‘OK, but what about when the hostel tells Daniel that no one turned up,’ I said. ‘Don’t forget, he settles the accounts.’
‘OK. So here’s the plan. We check in to the hostel. We go to our rooms, we leave our rooms, go to the nice hotel, have a decent meal and a good night’s sleep. We go back the next morning. Hand in our keys. They’ll never know.’ She had such a mischievous look on her face. ‘Come on, Dee. Bunk off with us.’
‘I …’ I had my doubts but didn’t want to be the killjoy.
‘I totally agree with Fleur on this one. Choice. I do like to have one where I can. I think we should go to the good hotel, and you do know how I like a decent pillow, Dee.’ She smiled at me as she said the part about the pillow.
‘I do … OK. I’m in.’ Actually it felt good and slightly wicked to be defying Mum’s agenda, as if we were teenagers again.
While Fleur made the hotel booking, I turned to Rose. ‘Er … how are you getting on with Daniel now?’
‘Daniel? Fine. Why?’
‘Oh, just I observed that you’d softened towards him.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Offering him coffee? Breakfast?’
‘Just being polite, kind, that is what Mum asked this weekend. Mum appointed him to do this, so he must have some merits. He’s OK. He’s getting the job done.’
‘What about you, Fleur?’ I asked when she’d finished her call.
‘What about me?’
‘How are you getting on with Daniel these days?’
She shrugged and looked away. ‘Don’t really think about it. He’s not on my radar. Why? Has anything happened between you?’
‘No. No. And I won’t, I mean …’
‘But you do still like him?’
‘Sure, though I wish you’d stop asking me about him every time we meet up.’
‘You started it,’ said Rose, ‘just now, asking us.’
‘I … He’s … as you said, OK. This is getting boring.’
Fleur studied me for a moment and I prayed that I wasn’t blushing. ‘Just tread carefully with him,’ she said.
‘Why would you say that? And what was it you wouldn’t say before? In front of him?’
She tapped her nose. ‘Oh that. You and him … but you just told me to drop it.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Fleur, just tell me what you wanted to say.’ I hated it when she’d announce she had a secret when we were little then refuse to tell us. Drove me mad.
‘I wanted to say tread carefully, that’s all,’ said Fleur. ‘My man antennae tells me that yeah, he’s a nice guy and all that, but … I don’t think he’s the settling-down type and I reckon you’d want more from him than he would be prepared to give. He strikes me as a loner, the kind of man who values his freedom. But I don’t want to start an argument again.’
‘It was you who went off sulking last time,’ I reminded her. ‘And anyway, how would you know what he’s like? Have you ever talked to him properly?’
‘I know his type,’ said Fleur.
‘I have to agree,’ said Rose. ‘His kind aren’t for settling.’
‘How can either of you say that? You’ve only met him four times and only for a short while, and Fleur, with your history of men, you can’t say you can trust your antennae.’
‘That’s exactly why I can, and my gut says Daniel is not a man for committed relationships. And anyway, why are you getting worked up when nothing has even happened between you?’
‘I’m not getting worked up!’ I protested, though I could feel that I was. ‘And who says I want to settle? Anyway, nothing’s going on, so this is all hypothetical.’ But they’d got me thinking. In all the time we’d been together, Daniel and I had never talked about a future or the possibility of us living together at any point. Maybe Rose and Fleur were right. Maybe I’d been so delirious about finding him, enjoying our time, the good sex, that I’d missed the signals. He hadn’t exactly made any promises.
*
The animal centre was about a mile out of town, a series of low buildings in the middle of open fields. Fleur huffed and puffed her objections all the way, while Rose looked sullen but resigned. I was looking forward to the day. As Mum had said, it would be something different, and I liked animals. I had often thought that when I retired, I would volunteer to work with them.
We got out of the car to hear a cacophony of dogs barking.
Rose shuddered, ‘Mum knew I’m not a great animal lover.’
‘Me neither,’ said Fleur. ‘It’s OK for you Dee, you love cats.’
A frizzy-haired young woman in navy overalls and rubber boots came out to meet us. Her badge told us that she was called Sandra.
‘We’re really so grateful,’ she said as she led us to an office at the back of the reception. ‘Extra pairs of hands are always so welcome. Clothes have been sent for you so you can get changed in here, then I’ll show you what to do.’
We did as we were told. Once dressed in what looked like prison overalls, Sandra led us to the area where the animals were kept. At the cattery, she stopped and pointed to a long drain that lined the side of the building.
‘We’ve an inspection due shortly, so what would be most useful would be if you’d clear out the drains for us,’ she said. ‘I don’t think it’s been done for over a year. I’ll get you buckets, plastic bags and a hose. Sorry it’s a bit of an ucky job, but we’re short staffed at the moment, and everyone else is busy inside admitting new arrivals. We’ve had seven new cats come in today, so have to get the cat pods ready for them, and three are going to new homes so we’re rushed off our feet.’
‘This has to be a joke,’ said Fleur when Sandra had gone in search of our cleaning stuff. ‘Do you honestly think Mum intended us to clean out drains?’
‘First time for everything, Fleur,’ I said.
‘Believe me, it will be.’
Sandra came back with our equipment, demonstrated how the drain lid was divided into easy-to-lift-off sections, and reluctantly Fleur and I got on our knees and plunged elbow-deep into the gunge. Rose crawled along taking off the lids in front, while Fleur and I edged along after her emptying gloop into bin bags. The stench was overwhelming. Sandra was right. The drains hadn’t been done for over a year and were oozing with the most disgusting slime.
It began to rain, a soft drizzle.
Fleur knelt back on her feet. ‘I feel like I’ve landed in a scene from Orange Is the New Black. A prison sentence but no crime.’
Rose looked like she was going to be sick. ‘And this is supposed to make us happy, how?’ she said as she also knelt back and watched me immerse a rubber-gloved hand in the drain and scoop out a handful of gunk.
She stood up and looked up at the sky. ’Seriously Mum?’ She took off her gloves and threw them on the ground. ‘You two can stay, but not me. One thing I know, and that is, life is too short for this.’
‘Are you OK, Rose?’ I asked.
She looked very pale, as if she might faint. ‘No. No, I’m not OK. I feel sick. That smell is foul, and God knows what bacteria is lurking in that stuff. What if I … I mean we … pick something up? Sorry, Mum. I’ve done the rest of what you asked but this is too much.’
‘What are you going to do?’ asked Fleur.
Rose supported herself against the wall. ‘Go to that hotel of yours, Fleur. Have a peppermint tea and chill out. Either of you coming?’
‘No. I’m staying,’ I said. ‘But are you OK? Do you need anyone to come with you?’
Fleur looked torn.
‘What do we tell Mr Richardson and Daniel if you both go?’ I said. ‘Changing hotel I reckon we can get away with, but not if we don’t do this. Please stay, Fleur. We can cover for Rose.’
‘Oh for God’s sake,’ said Rose. ‘Stuff them. I’m sure allowances can be made if one of us is off colour.’
‘OK, you go Rose,’ said Fleur, ‘you really do look peaky. We’ll explain.’
‘Yes, go. I’m sure Mum wouldn’t w
ant you to do this if you’re not well.’
Ten minutes later, we saw Rose drive off in a taxi, leaving Fleur and me to carry on. I was surprised that Fleur had stayed. I would have expected her to quit before Rose, but she continued, on her knees, slopping out.
‘What was that word Mum said we had to experience?’ she asked.
‘The numinous.’
Fleur sat back and put her face up to the rain. ‘That was it. An experience of elation? Of joy?’
I glanced at the plastic bag full of slime and laughed. ‘I know. What on earth were they thinking? I’d have thought they’d have sent us to a cathedral or a National Trust garden if they’d wanted us to have experiences to make our souls soar.’
‘Or a beach by the sea; somewhere in nature. But maybe they didn’t realize we were going to be asked to clean out drains?’
‘It is a horrible job, but when you think what the inheritance is going to be, it’s actually a very well-paid job.’
‘If Rose leaving doesn’t disqualify us,’ said Fleur.
‘Anyone could see that she wasn’t faking it. It’ll be OK, but she wouldn’t last five minutes on I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here.’
‘Me neither. I suppose we can be grateful for small mercies. At least we haven’t been asked to eat a kangaroo’s testicles.’
‘The day’s not over yet.’
*
Half an hour later, we were still only a quarter of the way along, my knees killing me, when we saw a taxi returning to the centre. Rose got out, paid the driver and came striding towards us.
She was carrying two brooms with stiff bristles and a carrier bag with facemasks. She looked a lot brighter. ‘OK. Sorry about earlier. I’m back. I was heading for the hotel when I passed a hardware shop, so got us some proper equipment. But I can’t kneel down and put my face anywhere near that stuff or I’ll want to throw up again. So let’s get a system going. Fleur, you go along and lift off the lids with the end of one broom, flick it up, that way you won’t do your back in, and Dee, you can use the brush to sweep along the drain and get the goo into piles. Conserve energy.’
I stood up and saluted her. ‘Yes sir.’ This wasn’t a time to object to Rose taking control. Her plan made sense. I took a brush and started sweeping along the drain. It was easy-peasy. ‘You feeling better, Rose? You don’t have to do this at all, you know.’
‘Marginally better, thanks. You know me. I don’t like to give in so easily, but if you don’t mind, I’ll delegate on the actual gloop scooping.’
‘Absolutely. Glad to have you back.’
*
An hour later, the drains were empty, hosed and washed down with disinfectant. Job done. Even Rose looked pleased by what we’d accomplished.
‘Do you think we can go now?’ asked Fleur.
But no. Sandra reappeared, inspected our work and gave us the thumbs-up. ‘Good idea, using brooms. I wish I’d thought of that. OK. Job number two. Clean all the cat pods of cobwebs. I’ll get you some dusters.’
‘You going to be OK to do this?’ I asked Rose as we followed Sandra inside.
She nodded. ‘I’ll see how I go.’ She was starting to look off colour again.
‘OK,’ I said, ‘but feel free to leave if you want to.’
Sandra led us to a long corridor that was lined on both sides with raised cat kennels. Each kennel housed a cat and had a cat flap that led to a small outside caged area that looked out through mesh on to the rest of the centre. ‘If you look on the side of the kennel, they are all colour coded,’ said Sandra. ‘Green means friendly, purple for nervous, yellow for mainly friendly but don’t touch, red means the cat might go for you.’
I peered into the kennels. In each one, a furry face looked back out at us: black, tabby, white, ginger. Some of them looked so worried, and my heart went out to them. I knew how much cats liked to roam freely, and hated to think of one of mine in here, even if they were fed, safe and warm.
Sandra handed us a set of keys each for the kennels and feather dusters. She pointed at the ceilings in the outside enclosures. ‘Those are the bits that need dusting. I hope none of you are worried by spiders.’
This time it was Fleur who went white. ‘Yes, me. I hate spiders.’
‘Use your face mask,’ said Rose, and handed her one from her carrier bag. ‘They can’t hurt you.’
‘I’ll do it,’ I said, as soon as Sandra had left us alone. ‘Just look busy if anyone looks in.’ I didn’t want to risk Fleur doing a bunk as well, and Rose was complaining of feeling dizzy, so I found her a stool and told her to sit. For the next hour, I cleaned and dusted with gusto, while Fleur wandered up and down the corridor looking in on various cats and reading the records on the side of their kennel. I didn’t mind as long as my sisters stayed, and luckily the staff were busy in the outer rooms and no one came to check on us.
Once I’d finished the dusting, Sandra reappeared with our last task. ‘If you could spend the rest of your time with the cats, that would be great,’ she said. ‘Just be careful of the ones with red stickers. Pull up a stool, open the kennel and give them a bit of attention. Talk to them. Most of them are desperate for some contact and it helps if they have some human company every day at least.’
‘And now I feel like I’m in frigging Dr Doolittle,’ said Fleur once Sandra had disappeared again. ‘Talk to the animals? What are we supposed to do with them?’
‘Just give them some love,’ I said. I walked up and down the corridor, looking in at all the faces staring back at me. Some looked so sad, others anxious, others bored, some asleep; others were pawing at the front of the kennel, desperate to get out.
Fleur had a wicked look on her face. ‘Let’s open all the pods and let them make a run for it. Like the Pied Piper, only with cats. Only joking, Dee. No need to look so horrified.’
‘It says on the side if they’ve got a home already or not,’ said Rose as she stopped at a kennel. ‘Look, it tells you how old they are and how long they’ve been here.’ She opened a kennel and an old ginger tom came forward and gently head-butted her hand. She looked at his chart. ‘Clifford,’ she said. ‘Fourteen years old. His owner died so he had to be brought here.’ She pulled out the stool from under the kennel and sat down and gave him a stroke. He was soon purring like an old bus.
I found a black and white cat called Bonnie and sat talking to her for a while. Fleur still seemed unsure and hovered behind me.
‘What’s one supposed to say to a cat? What language should I use?’
‘Anything,’ I told her. ‘Just chat.’
‘Chat? To a cat? What about? Politics?’
‘Try the weather.’
‘Seriously?’
‘No, not seriously, Fleur, just chat. The human voice can be comforting.’ I turned back to Bonnie. ‘Hello puss, and how long have you been in here? I know, it’s not nice, is it? But a beautiful girl like you will soon get picked so it won’t be for long. You’ll get a home and can run around again.’ Bonnie curled on her side, purring and pawing the air.
Fleur watched me as I talked to Bonnie. Finally, she pulled out a stool and opened the kennel door to an adorable grey kitten. ‘Well hello there, puss,’ she said. ‘I’m Fleur. I know I haven’t got any fur, well, not any more, I have it all waxed off. I suppose that’s pretty strange to you. Can’t imagine you’d want to be waxed but maybe you could be a trendsetter. I can recommend a very good lady in Sloane Street.’
Hearing her chatting nonsense gave me the giggles.
‘What’s so funny?’ she asked.
‘You.’
‘Don’t be so rude. Me and Monty here are getting along just fine.’ She turned back to the cat. ‘Now then Monty, tell me all about yourself, how come you ended up in here?’
I watched the kitten approach Fleur, meow and gently head-butt her, then he nuzzled her neck. Fleur laughed with delight. ‘OK. Major flirt here. Back off, kitty. I’m bad news. You don’t want to get involved with me. I don’t do commitment – or ca
t-mitment.’
*
When it was time to go, we’d visited most of the cats that were approachable and Fleur was almost in tears. ‘But what will happen to Monty?’ she asked Sandra.
‘Don’t worry about him. He has a reserve on him already,’ she replied. ‘The turnaround on the cats is pretty quick, particularly the pretty or friendly ones like him. We have people coming up every day looking for pets.’
‘What about the ones with red stickers?’ asked Rose.
‘Yes, they can take a bit longer.’
‘And the old ones?’ I asked. I’d noticed a number of scrawny old cats that couldn’t have much longer to live, including Clifford. It made me sad to think that they would end their days in such a restricted place, surrounded by strange cats.
‘Sometimes they get the sympathy vote,’ said Sandra. ‘We do have some wonderful people who take them, especially because they know that they’re old. Real cat lovers.’
‘And the difficult, not-so-friendly ones?’ asked Rose.
‘Ah well, they can take time to rehome,’ Sandra replied. ‘But we have a no put-down policy. Some of them just take longer, that’s all.’
‘What about Clifford?’ asked Rose. ‘Has he got a home to go to?’
‘He’s a friendly old fellow but, sadly, no takers as yet. He’s been in about six months.’
‘Six months? Shame,’ said Rose. ‘He’s a sweetie.’
Fleur and I did a double-take.
‘That’s not like Rose. The fumes have gone to her brain,’ said Fleur as we left.
*
In the car going back to the lodge, I noticed that Rose still looked pale. We were all tired.
‘We made a good team today,’ I said.
‘We did, but I’d still prefer to send them a donation and help out that way rather than clean drains,’ said Fleur. ‘That wee Monty, though – I think I might have had him if he hadn’t already found a home.’
‘See, you do have a heart, Fleur,’ I said.
‘I do. I might even get a pet. Less complicated than men.’
‘And they love you unconditionally,’ I said.
Fleur laughed. ‘One mad old cat lady is enough in the family,’ she said, but her tone was affectionate, not barbed as it had been when she’d voiced something similar at the beginning of the process.
The Kicking the Bucket List Page 21