by Rachel Wells
‘And Hana had only just left, you see I was saying goodbye to her at the back door and I came back in and he was already eating them. I only turned my back for a minute.’
‘George, Pickles eats anything and everything, there is just no stopping him.’ It was true, even I wouldn’t want to come between that dog and his food. Or anyone else’s food for that matter.
While we waited for news, Claire was beside herself, as were we all. It was as if we all blamed ourselves, although I wasn’t there I still felt as if I was responsible in some way. We fretted and paced around, restless, hoping that the poor pup would be alright. George lay down eventually, but I knew he wasn’t able to sleep, so I lay next to him nuzzling him, trying to offer some comfort.
Finally, Polly rang with the news that Pickles was going to be alright, although he was still a bit sick. Pickles was going to stay with the vet for a while, for something called observation, and then he’d be home before we knew it. Claire was relieved, although no one blamed her for it, she blamed herself, a bit like George. Claire cried while I comforted her, it hadn’t been fun that was for sure.
But when we knew that Pickles was going to be alright, I persuaded George to go and visit Harold and Snowball.
‘Are you going to come with me?’
‘No, son, I’m exhausted and need to rest,’ I said. I had a plan in place that Dustbin had come up with about the notebook, but for now I had another plan, one of my own. I was hoping the more George and Snowball bonded, the easier it would be when I told him how I felt about her. That was my biggest wish right now. Of course I had to tell Snowball too but I thought that it was almost understood between us already, without us having to say anything. But George was the one whose feelings I had to consider most at the moment, I was a parent after all and his feelings were more important than my own.
When George came home that evening, I had slept, and thought, slept and thought some more. Because of everything going around my brain, I was still tired though.
‘How were Harold and Snowball?’ I asked.
‘I forgot that Harold was at his senior centre this afternoon so I only just saw him when he came home. He was talking about his lonely club again. He’s got ten people so far on his list who don’t really have family around, and he’s very sad about it. As am I. But I told Snowball that you had a plan coming soon.’
‘I do, George, I do.’
‘And on the way home I stopped at Polly’s and Pickles is back, he said they made him be sick, but that he’s fine now although quite hungry.’
‘Ah, that puppy is always hungry.’
‘I know but he wasn’t bothered by it. He said it was another adventure. But I did tell him that cats would never eat chocolate or foil, and he said he had taken that onboard now. But he also said there was a lot of information in being a cat, so he wasn’t sure how much he could retain.’
‘That sounds like Pickles.’
‘I love him, Dad, but at the end of the day he’s only a dog after all.’
I went into the living room where Summer was crying. Jonathan had just got home from work and was scratching his head as if he was confused. I wished he’d scratch my head as much as he did his own, I love a good head scratch.
‘Summer, what’s wrong?’ Claire asked.
‘Henry and Martha said we had nearly killed Pickles and they’re really mad at us,’ Toby explained.
‘They were our chocolate coins,’ Summer said hiccuping the words out.
‘I know, and now we know about Pickles and the fact he can’t eat chocolate maybe we can be more careful about leaving it lying around. It shouldn’t really have been in the living room anyway,’ Claire said gently, hugging Summer. ‘But it was a mistake that’s all and Pickles is fine. Let’s go to Polly and Matt’s now and sort it out.’
‘But what if they shout at us?’ Toby asked.
‘They must have been very worried but, Toby, Summer, this could have happened to anyone, so let’s go and I’m sure it’ll be fine.’
‘We’ll all go,’ Jonathan said. ‘As a family.’ And off they went.
‘It seems everyone feels guilty about Pickles,’ George said when we were alone.
‘That’s what we do when we love someone, we blame ourselves if anything happens.’
‘I know, you always do with me don’t you?’
‘Yes, George, I do.’
‘But I’m perfect so you really don’t need to,’ he finished.
Chapter Thirty
It was time to put everything aside and get yet another plan put into action, before Christmas was upon us. After Pickles’ scare, friendships between the children had been fixed and were as strong as ever, and their excitement levels had been turned up several notches. Apart from Tommy. I could tell Tommy was feeling a bit like the odd one out. Too old for the younger ones, and excluded from the exclusive Aleksy and Connie club. Franceska told Claire that she was worried he was a bit lonely. He had loads of friends but when he was with us, he wasn’t really there. Claire suggested that Tommy should be allowed to invite a friend to our next family day which was coming up and that turned out to be a brilliant idea as Tommy leapt at it. Franceska said she hadn’t before thought of it, as the family day was just that but our family expanded all the time. We’d added Sylvie, Connie, Hana, Marcus and Harold after all. So, this seemed like the opportune time to try to get Harold’s idea to Claire.
In fact the next family day was a mini Christmas Day because Connie was spending actual Christmas in Japan. I thought that although she would be missed, it would be nice for Tommy to have his brother back for Christmas. And although Sylvie had been panicking a bit, having never spent Christmas without Connie, she had Marcus and all of us to get her through it.
I discussed the plan at length with George, and to a lesser extent with Snowball and we decided that the next time Claire went to Harold’s we would follow her there. That would be the time to get her to see the notebook. We had come up with a rough idea of how we would do it, but we also recognised the need for us to play it by ear a bit. As with most plans, they should never be too rigid. Luckily we didn’t have too long to wait, Claire went to Harold’s most days, so today we went with her. Claire was taking him his lunch. She was also taking Pickles who seemed to come everywhere, no one wanted to let him out of their sight since the chocolate incident. Harold always had somewhere to eat, Sylvie’s, ours or Matt and Polly’s, but since having Snowball he preferred to eat at home. She really had done a great job keeping him company, but I could see where Harold was coming from with his lunch club because he always had somewhere to go, or people going to see him. He was one of the lucky ones.
‘Hi, Claire and Pickles,’ Harold said as he answered the door. He was looking quite healthy these days. The right medication coupled with Snowball also seemed to have given him a new lease of life. ‘And hello, Alfie and George. Snowball’s in the kitchen,’ he said. We all followed him through, including Pickles. I realised I hadn’t quite factored Pickles into my plan but hopefully he wouldn’t ruin it.
‘Do you want some soup now? I can warm it up for you,’ Claire said.
‘Oh I don’t want to put you to any trouble,’ Harold said.
‘Don’t be silly, I was hoping you might invite me to join you for lunch,’ Claire suggested. She was so good, she always made it sound like he was doing her a favour when really we all knew it was the other way round.
‘Of course, I’d love that. I’ll set the table.’
‘Woof!’ Pickles tried to jump up onto the chair where Harold was laying cutlery out. He was old fashioned like that. In fact, his late wife, Marcus’s mum, always liked things done properly. Harold used table mats, and napkins and everything. We all sat there as Claire warmed up the soup on the stove, buttered thick slices of bread, and dished everything up.
‘Pickles come here,’ I hissed. I needed to keep him under control.
‘You know, I can help you with your Christmas shopping if you like,’ Claire
offered.
‘That’s kind of you. Jonathan said your best skill is shopping,’ Harold said.
‘I’ll kill him,’ Claire laughed.
‘But seriously, I want to get something special for Marcus and Sylvie, and young Connie. And the rest of you. I’ve put you all through a lot this year.’
‘Oh Harold, don’t think of it like that, they love you, we love you.’
‘I know, but I was in hospital for a long time and you all must have been exhausted visiting me.’
‘Well you know, I’ll help choose for your family, but with our family we decided to do Secret Santa, not the kids, but they get loads anyway, but the adults will pick one person and you have to buy something for five pounds.’
‘That sounds sensible, if you’re sure. I mean I’m not a rich man but I saved quite a bit of my pension while I was in hospital.’ He grinned.
‘No, concentrate on your immediate family, we don’t need anything but your company. Although this time next year you’ll have another little one to add to your list.’
‘I can’t believe it, Grandpa Harold,’ he chuckled. ‘Now I do need to get a present for Snowball and George and Alfie, of course,’ he said.
‘Woof.’
‘Yes and you too Pickles,’ he added with a grin.
I led my troops into the kitchen and Pickles waddled in after us.
‘Right, the notebook is on the arm of the chair, so my plan is that we knock it off, make a lot of noise, make sure one of us keeps a paw on it until Claire comes up to it to see what’s going on.’
‘Harold might get to it first,’ Snowball said.
‘What is this plan?’ Pickles asked.
‘Don’t worry about it, Pickles,’ Snowball said, as George shot him a withering look.
‘Claire is much faster than Harold,’ I reassured. ‘She’ll be over with us before Harold can even get off the chair.’
‘It’s a good plan,’ George said.
‘And for once one that can’t end up with any of us in danger,’ Snowball added. I narrowed my eyes at her, she was one cheeky cat.
‘But what is the plan?’ Pickles asked again.
I took the lead as I went into the living room, with them hot on my paws. I jumped up onto the armchair and then onto the arm where the notebook lay. I lifted a paw and knocked it off. George immediately pounced but somehow managed to slide it under the sofa.
‘Meow,’ I said. Both Harold and Claire looked over at us, but the notebook couldn’t be seen. I jumped down and the three of us set about trying to catch the notebook with our paws to get it out, but we seemed to only knock it further.
‘What are they doing?’ Claire asked.
‘Right,’ I hissed quietly. ‘George, you’re the smallest, you have to hook it and bring it out, after all you can get under the sofa.’ I held my breath, but finally the notebook emerged, followed by George who was covered in dust. He sneezed. We had done it though, now we had the notebook, I put my paw on it.
‘YOWL,’ I shouted.
‘MEOW,’ George said at the top of his lungs.
‘YELP,’ Snowball called out but her voice was far too sweet to be alarming.
‘Woof, woof, woof,’ Pickles joined in as he ran around in circles.
‘What?’ Harold asked as we kept making as much noise as we could. As I thought, Claire ran over to us.
‘What’s all the noise for?’ she asked. I looked down at the notebook then back up at her.
‘Meow,’ I said more quietly.
‘What’s this?’ She picked the book up. As I planned, Harold had stood up.
‘That’s mine,’ he snapped.
‘OK, but why did the cats have it?’ Claire asked, as it fell open at the place where he kept his pen.
‘Don’t look’ Harold shouted.
‘Have you been writing poetry or something?’ Claire asked.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, I just—’
‘MEOW,’ George shouted really loudly and jumped on Claire’s foot.
‘Ow. I think he wants me to read it,’ she said.
‘No!’ Harold said.
‘Meow,’ the three of us said in unison.
‘Why don’t you want me to see it?’ Claire asked. ‘Of course I won’t look if you don’t want me to.’ She handed the notebook back to Harold. I couldn’t believe it, we hadn’t factored in the fact that Claire wasn’t an intrusive person.
‘MEOW!’ I shouted.
‘It’s just silly ramblings of an old man.’ Harold blushed and looked at his feet. George jumped up on his lap and purred into his neck.
‘You’re not silly,’ Claire said quietly. She reached over and squeezed Harold’s hand which was shaking.
‘Here,’ was all he said, as he passed the notebook over to her.
We had succeeded, and Claire started reading as we all sat there hopefully. I noticed how Harold’s hand still shook gently as he tried to eat his soup, and kept shooting glances at Claire. He was nervous, but he shouldn’t have been.
‘Wow,’ Claire said as she finished. ‘Harold, this is such a brilliant idea, why didn’t you tell me?’
‘You really think so?’ he asked. ‘I thought perhaps people would think me silly. I know I’m a foolish old man but being in hospital was a real eye-opener.’
‘Goodness no, you’re right we don’t think enough about all the lonely people … Oh my goodness and you’ve even made a list of names.’
‘It’s the ones from the senior centre, they really do get very lonely and you know they don’t have anyone to bring them a hot meal. It made me realise how lucky I was when I started going there and then in hospital, I had the most visitors but some people didn’t have any which is why George became so important to them. I keep meaning to take him back in but of course I need help and I didn’t think any of you would approve.’
‘Firstly, I will help you take George to the hospital, as it’s Christmas we can take biscuits and chocolates for the patients, it’ll be a lovely thing to do and I only wish I’d thought of it.’ Claire took Harold’s hand and I saw that he had tears in his eyes. ‘And as for your genius idea of the Sunday Lunch Club, how about we make it our project. We’ll work together and get it off the ground straight away.’
‘You mean it?’
‘Yes, we’re going to have Christmas lunch at the restaurant again this year, it’s so much easier with all of us and we can easily fit in extra people, especially if they have nowhere to go. We can easily organise that. And then for the long term I will get a few people on the street together, with you as well and we’ll get families to take someone in. Perhaps not every week, because that might be a bit much, but say twice a month to start with? Jon and I will definitely open our house to someone, as will Polly and Matt, Frankie and Tomasz will too, I am sure, then there are others.’
‘You think we can make this work?’
‘Yes, we’ll start with your ten and who knows, we might get more people willing to help out as well.’
‘Oh Claire, I can’t tell you this means to me.’
‘Meow,’ George said.
‘And George. You know we both felt that we needed to do something about people being lonely. I was so lonely not that long back, you know when Marcus and I fell out and I was a bitter old man, but look at me now … It was George’s idea as much as mine though.’
George purred.
‘You should say that at our meeting, Harold, because it’s perfect and yes look at you now. You’ve got a son, a nearly-daughter-in-law, a granddaughter and a new grandbaby on the way, not to mention all of us.’
‘And Snowball, George and Alfie, and of course Hana too.’
‘Woof,’ Pickles said.
‘You’re a dog, Pickles,’ Claire said petting him. ‘I always include the animals when I say us,’ she laughed. ‘You know I was lonely too when I first met Alfie, a long time ago, sometimes it feels like another lifetime, but I do remember how it felt and I wouldn’t want anyone to feel that way.’
‘Me either, which is why I so desperately wanted to do this.’ Harold had tears falling from his eyes.
‘We’ll make a brilliant team.’ Claire hugged him.
‘Meow.’ I jumped on Claire’s lap. Yes we would, Harold, Claire, George, Snowball and I. We would be the best team ever. And Pickles, he was part of our team of course.
Chapter Thirty-One
We all turned up at Sylvie’s house the usual chaotic mass of people. The kids were excited because it wasn’t quite Christmas but it was close, Pickles was excited because since the chocolate incident he was back to usual. Jonathan had bottles in his hands, as did Matt, and Tomasz and Franceska turned up with food. It was so familiar. When Marcus came in with Harold and Snowball in tow, I realised that it was all as it should be. Apart from the fact that George and Hana had disappeared. Maybe this was my chance to find out what was really going on.
As everyone settled down to eat, I turned to Snowball.
‘We need to go and find out if Hana and George are together, once and for all,’ I said, sounding every inch the parent.
‘How?’ she asked.
‘We need to spy on them and before you say it, I know it’s an invasion of privacy but I really want to know.’
‘Why don’t you just ask him, Alfie?’ Pickles said. I hadn’t realised he’d been listening but I should have, as we were near the food bowls.
‘I’ve tried, believe me I have. Follow me.’ I headed upstairs and crept along the corridor to Connie’s room. In there, curled up on the bed were George and Hana, looking very cosy.
‘Right, keep quiet,’ I commanded.
‘There they are,’ Pickles shouted, blowing our cover immediately. They sprung up as Pickles waddled over to them, his tail wagging.
‘What are you doing here?’ George asked.
‘I could ask you the same, young man,’ I replied.
‘We were just having some time alone, Alfie, we weren’t doing anything wrong,’ Hana said sweetly, her eyes wide with worry.
