Рейчел Уэллс - Alfie The Doorstep Cat

Stalking through the cat flap, I found Jonathan sitting at the kitchen table, eating toast and drinking coffee, dressed in sportswear. I miaowed loudly, to announce that I was there.

‘Hello, you. I’m guessing you want to eat?’ I jumped up on the chair next to him, and he laughed.

‘OK mate, hang on a minute. Let me finish my toast.’ I sat and waited, patiently. I think Jonathan had made a massive mistake somewhere along the line. I don’t mean the work thing he told me about, but the house. It was so empty with just him there, almost mocking him; taunting him that he was alone. If I was him, I would have chosen something smaller that didn’t seem so empty with just him and me to fill it. One of the flats at number 22 would probably have suited him better. I understood now why he spoke to me; like Claire, it was loneliness. I began to realise that I wasn’t the only one to have suffered from feeling excessive loneliness; I saw it in Claire, I saw it here, and I’d seen something like it, although perhaps not quite the same, in Polly and Franceska.

There was much for a small cat like me to ponder; there was even more for me to do to put things right.

Jonathan fed me some tuna from a tin, which wasn’t quite as good as the fresh prawns or smoked salmon, but I wasn’t one to complain.

‘I’m going to the gym, Alfie. Need to make sure I don’t get fat living here on my own like a mad man with only a cat to talk to.’ I was startled at his revelation but then he laughed, and I felt relieved. Of course he wasn’t mad, he was just a little unhinged.

I decided to go and get some exercise as well. I’d eaten twice already and the fact that I was now being fed in two homes was something I had to consider. Of course, I didn’t want to give up eating the food; the memory of struggling to eat for days meant that I would never snub another meal in my life. But if the people at number 22 started feeding me as well, then it wouldn’t be just Jonathan getting fat, but me too. And there was no way that that could happen. I’d never fit in the cat flaps for a start.

Despite the fact I was visiting different houses in the street, which meant I stalked between them, I was aware I had become a bit lazy, the way I was in my old life with Margaret. I was also looking better, being a much heartier weight. However, I still couldn’t chance being too lazy or complacent. What if I had to somehow survive on my own again? And although I shuddered at the thought, I knew it was a possibility. Hopefully not one I’d face, but one I had to be prepared for, this time, as I was never going to take chances ever again.

I was curled up in the special cat bed Claire had bought me, when I heard her key in the lock. My new bed was blue and white striped, and although it was not as comfortable as my old cat basket, it was pretty nice. Claire made a bee-line straight for me and gave me a huge fuss, which I really appreciated. I was also relieved. I had been worried she might come back crying; I had even fretted that she might not come back at all. ‘I’ve missed you Alfie,’ she said, and I felt my heart warming, ‘I hope you missed me.’ She was smiling and she looked better. She was still too thin, of course, reminding me of how I was when she first met me. But her hair was glossy and her cheeks had some colour in them. It looked as if the weekend away had done her good.

For a moment, I panicked that it might mean that she would move back there, where she came from, but then I tried to calm myself. She was here, wasn’t she? She had come back; I had to focus on that. I knew I worried far too much for a cat, but that was the consequence of my past. I was learning that I was drawn to helping people who mirrored the feelings I had experienced. The attraction seemed so strong that I knew it was important for me to do whatever I could for them.

She went to the kitchen to feed me and she put the kettle on and made a cup of tea.

After I’d eaten, she went to get a bag and came back with various toys for me. There was a thing that slightly resembled a mouse on a bit of string, a ball, some more catnip, and something that jangled. I rubbed up against her legs, in thanks; but in reality, I would have been just as happy with a shoelace. I’d never been much of a toy cat, not even as a kitten, but that was mainly because Agnes was so disdainful of that sort of thing. I wanted to impress her, so I too would act as if the toys were beneath me. I made an effort to play with them to please Claire, though. I wouldn’t want her to think me ungrateful.

I chased the ball under the sofa, and then almost got stuck trying to retrieve it. I batted it with my paw and it rolled back out. As I emerged, I saw Claire laughing. She clapped her hands in delight. So then I tried to pick up the jangly thing with my paws but it slipped out and across the floor. I chased it again; it made a very strange tinkling noise. Every time I thought I’d got the toy, it slipped from my grasp, so I ended up going backwards and forwards across the room, which was infuriating. Claire seemed to find this delightful, although I couldn’t for the life of me understand why.

She went upstairs, saying something about unpacking, and I decided to have another rest; playing was hard work. Also, the meal I had just wolfed down had made me sleepy – it was time for a cat nap. I awoke to laughter; a fairly alien sound in Claire’s household, so I was immediately alert. Tasha appeared and picked me up, making a huge fuss of me as she nestled into my neck.

‘Hello, gorgeous,’ she said. She was definitely a cat person and I wondered why she didn’t have her own cat as she seemed to like me so much. I knew she didn’t, as I would have detected the smell on her.

Claire reappeared, carrying two glasses.

‘He’ll want to live with you, if you carry on like that,’ she said, laughing. Oh, where had the miserable Claire gone? She seemed like a different person. I couldn’t wait to hear what had caused this change.

‘I wish I could take him home, but unfortunately my other half is allergic to cats, so I just have to enjoy him here.’

‘Oh how awful, really allergic?’

‘Yes, I need to shower when I get home from here and wash my clothes, that’s how bad he is. Of course, if he’s been an idiot, I might just forget …’ They both laughed. I felt a bit affronted. I wasn’t sure that being allergic to me should be a laughing matter. What kind of person was allergic to cats?

Claire left the room again and reappeared with some plates of food. She put them on the dining table, and they both sat down. To my amazement and delight, Claire ate. She ate more than I had ever seen her eat. I wanted to jump for joy, my Claire was definitely getting better, but I decided not to startle her by making a fuss.

‘So, do tell,’ Tasha said. ‘Something good obviously happened this weekend.’

‘Oh God, I feel so much better. Like I’ve completed the first quest in a mission, or something. I confronted my demons and survived them! You know, going home and risking bumping into them. And I did!’ Claire sounded almost gleeful and I tried to understand, but at the moment, it was beyond my limited comprehension.

‘Where?’ Tasha asked, her eyes wide.

‘Mum and I went to the supermarket. She still treats me like I’m five and she insisted on stocking up on food for me to bring home. Honestly, she acts like there are no supermarkets in London.’

‘Claire, get to the point,’ Tasha pushed, with a giggle.

‘Sorry, anyway, so we’re in the vegetable aisle and suddenly they both appear. Him pushing a trolley, and her moaning about something. I saw them before they saw me and neither of them looked happy.’ Claire, however, looked very happy.