Alfie the Holiday Cat. Rachel Wells
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‘Of course. I know it’s supposed to be a holiday but I’ve got a feeling you’ll have your paws full. Look after our kitten, won’t you?’ her voice urgent.
‘Oh, Tiger, I know you’ll miss him, but I promise I won’t let him out of my sight.’ Just thinking about that made me feel tired. Hopefully it would be a bit relaxing as well. What was I thinking? Looking after George was the least relaxing thing ever. But I wouldn’t change it for the world.
‘I know you’ll take care of him, but take care of yourself too.’
‘I’ll miss you, Tiger, and I will really look forward to seeing you when we get back.’ I wasn’t sure how to express myself, but I was trying.
‘Good, and make sure you do miss me. Alfie, I love you more than all the cat food in the world.’
‘And I love you more than pilchards.’ I nuzzled into her neck. We stayed there for what seemed like ages in comfortable silence. That was what I liked about my relationship with Tiger; we knew each other so well, nothing needed saying, and that was how I liked it.
A shadow loomed over us and I looked up to see Salmon. He used to be my nemesis, but since George went missing in the summer we had called a truce. It had been the worst time of my life not knowing where my kitten was and all our cat friends had rallied to help, as had Salmon. He was very fond of George, if not so much me.
‘Salmon,’ I said. Tiger scowled; she still wasn’t his biggest fan. To be honest he was a bit of a busybody, like his owners who ran the neighbourhood watch and lived opposite us. They made everything that was going on in Edgar Road their business.
‘I was going to say goodbye to the lad but I’m guessing he’s in bed?’ he said, sounding gruff. He didn’t really know how to be friendly, but it wasn’t his fault.
‘He is, Salmon,’ I said, kindly. ‘But I’ll tell him you came by. Are you alright?’
‘Yes, just so you know I’ll look after things while you’re away. I mean, you know, keep an eye on things.’
‘What things?’ Tiger asked.
‘I’ll make sure everything is OK, Alfie,’ Salmon said. He raised his tail. ‘My owners are going to see yours to say the same. Anyway, have a good trip and hope the lad enjoys himself.’
I raised my whiskers at him and then he left.
‘You could be friendlier,’ I said to Tiger.
‘And you could be less so,’ Tiger retorted. ‘Anyway, I better get back, supper will be waiting. Bye, Alfie.’
She sounded sad but I didn’t prolong the farewell, I understood how she felt, and I knew that by snapping at me, it would make it easier for her. I hated goodbyes too, even temporary ones.
When I let myself back in through the cat flap, Claire and Jonathan were on the sofa together. The doorbell interrupted them. I went to wait by the door, having been warned that it was Vic and Heather Goodwin, Salmon’s owners.
‘Oh God, we don’t even get five minutes’ peace,’ Jonathan muttered as he opened the door.
Before he could say anything, Vic and Heather were inside the house, a skill they seemed to have. Without being asked they made their way to the living room.
‘Well this is a surprise,’ Claire said, standing up. I went to join her, as did Jonathan. Vic and Heather always made us feel guilty for some reason, as if we had done something wrong. That was always how it was with them. And Claire and Jonathan didn’t invite them to sit down – they weren’t being rude but they’d done that once before and Vic and Heather had stayed for hours; we all thought they were never going to leave and Jonathan said if they’d stayed any longer they would have claimed squatters’ rights! It was always better not to be too welcoming – we’d learnt the hard way.
‘Well, dear,’ Heather said. They were both wearing matching blue shirts today; they were always coordinated. ‘We wanted to reassure you that, although you are going away, your house is in safe hands.’ She grinned, slightly menacingly, I thought.
‘Well yes, it’s in my hands,’ Jonathan replied, tetchily.
‘Oh we know,’ Vic laughed, ‘that you’ll be here some of the time, but with your big important job and then when you are going to stay with the family … Where is it you’re going again?’
‘North Devon,’ Claire stuttered, terrified; I wondered if they were going to ask for the address.
‘Perhaps we should have the information – you know, for emergencies,’ Heather said.
‘What emergencies? I am going to be here most of the time, you know,’ Jonathan reiterated.
‘I’ll give you my mobile number,’ Claire said, reluctantly. ‘Just for emergencies and of course Jonathan and I are very grateful that you’ll be keeping an eye on the house while we’re away, thank you.’
‘Um, yes, but when I’m here, you’ll know because there will be lights on, so you don’t need to worry,’ Jonathan said. He grimaced. I could imagine that was because Vic and Heather’s binoculars would be trained on the house from across the road. Not that he had anything to hide, but I had learnt through the years that humans liked privacy rather than being stared at by neighbours.
‘Of course, we just want to make sure that your house is safe when it’s empty. Imagine if you came back from your holiday and found it burgled.’
‘It’s unlikely,’ Jonathan said. We had alarms on the house, it was very safe apparently.
‘It’s more than unlikely with us on the case, you see. Now we really ought to get moving, we need to go and see Matt and Polly to give them the same reassurance.’ Vic smiled. ‘Oh but, Claire, if you could just scribble your number down?’ he added.
Once Claire had given them her number, and they left, Jonathan turned to her.
‘They’ll be calling you whenever anything, I mean anything, happens,’ he teased.
‘Well at least I know you’ll behave yourself. Being watched all the time.’ Claire giggled, I purred.
‘I hadn’t thought of that, although of course I’ll behave myself. I’m looking forward to some peace and quiet, but I will miss you all,’ he quickly added.
I knew what he meant. Our house could be chaos and sometimes Jonathan said going to work was his way of relaxing. I would miss him though, I was used to him always being there and he had very good taste in cat food and cashmere jumpers, which I would ‘accidentally’ use to sleep on.
‘Shall we warn Matt and Polly?’ Claire asked.
‘No, why let them escape the fun of the Goodwins? I think we should have a last drink and then go to bed. You’ve got a long drive tomorrow.’
‘I’m so excited to see the cottage again.