Oliver the Cat Who Saved Christmas

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Oliver the Cat Who Saved Christmas Page 2

by Sheila Norton


  ‘I reckon he’s hungry,’ he said. ‘I don’t know how long he’d been stuck up that tree. Can we give him something to eat, Nicky?’

  The girl started emptying tins out of a shopping bag onto the kitchen counter.

  ‘I’ve got some sardines here,’ she said doubtfully. Sardines! Yes – result! I immediately started winding myself round her legs, purring for all I was worth. ‘But they were supposed to be for lunch,’ she added quietly.

  ‘We can have something else, can’t we? You’ve got baked beans there. I’ll phone his owner as soon as he’s eaten. We won’t have to keep on feeding him.’

  They were looking at each other with worried faces. I wondered what the problem was. I just wanted those sardines!

  ‘OK,’ the girl called Nicky finally agreed. She started opening the tin. The smell made me feel faint with hunger and longing. ‘Here you go, Oliver.’ She put the dish down on the floor and I fell on it. ‘Good grief, Dan, he must be starving!’ she added, laughing. ‘Fair enough, his need’s even greater than ours.’

  Out of the corner of my eye, while I wolfed down the food, I saw him put his arm round her and give her a kiss. That was good. I’d seen people sitting together in the pub doing that, and it usually meant they were happy.

  ‘I’m sorry about the firewood,’ he was saying. ‘I’ll go out again later.’

  ‘No, it’s five o’clock now and it’s dark already. Leave it till tomorrow and I’ll come with you. We can carry more, together. I just don’t think we can afford to put the heating on.’

  ‘I know. How much was the shopping this time?’

  ‘Not as bad as last week. The butcher gave me some cheap mince, and I got special offers on tea bags and butter.’

  ‘Well done.’ He gave her another kiss. ‘We’ll manage, Nick. If we can get through the winter, things will get better.’

  And they stood like that, arms round each other, watching me till I’d finished eating. I had the impression they liked me but at the same time, wanted me to go home as soon as possible. And sure enough, the minute I’d finished the last morsel, Daniel picked me up and called out the number on my identity disc, while Nicky punched the numbers into her phone.

  ‘There’s no reply,’ she said after a while.

  ‘OK. Well, the owner’s probably just gone out somewhere. Looking for their cat, probably!’ he added, but Nicky didn’t laugh.

  ‘We can’t keep him, Dan,’ she said.

  ‘I know. Of course I know that.’ He stroked me, and I gave him a little purr. I wanted to go back to George, obviously, but I was feeling full and safe and warm now, and could easily have fallen asleep right there in Daniel’s arms. It had been a terrible time, what with the fox, and the trauma of the fire …

  The fire! I meowed and twitched my tail anxiously as it all came back to me. Poor George! My poor pub. Did I even have a home to go back to now? I wanted to explain to nice Daniel and Nicky that the number on my disc might belong to a phone that was lying in a burnt-up wreck of a building where nobody could live anymore.

  ‘He still seems a bit distressed,’ Nicky commented, and she gave my head a little stroke. ‘Perhaps you’re right, he might have been lost for ages. Although he doesn’t look too thin.’

  I took that as a compliment.

  ‘Let’s just try the phone number again later on,’ Daniel said. ‘I’m sure someone will be out looking for him. He’s such a lovely cat and he looks well cared-for.’

  I knew he was a human I could trust. He had good taste in cats. I was purring to myself happily as he put me down on a sofa, and I dozed off into a nice peaceful sleep.

  CHAPTER THREE

  It was a different voice that woke me up – a strange male voice. I was instantly on high alert, ears up, muscles tense, ready to run. The voice sounded friendly enough, but you can never be too sure.

  ‘I know who that is!’ The voice belonged to another male, a large one with a bristly face. I didn’t like the look of him. I gave him a warning growl as he came closer, but he just laughed. ‘It’s Ollie, the pub cat from the Forester’s Arms. You know Ollie, don’t you? Everyone in the village knows Ollie.’

  Daniel and Nicky exchanged a sad kind of look. ‘We never go there,’ Daniel said.

  ‘Oh. No, well, I suppose you haven’t lived here very long. Well, he belongs to George, the landlord. Blimey, I suppose he’s got nowhere to go, now. I take it you’ve seen what’s happened to the pub?’

  ‘Oh, yes, of course!’ Nicky gasped. ‘The fire.’

  ‘Yes, it’s pretty badly damaged, isn’t it?’ said Daniel. ‘And the village hall doesn’t look much better.’

  ‘Well, the fire brigade managed to put it out before the hall burned down completely, but you’re right, the pub and the hall will both be out of action for God knows how long.’ He stroked his bristly chin, looking at me seriously. ‘I wonder why old George didn’t take the cat with him when he left.’

  Left? Left? I sat up straighter, unable to believe what I was hearing. George wouldn’t leave, without me!

  ‘Where’s he gone?’ Daniel asked.

  ‘To stay with his sister in London. Poor chap hasn’t got any other family, see. His sister’s offered to put him up till the repair work’s done. I reckon that’ll be the best part of a year. The insurance will have to pay out, of course, but you know how long that can take.’

  ‘How awful for him. Losing his home and his livelihood,’ Nicky said, looking upset.

  ‘And his cat,’ the big man said, nodding at me. ‘We ought to let him know you’ve found him.’

  ‘We’ve tried, twice now. The number’s on his disc. No reply,’ Daniel said.

  ‘What number is it? Let me have a look.’ The big man reached out for me, and I yowled in fright and jumped off the sofa, running to hide behind the curtains. They all laughed. I didn’t really see what was funny. I was beginning to recognise this man as one of a group who came into the pub fairly often. They were always quite noisy together, drinking a lot of beer and playing something called dominoes that made them shout and laugh a lot. I always tried to stay clear of them. He seemed all right now, but like I’ve said, I don’t take chances with male humans until I’m sure of them.

  ‘Let me pick him up, Martin,’ Daniel said. ‘He seems to have got used to me. I found him stuck up a tree in Tunny Woods.’ He lifted me up and showed him my identity disc.

  ‘That’s the pub number,’ Martin said at once. ‘No good to you now! You’ll be needing George’s mobile. I’ve got it – I call him on that when it’s about the dominoes team matches.’ He sighed as he got his own phone out of his pocket and started tapping it. ‘We won’t have anywhere to hold those for a while. We’d booked a table for our Christmas meal there, too. Ah well, that’s not important in the scheme of things, I suppose…’ He broke off suddenly, then shouted into the phone: ‘George? It’s Martin here, from the dominoes team. Sorry about the fire and everything, mate. How’re you doing?’

  Daniel had put me back down on the sofa and Nicky was sitting next to me, stroking me, as we all listened to Martin telling George that I’d been found, safe and well, up the top of a tree. I felt so upset, knowing that my human, my best friend in the whole world, was on the other end of that phone, but I couldn’t see him or even hear him. I cried a few sad little meows and Nicky stroked me harder, saying ‘Ah, poor Oliver.’ I told myself that at least I’d fallen on my paws with her and Daniel, when I could have ended up as a fox’s dinner, so I really shouldn’t feel too sorry for myself.

  ‘Would you guys be happy to hang onto the cat till he can sort something out?’ Martin said when he’d finally said goodbye to George.

  Nicky and Daniel were looking at each other anxiously.

  ‘How long’s that likely to be?’ Daniel said. ‘Only I’m not being funny, but I thought George would be coming straight round to collect him.’

  So did I. I mean, they seemed nice people, and they seemed to like me, but I missed George, and it was
horrible to think he might not want me back. Had I upset him in some way? I’d done my best, hadn’t I, going upstairs to wake him up and warn him about the fire. I couldn’t have done much more.

  ‘No,’ Martin was saying. ‘He’s in a bit of a pickle, by the sound of it. His sister’s being very good, putting him up and everything. But she lives on a main road in a busy part of London, apparently, and George says the cat’s not used to heavy traffic. He’d be worried all the time about him getting out and getting run over. So he was wondering whether anyone in the village would be able to look after Oliver for him.’

  I’d given a little squawk of alarm at the thought of the heavy traffic. It was true, cars frightened me. There weren’t usually too many on the roads in the village, but there was a big loud main road a bit further down the hill from the pub. I’d heard people calling it a bypass and saying the village was much more peaceful since it had been built – but it scared the life out of me and I stayed right away from it.

  ‘Not only that,’ Martin went on, ‘but his sister suffers from allergies. Cat hair’s the worst thing.’

  Oh, allergies – yes, I’d heard about this before. A lady who came into the pub once, started sneezing really badly and when she saw me, she made a fuss in between sneezes, saying cats shouldn’t be allowed in pubs because of our hair and people’s allergies. George was very nice to her about it, saying how sorry he was about her sneezing, but he explained the pub was my home and he couldn’t expect me to stay outside, and perhaps if she’d like to sit in the other bar (where the meals were served and I wasn’t allowed), she’d be all right. But she went off with a cross face and never came back.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Nicky, and she looked at Daniel again, and he looked back at her, and both their mouths were turned down. Nicky was still stroking me, so I knew she still liked me, but there seemed to be some kind of problem here.

  ‘We can’t keep him,’ Daniel said, looking upset. ‘It’s just, to be quite honest…’ He went a bit red and didn’t seem to want to go on.

  ‘We can’t afford to feed him,’ Nicky blurted out. ‘I’m sorry. It’s embarrassing to admit it, but we can hardly afford to feed ourselves. The rent … and our fares…’

  ‘Oh, right, of course, I understand,’ Martin said. He sort of shifted from one paw to the other, the way humans do when they feel awkward. ‘Everyone’s hard up these days, aren’t they, what with the bloody government, bloody banks, economy being what it is…’ He tailed off, and then added quickly, ‘Well, look, I could always take him back next door with me, instead.’

  I stiffened again, ready to run up the curtains. No way was I going home with him. I didn’t trust him yet. His voice was too loud, his face was too red and bristly, and he had very big front paws. I looked at nice Nicky and meowed my distress to her, but she didn’t seem to be taking any notice.

  ‘Are you sure?’ she said. ‘But you and Sarah have got the two kids to feed, and … well, isn’t it a bit soon after Sooty?’

  Sooty? Who was Sooty, and what did he have to do with it? I meowed again, my anxiety increasing.

  Martin’s face seemed to turn sad for a minute. Then he gave a little shrug and I saw him making an effort to smile again.

  ‘I think it’ll actually help the children to get over Sooty. Having another cat around could be exactly the right thing. We’re going to get another one of our own, of course. We just haven’t really had time to think about it yet.’

  So Sooty was a cat, and it sounded like something had happened to him. And Martin sounded upset about it. I stopped meowing and gave him another glance. If he’d had a cat already, and missed him, surely he couldn’t be all bad.

  ‘Anyway, we’ve got more space next door, and a garden,’ he went on, and this time his voice sounded more cheerful again. ‘And the kids would play with him’.

  I felt sorry that something had happened to this Sooty cat, of course, but if I’m really honest, I was relieved that there wasn’t going to be another cat next door if I went there. The thing is, little kitten, some male cats can be really funny about what they call their territory. They go around spraying everywhere to mark their boundaries and get quite aggressive if any other cat crosses into their area, even if it’s by accident. That’s how a lot of fights start. I could never see the point of it – I prefer a quiet life, myself.

  ‘Well,’ Nicky was saying now, and she was still stroking me, still looking at me sadly, making me think she’d like me to stay really. ‘It might be better for Oliver, too, because we’re both out at work all day and he might get lonely. Are you absolutely sure it’ll be OK with Sarah?’

  ‘Of course it will. Sarah’s a soft touch with animals.’

  That was good to hear, too. I was beginning to think it might be OK to go with Martin after all. But I still flinched when he went to pick me up, and this time it was Nicky who laughed.

  ‘Martin won’t hurt you, Oliver,’ she said, and she picked me up instead. ‘Come on, I’ll carry you in next door, shall I? You’ll like Sarah. And the children.’

  Children. Kitten-humans. That’d be interesting. I often used to watch some playing outside the pub, on the village green. Perhaps they’d play with me. At least that’d make the time go more quickly until George could come back for me.

  * * *

  The house next door was completely different from Nicky and Daniel’s. Not that I’d had much time to explore theirs, but the living room was tiny, and the kitchen where I ate my food was not much bigger than the broom cupboard back at the pub. And when I’d been hanging onto the top of their curtains, I’d looked for a garden, but there wasn’t one: just a little bit of paving with one of those washing lines that goes round and round in the wind. When Nicky carried me into Martin and Sarah’s house, I could see the garden straight away, through the big glass doors at the end of the lounge. There was lots of nice grass, and bushes – places for hiding – and even some swings like the ones they had on the village green for the children. There were two little girls playing in the garden, wrapped up in coats and boots, chasing each other around. It looked like fun and I quite fancied joining in. But Nicky sat down with me on her lap while Martin explained all about me to Sarah.

  ‘Oh, poor Oliver!’ Sarah said when she’d heard the whole story about George and the pub and the sister with the allergies. She was a smiley, cuddly-looking female, with pretty long golden hair, and she kept smiling at me. ‘Of course he can stay with us. The children will love him, and I’m sure you’re right, it’ll help us all get over Sooty.’

  ‘Well, if there’s any problem, we’ll take him back. We’ll manage somehow,’ Nicky said anxiously. ‘I’d love to look after him, if only…’

  She looked so sad at not being able to afford my dinners, I felt really upset for her. I gave her a little lick on her hand and rubbed my face against hers.

  ‘He’s really taken to you, hasn’t he?’ Sarah said. ‘Tell you what – we could kind of share him, couldn’t we? Till George comes back? I mean, we’ll feed him here, of course, it’s no trouble, as I only do a bit of freelance work so I’m here most of the day. But I bet he’ll still come next door to you for extra cuddles.’

  Well, that seemed to cheer Nicky up, and it did me, too. Yes, I certainly seemed to have fallen on my paws! Not one new foster-home, but two. Neither of them were going to be as good as being back with George in the pub, of course. But I just had to be a big brave cat and make the best of it. There were a lot of cats worse off than me. And I’d been through a lot worse myself, in fact, when I was a very small kitten, even younger than you. But as I’ve said already, that’s another story. I might tell you one day, even though it still makes me shiver to think about it. But right now, little kitten, it’s getting late, and getting dark, and I think we both need to go back for our dinners. I’ll tell you some more tomorrow.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Hello again. You’re awake early, aren’t you? Couldn’t sleep? Huh, I remember feeling like that sometimes when I was
a younger cat – on nice bright mornings like this, when there were birds to chase and flies to jump around after. Now, there aren’t enough hours in the day for all the catnaps I need.

  Oh, it’s because you’re excited to hear the rest of my story, is it? Well, I warn you, it might take a long while and you’ll probably get fed up before the end of it and want to be off dancing around in the sunshine again. What it is to be young!

  All right, where did I get up to yesterday? Ah yes – Martin and Sarah’s house. I slept well there, that first night. Sarah made me up a lovely comfy bed in Sooty’s old basket, with soft blankets and some kind of furry toy from one of the children to keep me company. Of course, you know what it’s like, don’t you? I didn’t often sleep there after the first night. No matter how comfy a bed is, we cats like to find different places to sleep. There was an armchair in their lounge with a big thick velvety cushion on, that I was particularly fond of.

  Anyway, let me tell you about the children. They were two small females, called Grace and Rose. Grace was bigger than Rose. She giggled a lot and moved around very quickly. She got so excited when Sarah introduced me to her, I thought she was going to run up the curtains. Rose was different – quiet and not so happy looking. I could see why. She had a damaged front paw. It was wrapped up in a kind of hard case that looked like a bandage, and she had to wear something they called a sling, like a harness round her neck, to keep it in place. I felt sorry for her and gave her some extra licks and rubs, but although one minute she was smiling as if she was pleased to meet me, she suddenly burst into tears and started saying ‘Sooty! Sooty!’ over and over while she cried. I didn’t like to think I’d upset her. I ran off and hid under a chair.

  ‘Don’t worry, Oliver,’ Sarah said kindly, bending down under the chair to talk to me. ‘It’s not your fault. Rose is still upset about losing her other cat.’

 

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