A Cat Called Alfie

by Rachel Wells

Claire made a pot of coffee and as they settled round the kitchen table, I manoeuvred myself to sit at Polly’s feet, casually brushing my tail against her legs.

  ‘I’m not sure I should be drinking coffee,’ Claire said, taking a sip.

  ‘Are you?’ Polly asked.

  ‘No, I’m not pregnant but I am ovulating.’

  ‘Take my advice, hon, just try to relax. I was drinking more than just coffee when I got pregnant with both of mine. Don’t put pressure on it, don’t make it too much of a thing.’ Polly looked concerned, so I rubbed against her legs.

  ‘I try to tell myself that. But you know what I’m like, I get overwrought; I worry about everything. I’m worried that since we’ve decided to have a baby it’ll consume me until it happens.’ Claire looked pensive. I also felt bothered about it; she was an anxious person and that’s why my getting her and Jonathan together had been a genius move on my part. Jonathan was a complex man – much like myself in many ways – but he treated Claire well. He was old fashioned in some respects and took care of her, at the same time letting her take care of the home, which she seemed to like. I didn’t fully understand it, being a cat, but I was learning. Jonathan was like a strong man who kept Claire from being too nervous and sad and she felt safe with him. He could be grumpy but he had a heart of gold and he was loyal to her. Loyalty is so important, I had discovered.

  ‘And that’s totally normal, although I really think you need to not let it take over. I mean look at all those unwanted pregnancies. I’m sure it’s because the girls don’t think about babies that they get knocked up.’ Polly laughed.

  ‘I can’t stop myself now, though.’ Claire smiled. ‘Although you’re right, I do need to relax.’ Claire went to the cupboard and pulled out a biscuit tin that she put on the table.

  ‘So what does Jonathan think?’ Polly asked, as she munched on a biscuit.

  ‘He thinks we should just enjoy trying and make the most of it, typical man.’ Claire smiled.

  ‘Then, try to do that. He’s right.’

  ‘I know, but unlike me Jon is all huff and puff; he’s got a short temper but then he’s able to let things go easily, he doesn’t stew on things thank goodness. I think he’ll make a good dad.’

  Polly reached over and gave Claire’s hand a squeeze.

  ‘You’ll both make great parents, better than me anyway,’ she said with a sad smile.

  ‘Come on, Pol, when are you going to forgive yourself?’ Claire asked.

  When I first met Polly she was in a bad way. It was discovered that she had post-natal depression which means you are sad after having a baby, and in a way I was responsible for her getting help. Henry was a happy, healthy baby and now he was a very contented little boy but it took a while before Polly got better. When she had baby Martha just over a year ago, she had been terrified that she would feel that way again, but thankfully she didn’t. They are now a happy family and I love having Henry and Martha as my playmates.

  ‘I don’t think I ever will. I know, deep down, it wasn’t my fault, but because everything was so good with Martha I guess I’ll always feel guilty about Henry. Anyway, that’s just something that I’ll have to accept; but you don’t need to worry about that.’ Polly looked pensive.

  ‘No, I am going to have enough trouble worrying about not getting pregnant.’ Claire paused. ‘My friend Tasha is having acupuncture.’

  ‘Ouch.’

  ‘Well she swears it doesn’t hurt. She and her boyfriend have been trying a while, and I’m kind of toying with giving it a go. It’s just Jon worries that the more I do to get pregnant the more of a state I’ll get into, like a vicious circle.’

  ‘I agree, and I couldn’t do it, I hate needles.’ Polly shuddered.

  Claire poured more coffee and as I slid into a half-dozing state, they chatted about work and the house, the topic of babies safely abandoned.

  ‘Anyway, lovely, I better go, and make them all some lunch,’ Polly said as they finished their drinks. ‘But remember Franceska and the boys are coming over tomorrow. They want to see Alfie.’

  I opened my eyes and miaowed loudly to say I wanted to see them too.

  ‘I swear that cat understands everything we say,’ Claire said, picking me up so we could both see Polly to the door.

  Goodness, I loved my humans but they weren’t always very clever. Of course I could. I understood nearly everything anyway.

  - CHAPTER -

  Three

  Despite Tiger’s best efforts, I was loath to go for our usual morning constitutional in case I missed a minute with Aleksy and little Tomasz. Aleksy was my first child friend ever; I met him when he moved to Edgar Road, and he and I had an unshakable bond as a result. Although I was fond of his younger brother, Tomasz – who confusingly had the same name as his dad – and of course Henry and Martha, Aleksy was my best child friend.

  ‘We can watch the empty house,’ I suggested to Tiger. It was close enough to Polly’s for me to keep an eye on both, and watch for the arrival of Aleksy. Since the activity on Friday night there had been nothing more happening, which made the empty house even more mysterious. Still no one seemed to live there.

  ‘Alfie, nothing is happening. I might go and see what the other cats on the street are doing,’ Tiger said huffily. I looked at her, with my most charming expression, but she wouldn’t look at me.

  ‘Women’, I thought to myself, an expression I had learnt from Jonathan.

  ‘OK, but we can play later,’ I suggested, still trying to placate her, but she stalked off. I knew she would sulk for a while but then she’d forget to be angry. Tiger didn’t hold grudges; that was why we remained good friends, but she could be temperamental. I had heard Jonathan saying that most women were, and Claire always shouted at him when he said that, so I am pretty sure he is right.

  I padded around the front garden of the empty house on my own. The people who lived there previously were a house share; five young professionals – that was how Claire described them. Although they were nice enough they were barely there and had no interest in cats, so I was unfamiliar with the house.

  There was no sign of anyone and, apart from the boxes and furniture, the house was still puzzlingly empty. I still hadn’t been able to figure out why they would have moved their stuff in, in the middle of the night, and not themselves. It made no sense. A mystery. I jumped up onto a low windowsill of a front room to make sure, but nothing had changed. As I jumped down I let my mind wander again, thinking about who might soon be living there. I imagined a lovely family, older children maybe, as I didn’t have any of them in my life. Hopefully they would be fish-lovers too (eating not keeping), so I would get plenty of treats. And I prayed that there would be absolutely, definitely no dogs.

  I smiled to myself as I left the front garden and walked up the road to Polly’s house. When I first met Polly and Matt they lived in a flat but now they had a house. It was a lovely, cosy home. Polly had put a lot of work into the decor, and there were lots of pictures, photos and vibrant cushions in the living room. It made it very comfortable when I visited, and they even had a cat bed for me. After all, it was my second home.

  I stood at the front door. I could have gone around the back to where they had put in a cat flap, but I wanted to greet Aleksy the minute he arrived. My little legs were almost shaking with excitement as I waited. The weather wasn’t too bad; it was warmish and there were glimpses of sun for me to bask in. I also spent a bit of time smelling the flowers that Polly had planted, lots of red, yellow and orange coloured buds. I was careful not to get too close; last year Tiger put her nose into a flower and had been stung by a bee. She had to go to the vet and was in a lot of pain, and then had to have a nasty injection. There was no way I wanted that to happen to me. After carefully sniffing from a safe distance, I lay down in a patch of sunlight, to sunbathe.

  ‘Alfie,’ a familiar voice said a little while later. I opened my eyes. Aleksy was standing over me, smiling. He looked such a big boy now – he’d re
cently had his seventh birthday – in his jeans and sweatshirt. He had been in England for three years and although I still knew little about Poland where they had come from, he seemed to be becoming more and more English every time I saw him.

  I stood up and purred in greeting. Aleksy picked me up and I nestled into his neck. Little Tomasz stroked me and I purred at him to let him know how pleased I was to see him as well.

  ‘Right, boys, let’s go in, including you, Alfie,’ Franceska, the boys’ mum said, leaning down to stroke me. Franceska was a lovely calm lady and had worked very hard to help her family settle in England. Although she had served in a shop for a while, she now worked with her husband, big Tomasz, in his restaurant when her boys were at school. I had never been there, it was quite far from Edgar Road for a cat to venture, but I had heard from my families that it was pretty good, popular and they were doing well. I actually wished I could go and visit them, just to see where they lived. The family now lived in a flat over the restaurant and I missed them. When they lived on Edgar Road, I used to see Aleksy almost every day and now we only saw each other once a week.

  We were all in Polly’s warm front room. Martha was holding onto the dark blue sofa – she was learning to walk. I had learnt that whilst cats walk from birth, it takes humans longer, which is another thing that makes me wonder why they say that humans are cleverer than cats. I can think of many reasons why it’s the other way round, and not just the walking thing.

  Henry and Tomasz immediately started playing with Henry’s train set. Tomasz was older than Henry but they played together well. I know Aleksy often said that he was too big to play with the younger boys but I could sometimes tell that he wished he could join in. Instead he played with me. He always kept toys for me and brought them over when he came. He took them out of his backpack now and although I often felt such playing was a bit beneath me, at six cat years, I indulged him and let him dangle a fake mouse, roll a ball and I even chased the ribbons and bells. It amused Martha anyway, who was trying to balance and grab my tail at the same time. I dodged easily, but knew if she kept trying it wouldn’t end well for her.

  When Polly and Franceska returned from the kitchen, they had a tray with hot drinks for the grown-ups, squash for the children and a plate of biscuits. Immediately the boys descended on the biscuits.

  ‘Only one each,’ Franceska said, but I saw Aleksy take two with a grin.

  Polly picked up Martha to give her a bottle of milk and when I miaowed, to say that I felt left out, Polly grinned.

  ‘Frankie, can you get Alfie some milk? He obviously wants a snack too.’ I followed Franceska to the kitchen and lapped up the milk when it was presented to me. Aleksy followed me in and we found ourselves alone. The kitchen had a small round table and four chairs on one side, in the dining area, and was fitted with grey wooden cupboards on the other. I don’t know much about interior design being a cat and only having a basket to call my own, but Polly definitely had a flair, because her home looked a bit like she did, as if it came from one of those glossy magazines that Claire liked to read. In fact, Claire was talking about getting her to help redecorate our house.

  ‘I miss you, Alfie,’ Aleksy said as I finished my milk. I looked at him, as I cleaned myself up, trying to read his eyes and my heart sank. I could see it, sadness in his little face, and it caused me physical pain. I was always greatly affected by the emotions of my humans but the children, especially Aleksy, were the worst. I rubbed myself against his legs to tell him I missed him too. ‘Sometimes I think we should still live here when I could see you every day,’ he said. I purred in concurrence.

  ‘Aleksy.’ Tomasz ran into the kitchen like the whirlwind he was. Aleksy was the sensitive child whereas little Tomasz was more physical.

  ‘What, Tommy?’ Aleksy asked.

  ‘Claire is here and she bought us a present.’ Tomasz shook with excitement and Aleksy’s eyes lit up as he ran into the living room.

  Whatever was bothering Aleksy would obviously have to wait.

  ‘Alfie.’ Claire scooped me up. ‘I was looking for you. I swear this cat is still as elusive as ever, I sometimes wonder if he’s found other homes.’

  ‘Surely not?’ Franceska said.

  ‘Well, he’s always out and about. Who knows? He stays with us most nights but …’

  ‘Well he visits us most days,’ Polly pointed out.

  I miaowed loudly. I might be curious about the residents moving into the new house, but I knew who my families were.

  As I snuggled on Franceska’s lap I surveyed the living room with a swelling heart. The boys were all playing a game that Claire had bought them. Martha had fallen asleep, curled up beside Polly on the sofa, her chubby legs sticking out from a blanket. Claire was animated, Franceska stroked me as she listened and chatted, and Polly was smiling. I was such a lucky cat, I really was. My last thought, as like Martha, I took my nap, was how happy I felt to see love, happiness and my families in that room.

  - CHAPTER -

  Four

  I was washing myself in the kitchen after breakfast when the cat flap clanged and Tiger breathlessly appeared. We often went into each other’s homes, but we had to be careful that our owners didn’t catch us as they could be a bit mean to uninvited cats. But Tiger knew that Jonathan and Claire were at work on a weekday, so she was safe.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Tiger asked. She sounded excited.

  ‘I was about to go to Polly’s. She normally takes a walk to the park, so I thought I might tag along.’

  ‘Well, you might want to come with me instead.’ She made it sound like a command rather than an invitation.

  I followed her out. She jumped onto the fence in the back garden, then stopped and looked at me.

  ‘Are you OK to jump today?’ I looked back at her. My leg was feeling fine today, and I told Tiger so as I followed her.

  I had been injured a couple of years ago, when Claire’s ex-boyfriend had attacked me. Although my back leg was all right now, some days it hurt more than others, and I knew better than to jump too much in general. It reminded me of what I had been through; like a deep-rooted scar. I’d been lucky to survive but I didn’t want to think about that right now.

  More important things were a-paw.

  I still didn’t know what was going on until Tiger led me into the back garden of number 48, to the patio doors where we could see into the house. We were staring at a kitchen/dining room like Jonathan and Claire’s. And today, we could see that the boxes had been unpacked.

  ‘I didn’t see any people yesterday, did they come this morning?’ I asked.

  ‘No, which is why I had to come and find you. I got up really early, and when I walked past the front of the house I saw that the living room boxes had been unpacked. I checked around before coming to see you but there’s no sign of any humans.’

  Tiger used to do very little with her time before we became friends. Previously, I had often accused her of being a lazy cat. She had middle-aged owners who indulged her, and who didn’t have children so she was spoilt and liked her home comforts. Not that I could blame her for that, as I too used to be a lap cat when I lived with my first owner. However, my good influence was clearly rubbing off on her and since we’d been friends, she had become a bit more adventurous.

  ‘Let’s see if we can find the others and see if they know anything,’ I suggested. So we ran to the end of the street where we found some of our friends hanging out.

  When I was attacked by Claire’s ex-boyfriend Joe, Tiger had told all the other cats how I had provoked Joe in order to save Claire from a relationship with him; a man who turned out to be a horrible bully. My plan worked a treat, despite the fact I nearly died, but after I recovered I found myself a bit of a hero among the local cats. Even Tom, who could be quite mean, showed me a grudging respect and no longer tried to fight me. I finally had cat friends who were ready to look out for me, after such a long time of feeling alone in the world.

  Elvis, Nellie and
Rocky all greeted us warmly.

  ‘Do you know anything about number forty-eight?’ I asked.

  ‘I do, actually,’ Nellie announced sounding smug.

  ‘Well what is it?’ I asked.

  ‘Last night it was very late, there were no lights on in any of the houses, only the street lamps. Anyway I was taking a bit of a stroll with Ronnie.’ Ronnie was another of our cat friends, but Ronnie was almost completely nocturnal and I never saw her during the day.

  ‘Go on,’ I encouraged. The problem with Nellie was that she liked a drama.

  ‘I’m getting to it. Anyway, we were strolling, but a car pulled up, as I said it was the middle of the night.’

  ‘Get on with it.’ Tiger scowled.

  ‘OK, keep your fur on. Anyway, so the car pulled up and two men got out. I guess they were unpacking but after a couple of hours, they got back in the car and left.’

  ‘Right, so what did the men look like?’ I asked.

  ‘Just two typical humans, one thin with very little hair whilst the other was fatter with grey-ish hair but that’s all I can tell you.’ It sounded like the men from the other night.

  ‘So as far as we know no one’s moved in there yet?’

  ‘Nope, they left. But it means someone will soon.’

  ‘Yeah thanks, Nellie, we got that,’ Tiger finished, giving Nellie a withering look.

  ‘You could always ask, you know, him,’ Elvis suggested. We all balked at the idea; although Elvis hadn’t mentioned his name we all knew which cat he was referring to. And this cat was not one of our friends.

  ‘Oh God, you could but really do you want to?’ Rocky asked.

  ‘It’s a last resort,’ I replied.

  ‘Very last resort,’ Tiger concurred. We all shuddered.

  As if summoned by magic, the cat in question rounded the corner and made his way towards us. We all grouped together as Salmon approached. He was an unpleasant cat who lived with his owners, Vic and Heather Goodwin, Edgar Road’s busybodies. Salmon was as nosey as his owners and also very arrogant, and they lived almost opposite the empty house. He was a fat brown cat with mean eyes; none of us cats liked him and always tried to avoid him if we could. He was known for being a bit of a bully.