Рейчел Уэллс - Alfie In The Snow

When he’d been untangled and sat back on the floor I went up to him.

‘What did I say?’ I chastised.

‘You said, don’t attack the tree before Harold sees it. Well he’s seen it now.’

I couldn’t argue with that.

Chapter Thirty

How we got to Christmas Eve, I don’t know, but it was now upon us. December tended to do that. With the excitement of the decorations, the nativity, Aleksy and then Harold, it had been one of the busiest Decembers for my humans, and especially for me. It was flying by, and giving me very little time to enjoy the festivities or to grieve, both of which I wanted, and needed, to do. However, I was trying very hard to put everything aside to enjoy today.

Christmas Eve was a very special day with all my families. Even Tomasz took the day off from the restaurants. And he closed them all on Christmas Day and Boxing Day, he said it was important for him and his staff to have family time. The only problem was that my families weren’t together on Christmas Eve, so I had to travel if I wanted to see everyone. Claire and Jonathan were busy with last-minute preparations for the big day. Claire was preparing any food that she could ready in advance and Jonathan had to try to keep two very hyperactive children and one hyperactive kitten entertained and calm, which was no easy feat. I did try to help him but it was impossible. He gave up and took them out to the park to try to run off some of their excitement, and he called for Matt, who came with Henry and Martha. Polly was doing some last-minute shopping, which she always did. She was always a last-minute person, whereas Claire was super organised. I just hoped she remembered to buy enough cream for pudding because I was especially looking forward to that.

I was determined to put any sadness about Tiger away for the day; if George could do it then so could I. I still missed her and I knew she would be the one cat I wanted to visit today but couldn’t. Nonetheless, Christmas was a time for fun, and I was going to do my very best.

It had been a bittersweet time since Harold’s welcome-home party. He and Marcus were firmly part of our family now. They sort of fitted in as if they had always been there, actually. Marcus was funny, kind, and had been very hurt by his ex-wife, which would have made him perfect for Sylvie, if she hadn’t been quite so unhinged. Though I had to stop thinking that, as I had quite enough to cope with without trying to matchmake. But I couldn’t help it, I was still hoping for a way to get my next-door neighbours back into the fold, but so far my one-sided conversations with Tiger hadn’t yielded any inspiration.

My other friends hadn’t exactly been full of helpful advice; even Elvis hadn’t seen a TV show about it. It was as if, without Tiger, we were devoid of plans, and I hoped that my career of helping people hadn’t died with her. The gap she left in our friendship group, our family, our relationships was vast and obvious to us all. She had been like the glue that held us all together in a way and, without her, we had to try that bit harder, but all the while knowing something, or rather someone was missing.

George was now coping so much better than I ever imagined he would. He missed her, he talked about his ‘Tiger mum’ a lot, in a way which made me want to weep, but he also kept himself busy. He visited Harold, those two were thick as thieves, and I let him have space for that friendship, as I did with Hana. He told me how he would sit next to Harold on his new sofa, watching a TV show about ‘very old things’ and eating biscuits dunked in tea, which was now George’s new favourite food. I have to admit I couldn’t resist going to spy on them a little. I managed to watch them sometimes, keeping out of sight on the front window, and they did look very sweet together – not something I ever thought I would say about angry Harold. But he wasn’t angry any more, he was happy, and as I knew from my years of experience, happiness changes people for the better, which was why I was such an advocate.

George had also been spending time with Hana in their house, though sadly that had stopped this week, as Susan, the cleaner, had gone away on holiday until after Christmas. He was trying to persuade Hana to come outside but she wouldn’t, or rather she couldn’t. But, George, a chip off the old block, wasn’t giving up, and said that he was going to redouble his efforts in the new year and was hopeful that by summer she might have experienced the great outdoors. I was happy for him to have a project. She was lovely, Hana, but he said she was homesick, and also of course she was living with two miserable people. Although Hana didn’t complain, it was all so sad for her, and now George couldn’t even go in and cheer her up and they’d had to go back to having their through-the-window conversations.

‘You see, Dad,’ George explained to me, very maturely, I may add. ‘I miss Tiger mum, but I know she would be pleased because I am spending time with a lonely person and cat, and then they aren’t quite as lonely when I’m there.’

I thought I would burst with pride for my lovely, kind, caring kitten. Tiger and I had both taught him well.

Christmas Eve passed in a whirl of activity with all the families that George and I decided to visit. We always spent Christmas Eve together and liked to think we were a bit like Santa cats as we delivered good cheer to everyone we cared about. Although we didn’t dress up. Claire had tried to dress me up once and let’s just say it didn’t end well for any of us.

We started with Harold. Marcus and he were laughing in the living room as we sat on the windowsill until they let us in. Their Christmas tree was wonky and even George didn’t seem keen on trying to jump onto it any more, which was a bit of a relief for me. They were both preparing sprouts, which they were going to bring to us for lunch tomorrow, and some other vegetables which were all very sensible, and not terribly tempting for us cats. But Marcus said he also had bought some nice wine, chocolates for the adults and a big jar of sweets for the children, which I knew would be gratefully received. He looked at George and I, and then winked at his dad.

‘We’ve got a present for the lovely cats too,’ he said. My ears pricked at this and I hoped it was some kind of fish. Although I think George was hoping for dunked biscuits.

‘We better had, these cats deserve a medal,’ Harold said, affectionately, and I basked in the fact I’d been acknowledged for once. But I would much rather have had pilchards than a medal. I wasn’t even sure what a medal was.

We left them a little while later full of good cheer and went to visit Polly and Matt. Matt was trying to get the children to sit still and watch a film, but they weren’t really in the mood. They were both so excited, babbling about what Santa would bring them, and even Martha, who was normally quite chilled out, was bouncing around.

‘Alfie and George,’ Henry beamed, as we entered the living room.

‘Oh good, we can play,’ Martha said and Matt just shook his head in defeat. Their living room was decorated beautifully but then as Polly was an interior designer we all expected nothing less. Their tree was so tasteful, and she got away with it by giving the children their own tree to decorate, which was in the corner of the living room and was a bit of a mess. Polly told Claire it was alright because you couldn’t really see it, but George loved it because he could jump on it, which totally ruined it, but made the children laugh. I despaired along with Matt, but Polly said he could do anything to that tree as long as he didn’t touch hers. For once, George actually took notice of this and didn’t dare go near her tree. No one did, not even Matt.