Alfie and George Read online

  Alfie & George

  Rachel Wells

  Copyright

  Published by Avon an imprint of

  HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

  1 London Bridge Street,

  London, SE1 9GF

  www.harpercollins.co.uk

  First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2016

  Copyright © Rachel Wells 2016

  Cover photographs © Shutterstock

  Cover design © Head Design 2016

  Rachel Wells asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

  Source ISBN: 9780008181642

  Ebook Edition © November 2016 ISBN: 9780008181659

  Version: 2016-10-27

  Dedication

  To Jo with love

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Keep Reading …

  About the Author

  About the Publisher

  Chapter One

  ‘What on earth is THAT?’ I looked at Snowball, my cat girlfriend, then at the creature. We were standing by the wooden fence that surrounded the garden of our holiday home, staring at the strange creature roaming around on the other side. It was quite plump, had a very sharp beak, spiky fur, which looked feathery, and small, mean eyes. It made a funny, high-pitched noise as it eyeballed us, pecking in our direction. I backed away nervously.

  ‘Oh, Alfie, it’s just a hen! You must have seen one before?’ Snowball laughed.

  I took offence, though in actual fact I hadn’t seen a real-life chicken before. But I was supposed to be the man in the relationship so I tried to square up.

  ‘Hiss,’ I said. There, that’d show him who was boss. But then the hen rushed towards me, wobbling its tiny head and flapping its wings. I jumped back.

  Snowball laughed again and tickled me with her tail. ‘It’s harmless, Alfie, honestly.’ I certainly wasn’t convinced. ‘Well, you don’t get many hens in London,’ I huffed, stalking away.

  We were somewhere called ‘the country’, and very nice it was too. We were staying in a house in the middle of nowhere, with nothing around for miles except fields. My family – Jonathan, Claire and Summer – and Snowball’s family, the Snells – Karen, Tim, Daisy and Christopher – had rented a house for a week, and they had brought both me and Snowball with them. Cats don’t normally go on holiday so we felt very lucky. When I told my friends, the neighbourhood cats, they were shocked, but we were having a lovely time so far and I thought that perhaps us cats should holiday more often. A change is as good as a rest, my first owner, Margaret, used to say, and she was right – it was just what the vet ordered.

  The house itself was large, with five bedrooms, and there was a lovely open fire in the living room, which Snowball and I curled up in front of in the evenings. It was very romantic – although we had to be careful as sparks jumped out every now and then, once nearly singeing Snowball’s beautiful white tail.

  We had been told that, if we went out, we mustn’t leave the garden. Our humans were worried about us getting lost – as if that would happen – but so far we had obediently stuck to exploring said garden and doing as we were told. It was a good size; pretty, with lots of interesting bushes and flowerbeds. There was enough to keep us occupied, as it was much bigger than the small back garden I had to put up with in London. However, beyond the garden, where the chickens lived, was the lure of some very lush fields. It was a big temptation for an inquisitive cat like me.

  Snowball was less impressed. She’d been a rich cat before she moved to Edgar Road (my street in London), and her family had had an enormous garden in their old house in the country. She didn’t boast about it anymore, but when we first met (a time when she had done her best to be rude to me) she did a bit. But anyway, I had won her over and captured her heart and we’d been together for two years now. The best two years of my cat life.

  People always seemed surprised by our relationship at first, but then cats can fall in love just as easily as humans, if not more so. I should know, as I’ve had an awful lot of experience of humans.

  Being a doorstep cat, I have a wide variety of humans I call family. I visit more than one home and have many ‘owners’. As well and Claire and Jonathan, I regularly spend time with Polly and Matt and their two children, Henry and Martha, and my Polish family, Franceska, big Tomasz and their children, Aleksy and little Tomasz. I am one busy cat.

  I’ve managed to bring my families together so they are all the closest of friends. In my time with them, on Edgar Road and beyond, I’ve seen so much change. Humans seem to change a lot, or at least their lives do, and us cats are often the bystanders that have to sort out the inevitable debris. I take care of my humans, it’s what I do, and I’ve seen the ups and downs, the good and bad, and even the downright ugly, but I have always taken my role of looking after my families very seriously.

  ‘We ought to go in, I’m getting hungry,’ I said to Snowball, licking my lips. I could have almost eaten the hen, had it not been so formidable. But then I’m not much of a hunter, and neither is Snowball; she’s far too beautiful to kill anything. I still remember how mesmerised I felt when I first laid eyes on her. Even now, after two years, I am one smitten kitten – or smitten cat, more accurately.

  ‘Race you back,’ she said, giving herself a head start. I bounded after her and we arrived at the open back door at the same time, both slightly breathless from the run.

  ‘Ah, there you two are,’ said Claire, smiling at me as we padded into the kitchen. Summer, who was two and a half years old, was balanced on her hip. Claire put a bowl down on the highchair and wrestled Summer expertly into the seat as she wriggled in protest. Summer, my human sister, was what Claire called a ‘madam’ and what Jonathan called ‘spirited’. Although she could sometim
es be a pain, and tried to pull my tail a bit too often for my liking, I loved her very much. And she compensated with some lovely cuddles.

  Summer smiled, picked up her spoon and threw it on the floor. She never tired of this game, although in my opinion she was old enough to know better.

  ‘Toast,’ she said, in her lispy voice.

  ‘Eat your porridge, then you can have toast,’ Claire replied sternly.

  ‘NO!’ Summer screamed, throwing her bowl of porridge on the floor. As usual, I had been standing too close to her highchair, and I carefully licked some of the stray porridge from my fur. When would I ever learn?

  Summer was my charge, I felt. I had to look after her, even when she was being a madam. It amused Jonathan, our dad, who said he liked a woman with a strong will. I did too, which is why I liked Snowball and my best cat friend, Tiger. However, Claire found it a bit annoying, I think, although since having Summer she was so happy that I didn’t worry about her too much anymore. Not like I did before anyway.

  When I first came to live with Claire she had just got divorced, and she was quite broken. It took a lot of time and effort to put her back together. But then eventually she met Jonathan, one of my other humans, and now they are happily married with their child, Summer, completing our family.

  ‘Alfie, Snowball, breakfast,’ sang Daisy, Snowball’s teenage owner, putting bowls of tuna down for us.

  ‘Miaow,’ I thanked her. Daisy was beautiful – tall and lovely. She and Snowball actually looked alike in that they both had almost white fur – or hair, in Daisy’s case. Since Daisy had turned eighteen she’d been working as a model. She was becoming fairly successful already, and that was why she’d come on holiday. She might be too busy to come away with her family in the future, if all went to plan, so she needed to take the chance while she could. Snowball missed her when she was working but was very proud of her, which was touching.

  Christopher, Daisy’s sixteen-year-old brother, sat at the table eyeing Summer suspiciously, making sure he was far enough away from her to avoid being hit by any food. He was much more sensible than me.

  As I enjoyed my breakfast, I basked in happiness. Although my other families weren’t sharing my holiday, it was almost perfect. I had all the other people I loved around me and of course my beloved Snowball. As the humans ate their breakfasts, happily chatting and making plans for the day, I couldn’t help but feel my heart swell. Life didn’t get much better than this.

  After breakfast, the sun slowly emerged, heating the morning into a warm spring day. Summer was playing with some teddy bears on a picnic blanket in the garden, whilst Claire and Karen sat beside her, drinking tea and chatting. Daisy had gone for a run and the men and Christopher had gone to the local town to do some grocery shopping – although Claire said they’d really gone to find a pub. Meanwhile, Snowball and I were relaxing, sprawled out on a warm patch of grass.

  ‘This is the life.’ I stretched my paws out and rolled onto my back, letting the sun warm my fur.

  ‘It really is,’ Snowball replied.‘Shall we go and see if we can find some butterflies to chase?’

  I didn’t need asking twice.

  This place was certainly different than London. Not only were there more animals around, but there was a sort of peacefulness that I hadn’t really experienced before. And the wonderful thing was that it was rubbing off on all of us. All the humans seemed relaxed, which was nice because that didn’t happen often in London; they were usually too preoccupied with work and other stresses. We had all been through some trying times in the last few years; my humans had faced many challenges. Adjusting to life in a new country, trying to have babies, post-natal depression, bullying at school, secrets, heartache – you name it, we’d been through it. I’ve been with them through each experience and have helped to resolve many problems, if I do say so myself. I think the problems brought my families closer together, and it was nice to see that we had finally entered a harmonious phase. Long may it last.

  Snowball and I found a flowerbed, which looked as good a place as any to find butterflies.

  We sat silently, side by side. We were so happy together that we often didn’t need words. I actually felt as if I knew what Snowball was thinking, and vice versa. In the event, there were no butterflies, but we both dived into the flowerbed when a noisy bee appeared. We tried to lay low as the bee took what it needed from its chosen flower. I knew bees were good – I’d heard enough people saying that – but if you got too close, a sting could be pretty nasty. After the bee buzzed off we rolled around, enjoying the sun and the soft scents of the flowers. It was a pretty romantic time.

  ‘Alfie, being on holiday with you is the best thing I’ve ever done,’ Snowball purred, putting her paw on mine. I felt quite emotional as I looked at my love.

  ‘It’s the best thing I’ve ever done, too,’ I replied – and I meant it with all my heart.

  Chapter Two

  Summer was playing ball with Christopher. Although he treated her with suspicion when she had food, he could be quite good with her at other times.

  ‘Throw the ball, Sum,’ Chris said. Summer clutched it to her chest and shook her head. She then put it on the ground and sat on it. Christopher laughed. I went over to her and nudged the ball with my paw. Summer giggled and wobbled, rolling off it. She laughed as I lay next to her on the grass, tickling her with my tail. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jonathan approaching us.

  ‘Honestly, neither of you will play for Chelsea at this rate,’ he said, laughing. He scooped Summer up and swung her around.

  ‘Jon, she’s just had breakfast, she’ll be sick,’ Claire said, joining them. I stood up and stretched, brushing some grass off my fur with my tongue.

  ‘Sorry.’ Jonathan rolled his eyes. I gave him a conspiratorial look; Claire did fuss sometimes.

  ‘Ready?’ she asked.

  Jonathan nodded. ‘Right. Alfie, Snowball, we’re off for a day trip, so you guys need to stay here and keep out of trouble.’ He looked at me when he said the last bit.

  ‘Miaow,’ I said, indignantly.

  ‘Do you think it’ll be OK to leave the back door open?’ Tim asked as he went to put some bags into one of the cars.

  ‘Don’t see why not, it’s pretty deserted here,’ Jonathan said.

  ‘Gosh, I love that we can do that. We’d never be able to on Edgar Road would we?’ said Karen. She and Tim exchanged a look; I wondered if they were thinking about their old homes, as Snowball sometimes did. I would catch her with a faraway look in her eyes, and as much as I knew she was happy, she did miss it. I understood – I still missed my first home at times and, although I loved my home and all my families now, I would never forget it. It wasn’t bad to miss things, I realised. Although it meant you had lost something or someone, it also meant you loved them in the first place. It was hard, but that was how life worked.

  We sat by the stone steps that led up to the back door as we watched our families go out for the day. I was quite excited, as it meant a day for us to have our own adventures without worrying about the humans for once.

  ‘Do you think we should go and explore a bit?’ Snowball asked.

  ‘Well, the humans said we shouldn’t in case we get lost,’ I replied. I was sometimes a foolhardy cat, but the last thing I wanted to do was get lost in the country. I might never be able to find my way back home!

  ‘Oh, come on, let’s live a bit. And anyway, I’ve got a good sense of direction.’ Snowball nuzzled me, which meant she knew I was going to give in. However, I couldn’t forget the time that she had got horribly lost, and I had had to launch a rescue mission as a result. I didn’t dare mention it though – I wasn’t looking for an argument or for Snowball to sulk, which she was rather good at when she was cross.

  ‘OK then, let’s go.’ After all, I told myself, what could go wrong?

  We headed out of the garden for the first time and into the neighbouring field. The long grass pleasantly tickled my legs as we ran th
rough it side by side. There were insects buzzing around us, and as we travelled further from the house, we found some more chickens. These ones were actually quite friendly, clucking and scratching at the ground as we crept near them. I got quite close to one actually, trying to demonstrate my bravery, although inside I was like cat-food-in-jelly.

  We went through another field and jumped onto a fence.

  ‘Are your legs OK?’ Snowball asked gently as she saw me grimace. I had an old injury that sometimes affected my back legs, but they weren’t too bad, despite the odd twinge.

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’m fine, thanks.’ I jumped down from the fence smoothly to show her that I was all right. Then, feeling my confidence growing, I ran into the field. I was having a lovely time, the wind in my fur, the sun gently smiling down at us. I could get used to living in the country, I thought. Little did I know I was about to get a rude awakening.

  ‘Moo,’ a voice said angrily.

  ‘Yelp!’ I screamed, stopping suddenly. I found myself level with a leg, and as I looked up I started shaking. I was facing a monster, and he didn’t look happy to see me. He stared down at me with big, dark eyes, snorting loudly.‘Yelp,’ I screamed again.

  ‘Snort,’ the monster said, sounding angry. I realised that he was unhappy about us being in his field. He started to stomp and, as I saw the grass being flattened, I started to imagine being squashed beneath those big hooves. He shook his head, violently, as he eyeballed me again. Surely he was about to pounce. I managed to spring back, bouncing off Snowball and back in front of the cow again.

  He lifted his head, snorted loudly again and swished his long tail from side to side.

  ‘It’s OK, Alfie.’ Snowball was beside me. At the sight of her the monster seemed a bit less aggressive. She gently led me a safe distance away.‘It’s just a cow,’ she continued.‘They’re big, and seem aggressive, I know, but they’re really quite gentle.’

  I had never seen a cow this close up before and it seemed anything but gentle to me.