Рейчел Уэллс - Alfie The Doorstep Cat

As Claire packed her things, I realised that she was nervous. She kept biting her lip and stopping to sit down, as if her legs didn’t work properly. I prided myself on being a perceptive cat; I assumed that she was scared of bumping into that awful man, Steve, and his girlfriend. But despite this setback, Claire had been doing quite well. She and Tasha were obviously becoming friends, as Claire had decided to go along to this book club thing the following week. She was reading a book, something about a woman who planned to kill her husband. Claire said it would probably have given her ideas had she still been married; it was cheaper than a divorce, apparently. I hoped she would make more friends at the book club. I wanted Claire to be happy again more than anything. I almost felt that my happiness was irrevocably tied up with hers, now.

After a couple of weeks with Claire, I already loved her. I knew because of the way I had loved Agnes and Margaret. Margaret was a beautiful person. She was always smiling, even when she was struggling, and she wanted to help others although she could have done with a lot of help herself. She was a huge inspiration to me and she made me the cat I was.

Claire needed my love and it was my duty to give it. I stayed close to Claire as she packed, giving her extra rubs and making sure she knew I was there. As she took her bag downstairs, she turned to me and picked me up.

‘Are you sure you’re going to be OK when I’m away?’ she asked, her eyes full of concern.

I tipped my head as if to say ‘Of course.’

‘There’s plenty of food; just take care. I’ll miss you.’ She kissed me on the tip of my nose, something she’d never done before. I purred in thanks.

A car honked its horn and she gave me a last stroke before she left the house, locking the door behind her. I hoped that she would be all right and the horrible Steve wouldn’t upset her this weekend, and then I went out.

I greeted a couple of younger cats that were playing in the street and carried on walking to the end of the road to have another look at the house split into two. I wondered if anyone had moved in to the flats yet. I stopped short when I saw a man and a woman by the closed front door of 22A. The woman had something tied to her chest which, on closer inspection, seemed to be a noisily crying baby. The man had his arm around her. She was very beautiful; tall with long blonde hair and green eyes that any cat would be envious of, to be frank. I stayed back so I could observe them for a bit as they locked the door of their new home. Inside, I was jumping for joy; there were three of them, and despite the fact that one of them was smaller than me, it meant a household with three more people to take care of me, rather than one.

I edged closer so I could hear what they were saying.

‘Don’t worry, Pol, it’s going to be lovely when we get the furniture in.’ The man was taller than the woman, and he was kind looking, although lacking in hair.

‘I don’t know, Matt, it’s such a long way from Manchester, and so much smaller than our old house.’

‘Think of it as just a temporary step, it’s a rental and as soon as we’re settled, we’ll get somewhere better. Darling, you do know that I couldn’t turn this job down, it’s for our future; ours and little Henry’s.’ He leant over and kissed the top of the head, which had stopped crying.

‘I know, but I’m scared. I’m terrified.’ She looked as frightened as I had felt when I first started my journey to Edgar Road.

‘Honestly, we’ll be fine, Polly. We can move in tomorrow when the furniture arrives, out of the cramped hotel room into our first home in London, so that’s something positive. This is a new start for us; for us as a family.’

I immediately liked Matt as he took Polly into his arms and enveloped his wife and child the way a proper man should. Yes, I instinctively knew that this would be a good household for me to be part of. They walked away together, and I decided that I would visit them again once they’d moved in. That would be a better time to introduce myself.

I had a spring in my step as I jumped through Jonathan’s cat flap. You see, I knew he liked me, as he hadn’t followed through with his threat to get rid of it. I found him sitting in the living room on the computer again. I managed to look at the screen; there wasn’t a person there, but photographs of shiny cars. I jumped up next to him.

‘Oh, it’s you again? I guess you didn’t understand my deal last night.’ I wanted to tell him that I understood it but I just didn’t agree with it, so I miaowed loudly, hoping that would do.

‘I guess I should at least be thankful that you haven’t brought me anything dead today.’ My heart dropped; I felt terrible to be turning up empty handed. I lay down and put my head on the keyboard. I thought he might be cross, but luckily he laughed.

‘Come on, you can have the rest of the prawns. They’d only be thrown away.’ I licked my lips and followed him to the kitchen. He tipped the prawns into a bowl and I ate them greedily. I wasn’t hungry, but fresh prawns were a huge treat. When I finished eating, I noticed he was dressed nicely tonight; not a suit, but not scruffy. I looked at him with my eyes slightly closed, suspiciously.

‘Right, Alfie the Unwanted, I’m going out on the town tonight. If I were you, I wouldn’t wait up.’ He laughed and, before I knew it, he’d slunk out the front door.

I had two homes but I was still alone. In my old house, I had rarely been on my own. If Margaret went out, then Agnes would be there, and after Agnes died, Margaret would only leave the house for such a short time that I barely even noticed that she was gone.

I couldn’t wait for the new family at 22A to move in. This cat had needs; food, water, warm shelter, laps and love. That was all I required but after what I had been through in my short life, I wasn’t taking any chances. I decided to go to sleep on Jonathan’s expensive looking sofa for now, and despite what he had said, I would wait up for him, because without Claire here he was the only family I had.

I was daydreaming about the past. About living in my old house with Margaret and Agnes. The day was cold, and Agnes was in a lot of pain. Margaret had phoned the vet, who had said the end was imminent. If Margaret wanted to take her in she would give Agnes something to help the pain; it was either that, or put her to sleep.

Margaret sobbed, a bit like Claire had been doing, tears filled with grief ran down her sunken cheeks. I wanted to join in, but Agnes was trying so hard to be brave that I suppressed my own emotion and I snuggled into her, hoping that I wasn’t adding to her pain. Margaret was getting ready to take her to the vet, which wasn’t very easy as Margaret was old and didn’t have a car – she could barely lift the cat carrier any more. She phoned her neighbour, a nice man called Don, who wasn’t much younger than Margaret and he said that he would take her. He was always happy to help Margaret. Agnes said that she thought at one stage they might end up together, after Don’s wife died a few years back, but Margaret was far too fond of her own company, as she was often heard to say.

‘All I need is myself and my cats,’ she used to say, laughing. I could almost hear her voice now.

Back then, I had to stay at home while they took Agnes to the vet. Left in the house alone, I yowled louder than I ever had before. I was so scared about losing Agnes. Even if she came home, I knew there wasn’t much longer in her, I’d heard Margaret talking about that.