Ten Things My Cat Hates About You

by Lottie Lucas

  “Crazy or stupid.” Trueman materialises beside me, helmet in hand. “I’m still trying to decide. He was after that damned cat of yours, you know.”

  “I was trying to rescue him,” Adam says stonily.

  Casper stops washing for a moment to send him a derogatory stare.

  “Some rescue attempt,” Trueman chortles. “The cat came down of its own accord, and we ended up having to rescue this one instead. He’d slid down the roof; luckily, he’d managed to grab onto the chimney or it would have been a different story. Apparently he doesn’t even like heights! Took three of us to persuade him to attempt the ladder. I thought we were going to have to winch him down at one point.”

  “I’m glad you find all of this so amusing,” Adam grinds out.

  “Oh, yes,” Trueman agrees jovially, the sarcasm apparently going straight over his head. “We enjoy stories like this at the station. Livens up the boring call-outs, it does. And the Christmas party too. There’s even a competition between the fire departments—”

  Adam looks like he’s about to explode.

  “Er … is that someone trying to get into the fire engine?” I say quickly, pretending to peer into the middle distance.

  Trueman snaps to attention like an overly officious Doberman.

  “What? Not this again. Bloody kids, I tell you … When I get my hands on them …”

  He stalks off, muttering a series of threats which seem to involve everything from strangling to boiling in oil.

  Finally, I’m alone with Adam. I think. I purposely wait a couple of seconds to make sure that no one else is going to appear before whirling upon him.

  “What are you really doing here? And don’t tell me that you were just passing, because I won’t believe you.”

  “I wasn’t. I came to see you.” His gaze meets mine, unwavering. “I’ve hated these past couple of weeks, Clara. Knowing that I couldn’t talk to you. It just felt so … wrong.”

  He looks so sincere that it nearly takes my breath away.

  He’s right; it has felt wrong. Like something’s missing. Something I never even knew was important until it was too late.

  I want to shake myself. I have to be strong; I won’t be swayed by a few words, however unexpectedly sweet they might be. I’m different these days, not so easily won. I fold my arms, tilt my chin.

  “If you’re here because of what Heather told you, then you’ve wasted your time. It doesn’t make any difference.”

  He just shakes his head. “It’s nothing to do with that.” There’s a pause, as though he’s gearing up to something. “I’ve spoken to my father. I thought you’d be interested to know.”

  I blink three times in quick succession, totally discombobulated by this unanticipated development.

  “Oh.”

  “You were right; I had no business casting judgement upon everyone else when I can’t even sort out my own problems.” He looks away, towards the house, where the firefighters are busy dismantling the ladder. “I told him that unless we could find a way to be civil, then we should both drop out of the race. That I wouldn’t allow what’s left of our relationship to be destroyed over this.”

  At last, I find my voice. It sounds scratchy, like it doesn’t belong to me. “And what did he say?”

  “Well, at first he blustered quite a bit. But eventually he calmed down and we had a good talk. Maybe the first proper one we’ve ever had,” he adds ruefully. “I think he finally understood that he could lose me for good, if things didn’t change. That had never occurred to him before.” He pulls the blanket tighter round his shoulders and in that moment he looks very young. I can almost see what he might have been like as a boy.

  “I would never have done it if it weren’t for you,” he says softly, glancing up at me. His eyes are a deep, fathomless blue. “In fact, there are lots of things I would never have done if it weren’t for you.”

  I swallow at the intensity in his gaze. I’m not ready to go there yet.

  “Gone into a crystal shop, for example?” I suggest breezily.

  “A fossil shop,” he corrects, although the corners of his lips are turning up. My heart thuds against my ribcage at the sight, and I curse myself for being so foolish.

  “Jumping into a river?” I supply, starting to smile myself at the memory.

  “And then having to dress like a teenager in borrowed clothes.” He pulls a face, as though that was the worst part of it by a mile.

  “Crashing your bike?”

  “Twice.” He sends me an arch look. “And, let’s not forget, climbing onto a roof after that demonic excuse for a cat.”

  We both look at Casper, who’s moved on to washing his back, twisted into a pretzel-like shape.

  “You could have been killed.” I feel the blood draining from my face as the reality of it hits me. Here we are, joking, when it could all have been … Actually, I don’t want to think about what could have happened. It’ll probably give me a nervous attack. “What were you thinking?”

  “I have no idea,” he says. Then a furrow appears between his brows. “Actually, that’s not true. I know exactly what I was thinking. I was thinking of how much the infernal beast means to you. I couldn’t bear the thought of how upset you’d be if anything happened to him.”

  Something flutters in my chest at that, but I wilfully ignore it. “So you thought it was worth the risk of breaking your own neck, did you?”

  He looks at me levelly. “Apparently I did.”

  I stare at him for a full five seconds. Then …

  “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” I burst out. “The most idiotic, illogical …”

  “Incongruous, if you’re striving for an alliterative trio?” he provides drily.

  “Agh!” I throw my hands up in the air, unable to articulate anything more sophisticated.

  “I’m afraid I haven’t been at my most logical lately.” His voice is matter-of-fact, as though he’s reciting something from a particularly dry reference book. “You see, it’s new to me, this feeling. All I can think about is making you happy; I don’t know when or how but, somewhere along the way, it’s become the most important thing to me. And that’s not logical; believe me, I’ve tried everything in my power to reason it out. But I can’t.” He runs a hand through his already disarrayed hair. “I’m sorry about the way I handled things. I was just trying to fix them the way I would with any problem, with cold rationality. It was well-meant, I promise you. Badly handled, but well-meant. I never meant to make you feel manipulated.” He scowls, looking annoyed with himself. “I’m no good at this. What I’m trying to say … Well, you already know. But I don’t expect anything from you, Clara. If you still feel the same as you did before … I can accept that.”

  Suddenly, my legs seem reluctant to support me, and I sit down next to him.

  Was that a declaration of love?

  I mean, it was from Professor Adam Warwick, so it wasn’t in your typical format. It was awkward, and oddly formal, and somehow he managed to make it sound as though the whole thing’s a major inconvenience, not to mention one that’s entirely my fault.

  And you know what?

  I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “What are you thinking?” He brushes a lock of hair away from my face. The skin on my cheek tingles, even though he hasn’t actually touched it.

  For a moment I don’t respond. After all, how do you put all of that into words?

  “I can be more romantic about it, if you like.” He pushes the blanket off his shoulders and slips down off the step and onto one knee. “Is this better?”

  “No!” Horrified, I grab his arms and try to pull him up, but he doesn’t budge. He reaches across and plucks a daisy from the grass verge, proffering it to me with a self-deprecating smile.

  “I’m sorry it’s not roses. And I’m sorry that I’ll never be any good at poetry. I’ll probably forget to tell you that you look nice, and I’m a terrible dancer. I hate the fact that your house is pi
nk, and I’ll probably never understand the appeal of a beetroot latte. But I promise that I will do my best, in my own stilted way, to show you that I love you. Every single day. Although you might have to give me a nudge every now and then,” he adds as an afterthought. “Especially if I’m engrossed in a new academic paper. I can get quite single-minded then.”

  Something’s blossoming in the middle of my chest, expanding so fast I can barely breathe. But it’s a good feeling. A wonderful feeling, like everything’s finally just as it should be.

  “I don’t care that it’s not roses,” I whisper. “They’re overrated anyway.”

  His face breaks out into a gloriously wide smile. He tucks the daisy behind my ear and stands, pulling me to my feet alongside him.

  “Wait.” For the first time, I notice that there’s something missing. “What happened to your jacket?”

  He looks pained. “It got caught between the roof tiles. They had to cut me out of it.”

  “Oh, no.” I try my best to feign disappointment.

  “There’s no need to look quite so pleased about it,” he grumbles.

  I fight back the urge to laugh.

  “I’ll buy you another one,” I promise solemnly. “Or, better still, I’ll have one made exactly the same. You’ll never know the difference.”

  Just then, a belligerent miaow emerges from the floor by our feet, and we both look down. Casper’s peering up at us with an interrogative expression.

  “Of course, there is another thing I didn’t mention,” Adam says quietly. “I’m afraid I’ll never win the approval of your cat.” He looks back at me, and his face is heartbreakingly serious. “Will you still have me?”

  Find someone who can actually win round that cat of yours … Suddenly, I’m right back in the café, having lunch with Heather. I can hear her words all over again, as clear as a bell. Except this time I finally understand what they meant.

  It was never actually about Casper’s opinion at all. Sure, he might have liked Josh, but so what? Josh never had to do a single thing to earn that adoration, whereas Adam … I think back to how he bought him the mouse as a peace offering, how he held out his hand that night after the fiasco at the museum. And now … I risk a glance up at the roof and try not to shudder. It’s going to take me a while to get over that.

  Adam kept trying. And he did it all … for me.

  He might have got a lot of things hopelessly wrong, but he’s still here, isn’t he? Still trying to make it right. My heart swells at the thought.

  And so, in answer to his question, I turn away, bending down to pick up Casper, holding him out at arm’s length.

  “You know how much I love you, don’t you?”

  Two green orbs stare back at me.

  “But this time,” I conclude gently, “I definitely know best.”

  He blinks. Just once, but I take it as a capitulation. After all, cats never blink. Well, almost never. I pull him against my chest in a hug and he nestles into me briefly before I deposit him back on the floor.

  Adam’s been standing there, silently watching.

  “What does he say?” he asks. I can tell he’s trying to sound casual, but I can see the trepidation in his eyes.

  “He says that I should kiss you.”

  Then I stretch up on my tiptoes and do just that.

  Chapter 35

  It takes another half an hour for the firefighters to pack up. I stand at the window, watching the engine pull away from the kerb and head off down the street, its blue lights slicing through the gathering dusk.

  “Have they gone?”

  Adam surveys me from across the room. The paramedic was right; he’s a terrible patient. He refused to go to bed; eventually, although under considerable protest, I’ve managed to install him on the sofa with a bag of frozen peas, a cup of tea and a packet of paracetamol. There are dark smudges under his eyes, and I’m pretty sure that he’s in more pain than he’s letting on, but I know better than to push it.

  “Yes.” I let the curtains fall back across the window, obscuring the outside world. Now, at last, it’s just us.

  Thank God for that.

  “Good. Then come here.” He holds out an arm and I go to him, curling against his side. He grimaces and I immediately pull back.

  “I could kill Casper for making you go up on that roof,” I fume.

  “You weren’t nearly so concerned about me when he knocked me off my bike that day,” Adam points out with a hint of teasing in his voice. “You ran straight to him. And there I was, stuck in a thorn bush …”

  I roll my eyes. It was not a thorn bush, as well he knows. And he accuses me of over-dramatising.

  “Well, a lot’s changed since then. Then, you were just a bad-tempered, rude stranger.”

  “And how about now?” He’s smiling, but his eyes glow with a deeper meaning.

  I pause, pretending to consider.

  “Well, you’re still bad-tempered and rude, that’s for certain.”

  “I fear I always will be.” He presses the peas against his temple. “Do you think you can accept that?”

  “I fear I’ll always be headstrong and hopelessly unreasonable,” I say softly. “Do you think you can accept that?”

  “Gladly. I think headstrong and unreasonable is just what I need.” He leans towards me. I reciprocate, winding my arms around his neck, but he looks so pained that I hesitate.

  “Sorry. Does that hurt?”

  “Everything hurts,” he says wryly. “But I’m not about to let that stop me from kissing you.”

  But, before our lips can touch, the front door bursts open and footsteps sound in the hall.

  “Was that fire engine coming from here?” Freddie skids into the room. He appears half worried, half thrilled at the prospect. His eyes widen when he sees Adam. “Whoa, what happened to you? You look awful.”

  “Good to see you too, Freddie.”

  Jess sails into the room, her hands cradling her growing bump. “I thought I heard … Oh …” She trails off as she sees us together.

  “Jess,” I say calmly, trying not to think too hard about the absurdity of the situation. “This is Adam.”

  “Ad … Oh, Adam!” Her face lights up with such visible rapture that I want to crawl into the back of the sofa and never come out again. “Of course. How lovely to meet you at last.”

  Adam just looks amused. “My reputation precedes me, then.”

  “Oh, yes.” She flaps a hand in front of her face as tears spring to her eyes. “Sorry. Pregnancy hormones. I’m just so happy that you and Clara … well …”

  Freddie steers her into the armchair with a comforting pat on the shoulder.

  I can’t even look at Adam. My face feels like it’s about to go up in flames. Why do my family have to be so ridiculous? Why can’t they be normal, just this once?

  Freddie plonks himself on the arm of the chair, looking at us expectantly.

  “So what was that fire engine doing here? Was it Casper again?”

  “Actually, it was me,” Adam supplies blandly.

  Freddie and Jess stare at him.

  “He climbed onto the roof,” I add, feeling like more explanation is required.

  “To save your cat,” he reminds me testily.

  “Who didn’t need saving anyway.”

  “Well, how was I to know that?”

  “You know, when you put it like that, there was something quite chivalrous about it all,” I say thoughtfully. I smile sweetly at him. “Perhaps there’s more of the romantic hero in you than you let on.”

  He sends me a droll look. “Curiously enough, that wasn’t what I was thinking of as I dangled perilously from your roof.”

  The cat flap rattles and Casper patters into the room. He looks around at us each in turn before hopping up onto the sofa, where, to my profound amazement, he settles onto Adam’s lap, curling into a tight ball of orange fur.

  “Oh, look, he likes you!” Jess beams. “That’s a good sign. He usually hates men
, you know …” She breaks off with a frown. “What’s wrong with all of you? Why are you looking like that?”

  “Oh, he knows all right,” Freddie manages faintly.

  “It must be a trick,” Adam mutters. He’s gone rigid, as though he daren’t move. “He’s going to needle me any moment.”

  But Casper just purrs innocently.

  “Maybe he’s changed his mind about you,” I suggest half-heartedly.

  Adam and Freddie look at me in palpable disbelief.

  And then another thought occurs to me. It’s so absurd that I almost don’t want to voice it. In the end, I lean in closer to Adam so that only he can hear.

  “Do you think …?” I’m blushing even as I say it. “I mean, is there a chance that he might have done all of this on purpose? To bring us together?”

  The look he gives is a familiar one. Exasperation mixed with incredulity, except this time there’s something else there too. Love, I realise with sudden, sparkling clarity. That’s what love looks like, reflected in another person’s eyes.

  “He’s just a cat, Clara.”

  “Of course he is,” I agree quickly. “You’re totally right.”

  And yet … as Casper opens one eye and looks at me, I can’t help but wonder all the same.

  The End

  Acknowledgements

  No book is an island, and whilst I may have been the one to put the words on the page, there are plenty of other people who helped to get this story out of my head and into your hands. First of all, thanks have to go to my wonderful editor Charlotte, both for seeing the potential in my writing and asking me to write a rom rom in the first place, and for the title, which I can’t take credit for. Also to all of the team at One More Chapter who’ve made this book what it is; I’ve loved working with all of you.

  Thank you to all at the RNA Belmont Belles; your enthusiasm and support for my work has been truly heartwarming. Thank you to my husband, Greg, for being a steady, if bemused, presence against the ups and downs of writing life. Thank goodness you passed the feline approval test on our very first date, or we might not be here now! Thank you to my family, for their endless patience in listening to me wrangle my way through various ridiculous scenarios, and to our cats past and present, who have provided essential inspiration for this book.