by Rachel Wells
‘Of course you weren’t,’ Snowball said, shooting me a glance which meant I would be in trouble later.
‘They were spying on you because they want to know if you are boyfriend and girlfriend,’ Pickles explained. That dog was as subtle as a sledgehammer, as he spilt all my sleuthing beans.
‘Why didn’t you just ask?’ George said.
‘That’s what I said.’ Pickles sounded pleased with himself.
‘I did, I’ve been asking you ever since we came back from holiday. I even tried to see for myself but I fell in a bush …’ Oops, I shouldn’t have said that.
‘I am fed up of you invading my privacy,’ George stormed. But then Hana laughed and Snowball laughed.
‘Oh George, don’t be cross. Firstly it’s nearly Christmas, and secondly, at least you have a dad who loves you,’ Hana said. ‘Put him out of his misery.’
‘Yes, put me out of my misery,’ I reiterated. ‘Please.’
‘OK. I love Hana, but we’re young and we don’t want to rush anything. So yes, she is my girlfriend but we’re taking it slowly.’
‘We’re being sensible, like Aleksy and Connie,’ Hana explained. ‘We’re young and we have plenty of lives left in us.’
‘Oh boy, I couldn’t love the both of you anymore,’ I said, leaping on the bed and nuzzling them both.
‘Ahh, get off,’ George said, but he was grinning.
‘What about me?’ We all laughed as Pickles jumped up onto the bed with us and licked us all.
Downstairs everyone was chatty. Food was eaten, we were given a few treats. Sylvie was smiling but in that way when someone is putting on a brave face and I knew she was going to miss Connie.
‘So are you excited about Japan?’ Matt asked her. She shot a worried look at her mum who just smiled.
‘I am, I’m nervous about flying on my own. It’s a long flight.’
‘But they’re going to take good care of you, I’ve made sure of that,’ Sylvie reassured. ‘And think you can watch whatever films you want without me telling you they’re not appropriate.’ She laughed a little and I was so proud of her.
‘We’ll all miss you,’ Claire said. ‘But imagine it will be such an adventure. And you can tell us everything when you get back.’
‘I want to go to Japan,’ Summer shouted.
‘Do you know where Japan is?’ Jonathan asked.
‘No, but I want to go anyway.’
‘Room in your suitcase, Connie?’ Jonathan said, and everyone laughed.
‘I couldn’t be doing with it myself. All that flying in a big tin can, people everywhere and then all that funny food,’ Harold said.
‘Harold, I grew up there, the food is normal to me,’ Connie pointed out.
‘That might as well be, if I was you I’d pack some bread, and some tea, in case you need to be reminded of home. I’ll miss you, lass,’ he said, softly. Connie ran and threw her arms around him.
‘And I’ll miss you too, Grandpa.’
‘Grandpa?’ Harold had actual tears in his eyes.
‘You a bit emotional, Dad?’ Marcus asked.
‘Not at all just allergic to dust.’
We all knew there wasn’t a spec of dust in Sylvie’s house.
Aleksy and Connie went to the garden, and I followed them, but tried not to be obvious. I had asked Snowball to keep Pickles busy and she was, bless her, watching him chasing his tail, and asking him to do it again so she could do so. I wasn’t sure if she would get bored first or Pickles so dizzy he’d fall over.
‘I wanted to give you my Christmas present before you went,’ Aleksy said, shyly. His cheeks were red as he handed over a bag.
‘Oh Aleksy, I was going to give yours to your mum so it would be under your tree on Christmas morning.’
‘And I’d love that but I wanted you to have this. We put a lot of thought into it,’ he mumbled, looking at his trainers.
‘Who’s we?’
‘I mean me, of course. Go on, open it.’
Connie pulled out a book, then a charm which Aleksy said was a St Christopher for keeping her safe on her travels. I have to admit I felt a little emotional. Then she pulled out a box. As she opened it she gasped. I shuffled nearer, so I could see. It was a silver chain with a letter ‘C’ attached.
‘It’s the most thoughtful gifts I’ve ever received, Aleksy, thank you.’ She put the necklace on and kissed him. I knew I shouldn’t be watching but hey, Aleksy was one of my first protégés, and my boy had done well. I was proud of him.
‘I love you, Connie and I want you to have a lovely Christmas. But don’t forget about me,’ he said.
‘Don’t be silly, as if I could ever forget about you. And I’ll bring you back something cool from Japan.’ She paused. ‘Make sure my mum’s OK won’t you? I know she’s got Marcus and the baby bump but we’ve never been apart at Christmas before.’
‘I will, I’ll take care of her too. We all will, and when you come back we’ll all be together again and soon the new baby. We could be the babysitters for them.’
‘I’d like that, thanks Aleksy.’
My heart was fit to burst.
Everyone burst into the back garden.
‘Are we interrupting?’ Polly asked.
‘No,’ Aleksy said. Connie blushed.
‘We just thought that it would be nice to have a photo, you know all of us, the whole family.’
We were organised, the humans gathered us up in their arms – Pickles by Henry, Toby insisted on holding George, Snowball sat on Harold’s lap, he’d been placed on a garden chair and Claire had me in her arms. Hana of course was with Connie. Marcus set up a tripod and a camera which he put on a timer.
‘Say “cheese”,’ he said.
‘Cheese,’ everyone said.
At the mention of his favourite food, Pickles jumped out of Toby’s arms and landed on Snowball, who was on Harold, Snowball squealed and then jumped, but was luckily caught by Sylvie. Everyone turned their heads just as the camera went off.
‘Perhaps next time we should say a non-food related item,’ Polly suggested.
That night, Snowball, George, Hana – who had decided she would brave the cold to hang out – and I sat in our back garden.
‘It’s been eventful again, hasn’t it?’ I said.
‘It’s been such a crazy time for me,’ Snowball said.
‘We are happy and sad, aren’t we?’ Hana pointed out. ‘That seems to be how life works. We get happy, we get sad, and so on.’
‘You’re very smart, Hana,’ George said. ‘Almost as smart as me.’
Snowball and I tried very hard not to look at each other.
‘But look at us, we have each other,’ I said. ‘And we have so many people we love around us.’
‘Too many sometimes,’ George said.
‘No, son,’ I replied. ‘There will never be too many, because our hearts are so big we can love and love.’
‘And that’s what life should be about,’ Snowball finished. We all watched the stars through the black sky in silence and I knew that at that moment we were all thinking about how lucky we were.
Chapter Thirty-Two
‘So you want us to have an old person?’ Vic Goodwin, Salmon’s owner and the self-appointed head of the Edgar Road neighbourhood watch – along with his wife Heather, asked.
‘Not exactly,’ Claire replied. We had gathered some of our neighbours and friends in our living room. The Goodwins, Tiger’s, or should I say Oliver’s family, the Barkers, my main family and a family who lived next door to Harold that I wasn’t familiar with. Harold had bravely invited them to come, although Claire was with him, as was Snowball. The children were all upstairs being looked after by Aleksy, Connie and Tommy.
‘It was George’s idea,’ Polly said, with a giggle. I raised my whiskers. They weren’t helping matters at all. I nudged George and told him to nudge Harold.
‘You mean to tell me this was a cat’s idea?’ Heather Goodwin asked. The new couple, Carol and S
teve, looked incredibly confused. The fact they hadn’t run for the door was surprising, although in fairness, Tomasz, who was a big man, was pretty much stretched across it. We were all trapped.
‘Oh dear Lord,’ Jonathan said, rolling his eyes and glancing over at Matt who seemed to be finding it all terribly amusing.
George nudged Harold. He blushed, but cleared his voice.
‘George inspired me,’ he said. ‘I know most of you know about my hospital time, and the fact that before my son and I sorted out a few differences last year I was on my own a lot.’ Marcus went over and patted his dad on the shoulder. ‘I’ve seen a lot of loneliness lately and I’m not happy about it,’ Harold continued.
‘It’s a crying shame,’ Mrs Barker said. ‘No one should be lonely.’ She had a tear in her eye. I went to rub against her leg and she looked at me gratefully.
‘It is, and once a week I go to the senior centre which is a lifeline for us oldies, not so much for me because I am well looked after, but some there don’t have anyone else. And in hospital some of the patients didn’t have any visitors at all. So, Claire and I are going to go in once a week and see people, take them a cake, a smile, a newspaper and have a chat. It’s like George did when I was in hospital.’ Harold was on his best behaviour. He was also wearing his best suit because he told George he wanted everyone to take him seriously.
‘I am so confused,’ Steve said, glancing at the door.
‘Never mind,’ Tomasz told him, ‘in about an hour it might all become clear. If not, there’s lots of beer in the fridge.’ This made him look even more confused, so Jonathan went to the kitchen and returned with a bottle for him.
‘You see,’ Matt said, deciding to take control a bit. ‘Harold made a list of people who really are struggling with loneliness. Do you want to carry on explaining?’ Matt said, as he got him back on track.
‘Claire and I thought we’d launch a Sunday Lunch Club. We’d ask you, and perhaps you can ask your friends, if they would be able to host someone for lunch once or twice a month. At least they’ll have somewhere to go, something to look forward to and a home-cooked meal, because some of them don’t even have that,’ Harold explained.
‘I can’t bear it, it’s so sad,’ Polly said.
‘Right does that make sense?’ Jonathan asked. He hated how these meetings could drag on and I know he was keen to sit down in front of the TV.
‘What has it got to do with the hospital?’ Vic asked.
‘Nothing really, but that was where the idea originated. As Harold said, he and I will be doing some hospital visiting, but really we’re looking for ten families at first to host Sunday lunch. What we can do is match you up with someone who is on their own, but you’d have to go and collect them and drive them home after as well,’ Claire explained.
‘So we do get an old person?’ Vic asked, for the second time. I raised my whiskers, he was no spring kitten himself.
‘Yes, you do. Now who is in?’ Jonathan asked with a sigh.
‘Of course,’ Mr Barker said. ‘We’d be happy, we don’t go far ourselves most weekends, and we always have a nice Sunday roast, so we could easily have someone every week if they like.’
‘We couldn’t do every week,’ Steve said. ‘We go and see our kids you see, they live the other side of London, but definitely once a month to start with, then maybe more.’
‘We’re in,’ Franceska said.
‘I don’t have a choice,’ Jonathan mumbled but he winked to show he was joking.
When everyone in the room agreed to be a part of it, they also started suggesting other people who may help out too.
‘I know, I shall make a spreadsheet,’ Vic said.
‘What’s that?’ Harold looked terrified.
‘Come to mine, and I’ll show you, we can make a spreadsheet of families who can host and then match them with people who need company, highly technical and very efficient,’ Vic said, sounding efficient.
‘Sounds perfect, Vic,’ Claire said, giving his shoulder a pat.
We knew, as they carried on chatting, that we’d done it. If Vic and his spreadsheet were involved then it was now a reality. The Goodwins might be busybodies but their hearts were in the right places. I was very fond of them now, deep down.
I felt emotional as George and I went to see what the children were up to. We found them all in Summer’s room, and Pickles dressed up as a ballerina. It wasn’t pretty.
‘What is going on?’ I asked.
‘I’m a girl. I like being a girl. I think I might be a girl rather than a cat from now on,’ Pickles said, twirling inelegantly around.
Oh boy, I thought, but we couldn’t help but grin.
Later that night when everyone had left, I led George out into the garden. It was time for a dad to kitten chat. I felt nervous but determined. There was really just one piece of the puzzle left.
‘George, you know that Snowball is here to stay, now?’
‘Oh yes, Harold loves her. And although she’s still missing her family, she seems to be settling in quite well too. Dad, I’m sorry I was so mean when she first came, but you know, with your history I felt as if she was going to replace Tiger.’
‘No one can ever replace Tiger, George, you really need to understand that,’ I said, fiercely, looking at the dark night and hoping to see the brightest star, which was always her.
‘I know that now but you know I really like Snowball. She’s very cool and funny, and sometimes I feel guilty about how much I like her, because of my mum.’
‘But she would want you to like Snowball. Tiger was the best of cats, she wouldn’t want you not to be friends with Snowball because of her.’
‘I know that, but it’s not always rational, feelings I mean.’
‘No, they certainly aren’t. But, George, you know I loved Snowball very much before and in my heart she isn’t replacing Tiger, but I have to tell you that I still love her.’ I held my breath as I waited for his response.
‘I know, I can see it. I’m not silly like Pickles you know.’
‘How do you feel about that?’
‘I feel the same as I feel about my friendship with Snowball. I feel that it’s right, and good, but I also sometimes worry that wherever Tiger mum is she’ll think we’ve forgotten her.’
‘I know, I feel that too. But we will never forget her, the two of us will keep her memory alive, along with our other friends. But you know without Tiger I’ve been a bit lonely. Not in the way that Harold’s friends are, who don’t have anyone, but just you know in that way.’
‘That bit of your heart way, you mean?’
‘Exactly that. When did you get so wise?’ I laughed.
‘I had the best parents to teach me,’ George said and we nuzzled.
‘So I have your blessing, with Snowball I mean?’I asked.
‘Yes, you do. I might find it hard, I can’t pretend otherwise, but I want you to be happy and I think that’s what Tiger would have wanted too.’ Just then we looked up and saw the brightest star in the sky and it seemed to be winking at us. We blinked back.
Chapter Thirty-Three
‘It’s the most wonderful time of the year,’ George said, in his sing-song voice. He was incredibly excited because it was Christmas Day. Our favourite day.
‘It is son. Happy Christmas.’ We nuzzled.
It was early, of course, because our children woke at the crack of dawn, or so it seemed, to see if Santa had been. He had. As George and I watched them open presents, squealing excitedly about what they’d got, we felt warm and fuzzy. This was family at its best and it was also the scene that made it absolutely crystal clear how lucky we all were. We had so much, and it also made me spare a thought for those who didn’t have as much, or anything close. We had to remember Christmas was about giving, receiving, and also being mindful of everyone else. What saddened me about the world sometimes is how people don’t value people enough, or cats for that matter. Anyway, enough of my sad thoughts, because no one should b
e miserable on Christmas Day.
The run-up had been hectic, as it always is, although in a different way this year. Harold’s Sunday Lunch Club was up and running, although it was very early days, and today we had five people dining with us who would otherwise be on their own for Christmas. And not only that, there would be no turkey for them if they didn’t join us. I, for one, found that unimaginable because that was my favourite thing about Christmas. George also quite liked Brussels sprouts but I didn’t quite understand that.
The Goodwins and the Barkers were having Christmas Day together, and they had invited three other people, which was kind of them. In the new year, the regular Sunday lunches would start properly, and Harold was very proud of himself. As was I. And of George, who inspired this whole thing. Claire was working with the Goodwins as well, to try to get more people involved. They were starting with Edgar Road, because it is a very long road, they felt they should be able to get many people to sign up. With the combined forces, I couldn’t see how it would fail. Claire had the charm, Vic would talk until people agreed to anything and Heather never took no for an answer. We all had high hopes.
There had been the usual pre-Christmas fun of course. The nativity play which Toby, Henry, Summer and Martha were all in. It was pretty uneventful compared to last year when we put George in the manger as baby Jesus. People are still talking about that, and oh how I’d enjoyed it but we were absolutely banned from going this year. Claire even locked the cat/dog flap, she wasn’t taking any chances as we were trapped in the house.
The Christmas tree had also managed to survive relatively unscathed, as George didn’t climb it this year. He said he had grown out of that, but the same couldn’t be said for Matt and Polly’s because George taught Pickles to try to climb it instead. Pickles had gone back to trying to be a cat having abandoned trying to be a girl, and George showed that despite his maturity and his discovery of his purpose in life he could still be naughty. It didn’t end well. Polly was furious as decorations scattered, the tree almost landed on Pickles, who thankfully escaped unhurt. We were all cross with George and even he realised he’d pushed it too far. He promised to act as a more responsible older cousin to Pickles but I wasn’t holding out much hope on that. Thankfully Polly had the sense to ban putting presents around the tree, in case Pickles ate them and we had adopted that policy at our house as well.