by Rachel Wells
Chapter Eighteen
Matt and the children were with Jonathan in the living room and Claire was clearing up the kitchen when we heard the doorbell. Wiping her hands on her jeans, Claire went to open it with me at her heels. Polly, face like thunder, stood on the doorstep.
‘Oh dear,’ Claire said. Polly pursed her lips and walked in. The adults all made their way to the kitchen, leaving the children playing.
‘I’m actually really worried about that woman,’ Polly started.
‘So, she didn’t take kindly to your reasonable chat?’ Matt raised an eyebrow. ‘I did tell you to leave well alone.’
‘I told Claire as well,’ Jonathan said. The two men high-fived, looking pleased with themselves. Honestly, if we left it to them nothing would ever get resolved. I swished my tail against Jonathan, angrily.
‘Oh, for goodness sake, grow up. Anyway, I will tell you what happened. Sylvie now blames us – that’s me and you, Claire – for this whole thing. Apparently if we had left her alone, hadn’t tried to make her our friend, then Connie wouldn’t have met Aleksy and none of this would have happened.’
Even I had to admit that was terrible logic. Connie was in the same year as Aleksy in the same school.
‘I said,’ Polly continued, ‘very calmly, I might add, that they’re in school together so they would probably have met at some point. And do you know what she said?’ They all shook their heads. Polly can be a bit scary when riled. ‘She said that she was still going to figure out a way to pull Connie out of school and send her to an all-girls’ one. The thing is that she is behaving madly, and I think she needs help but she won’t let us anywhere near her.’
‘Oh dear,’ Jonathan, the master of understatement, said.
‘I asked if she would sit down with Franceska and Aleksy to talk, and she basically threw me out of her house.’
‘She must have been so badly affected by the divorce.’ Claire shook her head.
‘Yes, and I’m out of ideas. I do want to help her, not just the kids, but she really isn’t behaving rationally.’
‘I feel sorry for her, but I have no idea what to do.’
‘Maybe you can try next time,’ Polly said. Then she smiled. ‘Though if you value your life I wouldn’t recommend it. She’s feistier than she looks.’
‘If only there was a way though, to get her to see sense.’ Claire chewed her lip, thoughtfully.
I felt my brain begin to tick over. Sylvie felt as if she was alone, and she wouldn’t let the women in, but if we showed her that she was welcome here, I mean if I showed her … I just had to figure out how.
‘Poor Aleksy, it’s just like Romeo and Juliet,’ Matt said, and they all lapsed into silence.
It was clear no one knew what to do and it seemed that yet again it was going to be down to me.
I left them to see Tiger. George was still out and I assumed he would be with her. There was no sign of either of them, so I took one of my lives in my paws and jumped through the cat flap. Thankfully the kitchen was empty, and I made my way through to the living room where I stopped. Tiger’s bed was in front of a fire, although it wasn’t a real fire, and Tiger was alone in it. There was no sign of her humans, but Tiger was curled up. She looked up and saw me.
‘Alfie,’ she said, her voice quiet.
‘Hey, is it safe to come in?’
‘Yes, they’ve gone shopping for a bit, come on in.’
I made my way over to her bed, and sat down next to her.
‘I thought George might be with you,’ I said.
‘No, isn’t he home?’
I flicked my tail. ‘No, and he’s normally home by now.’
‘Alfie, he seemed a bit angry when I saw him today. He was trying to hide it but he kept saying it was unfair that I wasn’t going to be here soon. I tried to calm him down by telling him I’d always be watching him but I’m not sure he was buying it. Anyway, I think he might have needed a bit of time to himself.’
‘I know and he’s old enough, but Tiger, and I’m not telling you this to worry you, but he’s been going out a lot more lately. At first I thought he was visiting Hana, which he does but not the whole time, so I’m not sure where he goes. I asked Rocky, Elvis and Nellie but they don’t know either. He’s not spending much time with them, it seems.’
‘And asking George won’t work, will it?’
‘No, he gets defensive when I even ask him if he’s hungry these days.’ My lovely sweet kitten was becoming surly, monosyllabic and he was actually behaving like a teenager, but of course cats don’t normally do that. But, I accepted that, with the Tiger situation, normality had gone out of the window.
‘Alfie, you’ll have to follow him, just to check you know that he’s safe.’
‘I’m normally the one who would suggest such a thing.’ I grinned. It was obvious. Why hadn’t I thought of this? Although with everything going on, maybe it wasn’t surprising.
‘But just make sure that he doesn’t see you. I’m not sure he’ll take kindly to being followed.’
‘And with all the mounting problems at the moment, having George angry with me is not one I want to add to the pile.’
‘Please make sure you come back and tell me what you discover. If I can I’ll come out, but if not I’ll be right here. Even if my family is here – they are both quite sad at the moment, so they might even let you come in.’
‘Right, Tiger, before I do anything more about the whole human situation I will make sure that I know George is OK and I’ll find out where he’s going.’
If George was acting like a teenager, I hoped he wasn’t doing what I’d heard a lot of teenagers did, and getting into trouble. We had quite enough of that right now, thank you very much.
I casually established that George was going to see Tiger, and I lay in wait for him. Unfortunately it was cold, and I shivered in the bush in Tiger’s front garden, where I had chosen to hide. I had followed many people before, but never George, and although I kept a close eye on him, I had to admit this did feel different. I felt as if I was betraying him in a way, although I knew, deep down, it was for his own good. I would let him have his freedom, just as long as I knew he was safe. I needed to ensure he was being careful and there was no danger.
I knew I should be thankful that he was going out during the day – if it had been night I would have had a whole heap of fears and worries. He could have been hanging out with unsavoury cats, fighting, hunting, getting up to all sorts of mischief. Though if he had shown any signs of that I would have got Dustbin on the case. I really had to stop worrying about things that hadn’t happened, especially as I had my paws full with troubles that were very, very real.
It is characteristic of life, and I speak from my own experience, that when things start piling up the tendency is to fret more. It’s a vicious circle: when things are good you enjoy them and try not to think of the bad times, but when things are bad you can only think of how they could get worse. So, as I waited for George, I tried to count my blessings. Firstly, the sun was shining. Yes it was cold and windy, but at least it wasn’t raining. And I did have lovely families and friends. I might be losing Tiger but I was lucky to have had her in my life for as long as I had, and that was a gift. Although losing her wasn’t a gift, it was the opposite of a gift, whatever that may be.
Just as I was running out of both blessings and optimism, George appeared. He didn’t notice me as he set off down Edgar Road, towards where our cat friends met. I followed at a safe distance, hopping behind the odd lamppost to ensure I kept out of sight, but George didn’t look back once. None of our friends were at the recreation spot but he walked straight past it anyway; that clearly wasn’t where he was heading. As I carried on walking, I had a horrible feeling that I knew where he was going. As George stopped at the tatty house with the jungle garden and the horrible old man, my worst fears were confirmed.
I watched him from a safe distance as George played in the overgrown bushes which dominated the space. It re
ally did look fun to play in; brambles and overgrown plants, a small, fat tree with overhanging branches and long grass. There were no flowers, no colour. But it was a garden you could definitely lose yourself in and I just hoped he was safe. I settled back to watch my boy.
After exploring the garden, he hopped up on the windowsill of the house and peered in. Next thing I knew, the old man from Halloween appeared and started banging a walking stick against the window in an angry fashion. George, however, sat on the windowsill and seemed nonplussed. Or nonpussed. I cowered behind a bush near the front wall, as close as I dared go. What if the man hurt George? He stood there shaking his fist and his walking stick. I saw him more clearly than I had in the dark that night. I could vaguely hear the words, ‘Get lost’, being shouted. George tapped his paw on the window one last time and hopped down, raising his tail in a salute. I quickly started running home.
All the way I tried to make sense of what I’d seen. George clearly knew the garden but the old man didn’t want him there. The thing was that my George wasn’t the best at reading signals, he’d thought Chanel liked him when she showed him nothing but disdain. But how could I discuss this with George without him knowing I was following him? I couldn’t.
Another thing to add to my mounting problems; I would have to keep an eye on it. If this was where George was disappearing to most days I would need to make sure that he was safe. That walking stick looked like it could do some serious damage. The man looked as if he could do some damage too. And if the Goodwins were right and he was dangerous … I shuddered.
My other dilemma on the way back was whether to tell Tiger or not. On the one hand I didn’t want her to worry, but on the other she’d asked me to treat her normally. Also, I had a vague idea that it might be better for her to tackle George about this, or at least to try to ask him about it. He was still talking to her, after all, whereas at the moment he seemed to be avoiding me as much as he could. Oh yes, he would still fill me in about Hana but it was as if talking to me was a duty rather than a desire. Our easy relationship, the one where we hung out, chased leaves, chewed the fat with other cats, talked through the day’s events together in the evening, seemed to be over.
I just hoped it wasn’t over forever.
I’d been at home for a while before George came in. I’d stopped at Tiger’s but the cat flap was closed and there was no sign of her. I hoped she was resting. Every time I saw her she seemed weaker and the idea that, one day soon, I would go and see her and she wouldn’t be there threatened to floor me.
I’d had a snack, a wash and a nap, only to be woken by the sound of the cat flap and the appearance of a very sad-looking George.
‘Are you alright?’ I asked, fussing despite saying I wouldn’t.
‘I’m a bit tired actually,’ George said. ‘I think I might have a nap. It’s very cold out.’
He was chattier than normal, which I was happy about, but I also knew not to push it.
‘OK, did you see Tiger mum?’ I asked, casually.
‘I did, earlier.’ He turned to go, then he stopped. ‘Dad, she’s really not going to get better, is she?’ His eyes were full of sadness and his whiskers seemed to droop. My heart broke and I wanted, so desperately wanted, to give him the answer he needed to hear, but of course I couldn’t.
‘No, son, I don’t think she is,’ I said, heavily. George, to my surprise, came up to me and nuzzled into me.
‘What about you? Are you going to leave me as well?’ he asked, his voice small.
‘No, son, not for a very long time,’ I replied and I crossed my paws and hoped, prayed, that that was true. No, actually I knew it was true. I wasn’t going anywhere. I wanted to reassure him, but I didn’t want to lie. ‘You know, George, I would never leave you willingly, and nor would Tiger mum. She has no choice but I’m still here and, for as long as I am, I’ll always be right by your side. I love you, son.’ I nuzzled him and I felt his sadness through his fur.
As I watched George go to find his favourite chair to nap in, I felt my heart breaking for him all over again. I would be around for a very long time – don’t ask me how I knew, but I did – and I would give George as much strength and courage as possible. That was what parents should do for their children, after all. That and try to keep him away from the scary old man at the end of the street, of course.
Chapter Nineteen
It was pouring with rain but I had promised myself that I would go to see Dustbin to check that all was well with Aleksy. Unfortunately I had heard nothing new; the situation, according to George, via Hana, via the door, was the same. George was being a supportive friend and their regular through-the-glass-door chats were helping her, he believed. I was trying to let George feel grown-up so I didn’t intrude but I told him if he needed me, I would be happy to help. He was enjoying his friendship with Hana, although he was getting frustrated about not actually being able to see her properly or always hear what she had to say. That issue was already on my list, however. I felt that perhaps if I could get Hana and George face to face, it would help him through a tough time. I would have done anything to make George feel better about losing his Tiger mum, and though I knew that getting Hana out of the house wouldn’t do it, not nearly, at least it would be something.
What I hated most about this situation was the feeling of helplessness. I was a cat who fixed things, who fixed hearts, who never gave up, but here there really was nothing I could do. If the vet couldn’t fix Tiger, then I certainly couldn’t, and I hated that feeling. My heart was going to break, as was George’s, but I was powerless and that made me want to yowl in pain. All I could do was to be there for everyone, and that didn’t seem to be enough, although it had to be.
‘George,’ I said, finding him tracing raindrops falling down the window with his paw.
‘Yes, Dad?’ he replied, but he didn’t turn around.
‘I know it’s raining but I have to see Dustbin, Aleksy business. Do you fancy coming with?’ There was a pause as George, head tilted, seemed to be mulling my offer over.
‘No thanks, Dad,’ he said eventually. ‘It’s quite far in the rain and I have to visit Tiger mum and also go and see Hana, so that’ll keep me busy today.’
‘Alright, son, I’ll go on my own. If anyone needs me, let me know when I’m back later. I’m going to try to say hello to Tiger on the way, as well.’
George let out a big sigh. ‘OK Dad, see you later.’ He returned his attention to the raindrops, indicating our conversation was well and truly over.
Feeling like I wanted to say so much more, but unsure what, I waited a few moments before turning and heading out. Typical that I had to choose a day when the rain was beating down, although the grey sky matched my mood. But, never one to wallow, I went to Tiger’s house. There was no sign of her and I butted the cat flap with my head, but it didn’t move. Her family had locked her in again. Was this because she had to go to the vet? Or was it something even worse? My heart started beating fast as I made my way to the front of the house. I looked at the bottom window and there was Tiger, lying down. I jumped up onto the windowsill and she saw me. She looked frailer than ever but she managed to raise a paw and I did the same. Like George and Hana, we managed to exchange a few words, most of them lost in the wind. Her family was with her, in the living room, I could see the lights on, the fire blazing red, and they were sitting on the sofa. I gazed at Tiger and mouthed, ‘Goodbye’, as I reluctantly left her to lay down her head again. I just hoped it wasn’t going to be the last time I saw her. I hoped that every time, but I could feel her slipping away from me, and I knew that losing her was imminent.
My legs felt heavy with grief as I made my way to Franceska and Tomasz’s house to find Dustbin. My limbs seemed to be filled with lead, my head ached, and I felt pain running through my whole body. I knew this feeling, I’d had it before; it was heart-break, pure and simple, the worst ailment to affect me. But I kept going. One paw in front of the other, me and my pain continued. I was almost gla
d of the distraction, but then I was sad I even needed a distraction.
‘Dustbin.’ I mustered all my cheer as I greeted him. He was having a snack; not a rodent, thank goodness, but some left-overs from the restaurant which looked very tasty. He did get pretty well-paid in his job. He had to see off all manner of nasty rodents but the food he was given was of the highest quality. I wouldn’t have been able to do it though, not for all the sardines in the world.
‘Alfie, what a lovely surprise.’ He stopped eating. ‘How are you, mate?’
I filled him in on the situation with Tiger, which he was very sympathetic about, then I shared my worries about George, and finally I asked about Aleksy.
‘Oh boy, the drama just piles up, doesn’t it?’ Dustbin shook his tail. ‘I feel for you, Alfie, I really do. And I wish there was something I could do. But if you think George is in any danger from this stick-wielding man, just say the word and I’ll be after him.’
Dustbin was quite a keen fighter, not that I approved of violence, but Dustbin was a different type of cat to me. He didn’t go looking for trouble, but he didn’t shy away from dealing with it, which had helped me out quite a lot in the past. And for that I was grateful. He would never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it, I could vouch for that. He protected those he cared about, and I was grateful to be counted among those he did.
‘I think George is OK, at least he hasn’t got in with the wrong crowd. I’m worried about the old man, he seems very angry, but we can keep an eye on that. It’s more the fact that he’s shying away from me. We barely talk any more – well, we do about Aleksy, Connie and Hana, but not really about Tiger, or how he’s feeling.’
‘Give him time, Alfie, he’s young still and doesn’t know how to express himself yet. He will, and he’ll come to you when he’s ready. Just make sure he knows he can, which I know you do.’
