by Rachel Wells
‘Thanks, Dustbin, you always say the right thing. What about Aleksy?’ I gave Dustbin a quick affectionate nudge. He wasn’t a touchy-feely type of cat but I like to think I had softened him up a bit over the years.
‘He’s a bit sad, the poor lad. He can’t phone her so I don’t get to overhear him any more, but he does mooch around quite a lot. His mum and him are talking more now though, which is a good thing, and he asked her for a job, so he can buy Connie a present to cheer her up. I’m not sure what kind of present though.’
Ah, Aleksy was a man after my own heart. He was going to do a grand gesture, a gift to show Connie that he cared. I had done the same in my time. Not that it was as simple for cats; not being able to buy anything meant that we had to be a little more creative. Digging up flowers and climbing trees, that sort of thing, but let’s not go there. Anyway, Aleksy was showing what a considerate, caring youngster he was, which made me happy. And he and Franceska were on good terms again, which made me even happier.
‘Did she give him a job?’
‘She said he was too young to do anything official but he’s helping with cleaning up and polishing cutlery at the restaurant and she’s giving him extra pocket money, so yes it seems so. From listening to their conversations it seems that he still spends time with Connie at school. They are both sad about how her mother is but Connie says she won’t budge. At least the mother/son relationship is good again, it’s like he’s stopped being a teenager.’
‘Thank goodness. I miss the old chatty Aleksy and he and Franceska, who were always so close, need to be again. That at least makes me happy.’
‘We need to count every single blessing at the moment, Alfie,’ Dustbin pointed out.
‘I agree, and if Aleksy is being sweet and it seems quite mature about this whole thing, trying to cheer Connie up rather than getting angry, well, I’m one happy cat.’ I wasn’t exactly happy. ‘I just wish there was something I could do to get Sylvie to come round. Not only has she made the kids miserable but she’s isolated herself now, so she can’t be happy.’
‘You’ll come up with something. Oh look, it’s that pesky rat. I thought I’d seen him off, excuse me a minute.’ Dustbin turned, ran at breakneck speed and pounced on a rat. I turned my head away. It didn’t look as if that rat would be bothering the restaurant again. It was the ugly side of being a cat and I could only be thankful that I didn’t have to worry about it. There, I had found two blessings in one afternoon, which was better than none.
I saw Franceska come out of the restaurant, just as I was about to leave.
‘Alfie, you came to see us,’ she said, petting me. ‘It’s a long way, can I get you some sardines?’
‘Meow,’ I replied. She certainly could. And that was blessing number three.
Chapter Twenty
December beckoned, with its demands for Christmas trees and advent calendars, and excitement was palpable among the young members of my family. The auditions for the nativity had taken place and everyone was waiting eagerly to learn of their parts. Even George forgot to be surly at all times. Although we were still shrouded in sadness – Tiger was getting worse, and the situation next door with Sylvie, Connie and Hana was no better – amidst all that, Christmas had officially started in Edgar Road.
Tiger was hanging on but we were seeing less and less of her. Not only was she hardly going out, but her family had started closing her cat flap more often, and so George and I were able to snatch only occasional moments with her, which were becoming rarer. If the cat flap was shut, she would try to make it to a window to see us, it had become our new thing, but it wasn’t the same. Poor George had to talk to his new friend and his mum through a window, and I could tell he was getting frustrated with both. And he wasn’t the only one. I had nothing. No plans, no schemes, and no idea how to fix any of the messes we were surrounded with. I was a cat without a plan and I was nursing a very bad heartache.
‘Claire, how on earth are we going to get a tree that size home?’ Jonathan said. Claire had been to the tree man down the road and had just announced that she’d reserved a tree which was over six-foot tall.
‘Tomasz said he’d go with you in his van.’ Claire indicated the conversation was closed. She was drawing up big plans for Christmas. She talked of something called ‘hygge’.
‘What on earth is that?’ Jonathan had despair written all over his face.
‘It’s Danish and it’s to do with cosy, simple pleasures, and I want to make our house feel like that this year.’
Jonathan just shook his head.
‘I’ve got lots of candles and this is going to be a proper family Christmas,’ she announced.
‘Let’s just hope we don’t burn the house down,’ Jonathan finished.
I left them, Claire talking through her plans for making the house Christmassy, and Jonathan still shaking his head, and went to find my boy.
George had reacted just as you would expect a child to react; he was angry, scared and he felt as if he was being abandoned. Parents are meant to protect their children and both Tiger and I had failed him in this. I remembered how I felt when my sister cat, Agnes, died when I was just a kitten. I’d been so lost without her and I didn’t understand. My owner was beside herself and so I retreated into myself. I’d felt as if I had no one to turn to and then, when Margaret died a year later, I was utterly alone. But George wasn’t alone; not that that would make him feel better right now. I was pretty sure that nothing would make him feel better right now. It broke my heart, which was already breaking over Tiger. I was worried there would be nothing left. But I had to pull myself together. For Tiger, and for George.
I set off down the road to find him. George was always home for tea, and with all the drama I realised I hadn’t seen him for quite a while. He was loitering near the front of Tiger’s house.
‘Ah, there you are.’
‘So?’ George looked at me angrily.
‘Well, it’s just that I hadn’t seen you for ages and it’s teatime.’
‘Whatever,’ he said, sounding just like a teenager.
George looked at me with his beautiful big eyes, but I couldn’t tell how he was feeling.
‘It’s about Tiger mum.’
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ He sat and flicked his tail angrily towards me.
‘OK, then you can just listen. What has happened sucks.’ I employed ‘teenage’ speak in the hope of getting through to him. ‘For her, for me, and most of all for you. Saying goodbye is the hardest thing we have to do in our lives, and I know this as I’ve done it a number of times before. But, and this is where I need you to listen, if you don’t say goodbye to Tiger mum, while you’ve got the chance, then you’ll regret it, and I can’t let you do that. I promise you that I love you, and I’ll be here for you for a long time to come, but now I need you to talk to me about it.’
‘But, I don’t want to,’ he said, his voice small, tinged with sadness. His tail was wrapped around his body as if he was trying to protect himself.
‘I know, son, and if I could have it any other way I would, but I can’t. You need to say goodbye and you need to say it now. Please don’t leave it until it’s too late. Don’t regret it or be angry with us, because this isn’t anyone’s fault.’
George sat silently. I could tell he was mulling my words over, but I was determined. I would somehow drag him round there if I had to – although I had no idea how, he was quite a weight now. I crossed my paws that it wouldn’t come to that.
‘Should I go to find her right now?’ he asked, his eyes full of fear.
‘I’ll be right with you,’ I said, as we set off.
We made our way round to the back of the houses. It was eerily quiet, apart from the odd bird squawk or the faint sound of a car engine – it was like a ghost street. I could feel our uncertainty, shivering as we walked. We reached the back doorstep and looked at each other. I tipped my head slightly, and then I checked the cat flap. Thankfully it was open; I let mysel
f have a huge sigh of relief. I gestured for George to go through first and then I followed, hot on his paws. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the worst.
We both padded through to the living room, where Tiger was in her bed, in the same place I had left her last night. The fire warmed the room and I immediately felt my fur start to defrost. I nudged George slightly as he paused and we both made it to her bed at the same time.
‘Tiger,’ I whispered, hoping against hope that she was still with us. I almost didn’t dare breathe.
‘Mum,’ George said, and I thought my heart would crack in two. After what seemed like an eternity she opened her eyes.
‘My two favourites,’ she said, her voice quiet and raspy.
‘Mum, I’m sorry,’ George cried. ‘I just couldn’t bear to say goodbye but Dad told me I would be sad if I did but even sadder if I didn’t. I don’t want you to go.’
‘I don’t want to go either, son,’ she said. George hopped into the bed and snuggled into her.
They say cats don’t shed tears but I swear my eyes were full of them.
‘I will always love you, George,’ she said. ‘Remember that, and I’ll always be part of you and you’ll always be part of me.’
‘And I will always love you too, Mum,’ he replied.
‘Be good for your dad, be true to yourself and you’ll grow into a fine adult cat.’
‘And wherever you are, you’ll see me? You’ll always watch over me?’
‘I will, George, even though you won’t be able to see me.’
‘But I want to see you,’ he cried. Tiger gave me an anxious glance.
‘You know, George, your dad and my favourite thing to do was to watch the moon, and you know when we did we also saw lots of stars in the sky. If you ever want to see me then look into the night sky and I will be the brightest star. I won’t be able to be with you but I’ll always be there.’
‘You’ll be in our hearts forever,’ I said, not for the first time, but I didn’t know how else to say goodbye and I didn’t trust myself to speak further.
‘And you mine. Be the best you can be and, George, try to keep your dad out of trouble.’ They both grinned and nuzzled.
‘Oi,’ I said, trying to sound jovial, but feeling as if the words were going to choke me.
‘You two have each other, you need to be a team, a family, please remember that,’ Tiger said. Before we could answer, I saw her body go rigid, then still. Her eyes closed. I looked at George, he looked at me. We both knew she had gone. It was almost as if we had seen her go and I was rooted to the spot. I watched my boy yowl into Tiger’s fur and I knew that we would never see or hear her again. Not in the real world anyway. Tiger had breathed her last breath and now we had to find a way to carry on without her.
After a long while, I gave George a gentle nudge.
‘We should go, son,’ I said. ‘Her family will be down soon.’ I felt for them, how they would wake up today and find Tiger gone, that would be so hard for them, but I couldn’t help. For once in my life I felt totally helpless.
‘OK, Dad,’ George replied, and reluctantly, wishing with our hearts that we didn’t have to go, we both gave her one last nuzzle before leaving.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tiger was gone but Christmas was coming. George and I were silent as we observed the house being decorated. We didn’t talk about Tiger, neither of us were ready yet. I needed to see our friends, but for now I wanted to be silent in my grief. And from what I could see, George felt the same, so I was showing him I was there for him, whilst trying to hold myself together.
Our house looked beautiful with its big tree in the living room that Claire insisted on putting up on the first day of December. It took Jonathan, Matt and Tomasz to carry it in the house, which elicited a lot of words that neither children nor cats should have to listen to. And then they discovered it was too tall for the room, so Tomasz had to saw off the top. Although it wouldn’t be Christmas if it all went smoothly! Claire was so happy about the tree that no amount of Jonathan’s moaning could ruin it for her.
Despite the fact that we were miserable, we tried to enjoy the occasion the way we would most years. The children were so excited as they helped decorate it, as was fast becoming a Christmas tradition. It looked a little bottom heavy as a result but it also reflected our family. There were homemade decorations from both Summer and Toby, their favourite coloured baubles, which they were allowed to choose, and an abundance of tinsel. Toby even begged George not to try to jump into the tree this year. As George had done this every year since he’d been with us, we weren’t confident. Even though he said he would try his best, I had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t be able to resist. Our living room had a sudden explosion of tinsel, lights and brightness, and it couldn’t fail but to cheer us up. It was a burst of colour in our very black and white life.
Claire then did as she’d suggested she would and put out lots of candles. I wasn’t sure about them – candles, cats and children weren’t a good combination – but she said this was her nod to ‘hygge’. She hadn’t quite grasped what else it meant so to her it was just far too many candles and, as Jonathan said, ‘turning our house into a fire hazard’.
Claire had also written most of her Christmas cards and she put one through the door at Sylvie’s saying she hoped that they could have a drink over Christmas. Claire, like me, didn’t like giving up, so she was trying to come up with ways to get Sylvie back into our Edgar Road fold. Jonathan told Claire to leave it but she rarely listened to him. I agreed, not just because we liked and cared about Sylvie, but also because both Aleksy and Connie were still being kept apart. I knew (via Hana and George) that Connie was still crying most nights, and Aleksy was miserable without his friend (via Dustbin).
Hana told George that Sylvie had found out that her ex-husband was having a baby with his new woman and that had set her off into deeper depression. He’d even suggested Connie going to spend Christmas with them but Sylvie couldn’t bear to lose the only person she had left in her life. I understood. We were lucky with all the people we loved, despite losing Tiger, but she had no one. It was beyond sad.
I saw her in the street and tried to get her attention but she seemed to look through me as if I was invisible. I really was worried about her and her state of mind. It wasn’t good, I could tell. I needed to do something, and through habit I went to see Tiger, momentarily forgetting that she was no longer there. I was alone to come up with a plan. I wanted to get Hana out of the house, but again, nothing. I thought if I got George in then that would be something, but they didn’t even leave the top windows open any more, so I had no chance. There was literally no way in. George offered to see if he could fit through the letter box but even I knew that wouldn’t work.
I was trying to make my list, in my head. Tiger, gone, but I wasn’t ready to let go. Aleksy, missing his first love, and we all knew what that was like. Connie, isolated and angry with her mother. Sylvie, upset about her divorce but taking it out on the wrong people. Hana, a poor cat caught in the middle. And George, who was still disappearing regularly, still not quite talking to me the way he used to, and obviously hurting but refusing to let me comfort him. It was a lot.
Thank goodness for Christmas. The only speck of happiness on the horizon.
I sat with Claire as she made even more lists. She explained to me she was making a list of presents to get.
‘Everyone likes getting gifts, Alfie, so I am going to make sure I put a lot of thought into it. It’s how us humans show we love each other.’
Ping, I had a brainwave. Gifts, of course. That was the answer. I would win Sylvie over by getting her gifts. I went off for my afternoon nap and to try to make my own list of what I could get her.
‘I am never speaking to him again,’ I heard Toby shout as the front door opened and, along with a gust of icy wind, Claire, Toby and Summer burst in.
‘Toby, calm down,’ Claire pleaded. She chewed her bottom lip, worriedly. Summe
r was looking a bit startled, after all she wasn’t the one being dramatic for once and she didn’t seem to know how to handle that. Toby’s face was red and angry. Oh no, what now, I thought. This was not good. Our Toby was such a star. He had come to us age five having been adopted, and not having had a great start in life. At first he’d had nightmares, which George had stopped, and then he’d had a fear of being sent away. But finally, he now seemed to feel, to believe, he was the important part of the family that he really was. It was both heart-breaking that he’d been through that but heart-warming that he had us now and we had him. We all loved him so much. Just as much as Summer.
‘I will not calm down. It’s not fair.’ He sounded a bit like Summer as he stamped his foot. I guess he’d been taking lessons. I was glad for once that George was out; this scene would have definitely upset him. None of us liked it when Toby was unhappy, although I didn’t recall seeing him this angry before.
‘OK, but Tobe, you have to tell me, because you just sulked all the way home and neither you nor Henry would speak. So can one of you please let me know what’s going on?’ Claire ran her hands through her hair. Toby and Henry were best friends, inseparable, so I didn’t like the sound of them falling out.
‘I will not.’ Toby crossed his arms and then looked a little unsure what to do.
‘Oh Mummy, what happened is this,’ Summer said. ‘They announced the Jesus play people in assembly today. I’m a star. Daddy says I’m a star anyway, so I think that’s why they cast me.’
‘I am guessing you mean nativity, and Summer, yes you are a star, but please can you tell me why this has made Tobe in such a bad mood.’ Claire tried to hug him but he slipped out of range.
‘He’s Joseph, who is baby Jesus’ daddy, but not his real one because Mary was a virgin.’
‘Oh God, Summer, who told you the nativity story?’ Claire asked, although it was a little off point.