A Cat Called Alfie. Rachel Wells

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cat. When she had filled them in they turned to me.

      ‘What do you think?’ Tom asked, licking his whiskers.

      ‘She’s stunning,’ I began, but quickly had to duck as Tiger tried to swipe me. ‘But yes, definitely rude,’ I quickly added. A memory of how Jonathan first was when I met him sprang into my head; he threw me out of his house but he loves me now.

      ‘Well, I wonder if she’ll hang out with us.’ Nellie interrupted my thoughts.

      ‘I expect, from what we saw she’ll keep close to home,’ Tiger said, diplomatically.

      ‘I wish he’d stay close to home,’ Rocky added as Salmon approached.

      ‘I expected to find you here, you are all so boringly predictable. Have you met the new cat?’ Salmon asked, in his sneering voice. As much as he disliked us and we disliked him, he couldn’t resist trying to find out any gossip.

      ‘Yes,’ Tiger replied, refusing to give him more.

      ‘And you think you’re so great, but I have met her too,’ Salmon said.

      ‘And I bet she wouldn’t speak to you,’ I added narrowing my eyes at him and feeling braver for some reason.

      ‘Well, no she wouldn’t. The silly girl ran away as soon as she saw me.’ He sounded annoyed.

      ‘I don’t actually blame her for that,’ Tiger said. We all laughed. Salmon hissed at her and looked as if he was about to pounce.

      ‘Don’t be a silly cat,’ Tom said, standing next to Tiger. ‘Are you really going to take us all on?’ he added.

      ‘You aren’t worth it,’ Salmon hissed again before turning and stalking off.

      ‘I really dislike that cat,’ Rocky stated, echoing all our thoughts.

      Wanting to think, I took myself to the little park at the end of the street, leaving Tiger to go home. She said she was tired but I could tell she was still annoyed with me, and off for one of her customary sulks. I tried to give her a friendly nuzzle as we parted but she brushed me off. I thought I would do something nice for her later, even though I wasn’t sure exactly what I had done.

      When I got to the park I was delighted to see Polly there with the kids. Henry was on the slide and Martha was trying to walk but she kept falling over. I marvelled at her persistence as she kept getting up, with Polly encouraging her.

      ‘Alfie,’ Henry shouted, spotting me and running up to me. He knelt down and stroked me and I enjoyed the fuss. I followed him over to where Polly was now carrying a crying Martha.

      ‘Martha, feeling sad?’ Henry asked, eyes brimming with concern.

      ‘She bumped herself when she fell over, sweetie,’ Polly replied. ‘Hi, Alfie.’ She smiled at me and I miaowed and put my tail up in greeting.

      ‘Right, well we are going to Franceska’s for lunch, although, Alfie, it might be a bit far for you,’ she added as she strapped Martha into the buggy and then tried to coax Henry in.

      ‘I walking,’ Henry said. And suddenly I had a great idea. I had never been to Franceska’s new flat, largely due to my fear of going far from home. When I was forced to leave my first home after Margaret died, I walked for weeks before I got to Edgar Road. I nearly died on a number of occasions – the big roads I had to cross were more dangerous than I could have ever imagined – and so I was fearful, but I did want to see where my third family lived and now, if Henry didn’t want to go into the double pushchair then that meant there was a spare seat. I jumped into it.

      ‘Alfie,’ Polly admonished. Henry laughed, as did Martha. ‘OK, you can come to lunch with us but if Henry needs to go in the buggy you’ll have to sit on his lap.’ Shaking her head she started pushing us. I looked at Martha who was giving me lots of smiles. I happily flicked my tail; I knew what she meant, this wasn’t a bad way to travel.

      It seemed quite a long way, and halfway through Henry wanted to get into the pushchair, so Polly put me on his lap.

      As we left the quiet of Edgar Road behind, the streets started to get busier, with more shops springing up, more traffic and definitely a lot more people, as Polly manoeuvred the double buggy round them. I soon put my doubts aside and took notice of our route, just in case. We reached Franceska and Tomasz’s restaurant, Ognisko, where Polly stopped so we could look through the big square window. It looked inviting, I thought, the woodwork on the outside was painted blue, and inside it was full of people, sitting at rustic wooden tables, all looking as if they were enjoying the food that sat on crisp looking linen tablecloths. I was excited to see it for the first time.

      We stood next to a different door and Polly rang the buzzer. Franceska opened it with a huge smile, Polly folded the buggy and left it in the entrance as we made our way upstairs to their flat.

      ‘My goodness, you brought Alfie!’ Franceska beamed and I grinned back as only a cat can do.

      ‘He jumped into the buggy and so I thought, why not? Although pushing a cat down the road made me feel like a crazy woman.’ They both laughed.

      ‘Tomasz?’ Henry said, looking for his friend. It always confused me how both father and the younger son of the family were called Tomasz. I called them big Tomasz and little Tomasz to avoid confusion, but it wasn’t the most sensible way to name people who lived in the same house.

      ‘Sorry, munchkin, he is at school today and Aleksy too. Come though, you can play with his toys.’ Franceska led Henry through to the living room. They had a dining table in the same room as their sofa; it was a big room, warm and inviting and larger than theirs on Edgar Road. The table was laid out with food and I could smell that she had sardines. As if she knew I was coming, my treat awaited. I walked to the table hopefully and miaowed loudly.

      ‘OK, Alfie, you can have your fish. Lucky I had some, although I had no idea you would be here.’ She laughed as she picked me up and gave me a lovely hug.

      We spent a lovely afternoon together. I got to explore the flat – it was wonderful to see where they lived. Big Tomasz, Franceska’s husband, came up to see us after his lunchtime rush and made a huge fuss of me. Big Tomasz suited the name I gave him; he was a big man who was so much softer than he looked. I always wished I knew him better, but as he worked so much I saw the least of him out of everybody. When we had to leave I felt sad, but on the way back Martha and Henry slept so I curled up on Henry’s lap for my lift home, struggling to stay awake after my unexpected excitement.

      I jumped out at Claire and Jonathan’s and rubbed Polly’s legs in thanks for my outing. It was time for me to have a nap but I couldn’t resist going to number 48, for one last look. They had already put curtains up at all the windows at the front and the downstairs ones were closed. This was yet another thing that was odd as it was middle of the day. One of the rooms upstairs also had closed curtains.

      There was no activity to be seen and no sign of the beautiful white cat. I thought about going round the back but I didn’t want to have another run-in until I thought about how best to approach her. For now, I would sleep on it. It was the best solution, I decided, as I made my way round to my back garden. I was about to go through the cat flap when I remembered something. I went over to our garden fence, the one that divided our house from number 48. When I first moved into Jonathan’s house, I discovered that one of the panels was a bit loose at the bottom. It allowed me

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