Kitabı oku: «Alfie and George: A heart-warming tale about how one cat and his kitten brought a street together»

Chapter One

‘What on earth is THAT?’ I looked at Snowball, my cat girlfriend, then at the creature. We were standing by the wooden fence that surrounded the garden of our holiday home, staring at the strange creature roaming around on the other side. It was quite plump, had a very sharp beak, spiky fur, which looked feathery, and small, mean eyes. It made a funny, high-pitched noise as it eyeballed us, pecking in our direction. I backed away nervously.

‘Oh, Alfie, it’s just a hen! You must have seen one before?’ Snowball laughed.

I took offence, though in actual fact I hadn’t seen a real-life chicken before. But I was supposed to be the man in the relationship so I tried to square up.

‘Hiss,’ I said. There, that’d show him who was boss. But then the hen rushed towards me, wobbling its tiny head and flapping its wings. I jumped back.

Snowball laughed again and tickled me with her tail. ‘It’s harmless, Alfie, honestly.’ I certainly wasn’t convinced. ‘Well, you don’t get many hens in London,’ I huffed, stalking away.

We were somewhere called ‘the country’, and very nice it was too. We were staying in a house in the middle of nowhere, with nothing around for miles except fields. My family – Jonathan, Claire and Summer – and Snowball’s family, the Snells – Karen, Tim, Daisy and Christopher – had rented a house for a week, and they had brought both me and Snowball with them. Cats don’t normally go on holiday so we felt very lucky. When I told my friends, the neighbourhood cats, they were shocked, but we were having a lovely time so far and I thought that perhaps us cats should holiday more often. A change is as good as a rest, my first owner, Margaret, used to say, and she was right – it was just what the vet ordered.

The house itself was large, with five bedrooms, and there was a lovely open fire in the living room, which Snowball and I curled up in front of in the evenings. It was very romantic – although we had to be careful as sparks jumped out every now and then, once nearly singeing Snowball’s beautiful white tail.

We had been told that, if we went out, we mustn’t leave the garden. Our humans were worried about us getting lost – as if that would happen – but so far we had obediently stuck to exploring said garden and doing as we were told. It was a good size; pretty, with lots of interesting bushes and flowerbeds. There was enough to keep us occupied, as it was much bigger than the small back garden I had to put up with in London. However, beyond the garden, where the chickens lived, was the lure of some very lush fields. It was a big temptation for an inquisitive cat like me.

Snowball was less impressed. She’d been a rich cat before she moved to Edgar Road (my street in London), and her family had had an enormous garden in their old house in the country. She didn’t boast about it anymore, but when we first met (a time when she had done her best to be rude to me) she did a bit. But anyway, I had won her over and captured her heart and we’d been together for two years now. The best two years of my cat life.

People always seemed surprised by our relationship at first, but then cats can fall in love just as easily as humans, if not more so. I should know, as I’ve had an awful lot of experience of humans.

Being a doorstep cat, I have a wide variety of humans I call family. I visit more than one home and have many ‘owners’. As well and Claire and Jonathan, I regularly spend time with Polly and Matt and their two children, Henry and Martha, and my Polish family, Franceska, big Tomasz and their children, Aleksy and little Tomasz. I am one busy cat.

I’ve managed to bring my families together so they are all the closest of friends. In my time with them, on Edgar Road and beyond, I’ve seen so much change. Humans seem to change a lot, or at least their lives do, and us cats are often the bystanders that have to sort out the inevitable debris. I take care of my humans, it’s what I do, and I’ve seen the ups and downs, the good and bad, and even the downright ugly, but I have always taken my role of looking after my families very seriously.

‘We ought to go in, I’m getting hungry,’ I said to Snowball, licking my lips. I could have almost eaten the hen, had it not been so formidable. But then I’m not much of a hunter, and neither is Snowball; she’s far too beautiful to kill anything. I still remember how mesmerised I felt when I first laid eyes on her. Even now, after two years, I am one smitten kitten – or smitten cat, more accurately.

‘Race you back,’ she said, giving herself a head start. I bounded after her and we arrived at the open back door at the same time, both slightly breathless from the run.

‘Ah, there you two are,’ said Claire, smiling at me as we padded into the kitchen. Summer, who was two and a half years old, was balanced on her hip. Claire put a bowl down on the highchair and wrestled Summer expertly into the seat as she wriggled in protest. Summer, my human sister, was what Claire called a ‘madam’ and what Jonathan called ‘spirited’. Although she could sometimes be a pain, and tried to pull my tail a bit too often for my liking, I loved her very much. And she compensated with some lovely cuddles.

Summer smiled, picked up her spoon and threw it on the floor. She never tired of this game, although in my opinion she was old enough to know better.

‘Toast,’ she said, in her lispy voice.

‘Eat your porridge, then you can have toast,’ Claire replied sternly.

‘NO!’ Summer screamed, throwing her bowl of porridge on the floor. As usual, I had been standing too close to her highchair, and I carefully licked some of the stray porridge from my fur. When would I ever learn?

Summer was my charge, I felt. I had to look after her, even when she was being a madam. It amused Jonathan, our dad, who said he liked a woman with a strong will. I did too, which is why I liked Snowball and my best cat friend, Tiger. However, Claire found it a bit annoying, I think, although since having Summer she was so happy that I didn’t worry about her too much anymore. Not like I did before anyway.

When I first came to live with Claire she had just got divorced, and she was quite broken. It took a lot of time and effort to put her back together. But then eventually she met Jonathan, one of my other humans, and now they are happily married with their child, Summer, completing our family.

‘Alfie, Snowball, breakfast,’ sang Daisy, Snowball’s teenage owner, putting bowls of tuna down for us.

‘Miaow,’ I thanked her. Daisy was beautiful – tall and lovely. She and Snowball actually looked alike in that they both had almost white fur – or hair, in Daisy’s case. Since Daisy had turned eighteen she’d been working as a model. She was becoming fairly successful already, and that was why she’d come on holiday. She might be too busy to come away with her family in the future, if all went to plan, so she needed to take the chance while she could. Snowball missed her when she was working but was very proud of her, which was touching.

Christopher, Daisy’s sixteen-year-old brother, sat at the table eyeing Summer suspiciously, making sure he was far enough away from her to avoid being hit by any food. He was much more sensible than me.

As I enjoyed my breakfast, I basked in happiness. Although my other families weren’t sharing my holiday, it was almost perfect. I had all the other people I loved around me and of course my beloved Snowball. As the humans ate their breakfasts, happily chatting and making plans for the day, I couldn’t help but feel my heart swell. Life didn’t get much better than this.

After breakfast, the sun slowly emerged, heating the morning into a warm spring day. Summer was playing with some teddy bears on a picnic blanket in the garden, whilst Claire and Karen sat beside her, drinking tea and chatting. Daisy had gone for a run and the men and Christopher had gone to the local town to do some grocery shopping – although Claire said they’d really gone to find a pub. Meanwhile, Snowball and I were relaxing, sprawled out on a warm patch of grass.

‘This is the life.’ I stretched my paws out and rolled onto my back, letting the sun warm my fur.

‘It really is,’ Snowball replied.‘Shall we go and see if we can find some butterflies to chase?’

I didn’t need asking twice.

This place was certainly different than London. Not only were there more animals around, but there was a sort of peacefulness that I hadn’t really experienced before. And the wonderful thing was that it was rubbing off on all of us. All the humans seemed relaxed, which was nice because that didn’t happen often in London; they were usually too preoccupied with work and other stresses. We had all been through some trying times in the last few years; my humans had faced many challenges. Adjusting to life in a new country, trying to have babies, post-natal depression, bullying at school, secrets, heartache – you name it, we’d been through it. I’ve been with them through each experience and have helped to resolve many problems, if I do say so myself. I think the problems brought my families closer together, and it was nice to see that we had finally entered a harmonious phase. Long may it last.

Snowball and I found a flowerbed, which looked as good a place as any to find butterflies.

We sat silently, side by side. We were so happy together that we often didn’t need words. I actually felt as if I knew what Snowball was thinking, and vice versa. In the event, there were no butterflies, but we both dived into the flowerbed when a noisy bee appeared. We tried to lay low as the bee took what it needed from its chosen flower. I knew bees were good – I’d heard enough people saying that – but if you got too close, a sting could be pretty nasty. After the bee buzzed off we rolled around, enjoying the sun and the soft scents of the flowers. It was a pretty romantic time.

‘Alfie, being on holiday with you is the best thing I’ve ever done,’ Snowball purred, putting her paw on mine. I felt quite emotional as I looked at my love.

‘It’s the best thing I’ve ever done, too,’ I replied – and I meant it with all my heart.

Chapter Two

Summer was playing ball with Christopher. Although he treated her with suspicion when she had food, he could be quite good with her at other times.

‘Throw the ball, Sum,’ Chris said. Summer clutched it to her chest and shook her head. She then put it on the ground and sat on it. Christopher laughed. I went over to her and nudged the ball with my paw. Summer giggled and wobbled, rolling off it. She laughed as I lay next to her on the grass, tickling her with my tail. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jonathan approaching us.

‘Honestly, neither of you will play for Chelsea at this rate,’ he said, laughing. He scooped Summer up and swung her around.

‘Jon, she’s just had breakfast, she’ll be sick,’ Claire said, joining them. I stood up and stretched, brushing some grass off my fur with my tongue.

‘Sorry.’ Jonathan rolled his eyes. I gave him a conspiratorial look; Claire did fuss sometimes.

‘Ready?’ she asked.

Jonathan nodded. ‘Right. Alfie, Snowball, we’re off for a day trip, so you guys need to stay here and keep out of trouble.’ He looked at me when he said the last bit.

‘Miaow,’ I said, indignantly.

‘Do you think it’ll be OK to leave the back door open?’ Tim asked as he went to put some bags into one of the cars.

‘Don’t see why not, it’s pretty deserted here,’ Jonathan said.

‘Gosh, I love that we can do that. We’d never be able to on Edgar Road would we?’ said Karen. She and Tim exchanged a look; I wondered if they were thinking about their old homes, as Snowball sometimes did. I would catch her with a faraway look in her eyes, and as much as I knew she was happy, she did miss it. I understood – I still missed my first home at times and, although I loved my home and all my families now, I would never forget it. It wasn’t bad to miss things, I realised. Although it meant you had lost something or someone, it also meant you loved them in the first place. It was hard, but that was how life worked.

We sat by the stone steps that led up to the back door as we watched our families go out for the day. I was quite excited, as it meant a day for us to have our own adventures without worrying about the humans for once.

‘Do you think we should go and explore a bit?’ Snowball asked.

‘Well, the humans said we shouldn’t in case we get lost,’ I replied. I was sometimes a foolhardy cat, but the last thing I wanted to do was get lost in the country. I might never be able to find my way back home!

‘Oh, come on, let’s live a bit. And anyway, I’ve got a good sense of direction.’ Snowball nuzzled me, which meant she knew I was going to give in. However, I couldn’t forget the time that she had got horribly lost, and I had had to launch a rescue mission as a result. I didn’t dare mention it though – I wasn’t looking for an argument or for Snowball to sulk, which she was rather good at when she was cross.

‘OK then, let’s go.’ After all, I told myself, what could go wrong?

We headed out of the garden for the first time and into the neighbouring field. The long grass pleasantly tickled my legs as we ran through it side by side. There were insects buzzing around us, and as we travelled further from the house, we found some more chickens. These ones were actually quite friendly, clucking and scratching at the ground as we crept near them. I got quite close to one actually, trying to demonstrate my bravery, although inside I was like cat-food-in-jelly.

We went through another field and jumped onto a fence.

‘Are your legs OK?’ Snowball asked gently as she saw me grimace. I had an old injury that sometimes affected my back legs, but they weren’t too bad, despite the odd twinge.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’m fine, thanks.’ I jumped down from the fence smoothly to show her that I was all right. Then, feeling my confidence growing, I ran into the field. I was having a lovely time, the wind in my fur, the sun gently smiling down at us. I could get used to living in the country, I thought. Little did I know I was about to get a rude awakening.

‘Moo,’ a voice said angrily.

‘Yelp!’ I screamed, stopping suddenly. I found myself level with a leg, and as I looked up I started shaking. I was facing a monster, and he didn’t look happy to see me. He stared down at me with big, dark eyes, snorting loudly.‘Yelp,’ I screamed again.

‘Snort,’ the monster said, sounding angry. I realised that he was unhappy about us being in his field. He started to stomp and, as I saw the grass being flattened, I started to imagine being squashed beneath those big hooves. He shook his head, violently, as he eyeballed me again. Surely he was about to pounce. I managed to spring back, bouncing off Snowball and back in front of the cow again.

He lifted his head, snorted loudly again and swished his long tail from side to side.

‘It’s OK, Alfie.’ Snowball was beside me. At the sight of her the monster seemed a bit less aggressive. She gently led me a safe distance away.‘It’s just a cow,’ she continued.‘They’re big, and seem aggressive, I know, but they’re really quite gentle.’

I had never seen a cow this close up before and it seemed anything but gentle to me.

‘But it’s … it’s … enormous,’ I stammered, unable to take my eyes off the black-and-white patchy creature. I could feel my back legs trembling with fear, although the cow had turned away, flicking its tail and eating grass as if we didn’t exist. I was flooded with relief.

‘They’re harmless,’ she explained. It seemed I had a lot to learn about these farm animals.

I gladly followed her away from the monster cow. It certainly didn’t look what I would call ‘harmless’.

The rest of our trip passed without incident, although I felt as if I was more skittish than I had been when we set off. But it was also one of the best days ever. We romped through fields, found some lovely trees to admire and were not attacked by any other farm animals, although we saw some sheep and I thought that one of them seemed to take a fancy to Snowball. But they were the same colour and maybe she thought Snowball was a lamb. After all, as Snowball explained, sheep weren’t known for their brains. Not like cats.

Later that evening I was having a catnap, curled up in front of the fire. I needed a rest after our expedition. Although I was generally an active cat I was totally worn out. Maybe it was the country air, whatever that was. Claire kept referring to it, so it must have some effect. Jonathan said it was ridiculous to have an open fire when it was so warm but Karen and Claire wanted it lit, as we didn’t have fires like this at home. I wasn’t complaining; I loved being toasty warm. Snowball was with Daisy, in her room, I think, and I must have nodded off as I started to slowly awaken to the sound of soft voices.

‘Are you sure?’ I heard Karen say. I opened one eye to see her and Claire sitting on the sofa.

‘Pretty much. I’m afraid it’s definitely the case.’ Afraid? What was this? As far as I knew all was well with my families.

‘Oh, honey, I am sorry, I don’t know what to say.’ Karen’s voice was rich with sympathy.

‘Well we have Summer and she’s perfect, even if she is a little diva, but you know I would have loved another child, and Jon would too, but it hasn’t happened. Our doctor has run tests, but it looks as if we’ve been blessed with the only child we’re going to have.’ Although Claire sounded a little bit sad, she wasn’t crying. I hoped that this wasn’t the start of something. I worried about all my humans, but Claire especially. After the dark times she had faced in the past I knew she was prone to sliding into depression.

‘But you had no problems with Summer,’ said Karen.

‘No, it’s just one of those things – nature. It’s funny, but with Summer I was so desperate to have a baby that I really got into a state before I conceived her, but now we’ve been trying for over a year and a half and I’m still quite calm. I guess I feel lucky having such a gorgeous little girl, and of course Jonathan, that I have to count my blessings rather than dwell on what I can’t have.’

‘Have you thought about IVF?’

‘I did do some research but I’m not the most balanced person and with the hormones and injections and stuff, I worry that I’ll become unhinged. Not to mention that it might not work, and would cost a fortune. No, I need to be a good mother to Summer, and with working part time now, I need to be on top of things. To be honest, I’d love to adopt a child, but Jon’s reluctant.’

‘Adoption?’

‘Yes, my dad’s a social worker and I kind of always grew up thinking that giving a child a home would be a great thing to do. I hadn’t thought about it in years but when we found out we couldn’t conceive naturally, my mind immediately turned to adoption. But unfortunately Jon just doesn’t see it the same way.’

I stayed perfectly still as I listened. Of course I knew they wanted another baby, and there had been quite a few hushed conversations behind closed doors, but because everything had been so good for us all, perhaps I had turned a blind eye to the struggles they were having. Or maybe I had been more caught up with Snowball than I realised …

‘Ah, the whole man thing, wanting their genes to run through the veins of a child.’

‘Probably, but he’ll come round, I know he will. We have so much to offer a child, I just need to persuade him that it’s a really good idea,’ said Claire.

‘You know how it is with men, you need him to think it’s his idea.’ They both laughed.

‘Glass of wine?’ Claire suggested.

‘Why not? We are on holiday after all.’

As Karen and Claire drank their wine I marvelled at how far Claire had come. When I first met her she had been a mess – divorced, heartbroken, drinking too much and miserable. But now she was so happy and not even this setback, something that would previously have threatened to derail her, could defeat her. She wasn’t a victim anymore, and I was so overjoyed that I jumped up onto her lap and touched my nose to her hand. I wanted her to know how proud I was of her.

‘Oh, Alfie, I love you.’ She kissed the top of my head. I snuggled into her, thinking that this holiday lark wasn’t bad at all. Despite the monster cow.