A Cat Called Alfie

Four (#ulink_790c3a22-a214-5e7b-8a9d-2cac6b9e2d9b)

I was washing myself in the kitchen after breakfast when the cat flap clanged and Tiger breathlessly appeared. We often went into each other’s homes, but we had to be careful that our owners didn’t catch us as they could be a bit mean to uninvited cats. But Tiger knew that Jonathan and Claire were at work on a weekday, so she was safe.

‘What are you doing?’ Tiger asked. She sounded excited.

‘I was about to go to Polly’s. She normally takes a walk to the park, so I thought I might tag along.’

‘Well, you might want to come with me instead.’ She made it sound like a command rather than an invitation.

I followed her out. She jumped onto the fence in the back garden, then stopped and looked at me.

‘Are you OK to jump today?’ I looked back at her. My leg was feeling fine today, and I told Tiger so as I followed her.

I had been injured a couple of years ago, when Claire’s ex-boyfriend had attacked me. Although my back leg was all right now, some days it hurt more than others, and I knew better than to jump too much in general. It reminded me of what I had been through; like a deep-rooted scar. I’d been lucky to survive but I didn’t want to think about that right now.

More important things were a-paw.

I still didn’t know what was going on until Tiger led me into the back garden of number 48, to the patio doors where we could see into the house. We were staring at a kitchen/dining room like Jonathan and Claire’s. And today, we could see that the boxes had been unpacked.

‘I didn’t see any people yesterday, did they come this morning?’ I asked.

‘No, which is why I had to come and find you. I got up really early, and when I walked past the front of the house I saw that the living room boxes had been unpacked. I checked around before coming to see you but there’s no sign of any humans.’

Tiger used to do very little with her time before we became friends. Previously, I had often accused her of being a lazy cat. She had middle-aged owners who indulged her, and who didn’t have children so she was spoilt and liked her home comforts. Not that I could blame her for that, as I too used to be a lap cat when I lived with my first owner. However, my good influence was clearly rubbing off on her and since we’d been friends, she had become a bit more adventurous.

‘Let’s see if we can find the others and see if they know anything,’ I suggested. So we ran to the end of the street where we found some of our friends hanging out.

When I was attacked by Claire’s ex-boyfriend Joe, Tiger had told all the other cats how I had provoked Joe in order to save Claire from a relationship with him; a man who turned out to be a horrible bully. My plan worked a treat, despite the fact I nearly died, but after I recovered I found myself a bit of a hero among the local cats. Even Tom, who could be quite mean, showed me a grudging respect and no longer tried to fight me. I finally had cat friends who were ready to look out for me, after such a long time of feeling alone in the world.

Elvis, Nellie and Rocky all greeted us warmly.

‘Do you know anything about number forty-eight?’ I asked.

‘I do, actually,’ Nellie announced sounding smug.

‘Well what is it?’ I asked.

‘Last night it was very late, there were no lights on in any of the houses, only the street lamps. Anyway I was taking a bit of a stroll with Ronnie.’ Ronnie was another of our cat friends, but Ronnie was almost completely nocturnal and I never saw her during the day.

‘Go on,’ I encouraged. The problem with Nellie was that she liked a drama.

‘I’m getting to it. Anyway, we were strolling, but a car pulled up, as I said it was the middle of the night.’

‘Get on with it.’ Tiger scowled.

‘OK, keep your fur on. Anyway, so the car pulled up and two men got out. I guess they were unpacking but after a couple of hours, they got back in the car and left.’

‘Right, so what did the men look like?’ I asked.

‘Just two typical humans, one thin with very little hair whilst the other was fatter with grey-ish hair but that’s all I can tell you.’ It sounded like the men from the other night.

‘So as far as we know no one’s moved in there yet?’

‘Nope, they left. But it means someone will soon.’

‘Yeah thanks, Nellie, we got that,’ Tiger finished, giving Nellie a withering look.

‘You could always ask, you know, him,’ Elvis suggested. We all balked at the idea; although Elvis hadn’t mentioned his name we all knew which cat he was referring to. And this cat was not one of our friends.

‘Oh God, you could but really do you want to?’ Rocky asked.

‘It’s a last resort,’ I replied.

‘Very last resort,’ Tiger concurred. We all shuddered.

As if summoned by magic, the cat in question rounded the corner and made his way towards us. We all grouped together as Salmon approached. He was an unpleasant cat who lived with his owners, Vic and Heather Goodwin, Edgar Road’s busybodies. Salmon was as nosey as his owners and also very arrogant, and they lived almost opposite the empty house. He was a fat brown cat with mean eyes; none of us cats liked him and always tried to avoid him if we could. He was known for being a bit of a bully.

‘What are you doing?’ Salmon asked, narrowing his eyes at us.

‘We were just having a chat,’ Tiger replied, staring at him. She was the least afraid of Salmon. Nellie was almost hiding behind Elvis and Rocky looked as if he wanted to run away. Even I felt a bit uneasy as Salmon bared his sharp teeth.

‘We were talking about the new people at number forty-eight,’ I explained, trying to feel in control.

‘Oh well, that’s boring,’ Salmon said nastily.

‘Only because you don’t know anything,’ Tiger spat back. I admired her bullishness at times.

‘If I did, I wouldn’t tell you,’ Salmon huffed then, hissing nastily at us, he stalked off.

‘I hate that cat,’ Tiger said. We all silently agreed as we spent the afternoon chasing birds, in order to forget the unpleasantness.

I met Jonathan at the front door as I made it home. I was pleased my timing was so good, as I was pretty hungry after my day’s activities. I didn’t go into being a doorstep cat to be greedily eating all the time, but at the same time I did enjoy my food. What cat didn’t?

‘Hi, mate,’ Jonathan said, and I rubbed against his suit trousers, which I knew used to annoy him – apparently I left hair behind – but he was more tolerant with me these days. It had only taken three years. ‘Coming in for dinner? I’ve got you some fresh sardines from the deli, but don’t tell Claire. Luckily she’s at her book club, so it’s boys’ night in.’

I miaowed as I followed him into the house. This was a good result. A perfect result in actual fact.

Jonathan tipped my dinner into a bowl for me and then he went upstairs to take a shower. While Claire favoured packets of ‘cat’ food, Jonathan always gave me a finer dining experience. They disagreed about it but on this issue neither of them would budge. I obviously preferred it when Jonathan fed me but I still loved Claire so I tried to be grateful at the ready meals she provided for me. I didn’t want to look as though I expected fine dining but I certainly wasn’t going to turn it down.

When he came back downstairs, Jonathan was wearing his casual clothes – a T-shirt and jogging bottoms. He grabbed a beer out of the fridge and went into the living room flicking the TV on as he sank down onto the sofa. Jonathan and Claire were so different; he couldn’t be in the living room, without the TV being on, whereas Claire would often sit with a book rather than watch the square screen. I followed him in, licking myself clean after my delicious meal. Whilst Jonathan was flicking the TV channels, the doorbell chimed. As Jonathan went to open the door, I followed and was delighted to see Matt on the doorstep holding a pack of beers. Matt was Polly’s husband, a tall, quite handsome and very kind man. He and Jonathan had become good friends since my incident and the four of them often spent time together. I was often referred to as Cupid cat, as well as a cat who created friendships. It was a very good thing.

‘Free pass?’ Jonathan asked him, his voice slightly teasing.

‘Polly’s putting the children to bed, so I thought I’d see if you fancied a beer? And of course, the football’s on in a bit.’

‘Excellent. Come in.’

As Matt petted me I congratulated myself on having done good work in bringing friendships together, and maybe when the family moved into number 48, they could become part of our little world too.