A Friend Called Alfie

We’d spent most of the weekend together, been to see Dustbin, caught up with our friends on Edgar Road, hung out with Hana. It was like old times. But the saying curiosity killed the cat was actually proving to be apt, because I felt as if I was dying to know about George’s job.

I repeated my steps of the last time I tried to follow George. I was up at the crack of dawn, but then so were Claire and Jonathan.

‘Oh, Alfie, you’re up early,’ Claire said fussing me as Jonathan made coffee. I wasn’t sure what was going on.

‘I’m hopeful that I’ll get my team finalised today,’ Jonathan said, handing Claire a mug.

‘I really hope so, Jon, this is getting to all of us now.’

‘I know, darling and I am sorry but it’s just—’

‘I know, temporary. And I do understand but I think now it really is enough. You know Toby was so upset last night because he has a big science project coming up. He held it back from you because he was worried you’d be too busy.’

‘That makes me very sad, Claire.’ Jonathan sounded upset. ‘And when I get back from work tonight, I will talk to him about it, I promise. And I’ll make time to help him in any way I can.’

‘I’d quite like to spend some time with you too. This weekend you’ve been glued to your laptop, Jon.’

‘I know, and I’m sorry but I had to finalise all the reports for today, it will get better. It has to get better.’ His voice sounded sad.

We all tried so hard to believe his words but we’d heard them before. I didn’t have time to dwell on that as the children and George descended. George and I had already established that he was going to work today, so I was ready. I was more than ready.

We were interrupted by a surprise ring on the doorbell, who would be popping by before breakfast? Our morning routine was underway; the children at the table waiting for their cereal and toast, Jonathan upstairs getting ready to leave for work. As Claire opened the door, there stood Matt on the doorstep holding Pickles. I hadn’t accounted for this.

‘Thanks so much, Claire. Polly was up at the crack of dawn to get the train to Manchester and I’ve got an early meeting.’ He handed a squirming Pickles to Claire.

‘No worries, we’re all up early anyway,’ she said kindly. As Matt left, Claire shut the door behind her and put Pickles down, releasing his lead. As Pickles shuffled into the kitchen, I tried to catch him on his own.

‘Pickles, I have to tell you that I’m going out this morning, on urgent cat business, with George.’ It wasn’t strictly accurate but I needed to keep it simple for him. ‘So you need to stay here, and I’ll be back later.’ In reality I had no idea where I was going, so I certainly had no idea when I’d be back.

‘OK, Alfie,’ he said and took up his position under the table to catch the children’s scraps. Great, crisis averted – I went to watch George leave.

I tried not to act as if I was watching George’s every move, while watching his every move. No sooner had Claire rushed the children out of the house for school, George headed out. I waited a beat and went out after him.

I went through the back garden and was about to squeeze under the gate, which had been left open. I started bounding down the street after him, he wasn’t too far in front of me, and was just about the cross the road when I heard a voice behind me.

‘Wait for me.’ Oh no, it was Pickles. He caught up with me.

‘I told you to wait at home.’ I cursed the fact they had put a bigger cat flap – which they said was a doggy door – in at home and double cursed the fact the gate was open, because there was no way he would have got out of the garden otherwise.

‘Where’s the fun in that?’ he asked. ‘I wanted to go on urgent cat business.’

Yet again I had a decision to make, and no time in which to think about it. I could take Pickles home which would be the sensible option, or I could continue to follow George and hope for the best. I wanted more than anything to find out where George was going and if I went back home now, who knew when I’d get the chance again. Especially if Pickles was always going to follow me. No, I needed to make sure George was safe, that was the most important thing. Pickles would have to come with me, but I definitely wouldn’t let him cross any roads on his own.

‘Stay close to me and try not to be seen,’ I said. This was not part of my plan.

‘Why?’

‘We’re planning a surprise for George, so he can’t know we’re here yet.’

‘Oh fun!’

I shook my tail. This was anything but fun.

Tentatively I led Pickles safely across the road and followed George to the bus stop.

‘Right, come on, we have to get on the bus but no one can see us.’

We managed to get on by staying close to some human legs and then as I saw George making his way up the back of the bus, I quickly got Pickles to come with me and we hid behind a big shopping trolley at the front.

‘Be really quiet and still,’ I commanded as Pickles wiggled his bottom excitedly. I could see how George got away with it – although I was unsure how on earth he’d learnt to take the bus in the first place. Most people were staring at their phones, a couple had books, so it was relatively easy to go unnoticed. When the bus stopped, Pickles and I lurched a bit, so I sort of snuggled into him to try to keep us still. At the next stop someone stood on my tail as they were getting off. I had to bite my tongue not to yelp although it hurt. After what felt like ages, I noticed George go and wait by the doors, and I told Pickles to prepare to get off the bus. I mentally crossed my paws that he would stay close to me, I couldn’t imagine the sort of trouble we’d be in if I lost him on a bus. The bus came to an abrupt halt, and George, looking every inch the expert, hopped off. We followed managing once again to fall into step with some humans. I have to say, as the wind hit my face I felt relieved that that part of our journey was over. I was partly impressed with my kitten, that he had managed to figure this bus thing out, and part worried if he did this every day. We were lucky that he hadn’t been hurt by a human standing on him, or worse. I had found the bus ride very stressful, although that could have been down to the fact I was trying so hard to keep Pickles in line.

‘What now?’ Pickles asked. He was very excited, whereas I was worried now. We were far from home, and Pickles really shouldn’t be with me. George and I shouldn’t be this far from home, let alone the puppy.

‘Come on, we best not lose George now,’ I said, beckoning him. We followed George at a safe distance, and after a short while we came upon a large, modern building. I finally figured out where we were as the penny dropped. The vehicles parked outside were the same as the ones which had come to collect Harold when he was ill the first time. An ambulance. George had brought us to the hospital. And he seemed to think he worked here.

Confused, I ran up to the door just as he walked through. It was an automatic door, so it opened and I strode through, although there were a few people around, no one seemed to notice either George or myself. The door shut and I saw Pickles standing on the other side. Desperate not to lose George, or Pickles, I stood close to the door which opened again.

‘Hurry up,’ I said.

‘Woof woof, woof,’ Pickles replied. I saw George stop, after all us cats have excellent hearing, much better than humans. He froze for a second, as the door closed again then turned around and saw us. I braced myself as he approached me; he did not look happy.

‘What on earth are you doing here?’ he hissed. Just then the door opened and some humans walked in, Pickles happily trotted in behind them.

‘Um, we thought we would come and see Harold?’ I tried.

‘No, no you didn’t. You followed me because you couldn’t trust me about my job and now you’re probably going to ruin everything,’ he carried, on, ushering us to a doorway where hopefully no one would see us.

‘Wo—’ Pickles started, wiggling his bottom excitedly.

‘No Pickles,’ I hissed. ‘We need to be really quiet.

‘George, I admit I needed to see where you’ve been going, I was worried sick. And I’ve been trying to follow you for a while but today was the first day I actually got it right, only I got it wrong because Pickles followed, and I am sorry but I just love you so much and need to know you’re safe.’

‘Look, you’ve got what you came here for, you know where I work. Yes I work in a hospital, yes Harold is here and my job is to make people happy and not just Harold. It’s really important to me and if you’ve ruined it, I will never forgive you.’

I felt awful, I should have trusted him, but I also needed, as a parent, to know where he was going. If only he’d told me. No, actually if he told me he was doing this I would have still worried and had to follow him anyway.

‘George,’ I said, in my best parental authoritative voice. ‘I am your father and I do trust you but you have undertaken a very treacherous journey, and anything could have happened. I was worried sick about you, what if you’d been run over, or stepped on, or the bus driver caught you? Anything could have happened did you even think about that?’

‘None of that did happen though, did it? Look, Dad, I know you worry but I did this very carefully. The first time I came with Marcus.’

‘Marcus brought you?’ I asked with surprise.

‘Not exactly. I knew he was visiting Harold so I followed him, and I learnt the whole layout, then I started coming on my own, in the mornings mostly when I knew they didn’t have visitors.’

‘Why couldn’t you tell me all this?’

‘Harold said it had to be a secret or I wouldn’t be able to come anymore.’

‘I think he meant from humans. What now?’ I asked, as I noticed Pickles had become bored and restless.

‘You and Pickles go home and I’ll go and visit Harold.’

‘Um.’ I hadn’t quite thought through this part of my plan.

‘What?’ George asked.

‘I’m not sure how to get home. You see I was so busy watching you, and making sure Pickles was alright I didn’t pay that much attention to the route.’

‘OK, then how about you and Pickles wait here, stay hidden and I’ll go and visit my friends.’

‘Friends? I thought it was Harold.’

‘Dad, there are lots of lonely people on his ward who like to see me. That’s my job, I visit lonely people and cheer them up.’

‘Wow, I am so proud of you.’ I felt emotional.

‘Yes, but you’re stopping me from doing my job.’

‘Could we come and watch you, just this once?’ I asked.

‘No, absolutely not, there’s no way that I am going to let you come with me.’

‘OK.’ I resigned myself to stay hidden, and try to keep Pickles under control – goodness knows how I was going to do that. As George walked off, Pickles made a break for it and ran after him. I had no choice but to follow.

George made his way to a back stairwell where we joined him.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘It was Pickles,’ I replied truthfully.

‘It really was,’ Pickles said. ‘I am trying to be a cat so I need to cheer people up too. After all this is important cat business.’

I raised my whiskers at George, he had put the cat idea into Pickles’ head after all. George hid us round a corner until someone pushed the door open and came out from the stairwell, he hissed at us to be quick and thankfully we made it safely in just before the door closed.

‘There’s a lift,’ he explained, ‘but I can’t reach the buttons so this way I know exactly what floor to go to.’

‘You’ve really put a lot of work into this haven’t you?’ I said, impressed.

‘Of course, it’s my job as I try to keep telling you,’ he replied. ‘You don’t just sail into a job this important, you know, it takes a lot of thought and talent.’

That told me. We walked up two flights of stairs, Pickles was huffing and puffing, the dog was really unfit – compared to us anyway. When we were on the right floor, according to George, there was a wedge keeping it open.

‘Harold arranged for whichever patient is allowed out of bed, to go for a little walk, and wedge this door open, he does it every day,’ George explained. ‘The first time I came along I got stuck here for ages waiting for someone to come through, so we don’t take any chances now.’

He squeezed through the door, and then looked at Pickles.

‘Dad, if you come through we can push it open further for Pickles.’ I was beginning to think my son was some kind of genius.

It took a bit of effort but finally we were all through the door.

‘Right, this is the last bit,’ George told us. ‘The door is shut but people go in and out all the time, so what we must do is wait around the side, and as soon as the door opens we run for it. Whoever gets there first can hold the door open for Pickles,’ George said.

‘What if I get there first?’ Pickles asked. George just shook his tail. I wondered how long he would remain angry at me for.

We huddled behind a pillar and, as George predicted, someone came through and opened the door. We were about to make a run for it, but when we turned around to tell Pickles to run, we saw him running faster than we’ve ever seen him in the opposite direction.