A Cat Called Alfie. Rachel Wells

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.

      ‘What are you doing?’ Salmon asked, narrowing his eyes at us.

      ‘We were just having a chat,’ Tiger replied, staring at him. She was the least afraid of Salmon. Nellie was almost hiding behind Elvis and Rocky looked as if he wanted to run away. Even I felt a bit uneasy as Salmon bared his sharp teeth.

      ‘We were talking about the new people at number forty-eight,’ I explained, trying to feel in control.

      ‘Oh well, that’s boring,’ Salmon said nastily.

      ‘Only because you don’t know anything,’ Tiger spat back. I admired her bullishness at times.

      ‘If I did, I wouldn’t tell you,’ Salmon huffed then, hissing nastily at us, he stalked off.

      ‘I hate that cat,’ Tiger said. We all silently agreed as we spent the afternoon chasing birds, in order to forget the unpleasantness.

      I met Jonathan at the front door as I made it home. I was pleased my timing was so good, as I was pretty hungry after my day’s activities. I didn’t go into being a doorstep cat to be greedily eating all the time, but at the same time I did enjoy my food. What cat didn’t?

      ‘Hi, mate,’ Jonathan said, and I rubbed against his suit trousers, which I knew used to annoy him – apparently I left hair behind – but he was more tolerant with me these days. It had only taken three years. ‘Coming in for dinner? I’ve got you some fresh sardines from the deli, but don’t tell Claire. Luckily she’s at her book club, so it’s boys’ night in.’

      I miaowed as I followed him into the house. This was a good result. A perfect result in actual fact.

      Jonathan tipped my dinner into a bowl for me and then he went upstairs to take a shower. While Claire favoured packets of ‘cat’ food, Jonathan always gave me a finer dining experience. They disagreed about it but on this issue neither of them would budge. I obviously preferred it when Jonathan fed me but I still loved Claire so I tried to be grateful at the ready meals she provided for me. I didn’t want to look as though I expected fine dining but I certainly wasn’t going to turn it down.

      When he came back downstairs, Jonathan was wearing his casual clothes – a T-shirt and jogging bottoms. He grabbed a beer out of the fridge and went into the living room flicking the TV on as he sank down onto the sofa. Jonathan and Claire were so different; he couldn’t be in the living room, without the TV being on, whereas Claire would often sit with a book rather than watch the square screen. I followed him in, licking myself clean after my delicious meal. Whilst Jonathan was flicking the TV channels, the doorbell chimed. As Jonathan went to open the door, I followed and was delighted to see Matt on the doorstep holding a pack of beers. Matt was Polly’s husband, a tall, quite handsome and very kind man. He and Jonathan had become good friends since my incident and the four of them often spent time together. I was often referred to as Cupid cat, as well as a cat who created friendships. It was a very good thing.

      ‘Free pass?’ Jonathan asked him, his voice slightly teasing.

      ‘Polly’s putting the children to bed, so I thought I’d see if you fancied a beer? And of course, the football’s on in a bit.’

      ‘Excellent. Come in.’

      As Matt petted me I congratulated myself on having done good work in bringing friendships together, and maybe when the family moved into number 48, they could become part of our little world too.

      I often hear people talking about love, family, relationships and friendships and when you see them working in real life you realize how much of human life hinges on other people. It’s not always a good thing though. People can make others happy but they can also make them sad. It is a very complicated concept to unravel. It’s different for cats of course, and sometimes people say cats are very self-sufficient, although most of us like being taken care of too.

      ‘So how’s work?’ Jonathan asked Matt.

      ‘Pretty good, busy but I’m working from home a bit more so I can help Pol out. What about you?’

      ‘You know I was so sceptical when I got my job. I thought the company was a bit rubbish, I thought it was beneath me. But it turns out to be the best move I ever made. Once I got over myself and threw myself into it, it’s all started going really well.’

      ‘Finally, it seems that life is good. So let’s drink to that.’ They clinked beer bottles. ‘Oh and by the way, mate, can you and Claire babysit for us on Saturday? I want to surprise Pol with a nice meal out.’

      ‘Sure, I don’t think we’ve got plans and anyway, it’s good practice.’

      ‘She’s not is she?’

      ‘No, well I don’t think so, not yet, but hopefully soon.’ Jonathan sounded unperturbed, unlike Claire, as he discussed the wanted pregnancy.

      Our cosy boys’ night was soon interrupted by the doorbell again. Jonathan groaned as he got up, and I followed him to the front door. He opened the door, coming face-to-face with Heather and Vic Goodwin, who stood smiling – or rather, grimacing – at him from the doorstep.

      ‘Jonathan, is Claire here?’ Vic asked. I looked behind Vic and Heather and saw that Salmon was with them, standing at my front gate. He aggressively flicked his tail up, I narrowed my eyes but decided to ignore him. Irritating cat. Mind you, irritating owners. They were older than my owners, both with grey hair. They lived in a smaller house, a bit like Matt and Polly’s, on the opposite side of the road to us. They always dressed in a similar way, and today they were both wearing navy blue jumpers with white shirt collars poking out from underneath. Vic