A Friend Called Alfie

by Rachel Wells

  ‘We’re planning a surprise for George, so he can’t know we’re here yet.’

  ‘Oh fun!’

  I shook my tail. This was anything but fun.

  Tentatively I led Pickles safely across the road and followed George to the bus stop.

  ‘Right, come on, we have to get on the bus but no one can see us.’

  We managed to get on by staying close to some human legs and then as I saw George making his way up the back of the bus, I quickly got Pickles to come with me and we hid behind a big shopping trolley at the front.

  ‘Be really quiet and still,’ I commanded as Pickles wiggled his bottom excitedly. I could see how George got away with it – although I was unsure how on earth he’d learnt to take the bus in the first place. Most people were staring at their phones, a couple had books, so it was relatively easy to go unnoticed. When the bus stopped, Pickles and I lurched a bit, so I sort of snuggled into him to try to keep us still. At the next stop someone stood on my tail as they were getting off. I had to bite my tongue not to yelp although it hurt. After what felt like ages, I noticed George go and wait by the doors, and I told Pickles to prepare to get off the bus. I mentally crossed my paws that he would stay close to me, I couldn’t imagine the sort of trouble we’d be in if I lost him on a bus. The bus came to an abrupt halt, and George, looking every inch the expert, hopped off. We followed managing once again to fall into step with some humans. I have to say, as the wind hit my face I felt relieved that that part of our journey was over. I was partly impressed with my kitten, that he had managed to figure this bus thing out, and part worried if he did this every day. We were lucky that he hadn’t been hurt by a human standing on him, or worse. I had found the bus ride very stressful, although that could have been down to the fact I was trying so hard to keep Pickles in line.

  ‘What now?’ Pickles asked. He was very excited, whereas I was worried now. We were far from home, and Pickles really shouldn’t be with me. George and I shouldn’t be this far from home, let alone the puppy.

  ‘Come on, we best not lose George now,’ I said, beckoning him. We followed George at a safe distance, and after a short while we came upon a large, modern building. I finally figured out where we were as the penny dropped. The vehicles parked outside were the same as the ones which had come to collect Harold when he was ill the first time. An ambulance. George had brought us to the hospital. And he seemed to think he worked here.

  Confused, I ran up to the door just as he walked through. It was an automatic door, so it opened and I strode through, although there were a few people around, no one seemed to notice either George or myself. The door shut and I saw Pickles standing on the other side. Desperate not to lose George, or Pickles, I stood close to the door which opened again.

  ‘Hurry up,’ I said.

  ‘Woof woof, woof,’ Pickles replied. I saw George stop, after all us cats have excellent hearing, much better than humans. He froze for a second, as the door closed again then turned around and saw us. I braced myself as he approached me; he did not look happy.

  ‘What on earth are you doing here?’ he hissed. Just then the door opened and some humans walked in, Pickles happily trotted in behind them.

  ‘Um, we thought we would come and see Harold?’ I tried.

  ‘No, no you didn’t. You followed me because you couldn’t trust me about my job and now you’re probably going to ruin everything,’ he carried, on, ushering us to a doorway where hopefully no one would see us.

  ‘Wo—’ Pickles started, wiggling his bottom excitedly.

  ‘No Pickles,’ I hissed. ‘We need to be really quiet.

  ‘George, I admit I needed to see where you’ve been going, I was worried sick. And I’ve been trying to follow you for a while but today was the first day I actually got it right, only I got it wrong because Pickles followed, and I am sorry but I just love you so much and need to know you’re safe.’

  ‘Look, you’ve got what you came here for, you know where I work. Yes I work in a hospital, yes Harold is here and my job is to make people happy and not just Harold. It’s really important to me and if you’ve ruined it, I will never forgive you.’

  I felt awful, I should have trusted him, but I also needed, as a parent, to know where he was going. If only he’d told me. No, actually if he told me he was doing this I would have still worried and had to follow him anyway.

  ‘George,’ I said, in my best parental authoritative voice. ‘I am your father and I do trust you but you have undertaken a very treacherous journey, and anything could have happened. I was worried sick about you, what if you’d been run over, or stepped on, or the bus driver caught you? Anything could have happened did you even think about that?’

  ‘None of that did happen though, did it? Look, Dad, I know you worry but I did this very carefully. The first time I came with Marcus.’

  ‘Marcus brought you?’ I asked with surprise.

  ‘Not exactly. I knew he was visiting Harold so I followed him, and I learnt the whole layout, then I started coming on my own, in the mornings mostly when I knew they didn’t have visitors.’

  ‘Why couldn’t you tell me all this?’

  ‘Harold said it had to be a secret or I wouldn’t be able to come anymore.’

  ‘I think he meant from humans. What now?’ I asked, as I noticed Pickles had become bored and restless.

  ‘You and Pickles go home and I’ll go and visit Harold.’

  ‘Um.’ I hadn’t quite thought through this part of my plan.

  ‘What?’ George asked.

  ‘I’m not sure how to get home. You see I was so busy watching you, and making sure Pickles was alright I didn’t pay that much attention to the route.’

  ‘OK, then how about you and Pickles wait here, stay hidden and I’ll go and visit my friends.’

  ‘Friends? I thought it was Harold.’

  ‘Dad, there are lots of lonely people on his ward who like to see me. That’s my job, I visit lonely people and cheer them up.’

  ‘Wow, I am so proud of you.’ I felt emotional.

  ‘Yes, but you’re stopping me from doing my job.’

  ‘Could we come and watch you, just this once?’ I asked.

  ‘No, absolutely not, there’s no way that I am going to let you come with me.’

  ‘OK.’ I resigned myself to stay hidden, and try to keep Pickles under control – goodness knows how I was going to do that. As George walked off, Pickles made a break for it and ran after him. I had no choice but to follow.

  George made his way to a back stairwell where we joined him.

  ‘What?’ he asked.

  ‘It was Pickles,’ I replied truthfully.

  ‘It really was,’ Pickles said. ‘I am trying to be a cat so I need to cheer people up too. After all this is important cat business.’

  I raised my whiskers at George, he had put the cat idea into Pickles’ head after all. George hid us round a corner until someone pushed the door open and came out from the stairwell, he hissed at us to be quick and thankfully we made it safely in just before the door closed.

  ‘There’s a lift,’ he explained, ‘but I can’t reach the buttons so this way I know exactly what floor to go to.’

  ‘You’ve really put a lot of work into this haven’t you?’ I said, impressed.

  ‘Of course, it’s my job as I try to keep telling you,’ he replied. ‘You don’t just sail into a job this important, you know, it takes a lot of thought and talent.’

  That told me. We walked up two flights of stairs, Pickles was huffing and puffing, the dog was really unfit – compared to us anyway. When we were on the right floor, according to George, there was a wedge keeping it open.

  ‘Harold arranged for whichever patient is allowed out of bed, to go for a little walk, and wedge this door open, he does it every day,’ George explained. ‘The first time I came along I got stuck here for ages waiting for someone to come through, so we don’t take any chances now.’

  He squeezed through the
door, and then looked at Pickles.

  ‘Dad, if you come through we can push it open further for Pickles.’ I was beginning to think my son was some kind of genius.

  It took a bit of effort but finally we were all through the door.

  ‘Right, this is the last bit,’ George told us. ‘The door is shut but people go in and out all the time, so what we must do is wait around the side, and as soon as the door opens we run for it. Whoever gets there first can hold the door open for Pickles,’ George said.

  ‘What if I get there first?’ Pickles asked. George just shook his tail. I wondered how long he would remain angry at me for.

  We huddled behind a pillar and, as George predicted, someone came through and opened the door. We were about to make a run for it, but when we turned around to tell Pickles to run, we saw him running faster than we’ve ever seen him in the opposite direction.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘Quick,’ George said, as we both sprinted as fast as we could after Pickles. He was about to enter another ward, as he chased behind a man pushing a child in a wheelchair. We caught up with him and just made it through another door before it banged aggressively behind us, I only just managed to whip my tail through in time. As we caught our breath, I looked around and saw that we were in a bright-coloured place. The man carried on pushing the chair, somehow Pickles had hitched a lift. I looked at George in horror. Pickles was sitting on the lap of the little girl in the wheelchair, but thankfully she had hidden him under her dressing gown so the man hadn’t noticed. She was smiling and we followed them until she was pushed to a bed. I had a bad feeling.

  ‘This must be the children’s ward,’ George said.

  So this was a hospital ward I thought, as I saw a row of beds with children and a few adults next to them. I looked at George.

  ‘This is not good is it?’ I asked.

  ‘No, Dad. If we get caught there will be a whole heap of trouble.’ And as if to prove the point, Pickles jumped down from the girl’s lap and started sliding around the floor.

  ‘Look, it’s a dog,’ one of the children shouted, as those who were able got out of bed and crowded around Pickles. The adults looked at each other uneasily. As did George and I who were trying to stay unnoticed behind a curtain.

  ‘Should he be here?’ one of them asked.

  ‘I don’t think so, shall I go and get the ward sister?’ another replied.

  ‘Can’t we play with him?’ the boy who was stroking him asked. ‘Please, he’s so cute.’

  ‘Woof,’ Pickles agreed.

  ‘We don’t know anything about him,’ the adult with him replied. ‘But he shouldn’t be here, I’m sure.’

  ‘Maybe he’s one of those dogs who can visit hospitals,’ another adult suggested. ‘I’ve read about them.’

  ‘Maybe, but shouldn’t he have an adult with him and be on a lead? What if he bites a child?’ the woman who said she would go and get sister asked, before she left the ward.

  ‘Oh no,’ I said. Yet again, I realised I should have taken Pickles home, I shouldn’t have come, I should have waited, I should have trusted George. So many things were going wrong and I had a bad feeling in my fur. This was not one of my finer plans. ‘If they catch him, what will they do?’

  ‘I don’t know but Harold says to me it’s imperative that I don’t get caught, which is why I keep it so quiet. He says there will be big trouble if I’m found out.’

  We were already in big trouble, that much was clear and we couldn’t get to Pickles without being seen. I wracked my brain for answers, but I couldn’t come up with a great deal of options.

  ‘Do you think we should stay hidden and wait and see what happens?’ I asked.

  ‘I don’t see we have much choice. Oh boy, Dad, why did you have to come with him today?’

  I asked myself the same thing.

  ‘Right what is going on,’ a voice boomed and a large woman who seemed almost like a giant compared to most of the children, and us of course, loomed. The children, who didn’t seem very happy to see her, parted and I could see her staring at Pickles, who was wagging his bottom at her excitedly. I wanted to rush in and save him but I didn’t know how. A shadow appeared on the floor as she reached out and picked him up. He licked her face.

  ‘Uggh, you dirty thing, you cannot be on a ward with ill children,’ she shrieked. Poor Pickles looked confused. After all everyone he encountered fell for his charm, so I did feel a bit bad for him. He tried to wriggle out of her arms as she tightened her grip. How would I ever make this up to George?

  ‘Has he got a collar on?’ one of the parents asked, but I knew he didn’t. Polly had said she’d had him chipped, but decided against a collar. Knowing Pickles he’d have only eaten it.

  ‘No, but then he’s probably chipped,’ another voice said, which was a relief.

  ‘Well I don’t have time for this. I’ll call the dog warden and they can deal with it,’ the woman said. I felt my heart sink. I didn’t know what a dog warden was but what if they took Pickles somewhere and we never saw him again? What if the dog warden was as mean as the woman who held a Pickles in her arms?

  ‘Dad, we have to do something,’ George hissed.

  ‘Right,’ I said, another plan leapt into my head. ‘We will have to follow that woman, with Pickles, and whatever we do we can’t let him out of our sight.’

  ‘Good idea,’ George said, and I began to feel a bit like the adult again. So far, George had proved himself mature and sensible. Perhaps he wasn’t technically supposed to come to the hospital but he was coming for the right reasons, and I had somehow messed that up for him, which didn’t make me the best father in the world. As well as getting Pickles out of here, I would have to put that right. It’s what parents did when we screwed up. After all, we were only cats at the end of the day.

  The woman marched out of the ward, leaving children crying in her wake but we couldn’t afford to dwell on that. George and I raised our whiskers at each other in understanding and followed her, ever careful not to be seen we dodged behind trolleys along the corridor. We watched her march into an office, and put Pickles down on a chair.

  ‘Stay there,’ she commanded. Even Pickles looked terrified of her, with her stern voice I couldn’t blame him, but Pickles was sitting stiller than I’d ever seen him.

  Thankfully, she hadn’t shut the door but we didn’t dare being seen yet. I poked my head around.

  ‘How on earth did you get into my ward?’ she asked.

  ‘Woof,’ Pickles replied.

  ‘Well I won’t have it. I run a tight ship and there is no room for dogs.’ She narrowed her eyes at him, and Pickles trembled.

  ‘Right.’ She typed something into the computer, and then picked up a phone. I could barely breathe as I watched it unfold. ‘Hello, yes I’m calling from the hospital, and there’s a dog running around here, totally out of control.’

  There was a pause.

  ‘I don’t know if he’s dangerous,’ she continued. I glanced at George, Pickles was possibly the least dangerous dog in the world.

  Another pause.

  ‘No, he’s not foaming at the mouth. Listen, I need someone to come up and get him out of the hospital. Out of the children’s ward.’

  Another pause.

  ‘Make sure you hurry, thank you.’

  The phone went dead.

  What was going to happen? They were on the way to get him and we had no way of getting him out of the room without being seen.

  ‘Sister, Sister, there’s a problem in bay three.’ A nurse came running in. Thankfully she didn’t notice as I tucked myself into the corner of the office. Sister looked the nurse, then at Pickles.

  ‘Stay,’ she commanded and ran out. She pulled the door shut behind her, but George managed to get his paw in before it closed totally. We were all back together, thankfully but that wasn’t necessarily the end of our problems as we had to figure out a way to get out of here.

  ‘Pickles,’ I hissed, ‘come with
me.’

  Pickles wiggled his bottom, but thankfully hopped off the chair.

  ‘This is so much fun,’ he said. I had no words. ‘Apart from the scary woman. I didn’t much like the scary woman.’

  ‘Look,’ George said as we began to make our way out of the ward and hopefully to safety, gesturing with his whiskers. ‘It’s a laundry cart, I’ve seen them before, they might take us to Harold’s ward if we’re lucky.’ He gestured with his paw to a big cart, which had high sides, there was no way Pickles could jump up to it. Perhaps Pickles might be able to fit in at the side?

  ‘Pickles, do exactly as I say,’ I commanded in my sternest voice.

  ‘I always do,’ Pickles replied. He really, really didn’t. We approached the cart. There was a man with one hand on it and he was talking to someone else. Thankfully he had his back to us.

  ‘Right,’ I said, holding open the slit with a paw, ‘jump in.’

  ‘Are you coming?’ Pickles asked.

  ‘I’m right behind you.’ Pickles started to climb in and, although his bottom got caught up a bit, I gave him a shove with my paw and he was in. I followed, as did George.

  ‘Yuk, it stinks,’ Pickles said. It wasn’t the most pleasant smell, but then it was a laundry cart. And thankfully it wasn’t too full. And this was his fault so if anyone had a right to complain …

  ‘It’s better than the dog warden,’ George hissed at him. He wasn’t delighted; we were still in big trouble with him.

  ‘Where are you going now?’ I heard a human voice say from outside the cart.

  ‘To Carpenter ward,’ he replied.

  ‘That’s Harold’s ward,’ George whispered, flooded with relief.

  ‘Pickles,’ I warned, ‘from now on you do exactly what we say and you follow us. No going off on your own or getting any bright ideas.’

  ‘OK.’ he replied. I didn’t feel full of confidence but surely the worst had happened and we’d escaped, so that should be alright and at least now we were going to see Harold. I just had to make everything else up to George, that was all.

  We were on the move. I felt the trolley being pushed forward. There was a bit of a shunt as we went through the door, but I motioned for Pickles to stay quiet. Another shunt told us we were through more doors and then the cart stopped.