Alfie the Holiday Cat. Rachel Wells
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She bent down to give me a pat and I purred. I deserved a treat after my ordeal.
We passed a lovely afternoon on the lawn. It was too hot for us to go back to the beach, I told George. In truth I wasn’t ready to revisit it just yet, I was still feeling a little bit anxious. We could see so much from here in the shade of a lovely bush. I did ask George why he hadn’t noticed I was missing earlier but he just raised his whiskers and said he was far too busy digging holes, as if that was the most natural answer in the world.
As we watched, there was even more activity on the beach; children, and people on the water, which had moved closer up the beach – Claire said it was the tide coming in. There were some flat boards that people seemed to be standing on. I didn’t know what they were, having not seen them before.
‘Can I learn to paddleboard?’ Aleksy asked. Ah, that’s what those people were doing.
‘Yes, kochanie,’ Franceska said. ‘We’ll find out how to do it and then you and Tommy can learn.’
I hoped they would be careful, water was tricky and although I knew humans seemed to quite like it – the bath, a swimming pool, the sea – us cats sensibly steered clear.
Aleksy set up a game of football for the kids as us adults relaxed on a blanket. Polly went to check on the builders every now and then, Claire dozed off and Franceska read her book. I watched George chasing the football around, pretty unsuccessfully, but I knew he would sleep well tonight. In fact, the sea air was making me sleepy again.
‘Dad,’ a voice woke me. I looked up to see George standing there. I must have nodded off.
‘George.’
‘Everyone’s gone inside for tea, the builders have gone and I think it’s our teatime.’ I glanced across at the beach again to see it was emptying. The sky was still bright but I felt hungry so, yes, it must be teatime.
‘Let’s go then, George, come on, round the back.’
We went through the cat flap and saw there was a doorway into the utility room which hadn’t been there before. It was a bit messy but not too bad as we made our way into the kitchen via the ‘sand room’. It was good because it took a while for George and I to shake even more sand off our fur – it sure did like to stick and I didn’t want Claire to insist on bathing us.
Before we headed into the kitchen I stopped. There was a funny smell again, I could have sworn it was a cat but there was no other feline here apart from me and George so I couldn’t understand it. I had a good poke around in the corners but there was no sign of anything, just the smell. I didn’t like it though. I lingered for a bit longer, double checking around as I heard George being greeted in the kitchen. Then I heard a lot of laughter. Reluctantly leaving my search, I made my way into the kitchen where I saw George sitting on the kitchen table near Summer. Claire was shrieking but everyone else was laughing. I took a closer look. All the children had ice-cream cones and George had his face in Summer’s.
‘Look, George likes ice cream,’ Henry said, giggling. Summer was holding the cone out to him.
‘Don’t encourage him, Sum, and you can’t eat that now,’ Claire chastised, taking the cone off her. But the damage had been done. George was covered in ice cream, and as he licked the ice cream off his face a big grin appeared either side of his ice-cream-white nose.
‘This is special local ice cream, made from clotted cream,’ Polly explained, reading the tub she had taken it from.
‘It’s delicious, but I’m not sure we should be feeding it to the cats,’ Franceska said.
‘It’s very cold but I really do like ice cream,’ George said to me when no one was listening.
I licked a bit off his head. Um, actually it wasn’t bad, I could see the appeal. I saw Claire put the rest of Summer’s ice cream onto a plate by the sink. I jumped up and started licking and George joined me. Franceska took her phone out and started taking photos.
‘Only we could have cats who get to eat Devon’s finest ice cream,’ Polly laughed.
‘Meow,’ I said, as I lapped up the creamy, cold mixture. It was delicious.
‘Well I suppose it’s their holiday too,’ Claire finished. ‘Although I am still not sure they should be allowed it.’
‘Surely the odd treat?’ Franceska said, giving me a big smile.
Our holiday was suddenly looking up.
We were all having breakfast in the kitchen when there was a loud, persistent knock at the door.
‘Is that the builders already?’ Claire asked, looking up from where she was trying to coax Summer to eat some fruit. All the children were sitting nicely at the table, and George was licking porridge off the floor. I was trying, and failing, not to notice him doing so.
‘They’re not due for an hour, I’ll go,’ Polly said, making towards the door. I went with her. As she opened the door, we both were taken aback for a moment. Standing on the doorstep was a very glamorous woman, who I first thought was carrying one of those tiny dogs but on closer inspection it was actually a cat. A Persian, I thought, very pretty, but she took one look at me and waved her tail in a hateful way, hissed and started squirming.
‘Chanel darling, behave,’ the woman said as the cat wiggled in her arms. I stood my ground; this was my ground after all.
‘Hello?’ Polly said, looking bemused. The woman was tall, very slim and wearing a dress and really high heels. Her blonde hair was long and very neat and she was wearing make-up. I felt a little sorry for Polly – although she is the most beautiful woman I know, she didn’t look great in an old T-shirt, cropped leggings, her hair piled messily on top of her head and there was no make-up on her face. The cat was as immaculate as her owner but I didn’t like her, she was hostile and, I decided, as she hissed at me again, more than a little bit mean.
‘Sorry, sorry.’ The lady’s voice was confident and a little too loud. ‘Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Andrea. I live next door and, well, I wanted to come and meet you, with Chanel of course. I didn’t realise you had a cat though,’ she said giving me what I can only describe as a ‘look’. It was a bit disdainful.
‘Oh, hi.’ Polly looked at the woman unsurely. ‘Nice to meet you. I’m Polly, this is Alfie. We actually have two cats here,’ she explained.
‘Meow,’ I said, trying to tell Chanel I wasn’t scared of her. She looked at me as if she’d like to kill me.
‘Right, so are you living here now?’ Andrea asked. Her grey eyes narrowed and she tried to peer round the door into the house.
‘No, not exactly. We’ve just arrived but we’re on holiday. It’s a long story.’ Finally Polly found her smile.
‘Right, well no time like the present.’ And somehow Andrea managed to manoeuvre herself around