Alfie the Christmas Cat Read online

  ‘Oh Doris, it’s so cute,’ Claire said, beaming.

  ‘Perfect fit,’ Clive said.

  ‘It’s adorable. Doris, will you teach me to do knitting?’ Summer asked.

  ‘Of course I will, my dear.’ Doris’s cheeks flushed with pleasure.

  My eyes widened. I couldn’t believe it. It was terrible. It made his head look like a tomato. Thank goodness I didn’t have one.

  ‘Don’t worry, Alfie, I’ll have one for you next time I’m here, but your head is a bit bigger, so I need to get more wool. And thinking about it, green might be your colour.’

  I had no words as I slunk off to see if there were any more leftovers.

  That night, when George and I took our last steps outside before bed – without his cat hat, I may add – we looked at the dark sky and saw the brightest star blinking at us.

  ‘There’s Tiger mum,’ George said, lifting his paw.

  ‘Yes.’ I gulped. Despite the fact that it had been quite a while since we’d lost Tiger – George’s adopted mum and my last partner – it still floored me whenever I thought of her not being here anymore. We have both moved on in many ways, the way life forces you to, but although I am happy and with Snowball now, I will always have a place in my heart reserved for Tiger. She was my best cat friend on Edgar Road before we fell in love.

  I’ve loved and lost a lot in my life, both humans and cats, and you never stop missing them, a lesson I have learnt the hard way. But on the flip side, a heart is a wonderful thing. It’s big and has the capacity to love many people and many cats. I even managed to love Pickles, who is a dog, and I never thought I’d hear myself saying that. Despite the fact I’m now reunited with Snowball – who was my first love, before Tiger – I miss Tiger. And that’s fine, because as I said, the heart is a miracle and it’s big enough for all it needs to be big enough for. It allows you to miss those you’ve lost and still love those who are with you.

  ‘She’d be so proud of you, son,’ I said, because it was true. She would.

  ‘I know, Dad,’ George replied.

  I think he gets his modesty from me.

  ‘Right, lad, let’s go to bed.’ I started to make my way inside, giving the star one last glance. It seemed to blink at me. I blinked back.

  We probably had a big week ahead of us, we had a lot of people and cats to check on so there was always a list of things to do. Especially as I worried about Tommy; I had to be on alert.

  ‘Before we go to bed, Dad, what am I going to do with that awful bonnet that Doris gave me?’

  ‘Well the polite thing would be to wear it when she is here, at least for a bit.’

  ‘But it’s scratchy. I was thinking I could bury it in the garden, blame it on Pickles.’

  ‘George, that’s not nice.’

  ‘But the hat isn’t nice.’

  ‘I know, but we do these things to make people happy and if you have to wear it for a short time, every now and then to make Doris smile, is that so terrible?’

  He glared at me and then he raised his whiskers.

  ‘I guess not, especially as you’ll have one as well next time.’ I could hear him laughing as I followed him into the house.

  Chapter Three

  Humans will never cease to amaze me. In the morning, our house springs to life in a very dramatic way. There’s shouting, jostling, arguments, and occasionally tears. Jonathan gets ready for work – normally with maximum fuss as he seems unable to find anything. Claire rouses the children from their beds (the tears are usually theirs), then she feeds us cats and prepares breakfast for everyone before going to get dressed. Toby rushes downstairs as if there’s a fire, and Summer sulks as she hates mornings these days. Claire fires questions at everyone: ‘Have you got much on at work today? Have you done your homework? Do you need your PE kit? Why won’t you eat your toast …’ You get the idea. George and I eat our breakfast and then attempt to escape before the madness of trying to get everyone out of the house begins. Trust me, it’s chaos. Jonathan leaves first, rushing out, often moaning about where his keys are even though they are always in the same place. Summer takes forever getting her shoes on, Claire gets exasperated as she repeats the same thing over and over, and Toby gets cross about being late, because he hates being late. The thing is, this happened every single weekday morning. Every single one. You would think they would learn, but no. Humans! Who’d have them?

  If only they could be more like us. George and I get up, have a good stretch and a quick wash before we have our breakfast, then we have a more thorough clean up and we’re ready for the day. Totally fuss free.

  I know that our house isn’t unique. Polly and Matt, with Henry and Martha, have the same situation. George says that our next door neighbours, including Hana, are far more organised than our family, and definitely not as shouty. But Sylvie has just had baby Theo, so she doesn’t go to work, and her partner Marcus is actually very calm. As for Connie, she’s more sensible than any of the grown-ups put together, so she manages to get herself to school. The main noise is caused by Theo, who basically ensures none of them get enough sleep – I can vouch for that as I remember when Summer was a baby. We were all sleep deprived and grumpy in the mornings as a result. But like Summer, Theo will grow out of it and start sleeping at some point. When George was a tiny kitten it took him a while to learn to sleep at night as well, actually, thinking about it.

  Back to ours. George and I gave them a wide berth until they were all safely out of the house. After snatching a few moments’ peace and quiet after they were gone, our day could begin.

  ‘I’m going to Hana’s,’ George said. Since the baby, Hana had been happier to go for walks than normal. Hana was from Japan, and she was a house cat when she moved with Sylvie and Connie next door to us on Edgar Road. After trying for ages, we managed to get her to go outside but she only liked it when it was warm. However, since Theo’s arrival, she seemed to prefer the cold to staying at home all day long. I didn’t go with George and Hana on their morning walks because it was the cat equivalent of a date for them and who wanted their parents to go on a date with them? No one, that’s who.

  Despite the fact it was a cold and breezy day, I decided to go and visit Tomasz, Franceska, Aleksy and Tommy. They lived in Edgar Road when I first moved there, but for a few years now, they’d lived next door to one of the restaurants they’d opened. They had come over from Poland, worked hard, and now had a number of popular restaurants, which provided great food. And I should know, as I am sometimes one of their chief tasters.

  I assumed that Aleksy and Tommy would be at school, and Tomasz and Franceska would probably be working in the restaurant, so I hoped I might get a snack, and could see my cat friend Dustbin who worked for them. He was a bit of a feral cat, with a big heart and we had been friends for years. He kept the rodent population by the restaurant under control – not a job I would like by the way, but he loved his work. He was totally dedicated. I was still a bit worried about Tommy. He wasn’t himself on family day – understatement – and Franceska and Tomasz were obviously upset, so I wanted to see if I could gather as much information as possible about the situation, before I came up with a plan to sort it out.

  I felt the wind in my fur as I ran through the back alley to the yard. Dustbin was there, licking his paws – probably after another successful rodent control – with his friend Ally, whom he was loath to call his girlfriend, although she was.

  ‘Hey Alfie,’ he said as he spotted me. His whiskers were raised and he sounded pleased to see me.

  ‘Dustbin, Ally,’ I said in greeting.

  ‘What brings you here in the cold?’ Ally said. She always teased me, calling me a spoilt cat with my warm homes and numerous humans to pamper me. Who was I to argue? I loved my life. But I wasn’t that fair weather, as I’ve already said. I even went out in snow. I felt my fur shiver at the thought of snow, but it might not be too far away now. Snow made me think of Christmas, and Snowball, who was as white as snow – hence her n
ame.

  ‘I thought I’d brave it in order to see my two good friends,’ I replied, with a grin. I liked Ally, but she had taken a bit of winning over. She wasn’t used to being friends with ‘pampered’ cats.

  ‘Good to see you, Alfie. Here to catch up on the news?’ Dustbin asked. He kept me abreast of the goings on with my third family, as he saw them far more often than I did.

  ‘Is there news about Tommy?’ I raised my whiskers.

  ‘Well, yes, I’m afraid there is,’ Dustbin said, sounding serious.

  ‘Oh no.’ I felt my heart sink. Whereas Aleksy – who happened to be my first ever human child friend – was sensitive, serious, and a hard worker, his younger brother Tommy was the opposite. He was a good kid but he did get into trouble. Once, when George was a kitten, he sneaked him to church with the family, another time he snuck him into the younger children’s Nativity play and put him in the manger, replacing the doll that was supposed to be the baby Jesus. That even made the local newspaper. But you get the idea. He was mischievous rather than bad, I liked to think. Although, if family lunch had been anything to go by, he was now transitioning to bad.

  ‘He’s still not doing his homework, he’s had so many detentions, he’s getting bad grades, and being rude to his teachers. He stays up late – we see his light on, playing games and he even fell asleep in class the other day. The school have called in his parents this week to have a serious talk about him, I’m sorry to say,’ Dustbin explained.

  ‘Oh dear.’ I knew that this would be very stressful for Tomasz and Franceska. And, although I adore Tommy, he can be his own worst enemy. His parents work so hard and are such good people, I wasn’t happy at the idea of him worrying them so much. I didn’t want him in trouble either, it never ended well. I realised that I would need to get involved.

  ‘Franceska said he’s still grounded and he’s mad because you know how he likes to go hang out with his friends. Aleksy is trying to keep the peace but he can’t really say anything to his brother right now, and Tomasz even said that Tommy was going off the rails and needed taking in hand.’

  ‘What are they going to do?’ I asked. I had taught Dustbin well. When we first met he was more interested in rodents than people. Look how far he’d come.

  ‘They don’t know. Tomasz has said Tommy has to start working in the restaurant, washing dishes to keep him out of trouble, and Tommy said that is unfair, but I have a feeling it might get worse before it gets better, Alfie.’

  ‘Poor Aleksy is trying,’ Ally added. She had also become an asset. ‘But he doesn’t know how to get through to Tommy either. You hear the two of them arguing quite a lot. Tomasz was supposed to take him and Connie to the homeless shelter yesterday after school, but because they got called in to see Tommy’s teacher, Tomasz was late. They went in the end, but Aleksy accused Tommy of ruining things for everyone. Tommy said Aleksy was a “goody-goody” and Aleksy said Tommy will end up in jail if he carries on this way.’ My eyes widened. Surely it couldn’t be that bad?

  ‘I’ll have to think of something.’ I knew it would come down to me to try to find a way to fix this – most things did. I didn’t mind, it was my job. Dustbin kept the rodents under control, I kept the humans under control. I have to admit I think his job is easier though, even though I’m not keen on rodents.

  ‘I know you’ll come up with something,’ Dustbin said. ‘I hate to see Franceska so worried, Tomasz helpless … They think that if he doesn’t shape up he’s going to be in real trouble.’

  ‘Hmm. I get it. He’s always been a bit wild and he’s never liked school work the way Aleksy did … I’ll think about it, talk it over with Snowball maybe, see what we can come up with.’

  ‘Speaking of Snowball, how is she?’

  ‘Yes, she’s good. Harold has had a bad cold so she’s stayed in quite a lot to keep him company; she’s got such a good heart. I know sometimes she still misses her old family too but she and Harold are pretty close. And of course George is there a lot – and me – so she’s never really allowed to be down for long.’ Snowball used to live next door to us many years ago. Her family had moved away, which was sad for me, but just last year they had to go overseas and couldn’t take her with them, so she moved in with Harold. It was a wonderful surprise.

  ‘Life can throw a lot of changes at us, can’t it?’ Dustbin asked. He wasn’t wrong.

  ‘Goodness, if we went through all of them we’d be here all week. Right, shall we go and scratch at the door and see if they have any treats for us?’ I suggested. I had to think of a way to sort Tommy out, but before I even thought about coming up with an idea, I knew that it would be easier to do so once I had a full tummy.

  I always managed to think better after food.

  After a little bit more time spent with Dustbin and Ally and some delicious plump sardines, I headed back to Edgar Road. As I entered through the cat flap I could tell the house was empty, and I wondered if George was still next door. After taking a quick rest, I went to see Snowball, who lived near the end of the road. Edgar Road is quite a big street, with different types of houses on it, and that means we have a lovely mix of people and cats. As I walked past Tiger’s old house – would I ever stop thinking of it like that, I wondered – I saw Oliver, the Barkers’ new cat in the window, though he was not so new now. I felt a pang and, as if sensing this, he raised a paw at me. I greeted him and walked on. I was happy the Barkers had got a cat after Tiger, but I also found it hard – the dichotomy of life. I knew they gave Oliver a good home and he was a splendid cat. And, of course, every cat deserved a loving home, but it was still hard to have a reminder of Tiger being gone every time I passed.

  I walked on, past the recreation ground where us cats met up, but no one was there. But then, the weather had turned quite horrible so my sensible cat friends were probably warm and cosy at home. I would see them soon though, I knew. We Edgar Road cats were quite the gang. I made it to Harold’s house, went round the back, and let myself in through the cat flap.

  Harold wasn’t a fan when he first met us, but George saved his life and now he liked cats more than people. Especially now he had Snowball. It hadn’t been easy for us at first, me and Snowball. Not only were we trying to see where our feelings were – she was my first love, after all – but also I had been with Tiger in between and, on top of that, George took against her because he felt she was trying to replace his mum. It took us a while for us all to figure out our relationship but we did, eventually, and we were all happy together now.

  This was illustrated by my finding George and Snowball together in the living room at Harold’s house. Harold sat in his favourite chair, watching some kind of war programme on the TV. Snowball was sat on one arm of the chair, George on Harold’s lap. They all looked so comfortable, I felt a pang. I stood and watched them for a moment, the two cats I loved so much together, and then Harold spotted me.

  ‘Ah Alfie, now I have a full house!’ He laughed. I jumped onto the other arm of his chair and lay down. None of us moved for a moment. We were there together and that was enough for now. More than enough, in fact, as we all purred with contentment.

  Chapter Four

  By the time George and I returned home, the house was full again. I hadn’t had the chance to tell Snowball about Tommy yet; George was present, and I didn’t want to worry him until I had a chance to think it through a bit more – that was parenting for you. You tried to protect your children, although I had learnt you can’t protect them from everything.

  We went through the cat flap and into the hallway where Pickles, Polly and Matt’s pug, waddled up and licked us both.

  ‘Oh, hey Pickles,’ George said, as he used his paw to wipe where Pickles had licked. I followed suit. Pickles licked everything and you could never be sure quite where that tongue had been.

  ‘How are you?’ I asked. My role with Pickles was like an uncle; he didn’t have dog parents, so I took the responsibility of being the non-human figure of authority very seriously
. I’d known him since he was tiny, and often been in charge of looking after him, and I really was very fond of him. As was George, even though he didn’t always like to admit it. George saw him as an annoying younger sibling, I think. Pickles got me in a lot of trouble, but then most people and cats in my life did, so I was certainly used to it.

  ‘I’m so good,’ Pickles said, snuffling around to see if there was any stray food. I liked my food but I had nothing on Pickles. Polly was always putting him on a diet so he had to come up with more and more ways to sneak food. When it came to eating, there was no stopping him. ‘George, the kids are playing upstairs, will you come with me?’ Pickles asked, waggling his bottom with excitement. We could hear Toby, Summer, Henry, and Martha, laughing and shrieking.

  ‘OK.’ George tried to sound reluctant. He was so grown up now that he said the games they played with the younger kids were beneath him! However, I knew he secretly still loved it. I watched them both rush off then went into the living room where, to my delight, Polly, Franceska, Claire, and Sylvie were. Claire was clutching baby Theo, who seemed to be asleep.

  ‘I can’t believe he’s sleeping,’ Sylvie said, as if reading my mind. ‘He’s been terrible lately; I think it’s a growth spurt. Feeding all the time, not sleeping, it’s exhausting. If I knew that having a baby at my age would be so tough …’

  ‘You wouldn’t be without him though, would you?’ Polly asked.

  ‘No, of course not – I adore him. But Connie’s so much older, so I really had forgotten what it was like to have a newborn. Thankfully Marcus is great and supportive, but I’m conscious that he has to work.’

  ‘It’s a tough time, the first year,’ Claire said. ‘But also amazing. I sometimes look at Toby, who feels as if he’s been with us forever, and I feel guilty that I wasn’t the one to comfort him when he was this age.’ Claire sounded emotional. Toby was adopted by us when he was five. We don’t talk about his life before and neither does he anymore. Now he’s been with us, such a huge part of our family for years, it’s as if he was always here. I kind of know what Claire means though.