A Cat Called Alfie

Chapter Twenty-Nine

‘Do you fancy going to the park?’ Tiger asked. We were lazing around at our patch at the end of the street. Our little gang — Elvis, Nellie, Rocky, and our newest member Tom — had been having a competition. We’d been stalking mice, but I lost as usual. Tom had won, although it was clear to us all that he was just trying to impress Tiger.

‘Sorry but I need to go home, Claire’s not herself,’ I explained. ‘Next time though.’

‘I’ll come to the park with you, Tiger,’ Tom offered, gruffly. I tried not to grin.

‘Oooooh,’ Nellie teased.

‘Shut up, Nellie. Come on, Tom, let’s go.’ Tiger stalked off without a backward glance and Tom followed. It was quite a sight to be seen. Tiger, confidently striding and the normally alpha male Tom, literally tottering after her. They did made a cute couple though, in a strange kind of way.

It was true that I was concerned about Claire. I worried that with the excitement of everything that was happening with Snowball, I was neglecting my own family. I had to do a mental inventory: Matt, Polly and the kids were definitely all right; Franceska and family, ditto; but I wasn’t so sure about Claire and Jonathan.

While Jonathan was the same as always, the reliable man I loved so much, Claire was see-sawing between being calm and angry. One minute she would seem happy, the next she would be snapping at Jonathan, or crying. I really was worried about her. I knew she wanted a baby, but I didn’t understand why she was behaving like this. Jonathan said to me the other day that he was walking on eggshells, and his patience — which wasn’t great at the best of times — was being tested.

Whenever Jonathan asked her what was wrong she would snap ‘nothing,’ in an almost hateful way. I would try to make things better by snuggling up to her, but so often she would burst into tears and I was left thinking I’d only made things worse, even when I purred in my most relaxing way. Jonathan and I were at a loss as to how we could help Claire and fix this situation.

I loved Claire so much, I couldn’t bear for her to be upset, although it seemed there was little I could do. I could see Jonathan didn’t know what to do either. He was attentive, he was loving but he didn’t smother her — Jonathan wasn’t the smothering kind. He bought her flowers, which for some reason made her cross; she accused him of trying to ‘buy’ her whatever that meant? This crazy behaviour hadn’t been going on long enough for me to be desperately worried but Claire seemed to be on a slippery slope leading her back to her self-destructive ways. Jonathan was like an innocent bystander, trying to save her but without any idea of whether or not he was doing the right thing. And I for one knew exactly how that felt.

I walked into the kitchen and it seemed my timing was impeccable. Claire was standing in front of a broken dish, sobbing. She sank to the floor, cradling her knees and sobbed even harder. I went over to her, brushing against her but she didn’t even notice. Jonathan was nowhere to be seen. I didn’t know what to do.

I needed to take matters into my own paws, so I made my way to Polly and Matt’s. They were all there as I jumped through the cat flap and into their kitchen. The children were having something to eat and Matt was feeding Martha.

I miaowed loudly.

‘Hi, Alfie,’ Matt said, as he stopped spoon-feeding Martha. Martha immediately started to cry loudly, so he continued.

At times like this I wished I could talk. Instead, I used my loudest yowl. Henry jumped and dropped his food, Matt looked at me as did Polly.

‘What’s wrong?’ Matt asked.

‘Do you think something’s really wrong?’ Polly asked. I yowled again — of course there was something wrong. I put my head back through the cat flap to indicate that they needed to follow me to Claire’s.

‘Maybe I’ll check Claire’s?’ Polly suggested. ‘Can you hold the fort?’

‘Sure thing.’

Polly stood up and headed out of the house. I followed her, keeping so close to her legs I was touching them. I wanted her to know I needed her, and this was the best way I could do that.

‘Alfie, I’m going to trip over you,’ she said, picking me up. She marched us to our front door and rang the doorbell. There was no answer. ‘Is anyone home?’ she asked. I miaowed the affirmative. She rang the bell again, her finger pressed on it insistently. Finally, Claire answered the door.

‘Bloody hell,’ Polly said as she looked at her, echoing my thoughts. Her face was streaked with tears, her hair was a mess and she looked terrible. It was as if she had morphed into someone else.

‘Thanks, Pol,’ Claire said, sarcastically, standing aside to let her in. Claire went to the living room and Polly followed her.

‘Sorry.’ Polly looked contrite. ‘What’s going on? Alfie came over, yelping and yowling, and I thought that maybe you were in trouble.’

‘I am in trouble. I hate myself at the moment, and soon I’ll drive Jonathan away. He’s been working late every night this week.’

‘What’s that got to do with things?’

‘He doesn’t want to spend any time with me and who can blame him?’

‘Don’t be crazy! He loves you, anyone can see that.’

‘He might have loved the old me but I’ve turned into some kind of mad woman that no one could love.’ She burst into tears again. Polly left the room, returning with tissues, which she handed to Claire.

‘What’s really going on?’ she asked, sitting down next to Claire on the sofa.

‘I don’t know. It’s the baby thing. We’ve been trying for ages now, and I just can’t help it but now, every time I get PMT I feel so horribly disappointed that I can’t bear it. And this time, well this time is the worst ever. For a couple of weeks now I’ve just felt evil and I know my period is coming, which makes me feel even worse.’

‘Claire, I don’t want to make things worse but you can’t have this every month.’

‘I know, but what can I do? I want to kill someone one minute and I just can’t stop sobbing the next.’ To illustrate this she burst into tears. Polly hugged her.

‘Listen, honey, this isn’t right. PMT shouldn’t be making you feel like this.’

‘Well I do. There’s probably something seriously wrong with me and I need to see a doctor. It’s probably early onset menopause, knowing my luck. Oh and look at my complexion, I’m covered in teenage acne.’

‘Claire, I don’t think this is menopause or PMT,’ Polly said gently.

‘Oh my God, you mean it’s something worse?’

‘Since when were you such a hypochondriac? No, no!’ Polly replied.

‘Well what is it?’ I’ve been pre-menstrual for a couple of weeks.’

‘Claire, do you think …’ Polly smiled. ‘Claire, do you think you could be pregnant?’

Claire looked at Polly, thunderously. Not the reaction either of us were expecting.

‘Please, sorry, I know how much you want to be, so don’t hit me, but if you’re not pregnant then you need to see a doctor about the uncontrollable mood-swings and the first thing they’ll do is make you take a test.’ Polly sounded so reasonable and calm. I was glad I’d fetched her.

‘Oh God.’ Claire looked at Polly, who displayed a glimmer of hope in her eyes. ‘Shall I do one?’ Claire was trembling.

‘I take it you have some?’ Polly asked.

‘I’ve got about fifty in the bathroom.’ That was my Claire — always well prepared.

She came downstairs a little while later. Polly was in the kitchen, having cleared up the broken bowl. Claire still looked terrible.

‘Well?’ Both Polly and I waited with bated breath.

‘Positive.’

‘You did a test?’

‘I did four. Oh my, I’m pregnant. I’m actually pregnant!’ Claire sounded shocked but with joy dancing across her face.

‘Claire, you’re having a baby!’ Polly shouted, grabbing Claire and hugging her.

‘Oh my God,’ Jonathan said, as he appeared in the doorway. None of us had heard him come in, we were so caught up. I watched as a huge smile spread across his face. Then Polly laughed, and Claire finally smiled and as Jonathan grabbed her in a huge hug they both cried and laughed at the same time. Polly quietly snuck out, as did I; it was a moment for just the two of them.

We were going to be a proper family now! I was so excited, and relieved. Now Claire would be happy again. All she wanted was a baby and now it looked as if she was getting one. We were all getting one.