambitious a plan, even for me. And for him, I thought, as I watched her still insisting that he pretend to be her baby. But the boy was taking after me, and although there was no blood shared, I could never love anyone more. A chip off the old block, he was eagerly lapping up information and charming all the neighbourhood cats, even Salmon; he pretty much had us all wrapped round his little paws.

Tiger had become such a great surrogate mum to George too. We spent so much more time together and although she was still sarcastic, judgmental and a little scathing of my more sentimental side, she took George under her paw as if he was her own. We were quite a team, the three of us. We had a bond I knew no one could ever take away from us, and we spent more time together than ever. Even Claire and Jonathan had noticed the time we spent together, calling Tiger and I an ‘old married couple’. They thought it was funny. I did not. There was nothing old about me.

And our other cat friends were all part of our lives in a way they hadn’t been before. Losing George and Pinkie had bonded us in a way that took us all by surprise. The cats of Edgar Road were a force to be reckoned with, and not to mention Dustbin, whose friendship I valued highly.

My families were all doing well again, and I had my paws crossed that it stayed that way. I didn’t for one minute think that it would — after all, it never did — but I had learnt to enjoy the good times and only worry about the bad when they actually came.

Tash was now a fully-fledged resident of Edgar Road and George and I visited her flat regularly. She was seeing Max and apparently their status was ‘in a relationship’. She was cautious, but happy. And though it hadn’t been plain sailing, they weren’t friends, Tash and Dave had reached a level of agreement over Elijah which, according to Tash, was the most she could hope for. And lovely Elijah was so laid back and happy; he was getting big but he was the loveliest boy. The adults joked that he and Summer would get married one day but to be honest I wasn’t sure it was a good idea, Summer would run rings around him. He’d be totally henpecked — I had learnt what that phrase meant from my holiday in the country and my rescue mission. Of course, I loved Summer and I loved her bossiness, I just didn’t wish it on anyone else.

I had been to stay with my Polish family, with George as well, because Claire and Jonathan had had something important to do. They were much happier now and Aleksy told me he was no longer worried about his parents. Big Tomasz was busy, and they were planning on opening their third restaurant, but they had put such a good formula in place that he didn’t have to actually be working all the time. He was the brains behind the food, his business partner looked after the business side, and they had good chefs and managers working for them. They were even talking about moving to a bigger home, so the boys, who were growing so fast, would have more space. I could see their point but I worried that I would miss Dustbin. George and I loved hanging out with him. He’d declared that George was a very good hunter, which I didn’t approve of; but I couldn’t really stop him, it was natural for most cats and I knew I was an anomaly. But I enjoyed spending time with Dustbin, who was one of the wisest cats I knew; even if they moved, I would find a way to see him, I knew the way to his home by now. Franceska was saying how wonderful it would be if they could live on Edgar Road again, although they hadn’t seriously looked at anything at this stage. Jonathan joked that they were turning into ‘The Waltons’, although I didn’t know what he meant. I would love to have them back on our street — I would have another home to visit regularly and I would feel like a proper doorstep cat again. You could never have too many homes.

I’d tried explaining this to George when I’d settled him back home. He had been a little traumatised by his ordeal but mainly because of the noise of the other cats.

‘This is your home,’ I’d said.‘Always remember that.’

‘But what about Matt and Polly’s?’

‘Well, yes, that’s your home too.’

‘And Franceska and Tomasz.’

‘Yes, that’s your home too, but nowhere else.’ I was getting a bit frustrated.

‘Tash?’

‘OK, George, what I am trying to say is that these are your homes, all the ones you mentioned. But the easiest way to look at it is that your home is wherever I am.’ He seemed to accept that.