The following morning, as the house began to stir, George seemed to be in shock as he sat by his bowl in the kitchen, not wanting food, but not knowing what to do. Tiger’s death had sunk in, but only a little. I tried to talk to him but he looked at me as if he couldn’t hear a word I was saying. He just sat there and I stayed close by. I didn’t know how to offer comfort any other way and I was desperately trying to suppress my own feelings for now.

We sat, side by side, as Claire ran downstairs, putting the kettle on, tipping food into a bowl for us, laying the breakfast table, before going to rouse the children. Jonathan emerged, fresh from the shower, poured coffee into two cups and took them back upstairs. Voices drifted down, children being chivvied, Jonathan looking for something, normal life going on all around us, when life felt anything but normal.

‘I need to go,’ George said, finally. His breakfast untouched, as was mine.

‘Where?’ I asked.

‘I just need to be alone,’ he said.

‘Are you sure? Sometimes it’s best not to be on your own.’ I felt panicked, I didn’t want him to leave, I wanted to stay with him to keep my eye on him. I needed him, but again, as a parent, I knew it wasn’t about what I needed.

‘I really am sure, Dad. Please, just let me,’ he said sadly and I felt I had no choice but to let him go. As I watched him leave the house again, I was tempted to follow but then I realised that I needed some time as well. I had just said goodbye to my best friend, a cat I loved with all my heart, and I was never going to see her again.

I had to trust George would be alright for now, and I needed to trust that I would be too.

I was vaguely aware of the family going about their morning business. Claire made a mention of George, but Toby assured her that he had been in bed with him last night, so they didn’t worry. I tried to eat a little but I felt the food would choke me. When something horrible happened it always struck me as odd, how normal life carried on around you.

Toby was still moaning about the nativity. Jonathan was trying to tell him how when he was a child he had always wanted to be Joseph, but that wasn’t really working. I could see this situation was likely to go on a bit: Toby threatening to refuse to be in the play, Claire trying to cajole him, Summer saying it wouldn’t be the same without him. I let it all wash over my fur. I couldn’t really bring myself to get involved or be concerned at the moment. It was too painful, too hard.

A knock at the door interrupted as we were finishing breakfast and Jonathan opened the door. I stayed where I was as he came back with Polly, Henry and Martha all ready for school.

‘Henry has something to say,’ Polly announced before anyone spoke.

‘Toby, I am sorry I said being Joseph was the worst thing ever and that Emma Roper would try to kiss you. I think it’s cool actually and I am going to be the donkey, yes, but I will look out for you and if I think Emma Roper is going to try to kiss you then I’ll try to stop her with my tail.’ Henry stood back and looked quite pleased with himself. Jonathan stuffed his fist in his mouth as he did when trying not to laugh.

‘Well, that’s very kind of you, Henry, isn’t it Toby?’ Claire said.

‘I still don’t want to be Joseph though,’ Toby said; he wasn’t going to forgive so easily.

‘I think it’s great, one day I want to be Mary,’ Martha offered.

‘Why don’t you children go and play for five minutes before we leave for school?’ Polly suggested. They all went into the living room but as chatter started up, I realised that Toby was still not really talking. It seemed the nativity issue wasn’t going to be resolved that easily.

‘Right, I better go to work,’ Jonathan said, standing up.

‘Just a minute. We were on the way and we bumped into the Barkers, down the road. They were in such a state – turns out their cat, Tiger, has just passed away. She was very ill, they’re so distraught, poor things, but I know she and Alfie were friends. And George too, I guess,’ Polly said.

‘They were, really good friends,’ Jonathan said. They all looked at me, concern across all their faces. I started yowling and I lay down, finally able to fall apart.

‘And they say cats don’t have feelings,’ Claire said, bending down and stroking me.

‘Well they do, and none more than Alfie,’ Polly added, as I just let myself go.

‘That’s awful,’ Jonathan said. ‘They’re an odd couple, the Barkers, and although not particularly warm they did dote on that cat. Claire, we should drop round some flowers.’

‘I agree, and I’ll get a card,’ Polly said.

As Claire picked me up and cuddled me to her, I showed my grief, and thought that at least my humans were lovely people, and they would show kindness to the Barkers, and I would pull myself together and take care of George. I would also have to go and see our friends later, because they would all be very upset, and I would have to learn to put one paw in front of the other and carry on. But for now, I would just take some time to wallow in my distress. As I felt the warmth of Claire’s arms around me, I couldn’t do anything else. Hearing them say it, my humans, made it abundantly real and I nestled into Claire’s arms and let despair engulf me.

When everyone had gone out, and with still no sign of George, I cleaned myself and went out to see our friends, although it was the last thing I felt like doing. I understood George’s desire to be alone, I shared it in a way, but it wasn’t necessarily healthy and I needed to tell Tiger’s friends what had happened and also find my kitten. It was too much for him to go through alone, even if he did think that was what he wanted. I mustered the tiny amount of reserve strength I had and set out.

I noticed that Connie was going out as I left but I didn’t stop. I saw that Salmon’s owners were at the Barkers’ front door, and although they were terrible busybodies, I also knew they were friends and that they were hopefully going to be able to offer some small comfort to them in their hour of need. Again I didn’t stop.

I carried on to the recreation ground, wondering if anyone would be there. It wasn’t raining, but it was still bitingly cold, and a winter wind whipped around my legs as I walked. To say I arrived looking and feeling windswept was a bit of an understatement. I was relieved to see both Rocky and Nellie there when I arrived. No sign of Elvis, but they would be able to spread the word, and I was sure that Salmon probably knew already, so I wanted Tiger’s friends to hear as soon as possible.

‘Alfie,’ Nellie said, with a sympathetic expression on her face. ‘It’s good to see you, I was wondering where you were. We heard about Tiger.’

‘I take it you guys haven’t seen George?’ I said grimly.

‘No,’ Rocky said. ‘Is the lad alright?’

‘Oh guys, I’m worried about him.’

‘Oh Alfie,’ Nellie said, coming over to nuzzle me. ‘It’s all so sad. I’m going to miss her.’ She hung her head.

‘Me too, Alfie,’ Rocky agreed. ‘It’s the saddest thing, losing someone you love.’

‘And I know we all loved her, which makes all this so hard and not just for me. George said he needed time on his own but I really just need to know he’s alright.’

I found fretting about George was overtaking my grief. I thought of two places he might be. One was Hana’s house, but I discounted that on the grounds that he wanted to be alone. Then there was the house at the end of the street with the angry man. That made more sense. He could be hiding out in the garden, and no one would know he was there. Unless the old man saw him, of course – but if he wanted to be alone, hopefully he would have kept himself hidden.

‘What do you want us to do, Alfie?’ Rocky asked.

‘Well, I wouldn’t mind some help finding George,’ I said. I found it was a bit comforting being among friends but also people who loved Tiger too. As if they would prop me up and stop me from falling. I wanted the same for George.

‘Let’s go and find this jungle of his,’ Nellie suggested. The three of us were about to set off when we saw Elvis coming towards us with George by his side. The sight of him was a huge relief. We all waited, glancing anxiously at each other.

‘Hey,’ Elvis said, solemnly, as they reached us. ‘Sorry to hear about Tiger.’ I noticed that George was looking at his paws.

‘Are you alright?’ I asked George. He swished his tail, sadly.

‘I need to go, I have to eat something and then see Hana,’ he said and without another word he left.

‘I’m guessing George’s not doing so well.’ Elvis was a master at stating the obvious.

‘It’s very early days,’ Rocky pointed out. ‘I mean, it’s barely just happened.’

‘He saw the cat he thought of as his mum die,’ Nellie pushed.

We all nodded. It was a lot for anyone, but especially for such a youngster. I knew, it had happened to me, but of course I hadn’t had anyone else to turn to then. Not the way George had. But we needed to give him time, and some space. I was gladdened by the idea he was going to see Hana; I liked the fact that George had someone who wasn’t connected to the rest of us, I think he needed that. A friend who was just his.

‘I just had an idea,’ Elvis said. We all raised our whiskers at him; he wasn’t one for ideas. ‘We should hold what the humans call a memorial or something like that, for Tiger. They go to church which we can’t do, obviously, but we can all gather here and say goodbye and talk about her. It might help the lad. It might help us all to say goodbye.’

‘Elvis, you’re a genius,’ I said. Something, again, I’d never thought I would hear myself say. ‘We’ll invite all Tiger’s friends, everyone who knew her, and make it a fitting goodbye.’

‘It’s a lovely thing to do, and sooner rather than later,’ Nellie said. ‘I’ll help organise it.’

‘And I’ll get Dustbin to come too,’ I said. ‘Let’s do it in a couple of days. Give us time to arrange things.’

‘Hopefully it will help George,’ Nellie echoed Elvis, and that seemed settled.

‘How do you know about these memorials?’ I asked Elvis.

‘I watch a lot of TV,’ he replied.

At home it was, for once, all about us cats. Toby and the nativity was a banned subject, as was Connie, Sylvie and Aleksy. Polly brought round some pilchards for George and I. And I have to say that even they failed to tempt me but I tried for Polly’s sake. Matt even came to see us after work to give us both a hug. Claire and Jonathan fussed us, more than usual. George was quieter, he ate a bit but he still refused to talk to me other than the odd word. But I could tell he appreciated the care everyone was taking of him.

That night, I tucked him up with Toby, and I nuzzled him.

‘I forgot to tell you, Hana said that someone left a dead mouse on Sylvie’s doorstep. I of course said how kind, but Hana didn’t understand – being a house cat she’s never hunted and apparently Sylvie screamed and asked Connie if she knew anything about it.’

‘Oh.’ Not the reaction I was hoping for.

‘I think she thinks it was because someone was cross with her. I tried to say we leave gifts like that as a sign of love but Hana didn’t know how to tell Sylvie that.’

‘George, it was me. I thought if we left her a gift she might feel wanted on the street.’

‘But you don’t hunt.’

‘No, I got Lucky to do it for me. Never mind, I will have to try harder.’

I knew what I had to do. I had to leave her an even better gift. Oh, so much to do but I couldn’t have Sylvie feeling sad about it, not now I’d started the plan. But I needed to talk to my son about something more important.

‘I know you don’t want to talk right now but I am always here for you, I need you to know that.’

‘I do know, but I’m so sad,’ George said. ‘And I don’t know how to act. I’ve never felt this bad before. Not even when I loved Chanel and I thought I’d drowned her.’ His eyes were so full of pain. Although the less said about that incident the better.

‘None of us do, George, but remember if you need me, or anyone, there are so many people who love you very much and we are all here for you. You don’t have to go through this horrible, horrible time alone.’

‘But I want my Tiger mum, and she’s never going to be here again.’

I had no words, as I let my kitten wail into my neck and I silently wept right along with him.

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