A Cat Called Alfie. Rachel Wells

Alfie,’ he said absently, wearing his navy dressing gown. He made straight for the kitchen and his coffee machine. I had learnt that he was a bit of a nightmare in the mornings before he had a cup of coffee. He pulled out cups and I miaowed hopefully.

      ‘OK, hang on, I’ll get you some more smoked salmon, but don’t tell Claire.’ I purred in agreement.

      ‘What are you doing here?’ I asked, as Tiger appeared in the kitchen just as I was cleaning myself. ‘Claire and Jonathan are getting ready for work, they’ll be down any minute,’ I hissed.

      ‘Quick, Alfie, I have something to show you.’ She looked very pleased with herself; smug even.

      ‘What?’

      ‘Come with me, and you’ll see. I have a present for you, a very special present.’

      ‘Wow,’ I said as I sat outside number 48 with Tiger. We crept into the front garden, to see if we could get a closer look. Lights were on in the house, we could hear footsteps and when we looked through the window furtively, we saw even more boxes had been unpacked. They had finally moved in. And I fleetingly wondered if our nosey neighbours had been right; they had moved in when no one was around to see them. What was that about?

      ‘I told you, Alfie. They weren’t here when I went to bed last night, but when I got up this morning and went for a stroll they were!’ She sounded excited.

      ‘They must have come in the night like the boxes,’ I mused.

      ‘I guess. Anyway, look.’ Tiger led me round the back. We found a bush to hide in, to survey the situation. Through the back patio doors into the kitchen I could see a woman, a bit older than Claire, her hair greying slightly. She was thin and looked harassed as, hair tied back, she was still busily unpacking. After a while she was joined by a man we had seen before; the thin almost bald man. He kissed her and she smiled sadly at him. He was wearing jeans and a shirt and he didn’t look as if he was exactly happy either.

      ‘So there’s two people?’ I asked.

      ‘No, I think there’s more. When I came by this morning, I saw someone younger.’

      ‘I’m surprised Salmon isn’t here, spying.’

      ‘Thank goodness he isn’t. Look!’

      I saw a teenage boy enter the kitchen. He was wearing jeans and a hoody and he looked a bit moody. He sat down at the kitchen table, but didn’t appear to speak. His mother (I guessed), went over to him and planted a kiss on his head but he acted as if he didn’t even notice.

      ‘He doesn’t look very nice,’ I observed.

      ‘He’s a teenager. I think in general they aren’t very nice. Well my owners say they aren’t. Apparently they are mainly what is wrong with this country.’

      ‘Really?’ I hadn’t had much experience of teenagers, so I found this fascinating.

      ‘Yes, they are lazy and slovenly and don’t care about the world. That’s what they say anyway.’

      ‘But you’ve never had a teenager?’ I asked her.

      ‘No, but my family have a couple of friends who have teenage children. They grunt rather than speak and they never say thank you, apparently.’

      ‘Sounds horrible.’

      ‘Yes, but then they grow up and get better, or some of them do.’

      ‘Well that’s something, but I’m already dreading the day that Aleksy becomes one.’

      ‘I know, imagine if he’s just like that boy there.’ We both grimaced.

      As we looked, a very pretty blonde girl walked into the kitchen. We retreated slightly as she came over to the floor length windows we were looking through. She looked older than the surly boy, so perhaps she had outgrown this teenage thing. She was tall, taller than her mum, but shorter than her dad. She had beautiful blue eyes but when I looked properly there was something missing from them; she looked distant as she stood in her new home and I had seen that look before. More than once.

      What was it with Edgar Road?

      After a little while, Tiger got bored and started trying to pull leaves off a bush, but I was mesmerized by the house. People called houses homes but I also thought they were places that contained stories, both happy and sad, and that was what drew me to them.

      ‘Can we go now?’ she asked having resorted to looking at her own paw.

      ‘Not yet,’ I hissed. ‘I just want to see a bit more.’

      ‘Alfie, you and this obsession with humans. Really!’ She rolled her eyes as a leaf came loose and landed on her head.

      ‘It’s more sensible than your obsession with leaves,’ I shot back, staring pointedly at the pile of leaves she’d collected at her feet.

      ‘Is not,’ Tiger replied, looking sulky.

      ‘Anyway, we can go soon, I just want to see if it’s just the four of them. If it is, then it might not be a bad bet. Another house for me to visit. They might like having a cat around, in any case and there’s a nice big kitchen for me to eat in.’

      ‘Oh Alfie, you have enough families who love and take care of you, when will you accept that? And besides, that teenage boy might not like you.’ Tiger looked exasperated from having to repeat herself so much.

      ‘My first owner, Margaret, always used to say this thing, Tiger.’ I paused as I pictured the kind old lady that I had loved with my whole heart. ‘She used to say “We must never rest on our laurels.” Now I don’t exactly know what it means but I think it means that I shouldn’t take anything for granted. I once said I would never do that again. And it wouldn’t hurt you to take a lesson from me.’

      ‘I’m too lazy. If anything happens to my humans I know you’ll sort it out.’ She smiled, and of course she was right. It was the sort of cat I was.

      A noise startled us.

      ‘Oh my, we hadn’t even noticed that,’ Tiger said as a cat flap slowly lifted up from the other back door.

      ‘And bang goes my idea of being their doorstep cat,’ I murmured, disappointment flooding me. We both stood, stock still as we watched a cat emerge.

      ‘Wow,’ I said, unable to contain myself.

      ‘Well,’ Tiger said, instantly lost for words.

      ‘Who are you and what are you doing in my garden?’ an unfriendly voice hissed and I felt myself glued to the spot as I found myself staring at the most beautiful cat I had ever seen in my life.

       - CHAPTER -

       Six

      ‘Who are you?’ the beauty hissed angrily at us. I wanted to move, or speak or something but I was rooted to the spot and struck dumb.

      ‘We,’ Tiger replied, feistily, ‘are your neighbours. I’m Tiger and that’s Alfie and we are here to welcome you to Edgar Road.’

      I glanced sideways at Tiger, she neither looked nor sounded very welcoming.

      ‘Right, well now you’ve welcomed me, you may leave.’ The exquisite creature stood in front of us. I had never seen such soft fur, bluer eyes or a whiter coat. Her face was like a work of art. She was truly gorgeous, although, admittedly, not at all friendly.

      ‘But we … we … we could show you round,’ I stammered, feeling my legs trembling, in an alien sensation.

      ‘Thank you but I think I’ll find my own way round. I don’t care to ask you again, but would you please get out of my garden.’