Alfie and George: A heart-warming tale about how one cat and his kitten brought a street together

Chapter Twenty-three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-one (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-four (#litres_trial_promo)

Keep Reading … (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#ulink_939fc2d7-5dca-5d7b-9e94-019a6e8aa7f8)

‘What on earth is THAT?’ I looked at Snowball, my cat girlfriend, then at the creature. We were standing by the wooden fence that surrounded the garden of our holiday home, staring at the strange creature roaming around on the other side. It was quite plump, had a very sharp beak, spiky fur, which looked feathery, and small, mean eyes. It made a funny, high-pitched noise as it eyeballed us, pecking in our direction. I backed away nervously.

‘Oh, Alfie, it’s just a hen! You must have seen one before?’ Snowball laughed.

I took offence, though in actual fact I hadn’t seen a real-life chicken before. But I was supposed to be the man in the relationship so I tried to square up.

‘Hiss,’ I said. There, that’d show him who was boss. But then the hen rushed towards me, wobbling its tiny head and flapping its wings. I jumped back.

Snowball laughed again and tickled me with her tail. ‘It’s harmless, Alfie, honestly.’ I certainly wasn’t convinced. ‘Well, you don’t get many hens in London,’ I huffed, stalking away.

We were somewhere called ‘the country’, and very nice it was too. We were staying in a house in the middle of nowhere, with nothing around for miles except fields. My family – Jonathan, Claire and Summer – and Snowball’s family, the Snells – Karen, Tim, Daisy and Christopher – had rented a house for a week, and they had brought both me and Snowball with them. Cats don’t normally go on holiday so we felt very lucky. When I told my friends, the neighbourhood cats, they were shocked, but we were having a lovely time so far and I thought that perhaps us cats should holiday more often. A change is as good as a rest, my first owner, Margaret, used to say, and she was right – it was just what the vet ordered.

The house itself was large, with five bedrooms, and there was a lovely open fire in the living room, which Snowball and I curled up in front of in the evenings. It was very romantic – although we had to be careful as sparks jumped out every now and then, once nearly singeing Snowball’s beautiful white tail.

We had been told that, if we went out, we mustn’t leave the garden. Our humans were worried about us getting lost – as if that would happen – but so far we had obediently stuck to exploring said garden and doing as we were told. It was a good size; pretty, with lots of interesting bushes and flowerbeds. There was enough to keep us occupied, as it was much bigger than the small back garden I had to put up with in London. However, beyond the garden, where the chickens lived, was the lure of some very lush fields. It was a big temptation for an inquisitive cat like me.

Snowball was less impressed. She’d been a rich cat before she moved to Edgar Road (my street in London), and her family had had an enormous garden in their old house in the country. She didn’t boast about it anymore, but when we first met (a time when she had done her best to be rude to me) she did a bit. But anyway, I had won her over and captured her heart and we’d been together for two years now. The best two years of my cat life.

People always seemed surprised by our relationship at first, but then cats can fall in love just as easily as humans, if not more so. I should know, as I’ve had an awful lot of experience of humans.

Being a doorstep cat, I have a wide variety of humans I call family. I visit more than one home and have many ‘owners’. As well and Claire and Jonathan, I regularly spend time with Polly and Matt and their two children, Henry and Martha, and my Polish family, Franceska, big Tomasz and their children, Aleksy and little Tomasz. I am one busy cat.

I’ve managed to bring my families together so they are all the closest of friends. In my time with them, on Edgar Road and beyond, I’ve seen so much change. Humans seem to change a lot, or at least their lives do, and us cats are often the bystanders that have to sort out the inevitable debris. I take care of my humans, it’s what I do, and I’ve seen the ups and downs, the good and bad, and even the downright ugly, but I have always taken my role of looking after my families very seriously.

‘We ought to go in, I’m getting hungry,’ I said to Snowball, licking my lips. I could have almost eaten the hen, had it not been so formidable. But then I’m not much of a hunter, and neither is Snowball; she’s far too beautiful to kill anything. I still remember how mesmerised I felt when I first laid eyes on her. Even now, after two years, I am one smitten kitten – or smitten cat, more accurately.

‘Race you back,’ she said, giving herself a head start. I bounded after her and we arrived at the open back door at the same time, both slightly breathless from the run.

‘Ah, there you two are,’ said Claire, smiling at me as we padded into the kitchen. Summer, who was two and a half years old, was balanced on her hip. Claire put a bowl down on the highchair and wrestled Summer expertly into the seat as she wriggled in protest. Summer, my human sister, was what Claire called a ‘madam’ and what Jonathan called ‘spirited’. Although she could sometimes be a pain, and tried to pull my tail a bit too often for my liking, I loved her very much. And she compensated with some lovely cuddles.

Summer smiled, picked up her spoon and threw it on the floor. She never tired of this game, although in my opinion she was old enough to know better.

‘Toast,’ she said, in her lispy voice.

‘Eat your porridge, then you can have toast,’ Claire replied sternly.

‘NO!’ Summer screamed, throwing her bowl of porridge on the floor. As usual, I had been standing too close to her highchair, and I carefully licked some of the stray porridge from my fur. When would I ever learn?

Summer was my charge, I felt. I had to look after her, even when she was being a madam. It amused Jonathan, our dad, who said he liked a woman with a strong will. I did too, which is why I liked Snowball and my best cat friend, Tiger. However, Claire found it a bit annoying, I think, although since having Summer she was so happy that I didn’t worry about her too much anymore. Not like I did before anyway.

When I first came to live with Claire she had just got divorced, and she was quite broken. It took a lot of time and effort to put her back together. But then eventually she met Jonathan, one of my other humans, and now they are happily married with their child, Summer, completing our family.

‘Alfie, Snowball, breakfast,’ sang Daisy, Snowball’s teenage owner, putting bowls of tuna down for us.

‘Miaow,’ I thanked her. Daisy was beautiful – tall and lovely. She and Snowball actually looked alike in that they both had almost white fur – or hair, in Daisy’s case. Since Daisy had turned eighteen she’d been working as a model. She was becoming fairly successful already, and that was why she’d come on holiday. She might be too busy to come away with her family in the future, if all went to plan, so she needed to take the chance while she could. Snowball missed her when she was working but was very proud of her, which was touching.

Christopher, Daisy’s sixteen-year-old brother, sat at the table eyeing Summer suspiciously, making sure he was far enough away from her to avoid being hit by any food. He was much more sensible than me.

As I enjoyed my breakfast, I basked in happiness. Although my other families weren’t sharing my holiday, it was almost perfect. I had all the other people I loved around me and of course my beloved Snowball. As the humans ate their breakfasts, happily chatting and making plans for the day, I couldn’t help but feel my heart swell. Life didn’t get much better than this.

After breakfast, the sun slowly emerged, heating the morning into a warm spring day. Summer was playing with some teddy bears on a picnic blanket in the garden, whilst Claire and Karen sat beside her, drinking tea and chatting. Daisy had gone for a run and the men and Christopher had gone to the local town to do some grocery shopping – although Claire said they’d really gone to find a pub. Meanwhile, Snowball and I were relaxing, sprawled out on a warm patch of grass.

‘This is the life.’ I stretched my paws out and rolled onto my back, letting the sun warm my fur.

‘It really is,’ Snowball replied.‘Shall we go and see if we can find some butterflies to chase?’

I didn’t need asking twice.

This place was certainly different than London. Not only were there more animals around, but there was a sort of peacefulness that I hadn’t really experienced before. And the wonderful thing was that it was rubbing off on all of us. All the humans seemed relaxed, which was nice because that didn’t happen often in London; they were usually too preoccupied with work and other stresses. We had all been through some trying times in the last few years; my humans had faced many challenges. Adjusting to life in a new country, trying to have babies, post-natal depression, bullying at school, secrets, heartache – you name it, we’d been through it. I’ve been with them through each experience and have helped to resolve many problems, if I do say so myself. I think the problems brought my families closer together, and it was nice to see that we had finally entered a harmonious phase. Long may it last.

Snowball and I found a flowerbed, which looked as good a place as any to find butterflies.

We sat silently, side by side. We were so happy together that we often didn’t need words. I actually felt as if I knew what Snowball was thinking, and vice versa. In the event, there were no butterflies, but we both dived into the flowerbed when a noisy bee appeared. We tried to lay low as the bee took what it needed from its chosen flower. I knew bees were good – I’d heard enough people saying that – but if you got too close, a sting could be pretty nasty. After the bee buzzed off we rolled around, enjoying the sun and the soft scents of the flowers. It was a pretty romantic time.

‘Alfie, being on holiday with you is the best thing I’ve ever done,’ Snowball purred, putting her paw on mine. I felt quite emotional as I looked at my love.

‘It’s the best thing I’ve ever done, too,’ I replied – and I meant it with all my heart.