Suddenly, my excitement increased as I spotted what looked like a cat bed.
‘Oh George, I think a cat lives here,’ I said. Which of course meant the owners probably wouldn’t want another two cats but this cat could maybe be our new friend, which was even better. You could never have too many friends. We craned our necks a bit further and I spotted a tail. Quite an interestingly patterned tail. As the cat turned to face us, we both gasped. This cat’s fur had white, black and light brown markings, a pretty tail, pointed black and brown ears and exotic features. It was fairly small and sleek and I had never seen a cat quite like it, definitely unusual. I guessed she was female as she looked far too pretty to be a male, and she was a good few years younger than me but perhaps a similar age to George.
‘Wow, she looks lovely,’ George said. I raised my whiskers. I didn’t want him getting a crush on her just yet, not until we knew her character. George had developed quite a thing for a cat when we’d spent our first summer in Devon. Chanel was the meanest cat I’d ever met, but George had been smitten and he’d pined for her all summer. His crush had also led to the near drowning of her, him and Jonathan, but thankfully they’d all survived. I wasn’t sure I was ready to cope with that again, just yet.
‘Perhaps we’ll wait until we meet her, eh George,’ I said. ‘You can’t keep falling in love with just looks you know, personality matters.’
‘Oh don’t worry, Dad, I’m not planning on falling in love with her. After Chanel I’m pretty much off girls for good.’
If only I could believe that.
We watched for a while longer, but there wasn’t much to see. Boxes being unpacked. The girl putting her phone down and petting the cat. They seemed serious and perhaps a bit sad too; being quite an intuitive cat I picked that up. We weren’t spotted and, after a while, George got bored and begged me to take him to the park. I reluctantly tore myself away, I was curious and I wanted to know more. They say curiosity killed the cat but not this one, no, curiosity is my middle name. Although not literally.
George went to play with Summer and Toby upstairs after the children had their tea. It was like having three children in the family. Toby and George had a special bond; Toby was adopted, like George in a way, and they both slept in the same bad every night, and had done since Toby came to live with us when George was tiny. Summer was younger, bossier and a ‘madam’, according to Claire, but she could pretty much do no wrong in my eyes. I loved all the children and part of my job was taking care of them.
I padded into the kitchen to see if there was any sign of dinner. Claire was cooking, and Jonathan had just got home from work. He was sitting at the kitchen table with a beer. My food bowl was still empty.
‘Oh Jon, can you feed the cats?’ Claire asked. ‘I think Alfie’s after some food.’
‘Meow.’ I was.
‘Sure, I’ll give them some left-over roast chicken,’ he replied as I licked my lips.
‘You really do spoil them,’ Claire said, almost chastising him but not quite. Thank goodness he did, otherwise we had to settle for food that came out of pouches. There was nothing wrong with it, but it wasn’t quite the same. For a cat I did have a pretty sophisticated palate and a love of fine dining.
I started eating, knowing George would be down later, but I was hungry. As I lapped my food, I listened to the easy conversation between Claire and Jonathan.
‘I was talking to Frankie and Polly about Christmas earlier,’ she started.
‘Already?’ Jonathan pretended to be not the biggest fan of Christmas, but deep down he loved it, especially with the children. We all loved it, and I pricked my ears as it sounded like news.
‘Jon, it’s less than two months away and you know how quickly it’ll come round. Anyway, we were saying that perhaps this year we can spend the day together, here.’
‘We were saying?’ Jonathan raised an eyebrow.
‘OK, I was. I was thinking about Devon, but then Matt has to work between Christmas and New Year, so they literally only have two days off and Frankie said it would be very nice to have Christmas in London.’
When Tomasz and Franceska had first arrived from Poland they had very little, but they worked hard, especially Tomasz and now he owns four restaurants. Not on his own – he has partners and Franceska works with him now the children are older. They are doing very well and I am incredibly proud of them. They also introduced me to sardines which remain, to this day, my second favourite fish.
‘I haven’t even spoken to work about time off yet, but I’m happy for Christmas in London.’
‘And Frankie said they would do all the side dishes, I’ll do the turkey and Polly will make the pudding.’
‘You mean she’ll buy it,’ Jonathan replied.
‘Well yes, we know Polly’s not much of a cook, but at least it’ll be from Waitrose.’
I licked my lips. Christmas dinner was one of my favourite meals. I even liked some vegetables, which Claire said was very unusual for a cat. I think cats, in my experience, like a far wider variety of food than anyone gives them credit for.
‘And it’ll be nice to be together,’ Claire said wistfully. Her parents went to Spain every year for Christmas now, where her brother lived, and Jonathan wasn’t close to his family, so our friends were our family. It wasn’t a bad family at all.
‘The excitement levels of Summer and Toby will be cranked up this year.’
‘Oh, Summer is already talking about what she wants. Although I ought to warn you, she wants a baby.’
‘A doll?’
‘No, for us to have another baby.’
Jonathan choked on his beer, his face turning a funny colour. ‘What did you say?’
‘I said that we had a lovely family already and, as Santa knew that, he’d probably not be able to send us a baby, and she then said perhaps a talking doll would do instead.’
‘Thank God for that.’ Jonathan started to return to a normal-ish colour. ‘It’s not just beyond Santa’s remit, it’s way beyond mine,’ he said.
‘Don’t worry darling, our family is perfect and I don’t want to change a thing,’ Claire said, going over to kiss him. Warmth flooded me as I let the feeling of happiness wash over me. Then I went to tell George it was time to wash his paws in time for dinner.
A parent’s work was never done.
Later that night, when George was tucked up with Toby and Summer was fast asleep, I set out to see my girlfriend Tiger. She lives just down the road and we usually met up most evenings, weather permitting – she’s even more of a fair-weather cat than I am – to watch the moon and chat about our day. We would also bring up any worries we had about George. We were parents first, which is what had prompted our friendship to develop into something more.
I sat on her back doorstep and meowed, which normally means she comes out. But she didn’t. I pushed the cat flap with my nose then waited but nothing. I couldn’t go in, her humans weren’t too keen on other cats in their house, although they tolerated George but not me. I guessed she had probably fallen asleep. Tiger wasn’t always the most active of cats.
I was about to give up and head home but I couldn’t resist going for one last look at our neighbours. As before, I found myself peering through the back doors, the house was fairly dark. But sitting at the table in the kitchen was the woman, in front of her was a glass of wine, and on her lap was the cat. The cat had her back to me, so no one noticed as I watched. The woman picked the glass up slowly and took a drink, before carefully placing it back on the table, and pushing her hair out of her eyes. I saw her head fall as she stroked the cat, and I saw what I thought were tears glistening in the darkness. Even from outside it was as if I could feel her sadness, her pain. I went home wondering what her story was, their story, and why she was upset. But I knew that somehow and at some point I would get to the bottom of it.