Рейчел Уэллс - Alfie In The Snow

‘OK, I’ll say sorry. It was worth it, wasn’t it, Henry?’

‘Sure was, Tobe.’

I agreed. It really was worth it.

‘What about me?’ Martha asked. ‘Do I have to say sorry?’

‘Well you should,’ Polly said. ‘You knew all about it so that makes you guilty too.’

‘OK.’ Martha shrugged in the good-natured way she always did.

‘But not me?’ Summer said.

‘Why not you?’ Jonathan asked.

‘I’m a star, I’m allowed to do what I want,’ she said.

‘No, you are not.’ Claire rolled her eyes. ‘You apologise too, young lady.’ Summer scrunched her nose up.

‘And guess what?’ Aleksy said. It was the first time he had spoken and his voice was animated as he looked at his phone.

‘What?’ Tomasz asked.

‘George is trending. The video is on the internet already and “cat as baby jesus” already has thousands of views. George, you’re famous,’ he said, punching the air with joy. ‘Tommy, the video you put on YouTube is being watched and shared. We might get rich!’

‘Good thinking, boys. We could make some money out of this.’ Jonathan rubbed his hands together.

‘Jonathan, don’t make this worse,’ Claire warned.

‘Oh come on guys, look how happy it’s made the internet.’ Matt grinned.

George looked nonplussed as he licked his paws.

Everyone was relaxed again. The kids were playing by the Christmas tree. The adults all had drinks and snacks and Claire had lit her hundred candles. To be honest, I didn’t expect this to last long – they took ages to light and to blow out so she didn’t bother too much. Her interest in ‘hygge’, whatever that was, was definitely waning. But it looked and felt Christmassy, as the tinsel glinted, the tree lights sparkled and the candle flames danced. I thought of Tiger, of course, and how much she would have loved to be around for Christmas, how much we would have loved having her around. That was the weird thing about grief, it appeared at the strangest times. I was happy, with my families, but then I thought of her and I was sad again. But happy, and sad. It was most confusing.

‘Oh no, George is on fire,’ Tomasz screamed.

‘Yowl,’ George said. He had caught his tail on one of the candles and it was now on fire. My poor boy. I ran around in circles looking for something to put the fire out with, as did the adults.

Thankfully Aleksy and Tommy were quicker than all of us. Aleksy grabbed George, holding him away, and Tommy threw a glass of water over his tail, then grabbed one of Claire’s ‘hygge’ blankets – there were quite a few – and wrapped it around him.

‘Oh my goodness, is he alright?’ Claire asked, tearfully. I felt my heart pounding.

‘Meow,’ George said. I knew that meant he was in pain but he was alright.

‘I think so,’ Aleksy said.

‘Tommy, Aleksy, great job,’ Jonathan said. ‘But we need to get George to the vet, there’s a clinic I can take him to,’ he said.

Not the vet, I thought, but this time I agreed with them.

‘I’ll drive, I haven’t been drinking,’ Tomasz said.

‘Oh, that was so scary,’ Polly said.

‘I think I’ll get rid of the candles,’ Claire finished.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

It was very exciting, Harold was coming home. Well, it was to everyone else, because I, quite frankly, was having a down day. There would be all these distractions that I was used to, being the kind of doorstep cat I was, but then I would remember how much I missed Tiger and my heart would collapse all over again. I tried to keep my tail upright but, sometimes, it just didn’t want to do it and all I felt capable of was curling up in my bed and yowling. George was my salvation in the darker days, him and my families of course, but mainly him.

Since becoming the star of the school nativity play, and actually getting to spend time with Hana, he was doing pretty well. Of course the tail incident was still fresh in our minds, but apart from it being painful and singed, George was fine. The vet had given him an injection which took some of the pain away and my resilient boy had bounced back. Toby said all of the school now wanted to come to our house to meet George, and Summer suggested selling tickets – Jonathan was proud at this, Claire not so much so. And George took being famous in his stride but I could tell he quite liked it. He still talked to me about missing Tiger mum, and how hard he found it to walk past her house. I knew that one. Some days I would find myself in her back garden, staring at the closed cat flap as if she would slide through it, but of course she never would. Sometimes seeing her house, knowing she wasn’t there, floored me, so I understand how he felt. One day, I literally froze as I approached the house and couldn’t bring myself to walk past it. It was beyond hard.

After the apology at school, the children had returned to normal for the last week of term. Well, as normal as they ever were at Christmas. Summer declared that she was going to be a famous actress when she was older and Toby said he wouldn’t want to be an actor, because there were too many girls involved, so he was going to do something like be a spaceman, where you didn’t have to hold anyone’s hands. Henry and Toby were firm friends again and Martha, with her customary laid-back manner, was just lovely Martha.

So many people had viewed the video that George had even been mentioned in a newspaper, and now he felt that he was the most famous member of the family, which of course he was. But no one dared tell Summer that.

Amidst all the chaos, Christmas was drawing closer and closer. More and more of the advent calendar doors were open, festive food was being bought, presents wrapped, cards displayed. The weather was also getting colder, frost greeted us most mornings and everyone talked of snow. Despite the ache that now sat with me daily for Tiger, I couldn’t help but enjoy everyone’s festive spirit. I knew they felt as if it was the most wonderful time of the year and I tried to bask in their happiness even if I wasn’t going to ever say this was my favourite Christmas.

It couldn’t be, not without Tiger here. The thing was that, last year, when we went away to our holiday cottage in Devon for Christmas, I hadn’t seen her but I’d known she was there. And when we had returned home, we’d all been so excited to share our stories. She’d told me that she got extra turkey, some toys and a very fetching new red collar for Christmas. In return, I’d told her that we’d spent time with our friend Gilbert in Devon and, although the beach was freezing, we had braved it, and I’d managed to keep George out of the water this time. It was moments like these, sharing moments, that kept friendship and love alive, I believed, and so I was still sharing with her; every evening I had a chat to her before going to sleep. It was just very one-sided.

‘I can’t wait to see my friend Harold again,’ George said, hopping with excitement, as we sat on the windowsill looking out at the quiet street. Marcus was collecting Harold this afternoon, and Polly and Franceska were at his house now, getting it ready for his welcome-home party. We were both invited and I just hoped Harold wouldn’t tell us to get lost or wave his stick at us now. Apparently he wouldn’t, he’d told Jonathan that we were both welcome in his house after all. George was so looking forward to it; he’d taken ages getting himself looking his best, as had I. I was one cat who always took care over his appearance – even when I was heart-broken, I had learnt not to let myself go.

Claire returned with Toby and Summer and shortly afterwards the doorbell announced the arrival of Franceska, Tommy and Aleksy.