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‘I’m just so lonely,’ Barbara said. ‘I never lived alone before and I’m here with no friends, and any friends I hoped to have are gone because of my stupid behaviour.’

‘Hey, you weren’t yourself. And you’ve done the right thing, getting counselling, not that I ever held with it, but now I can see it’s the best thing. It’s not going to be OK overnight. And as for friends, well, yes, you did burn some bridges, but bridges can be re-built. And I’m your friend now.’ Oh Harold, I thought, I couldn’t have done a better job myself.

‘The cats are always together aren’t they?’ she asked suddenly. George raised his (still slightly pink) tail, he clearly wasn’t ready to trust her yet.

‘Yes, and you know, I didn’t think I liked cats before. George used to visit me and I’d tell him to go away but one day I collapsed and he somehow managed to get me help. They are amazing, the cats of Edgar Road – especially these three – and I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t love cats.’

Again, I couldn’t have put it better myself.

‘My husband didn’t like cats, so I suppose I didn’t either. He said they were pointless, not like dogs, but then they were the ones who caught me, weren’t they? So, not so pointless, I guess.’

I wasn’t sure if that meant she liked us now or not and I tried not to take umbrage that anyone could think cats were pointless.

‘They may take a bit of getting used to, but if you want to be friends with us, then you better start liking our cats. They’re part of the family,’ he chuckled.

‘Oh I miss having a family so much.’ She started crying again.

I glanced at George, I really needed to get home. Not only was I hungry– Harold was too busy comforting Barbara to give us snacks – but also, this room was so warm I was about to fall asleep. We all went into the kitchen.

‘We better go,’ I said. ‘But Snowball, tell us how this ends, if you can get away later. Or if not, see you at rehearsal.’

‘Will do.’ She nuzzled me goodbye. ‘And George, be patient with Hana, she’s worth it,’ she said.

He raised his whiskers.‘Seeing how sad Barbara is made me realise when we love someone we do whatever we can to keep hold of them,’ he said sadly. It was very true. And some of us weren’t lucky enough to hold on to them forever, so when you could, you should.

I had a lovely sleep, I dreamt of Christmas, dinner, all the treats, the happiness, and the show. It was all merging into one. When I woke I did think of Barbara, as she really did seem so upset and I was pretty sure she wasn’t acting anymore. But how could we convince the others to let her back in, maybe not to the show, but as a friend? She and Harold seemed to be friends now so maybe he would help her, but it would have been good if she could join the Sunday Lunch Club – I couldn’t believe I was thinking that.I was better at forgiveness than I thought.

‘Dad,’ George said, as I woke up fully.

‘Yes, son?’

‘I think we should all forgive Barbara. I was thinking how bad I felt when we lost Tiger mum and how sad I was after. I didn’t always want to be nice, did I?’

‘Neither of us did, lad,’ I said.

‘So, maybe she should have another chance, although with her it’ll be about her hundredth chance.’

‘I think you’re right. After all, what would Tiger mum do?’ We often asked this, because it kept her alive not just in our hearts, but in our lives.

‘She’d give her another chance, but she would only let her have one more,’ George said. He was right, that was exactly what she would do.

‘The thing is, I’m not sure how we get everyone to give her another chance?’ I said.

‘I don’t think we need to, I think Harold will do that,’ George said. Interesting, I thought, if he was right then I would be one happy cat.

George was spot on, as it turned out. At rehearsal that evening, Harold climbed on stage, clutching Snowball for confidence, and addressed everyone.

‘I know that Barbara messed up. She knows she messed up. But we’ve had a heart to heart and she is very sorry. She’s getting help but you know the best help is friendship. Most of you in this room, especially the cats, have taught me that, and so I’m asking you all to extend the hand of friendship.’

‘But she nearly ruined the show,’ Vic pointed out.

‘Yeah, how do we know we can trust her?’ someone else shouted.

‘Listen,’ Harold said. ‘I know she did wrong and she is going to put it right. She doesn’t have much money but she is going to donate all her husband’s clothes to the shelter, and she is also going to volunteer there to make amends. She really is trying and I think if we give her another chance to be in the show, to be friends with her, we’ll find out she really has changed; or gone back to who she was before, which I think is probably more the case.’

‘Don’t forget the Nativity is about God and what he did for the world. God and Jesus are both all about forgiveness,’ Ralph the vicar added.

‘We should give her another chance, it is Christmas after all,’ Sienna, who was so lovely, said.

‘Yeah, even though I was a trouble maker for a bit, everyone gave me another chance,’ Tommy said. I had a feeling he was more interested in impressing Sienna than worrying about Barbara. Never mind.

‘OK.’ Jonathan clapped his hands. ‘Let’s take a vote. Who votes we give Barbara another chance – bearing in mind that we can keep a close eye on her from now on. Raise your hands.’

‘I still won’t leave the hall without checking it is all fully locked, but I also think she deserves another go,’ Franceska added.

I watched, impressed, as everyone raised their hands until it was unanimous. Barbara was back in. I saw Jonathan grin as he went over to Claire.

‘No need to measure me up for a costume then,’ he said with a wink.

Chapter Thirty-Two

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‘Pickles, stop doing that,’ Polly shouted as she scooped Pickles up from where he was trying to eat the pretend Christmas presents.

‘Can you keep him with you?’ She shoved him into Jonathan’s arms, and he had no time to object as Pickles started wriggling. Pickles had a new Christmas collar on – it was decorated with Christmas trees and it made him look very festive, we all thought, although he had even tried to eat that.

It was chaos. It was wonderful. We had finally reached the dress rehearsal and backstage was mad. What we hadn’t thought of when we were rehearsing was the fact that when the acts weren’t on stage they were out front, watching. However, out front tonight was full of the people we were doing this for. Even Claire was struggling to keep everyone under control, but it didn’t matter because we were all excited and raring to go.

The hall had never looked better. The Christmas decorations were all in place, it was lit up beautifully, the curtains hung invitingly across the stage, and the smells of mince pies (not baked by Claire), and gingerbread filled the air.

The Helen Street Shelter patrons had arrived, led by Greg and some of the other volunteers. It was so real now, as they filled the hall. We had done it and it was really happening. I was chock-a-block full of emotion. We were doing it for them.

Tonight was the first time we’d all been in full costume. The dancers and the singing groups had arrived already dressed, as their costumes had consisted mainly of Christmas jumpers, and the dancers wore Christmas leggings and T-shirts, but those in the Nativity, the children, and us, had costumes to be fitted. The children were dressed as reindeer, and we were dressed as sheep, but more about that later.

‘Right, dancers get ready. As it’s so cramped back here, when you’re finished, go and sit in front of the stage, I think that’s best,’ Claire directed as she, and her clipboard, started organising the acts. She was pretty good at it, calm but just bossy enough. There was so much noise backstage, everyone was excited.

‘We need quiet,’ Franceska shouted, clapping her hands together, and everyone began to lower the volume.

There was a hush in the hall as Aleksy and Connie made their way on stage. I had to look so I squeezed through legs to the side of the stage, and pushed my head through the curtain so I could see. Not brilliantly, but I could see a bit.

‘Hello, good evening,’ Aleksy said shyly, finding his voice.

‘We’d like to welcome you to your Christmas show,’ Connie said. The crowd clapped.

‘We hope you enjoy it, but bear in mind this is our dress rehearsal, so if anything goes wrong, please be kind.’ They all laughed. ‘And after the show we would love for you to join us for hot drinks and some food,’ Aleksy added. ‘Right, well, here it is, the Edgar Road Christmas show!’

Everyone clapped as the curtains opened– much to our relief – to reveal the dancers waiting on stage.

I couldn’t see much of the show from where I stood but I’d seen most of it before, though having everyone in costume made it even more amazing. The music sounded good, and from what I could see the audience were enjoying themselves. I began to relax, and I saw from Aleksy’s face that he did too. It was all going to be more than alright.

By the time the children, who looked adorable as reindeer, mounted the stage with Pickles, the show was in full force. I had to watch this, so again, I snuck round to where I could almost see. They sang and danced enthusiastically but Pickles was trying to get his antlers– possibly to eat – and he ran around in so many circles he ended up falling off the stage.

There was a bit of a commotion, but one of the dancers caught him and put him back on stage. He seemed relatively unharmed as he resumed trying to eat his antlers. The children, professional as ever, kept going and they got the biggest cheer of the night so far.

With the Nativity about to begin, it was all still going well. Snowball, George, Hana, and myself were ready to go. We looked like sheep, and I know this because we all had the same costumes and I saw how the others looked. Even the woolly hats made us more sheep-like. Hana looked the best because she was small and round, but we all looked pretty amazing, I thought. We didn’t like dressing up, as a rule, but I was willing to make an exception. It was for a good cause.

‘Break a leg,’ George said, before we were due to go on.

‘Why on earth would we do that?’ Snowball asked.

‘Oh boy, it’s a showbiz term, means good luck,’ he hissed. ‘But you’re not supposed to say good luck as it’s bad luck and now I have. Twice. Oh no!’

‘Calm down, George, it’ll be fine, and how do you know all this anyway?’

‘I’ve been in the business longer than any of you,’ he said. Of course.

The Nativity was flawless, almost. Mary and Joseph arrived at the Airbnb on a tandem. Mary (Sylvie) had a pillow in her dress and Connie was holding Theo backstage.

‘There’s no room in my Airbnb. My business is very popular and successful; in fact I consistently get five stars on trip advisor so, no, there’s nothing for you, here,’ Polly said and everyone laughed. I didn’t get it, but it was apparently quite funny.

Before we knew it, it was our turn with the shepherds. I was actually quite nervous as I mounted the stage. My legs were shaking. I gave Snowball a reassuring look as George ran ahead. We all did our sheep impression, George bounding around taking centre stage while we hung back, pretending to eat grass as well as shuffling around a bit. I don’t think any of us wanted to steal George’s limelight, especially as the audience seemed to be lapping it up. We all became still as the lights dimmed and the song ‘While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night’ began, sung beautifully by Ralph’s choir. Then we were told about the baby Jesus and we set off to meet him after being herded up by Tomasz, who, because he had this sort of head covering on which fell over his face a bit, stepped on my tail.

‘Yelp,’ I said, not sounding like a sheep at all.

‘Sorry,’ he whispered as he adjusted his head piece. Apart from that, I thought it was a very authentic representation. And when Peter juggled the toy sheep he only dropped them once, so that was a definite improvement, as he closed our first part.

The choir sang again, and after that a break– or interval, as Aleksy called it – the stage was set and ready for the last part of the Nativity.

When we arrived at the stable where the baby Jesus was born, we all looked on curiously– not sure if sheep did that, but they did in our play. Theo started bawling suddenly, causing us all to jump back, but Sylvie put a dummy in his mouth and that stopped him. Apparently they didn’t have dummies in Jesus’ time, but as Aleksy said, needs must.

After the finale when Santa Harold came and sat in the armchair, pretended to fall asleep and the children found him there– which was a very sweet scene – he got up and started throwing treats out to the audience, who were all trying to catch them, and then as many people as possible crowded on stage and sang ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’. It was over too quickly and as the curtain closed, the audience clapped and cheered with gusto. The curtains opened and everyone bowed again. Well, we tried, but it’s not easy to bow when you’re a cat.

I was exhausted but, for some reason, I couldn’t wait until we got to do it again.

‘That was brilliant, wasn’t it, Dad?’ George said, eyes sparkling.

‘It was, George, and I now see why you were so keen about stage stuff,’ I said.

Backstage was once again chaotic as people tried to change out of costumes and props were tidied up.

‘Can I help with the cats?’ Barbara asked. I narrowed my eyes. Not likely.

‘That’d be great, thank you,’ Claire said. Barbara picked me up and I resisted the urge to jump out of her arms. She had behaved perfectly since the day that we foiled her plan, and Harold was convinced she was a nice lady. She gently took my costume off and then put me down. Wow, that felt better, my fur felt free again.

‘There you go, Alfie,’ she said, kindly. ‘You were all very good sheep.’

Maybe she wasn’t all bad after all.

Tommy and Charlie were showing Aleksy the brilliant response they had received on social media after they put some photos and teasers up. Heather was organising the kitchen and making hot drinks for everyone with some of the other Edgar Road singers, while Franceska was in charge of the food. The audience were all chatting happily, having seemed to have really enjoyed themselves. The cast was mixing with all of them, even the younger members. Summer and Martha paraded Pickles around on his lead to charmingly introduce him to everyone. Sienna and Tommy were handing out food, Aleksy and Connie were shaking hands and chatting to people. It was all truly wonderful. Barbara was being particularly helpful and she had kept her word and was volunteering at the shelter now, so she seemed to know quite a few people. Someone called for quiet again, and as we all looked on, a man, who I assumed was from the shelter, took to the stage.

‘I just wanted to say,’ his voice broke a little. Greg the manager went to join him on stage and he put his arm around the man’s shoulder, reassuringly. ‘I just want to say that this evening has been something we will never forget. We are often forgotten and sometimes we even forget ourselves. Because existing is all we can try to do, there’s no way we can think about enjoying ourselves.’ His voice broke again. Greg patted him reassuringly. My heart felt as if it was breaking a little bit for these forgotten people, and I saw many wiping tears from their eyes, including Jonathan. ‘But today, you did something great. Not only are you putting on a show to help us, which we appreciate more than I can ever tell you, but also you invited us to participate. To feel as if we are part of something, part of the community and that is something that almost never happens to us homeless people. So, on behalf of Helen Street Shelter, and all homeless people everywhere, I want to thank you for seeing us, and hearing us, and letting us be a part of something wonderful.’

Everyone clapped and cheered him, and he became the real star of the show.

A litter while later, I noticed a woman I’d never seen before taking photos as Aleksy and Connie approached her. I joined them.

‘This will go in this week’s paper,’ she said. Ah, she was from the local paper. Claire talked about them doing a piece. ‘I’ve got lots of great photos and I know this will be a wonderful Christmas story.’ She sounded emotional.

‘Brilliant! Did you enjoy the show?’ Aleksy asked.

‘I loved it. And I think people are going to love the cats as sheep and the adorable reindeer, so as well as a picture of some of the people from the shelter, we’ll use those. I assume there’s a link to buy tickets and donate?’ she asked.

‘Oh yes,’ Connie said, and smiled. ‘Let me get you all the details.’

‘Before we go, we wanted to give you some feedback,’ Aleksy said when the people from the shelter had left, so it was just us cast. It had been a long night as we stayed for ages, mixing with our guests and the children were worn out from excitement and too much sugar; they were all about to crash and I felt ready to do the same. But we all listened intently. Were they going to say anything about us sheep? I thought we did a good job, but … I held my breath.

‘You were all brilliant!’ Connie announced and we cheered, well, I mewed, but you get the idea.

‘And, the shows are all now practically sold out,’ Aleksy added, to more cheers.

‘Thank you all for your hard work. Honestly, seeing the response tonight, how much it meant to everyone in the audience, makes it feel so worthwhile, more than worthwhile,’ Claire added.

‘Can we also take a minute to say thank you to the organisers?’ Polly said. ‘Without Aleksy, Connie, and Claire there would be no show, so please, a round of applause for them.’

I looked around the room. No one mentioned me. No one. But then, I was just happy that my idea had gone so brilliantly. That was recognition enough. Or at least, it seemed it would have to be.

As we headed home, we all felt that we’d done something important tonight and everyone was happy, but also our hearts were filled with thoughts of those who didn’t have a home to head to. And that was sad beyond belief.

Chapter Thirty-Three

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In some ways the day was normal. We woke, breakfasted, then we were allowed our advent calendars. The children squealed as they opened their doors and got rewarded with chocolate. George and I waited patiently as Toby and Summer then opened ours and handed us our cat equivalent to chocolate. A very nice treat indeed. It was one of our Christmas traditions I would have been happy to keep going all year.

But the day wasn’t normal, because it was opening night. We were all excited, nervous, and ready to go all at the same time. The dress rehearsal had been so special, it gave us a confidence in the show that really pushed us all forward. We had also become far more sure about our ability to make it a success. Even with the small mistakes made, which, by the way, I didn’t notice, the audience had loved it and that was what mattered. The best news was that all three shows were now sold out. The local paper had written a piece saying the show was ‘full of Christmas spirit’ and as a result we had sold allthe tickets. Donations had also been coming in. Our house was full of gifts that had been wrapped for the people in the shelter; there were so many that Tomasz was going to collect them with his van and we were going to deliver them after the show was finished, just in time for Christmas.

I had mixed feelings thinking about the show being over. It would be sad in so many ways but also good. We could think properly about Christmas then, which we hadn’t had much time for, although the turkey had – thankfully – been ordered. The children had written their letters to Santa and were excited but also tired because there was a lot going on at school on top of the show. Actually, we were all quite tired. We had rehearsed and rehearsed, and now we were coming towards the end. Sad, but happy too. We had a lot to look forward to after the show but I might miss being a sheep sometimes. I would definitely miss the applause.

‘We are going to be so worn out when this is all over,’ Snowball said.

‘I’m already quite exhausted,’ Hana replied. Poor thing, she did look weary.

‘Hey, maybe after Christmas Theo will start sleeping more,’ I chipped in cheerfully.

‘We can only hope.’ She did sound a little dejected and I hoped George wasn’t giving her a hard time, but he was off practising his prancing so I couldn’t ask him.

I managed to look out and see that the hall was packed full of people. People who had paid money to come and see us. I knew some of them were friends and family of the cast but still, it made me feel proud and warm inside. It really did make me think of embracing the show business bug, as George said. How he had it after his very brief appearance I will never fully understand, but here, with the lights and the audience and the music, it was intoxicating. Perhaps Ishould have been a showbiz cat!

Barbara was doing funny vocal exercises, which she said would help everyone warm their voices and they were all going along with her. Vic and Heather had fully forgiven her now, which meant the rest of their singing group followed suit.

‘Meowwwwwww,’ I tried to join in but I couldn’t make the right sounds. Everyone laughed.

‘Oh Alfie, you are such a funny cat,’ Barbara said. I still couldn’t quite get used to the fact she seemed to like us now. Trust was hard to give to someone who had tried to injure you more than once, but I was trying.

‘We have our own warm up,’ George said, to me, Snowball, and Hana.

‘We do?’

‘Yes, swish our tail, raise our whiskers, stretch our paw and say Mewmewmewmew.’

None of us thought it was doing anything at all, but we humoured him.

And then the curtains opened, the lights came on, the music started and the dancers began their dance.

The first proper night of our Christmas show began.

I decided, after three long shows, that I wasn’t actually cut out to be a showbiz cat after all. It was the last show and I was exhausted. It had all gone swimmingly, Pickles didn’t fall off the stage but he had lost his antlers a couple of times and somehow managed to get covered in glitter. Theo was sick over Sylvie when she was holding him, but it was only a little bit and he slept brilliantly through two of the shows, which they said meant he would be awake all night.

Barbara sang a bit too loudly in her solo part and in the group songs but no one seemed to mind. I think she was still a bit disappointed to be a wise man as she did make a bit of a meal out of her‘we come bearing gifts’ line. Ralph the vicar had already invited her to join his church choir and she’d said she’d love to. We cats were purrfect as well, not a paw out of place. We really were very good sheep, even if I do say so myself. I think everyone, on the whole, did a very good job.

It was time for the last scene of the last paid-for show.

‘I have an idea,’ George whispered to us as we had now been relieved of our sheep costumes. ‘Why don’t we go on stage one last time and we can pretend to sleep by the fire and then we can get up and join in with the last song.’

‘That is a great idea, George, let’s go!’ We couldn’t persuade Snowball and Hana, who were taking a break and having a rest, but we both went on stage and when the curtain opened we were pretending to be asleep by the fire.

The set was really quite lovely, a fake fire glowed in the hearth, a mantelpiece with stockings hung, and in front of the fire sat a mince pie and a glass of milk. There was a big tree, sparkling with lights and decorations and presents– which were fake and had been rescued a number of times from Pickles’ trying to eat them, and an armchair.

Harold was relishing his role as Santa. He mounted the stage saying‘Ho, Ho, Ho,’ and swung his sack around to put it down. Then he made a fuss of the mince pie and milk and if he was surprised we were there he didn’t show it. Maybe he’d had acting lessons from his new friend Barbara, I thought. He sat down in the chair, and he started snoring, which sounded real and a bit like a freight train. There were some giggles from the audience.

Toby, Henry, Martha, and Summer came on stage in their pyjamas all yawning and stretching, as if they had just woken up.

‘Let’s see if he’s been,’ Henry said.

‘He has, he has,’ Martha said.

‘But look, he’s still here,’ Summer exclaimed.

‘Wow, that’s amazing,’ Toby finished. However, as it turned out. Harold had actually fallen asleep and he kept snoring as Toby and Henry prodded him. The audience laughed as if it was part of the show. I looked at George.

‘Let’s go wake him,’ I suggested. We got up and jumped onto Harold – Santa’s – lap, mewing with all our might.

‘What the hell?’ he shouted, startling awake. The audience laughed again. ‘I mean, Ho, Ho, Ho, I’ve been rumbled.’

As the children and Santa walked to the front of the stage to sing the final song, George and I joined them, and as Harold threw sweets into the audience, I felt quite emotional. Yes, we would be doing it again for the Sunday Lunch Club, but not with everyone, and so, really, this was our last full show. And it had been wonderful. As the audience clapped and cheered, George and I took our bows– which we still couldn’t quite master. But, we really were showbiz cats right at that moment.

Aleksy, Connie, and Claire climbed on stage and Greg from the shelter came up with them.

‘We haven’t got the final figure yet as money was still being donated, but we have raised at least three times as much as we set out to do,’ Aleksy said and everyone clapped.

‘Thank you for coming to our show, it has been a real pleasure to work on and thank you to the cast who worked so hard, the backstage crew for all their amazing work, and, well, just thank you to everyone for making it such a success,’ Connie said. Aleksy and Connie held hands. Their confidencehad grown amazingly since doing this. Smiles were so bright and everyone radiated happiness. It was a moment I never wanted to forget.

‘I would like to say, on behalf of Helen Street Shelter, that we cannot thank you enough. Not only did we get to enjoy your wonderful show ourselves, but the money you have raised will make a real difference. This is a wonderful community, and I think this show has proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt,’ Greg said. There were more cheers and photos taken. Apparently we would be in the papers again. Honestly, I hope all this fame didn’t go to our heads! It probably would though.

‘We came to see you,’ Nellie said after the final show. The humans all still chatted inside and we had managed to get out for some fresh air and a bit of space.

‘You did?’ I was touched.

‘What a fine show and what fine sheep you were, not that I’ve ever really seen a sheep,’ Elvis said.

‘Oh the singing though, that was something else. I loved it. My owners were in the audience but we hid,’ Rocky added.

‘Because you didn’t buy tickets, did you?’ George grinned.

‘How can we, we’re cats?’

‘It’s thanks to you that this show made it, and now it’s finished.’ I felt quite emotional.

‘We didn’t do much, Alfie,’ Rocky said.

‘You did, you helped us save the show. And Salmon, is he here?’

‘Yes but he went straight home, just in case his owners check his camera collar.’ We still hadn’t figured out how to get that thing off him, so it looked as if he was stuck with it. Thankfully, Salmon was always on his best behaviour anyway. ‘Also, he said his owners were talking about bringing him here on Christmas Day when you do your last performance.’

‘I’m sad that that’s going to be our last show,’ George said. ‘I’ll miss it.’

‘Actually, so will I,’ Hana said. ‘It’s been a real experience being a sheep.’

‘There’s always next year,’ Nellie said and I wasn’t sure if she was joking.

‘I’m not sure I would be able to cope with this every year,’ I said.

‘Not if we have all the drama as well,’ Snowball finished.

I felt reflective as we headed back to our own homes.

‘Oh my goodness, Alfie,’ Snowball said. ‘I think it’s snowing.’ We looked up as a soft cold snowflake landed on my nose.

‘It is, it’s snowing! How magical,’ I said, running around in circles. It was only a light dusting but it still made me feel even more like Alfie the Christmas cat.

Chapter Thirty-Four

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It was here. Finally. George and I loved every minute of Christmas Day because the excitement never waned. From the children waking up early– they always woke far too early – to going downstairs to see if Santa had been, lunch, family, friends, and of course today we had the added bonus of the show to look forward to. Our last ever performance. I know we felt the last paying performance was the last one but that was because that was the one where we had all the cast. As expected not everyone could make it today. The dance crew were all in different places, as were the school singers, however everyone else would be there – Vic, Heather, and their group were going to be one or two short but Vic was going to double up on the ‘Twelve Days of Christmas’; he was days five and seven, or something like that. Ralph had most of his choir. Of course we were all there, and much to Tommy’s delight, Sienna would still be the angel; her grandparents were staying for Christmas so they were coming to see it. Tommy’s crush on Sienna was so sweet and I kept trying to think of ways to get them together, always the matchmaker. I couldn’t help it, it was in my blood.

I snuck outside and saw that although some of the snow had settled, there wasn’t much, which was good because it meant everyone could still make it to lunch without getting stuck, or skidding too much. Barbara was eating with us today. George hadn’t quite forgiven her yet but I was happy about it.

Harold and her were getting closer and I wondered where that friendship might lead… Not yet, because she was still grieving her husband, but maybe one day in the future. Who knew? Maybe next year I would be Alfie the matchmaking cat again.

For now, I just wanted to enjoy my Christmas Day. It had been an exhausting, stressful, wonderful run up to Christmas and it was going to be the best day ever. I did say that every year, but it generally was.

After the children opened their presents, and Claire and Jonathan made us all a delicious breakfast of smoked salmon, George and I went our separate ways. Although we were going to have lunch with Hana, he wanted to wish her Happy Christmas first. Young love; he couldn’t wait. I was pleased that he had stopped moaning about her and they seemed to be back on track. Paws crossed. I made my way to the recreation ground to find Nellie, Elvis, Rocky, and Oliver there.

‘Merry Christmas,’ I said.

‘Hey, Happy Christmas, Alfie,’ they replied as one.

‘How has yours been so far?’ I asked.

‘Got my usual cat Christmas stocking, can’t complain,’ Rocky said.

‘I got some fish for breakfast,’ Nellie said.

‘I got this toy mouse on a stick, what do they think I am – a kitten?’ Elvis added.

‘I got a new cat bed, which looks very comfortable, but I haven’t tried it yet,’ Oliver finished. We all compared notes and had a lovely catch-up before we returned to our homes for the rest of Christmas.

I was still feeling full of festive spirit. And smoked salmon. It was noisy at home– of course it was, it was Christmas. The children were being wrestled into clothes – they would have happily stayed in their pyjamas all day, but we had lunch to go to and a show to do. Jonathan was about to leave to pick up Clive and Doris; they had coordinated lifts for everyone to the restaurant, which was a bit like organising a military operation, Jonathan said. I thought it sounded as complicated as organising my humans, in actual fact. Or perhaps not quite that complicated! By the time we were all ready to head out, it was beginning to feel as if order was almost restored. As the adults all met outside our house, most carrying presents, the children took it in turns to hold Pickles’ lead. We followed them, and although tempted to jump into Theo’s pram and get a ride, we all walked. It wasn’t snowing, but it was cold and bright.

‘Happy Christmas, Alfie,’ Snowball said, falling into step with me. Harold wasn’t carrying her for once as Marcus had driven him, picking up Barbara and some of the Sunday Lunch Club before meeting us there.

‘Happy Christmas my beautiful Snowball,’ I replied.

‘It’s going to be amazing,’ she said. Her eyes sparkled with joy and my heart filled with happiness. It was already amazing. I felt like the luckiest cat ever.

Chaos and noise returned as we walked into the restaurant. Hugs and kisses were exchanged and the presents all piled up– out of Pickles’ reach, of course. The tables had been put together around the room to fit us all in; there were a lot of us today. We greeted all our friends, old and new, and then snuck into the yard to see Dustbin and Ally.

‘Can’t you take a day off?’ I said, which I pretty much said every Christmas.

‘The rodents don’t know it’s Christmas, so no,’ Dustbin replied, but we all laughed.

‘We are going to come and see the show later though,’ Ally said.

‘I’m so excited that you are,’ I said. Since we had joined the last scene of the show on a whim, or actually, on George’s suggestion, Aleksy declared that we should have been in it all along, so we were going to do the same today. Better late than never, I guessed.

‘I’m probably the most professional out of all of us, but they didn’t do a terrible job,’ George added, joining us.

‘I thought you were looking after Hana,’ I said.

‘She is having a quick rest. The walk here has worn her out,’ George replied.

‘Are you sure she’s OK?’ Snowball asked. Hana had made all the shows but otherwise we’d barely seen her.

‘She’s just tired out. She says after Christmas is over she’ll be her old self again.’ George didn’t sound concerned so I decided not to worry. That was the gift I wanted for Christmas: a worry-free day.

The noise level from inside told us that everyone was finally here. We went back in.

‘Secret Santa,’ Claire announced. As there were so many of us for lunch, the humans did something called a Secret Santa, whereby everyone bought one gift for someone else.

‘Can we give them out?’ Summer asked. Thankfully, Harold had been persuaded not to wear his Santa costume all day, otherwise he might have insisted it was his job.

‘Of course, sweetheart.’ The children all dove in and started distributing gifts. As chocolates, bath stuff, scarves, and things like that were all opened, everyone declared themselves delighted with their presents. Even Barbara beamed with happiness. We didn’t get to participate in present giving.

‘I’ve got something for the cats as well,’ Doris said. Oh, maybe we did this year. I felt excited.

‘Oh no, not another cat bonnet,’ George hissed at me. Ah, I hadn’t thought of that. But actually, she had made us Christmas hats – Santa hats – and we had to wear them now. Mine kept slipping down over one of my eyes, which was most irritating, but I didn’t want to offend Doris. George said his made his fur itch.

‘It’s only one day, son,’ I assured him as Snowball tried not to laugh at us.

‘I wish I had one, I liked wearing antlers,’ Pickles said. If George could have given him his, he would have done.

‘Pickles, you’ll get to wear your antlers again later,’ I assured him.

‘Yay!’ He did a little wriggle with excitement.

‘Alfie, George, come here so I can take a picture of you in your hats. Social media will love this,’ Tommy said, and took a photo of us with his phone. Apparently we were on our way to becoming Instagram famous, not that I knew what that was.

For me, the best part came next. Christmas dinner. We cats were given turkey and we tucked in. Dustbin and Ally also had some, but out in the yard. Hana seemed to have perked up as she ate with gusto, but then she said she was too full, and she waddled to the corner and lay down. She did look full, I had to say, but we all ate a bit too much at Christmas. Humans and cats alike.

Games were played with the children, the adults, and Tommy and Aleksy organised them. A couple of members of the Sunday Lunch Club fell asleep in their chairs, and I wished I could join them but there was still so much to do and I didn’t want to miss a single minute. Some of the adults cleared up, with Franceska and Tomasz in charge, and all in all, it was a huge amount of fun.

‘Could I say something?’ Barbara asked. George gave me a ‘look’.

‘Of course, Barbara,’ Claire said.

‘God, I hope it’s not anotherHamlet monologue,’ Jonathan muttered. Claire poked him in the ribs as Matt laughed.

‘I would like to say that this has been the most difficult year of my life. And I have behaved badly, unforgivably so. But you all took me in and forgave me. Not only that, but you also invited me to part of this wonderful Christmas. I don’t know how I will ever thank you, but know that if anyone ever needs anything, I will be here for you all.’ She started crying. I gave George one of my ‘be compassionate’ looks as Harold went over to Barbara and put his arm around her.

‘Do you think they might be a couple?’ George asked me.

‘I don’t know. I think it’s probably too soon after losing her husband for her.’

‘Just as well, imagine poor Snowball having her as a human step-mum.’

‘George, I think she’s sincere and nice now,’ I chastised.

‘Well I still have a pink tail that says otherwise.’

Shortly after that, we were told it was time to go because this Christmas Day we were going to perform our final, final show.

As coats were put on, lifts organised, and presents put in bags to go home we all left and made our way to the hall. And I resolved that although I had worked hard at all my shows, I would give this one my all, as it was the last ever time I would be a sheep.

Chapter Thirty-Five

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It was easier getting ready for this show with fewer people in the backstage area, but we did miss the acts that couldn’t be here. While we changed, the Sunday Lunch Club were all chatting to each other with Christmas music playing in the background and Claire making sure they were all alright, which involved waking a few of them up. I could understand – a big lunch made us all sleepy – but we had a show to do. No time to rest yet.

Without the dancers to open, the kids and Pickles opened the show. As they launched into the by now well-known routine, the whole hall erupted with cheers.

By the time we got to the finale I was full of mixed feelings yet again. Happy that we had performed yet another successful show, sad that it was all over for the year and also sad that Christmas Day was coming to a close. The following day we had smaller family gatherings to look forward to, and the older children were going to go and volunteer at the shelter in the evening, which made me so proud of them. I planned to go to give them a paw.

Aleksy and Connie were overjoyed as the final curtain fell, and Tommy was so excited he actually gave Sienna a hug. When I saw them both blushing red, I thought perhaps she had fallen for his charms after all. Then I noticed them holding hands. Maybe I didn’t need to matchmake … Another teenage romance to look forward to, that was my prediction. And we all liked Sienna, she was such a sweet girl.

At the end of the show there were lots of hugs and congratulations; everyone had enjoyed it more than they imagined. And as mulled wine was handed out and mince pies eaten– although how anyone had any room, I will never know – I flitted around, listening as our guests all seemed to be happy and complimentary about the show and the lovely Christmas they’d had. There was nothing I liked more than seeing happy people. It warmed my heart. It was what Christmas wasall about.

I loved Christmas Day, I really did, but I always felt a bit sad when it came to a close. We had spent so long planning for it and working to make it amazing– and it was – but it seemed to go far too quickly. I had to look around and take a snapshot for my memory. The show, the hall which we might not see again – at least not for a while; the Sunday Lunch Club, who were all having the most fun, social time, rather than being on their own; my own families, who were smiling and laughing; my son, who I couldn’t have been more proud of; and Snowball, my love. Life was complete … I would hold the picture in my mind forever. There was nothing, simply nothing, that could make this day any better.

‘Dad, I can’t find Hana,’ George said in a panic, interrupting my sentimental moment.

‘Well she can’t be far.’ I looked around but couldn’t see her either. We had a quick search of the hall – under chairs, in the kitchen, the backstage area – but we couldn’t see her at all. Oh no, today of all days I really didn’t need another crisis.

‘What should we do?’ George asked, getting more and more upset.

‘Let’s go find Connie, make a lot of noise and hopefully she’ll find her,’ I said.

‘Anything we can do to help?’ Dustbin and Ally, who had stayed hidden at the back of the stage, came forward.

‘Amazing show by the way,’ Ally said.

‘Just keep your eyes out for Hana,’ I said. ‘We’ll go and get Connie.’

Connie was talking to a group of people when we approached her.

‘Meow,’ I said.

‘MEWMEWMEW,’ Snowball shouted.

‘YOWL!’ George added.

‘What is it?’ Connie turned and looked at us. ‘Where’s Hana?’

‘MEOW!’ We don’t know. She started looking.

‘Has anyone seen Hana?’ she shouted. The hall stopped talking, and started looking for her. Some people didn’t know where to look so they just glanced around, puzzled. But there was no sign of her. Hana wasn’t the sort of cat to wander off, that much I knew, but she had been tired. I hoped she’d just fallen asleep somewhere, but where? We had looked pretty much everywhere we could think of. Oh, no, poor Hana. It better not be Barbara.

‘Have you seen Hana?’ Aleksy asked Barbara.

‘No I haven’t, honestly. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt any of your cats,’ she said quickly.

‘I was asking not accusing,’ Aleksy said.

‘Hey, we’ll find her, son,’ Harold said, putting his hand on Aleksy’s shoulder. It must have crossed some people’s minds that Barbara might have had a relapse, I know it crossed mine.

‘Hana, Hana,’ Franceska and Sylvie were both shouting. There was still no sign.

We carried on looking, getting more and more frantic. She can’t have disappeared into thin air.

‘Um, George, Alfie, I think you better come back here,’ Dustbin said. ‘Backstage.’ We followed him. Because the final scene was the Santa scene, the Nativity set had been moved into the area behind the stage. As we approached, we could all hear a noise which sounded strange, alien almost.

‘What is it, have you found her?’ George asked.

‘Um, yes, and you better come,’ Ally said. Thank goodness Dustbin and Ally had kept their word and come to see the show, they were pretty good at finding people, as Dustbin had helped me a long time ago when Snowball got lost.

We made enough of a racket to get Connie to follow us yet again, Aleksy with her. I hoped nothing was wrong as Dustbin led George to the stable and the manger where baby Jesus had been lying on a soft blanket– in case Theo turned out to be allergic to hay – not that long ago.

‘Oh my,’ George said. ‘Hana, are you alright?’ I couldn’t see what was going on but George’s eyes were like saucers.

Hana made a small noise but she didn’t sound alright. I tried to get nearer, but it wasn’t easy.

‘Mum, you better come,’ Connie shouted, and the adults rushed over. I still couldn’t see what had happened as I got pushed further back, panic building in my fur.

‘Oh my goodness she’s had kittens,’ Sylvie said. I looked at George who was staring into the manger and standing very still.

‘Kittens?’ I thought, what on earth?

‘Jonathan,’ Claire shouted.

It was crazy for a few minutes.

‘Is there a vet here?’ Marcus shouted, as he held on to Theo.

‘How did this happen?’ Jonathan asked Claire. ‘I thought you’d had George, you know …’ He made a scissor sign, but I had no idea what that meant.

‘I thought you did,’ Claire said, scratching her head.

‘And Hana was a house cat so it didn’t occur …’ Sylvie added.

One of our Sunday Lunch Club pushed through; a man who I think went to the Barkers’ house.

‘I used to be a vet, let me through,’ he said.

I sat down. Kittens? I was in total shock. As, it seemed, was George, who still hadn’t moved.

‘Can we see them?’ the children all said as they tried to push through.

‘Give them space, darlings, just for now,’ Polly said, holding them back.

‘Mother and three babies are fine,’ the vet declared. I really wanted to see them, so I finally managed to snake my way through legs to where George was standing. Lying in the manger was a very tired Hana, and three kittens who looked like a cross between both of them. I felt absolutely choked up. My kitten had kittens.

‘It’s a Christmas miracle,’ Toby declared.

‘Kittens born on Christmas Day, in a manger, like Jesus,’ Summer added. ‘Can we call one of them Jesus?’

I hoped we could not. Imagine calling him in from outside, that was, if there was a him. I couldn’t tell, they were so tiny, so beautiful; it really was a miracle.

‘Oh my goodness, George and Hana have become parents,’ Claire wiped a tear. ‘This is truly miraculous.’

‘Amazing that no one noticed the cat was pregnant,’ Jonathan said.

‘We’ve been so wrapped up with Theo, I feel so guilty,’ Sylvie said, she was crying too, but I hoped they were happy tears. Marcus hugged her.

‘All’s fine here, you’ll need to get them home carefully, make sure they are fed and after Christmas, take them to your own vet for a proper check-up,’ the retired vet said. He looked quite nice, for someone who used to like prodding and poking us about, anyway.

‘What an end to the best Christmas ever,’ someone said as they all toasted Hana and her babies with their sherry or mulled wine.

Franceska was crying and Tomasz had his arm around her, with Aleksy and Tommy close by. Sylvie was holding baby Theo, and Marcus and Connie stood beside her. Polly and Matt had their arms around Henry and Martha. And Claire, Jonathan, Toby and Summer were all huddled together. All our families and our new additions.

George and I stood a little apart as the retired vet cleaned up the kittens and suggested that they should transport Hana and her babies home in the manger, as it seemed safest not to move them.

‘There are two boys and a girl,’ he declared.

‘Can I hold them?’ Martha asked.

‘Not yet, love, but soon,’ Polly assured her. As many people as possible were crowded round the manger. George and I reversed ourselves to an open bit of space, because for now we couldn’t get near.

‘Are you alright son?’ I asked after a minute.

‘I’m in shock. Wow, Dad, I’m a dad. An actual dad. I mean … I had no idea … All this time, Hana was tired and a bit sick and then she put on weight but none of us had a clue.’

‘And now you’re a dad. To three beautiful kittens – two boys and a girl. Who would have thought it?’ I said, still stunned.

‘It explains so much. Poor Hana, not knowing,’ Snowball said as she joined us.

‘Congratulations, George, what a wonderful thing to happen,’ Dustbin said.

‘Well, I never. I think that a celebration is definitely on the paws,’ Salmon said, joining us.

‘What is it?’ Pickles asked. The humans had somehow dropped his lead in the fuss. I hoped he behaved himself.

‘Hana had kittens,’ I explained, still unable to fully process it.

‘Can I eat them?’ Pickles asked.

‘NO!’ we all shouted at the same time.

Somehow we all ended up back at Sylvie’s house; it seemed everyone wanted to check the kittens were alright. Franceska had driven them, with Sylvie in the car, and George had gone along with them. When they’d arrived home, Hana and the kittens had been moved from the manger to Hana’s soft cat bed.

‘Can we call the girl Holly?’ Summer asked,

‘Ah, yes that’s a lovely name for a girl kitten,’ Connie said. Um, I had to say I quite liked it.

‘Jesus,’ was suggested.

‘No, honestly, just no,’ Polly said.

‘How about Santa?’ Franceska suggested.

‘Oh, I really like that,’ Sylvie said and everyone agreed. ‘Santa and Holly and …’

George turned to face me and blinked. I understood immediately. I wasn’t sure how to convey it but I stepped on Jonathan’s foot.

‘Not again,’ Jonathan said.

‘Meow,’ I said, trying to paw his trousers. George then joined me. We took a leg each. Matt laughed but Jonathan was trying to shake us off.

‘What are they trying to tell you?’ Claire asked. Jonathan paused and looked at me. Finally I saw him seem to understand.

‘Oh, why don’t we call the last kitten Tiger? You know, after that cat that Alfie and George seemed very fond of – the Barkers’ cat who died,’ he suggested.

‘What a lovely idea,’ Marcus said. ‘Tiger is a great name for a kitten.’

‘But wasn’t she a girl?’ Claire said.

‘Yowl.’ It doesn’t matter, I replied.

‘It can be a boy’s name too,’ Aleksy said.

‘Mew,’ Hana said, quietly.

‘Meow,’ George added.

‘Purr,’ I finished.

Tiger was a very fitting name indeed, and a very fitting tribute. Jonathan was rewarded with a nuzzle.

‘My lad, a dad,’ I said to George as we snuck away slightly. ‘Who’d have thought it. I really can’t wait to see them properly.’ Emotion welled up inside me. My boy, my kitten, was a dad. I probably had to stop calling him my kitten now.

‘I know you probably want to stay,’ I said to George, ‘but I’m going to have a last breath of air, just for a minute.’ It was our Christmas tradition, to go and speak to Tiger on Christmas night. And despite everything that had happened, it was important for me to do so.

‘I’ll stay here,’ Snowball said, knowing instinctively, as she always did, that I needed to be alone, or alone with my boy.

‘I’ll come; just for a minute though,’ George said.

We sat outside and found the brightest star in the sky.

‘I’m a dad, Tiger mum,’ George said. ‘And we’ve named one of the kittens after you.’ I could barely keep my emotions in.

‘George, you will be an amazing dad,’ I said. I meant it.

‘Wow, it hasn’t sunk in yet, a dad. Three kittens, it means—’

‘It means you are going to be very busy. I just had you, and you kept me on my paws.’ I laughed, but was choked up at the same time.

‘Oh, Dad, you are the best dad ever.’

‘And now you are going to be too,’ I said.

‘And you are going to be the best granddad ever,’ George said.

‘Oh boy, I’m a granddad cat – a grandcat! Wow, I mean …’

‘You can help me and you will teach those kittens everything you know, like you did me,’ George said.

‘And we will love them so much, we really will.’ I already did. Those tiny bundles of fur who would no doubt keep both George and I on our paws for a good while to come. I nuzzled my boy. He nuzzled me back.

Just as I thought my heart was as full, as full and as big as it could ever be, it suddenly grew once again.

A CHRISTMAS TAIL

My kitten George was tangled in tinsel once again. I wasn’t sure how he managed it, but since the Christmas decorations had gone up – promptly on the 1st December, George had been up to no good. My owner Claire liked to enjoy the run up to Christmas fully, whereas her husband, Jonathan said it was far too early, but he was a ‘bah humbug,’ whatever that was. We all knew it wasn’t a compliment though.

However, since having to rescue George from the Christmas tree a number of times, untangle him from tinsel and keep him away from the dancing Santa who he kept trying to attack, I was beginning to feel on Jonathan’s side. It was exhausting and we still had over two weeks to go. I wasn’t sure the decorations, or me for that matter, would survive.

It was George’s first Christmas, so I was trying to be patient. Although I was pretty sure that when I was a kitten I didn’t cause this much havoc. George was so excited, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. A bit like the kids.

‘Thanks for getting the naughty tinsel off me,’ George said.

‘Again.’ I raised my whiskers. ‘Please try to stay away from it. And the tree, and well, everything.’

‘I really will try but I can’t promise anything. What I really want to know though, Dad, is what Christmas is actually for.’

‘Well that is a good question,’ I replied. And one I wasn’t exactly sure how to answer. I had gleaned a lot of information in my life, but still, Christmas was well, it was just Christmas. I had never really thought about what it was actually for. When I was a tiny kitten, Christmas was a quiet affair, just me, my sister cat Agnes and my owner Margaret, she would invite a friend who was also on her own for the actual day, and Agnes and I got plenty of treats. But then when I moved to Edgar Road (after Margaret and Agnes were gone and I was all alone in the world), Christmas was very different. Children were involved, presents piled under Christmas trees, there were parties and lots of noisy fun, although I still got plenty of treats. I looked at George, stalling.

‘Why do you ask?’ My go-to delaying question.

‘Well, there’s a lot of stuff going on and I don’t know exactly understand what it all is.’ When he looked at me with his big, innocent eyes, I felt my heart burst with love. I have loved many people, and cats in my life, but the love I have for my kitten, is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I have heard many human parents saying this and now I understood.

‘So, son, what do you think Christmas is for?’ Yes, I was deflecting a bit, but I still needed more time.

‘Well, I have tried to pay attention but everyone seems to think it’s for different things. Summer says it’s for Peppa Pig toys which Santa is going to bring her.’ He looked so serious as I nodded. ‘And Toby, well he says, when we’re alone, that he didn’t much like Christmas before but this one is going to be the best one ever, but he’s nervous too because he doesn’t know what a Christmas really is either.’

I felt a stab of sadness when George said this. Toby had had a rotten time before we adopted him this year at the age of five, and he was the loveliest, sweetest child ever. This was the first year in his life that he’d even had a Christmas tree. A heartbreaking, sobering thought.

‘It will be,’ I promised, resolving that I would do everything in my power to ensure it was.

‘Claire keeps saying it’s a time to be with everyone you love and also to think of those who don’t have as much as we do. She says that it’s our responsibility to help those less fortunate. But I don’t know how to find these unfortunates.’

‘Well, son, there are lots of people and cats who aren’t as lucky as us, but we should just keep our hearts open and if we are needed, be there to help.’ As many parental conversations went, this wasn’t my finest. Sometimes the kittens seemed to be more intuitive than the grown-ups.

‘Oh, and Jonathan says Christmas is for throwing all your money away on one day, which goes past really quickly and, quite frankly, could be better spent elsewhere.’ As George looked at me in confusion, I felt my heart melt yet again.

‘I guess Christmas is all those things,’ I started, trying to ensure my voice was confident. ‘Well, apart from Jonathan’s explanation. It’s the presents that someone called Santa brings, it’s about family, it’s about counting our blessings, and most of all it’s about family and friends.’

‘And pilchards?’

‘Yes, if we are lucky.’ We both licked our whiskers.

George took our chat to heart. As December began to pass us by, George showed affection to everyone, cat, person, lamppost. He even tried to befriend a neighbours dog but, was growled at in return, so decided to take dogs off his Christmas list. It was a shame that he didn’t take tinsel off, because the tangling was still a fairly regular occurrence.

Just before the school holidays, Toby came home from school, and while everyone was busy in the kitchen, he ran up to his bedroom in tears. George rushed up after him before anyone else noticed. I followed him. As Toby lay on the bed sobbing, George curled up next to him, I started fretting. I knew that I needed to do something and fast. I ran downstairs, mewing at the top of my voice until I got Claire, Summer and Jonathan’s attention. It took a while but finally they stopped what they were doing and looked at me.

‘What is it Alfie?’ Claire asked.

‘YOWL,’ I shouted. I then went back upstairs, with them hot on my paws.

‘Toby, what is it?’ Claire said as she joined him on the bed, scooping the sobbing boy into her arms.

‘Meow.’ George took me to one side to explain. It seemed George wasn’t the only one a little confused by Christmas.

‘Come on Tobe, you can tell us anything,’ Jonathan coaxed.

‘And me too,’ Summer finished as she hugged her brother.

‘I don’t know how to do Christmas,’ he finally said, his words hicuppy.

‘What do you mean, darling?’ Claire asked, stroking his hair.

‘I know,’ Summer cut in. She was quite a madam, but one with a lovely heart and an even cuter smile.

‘Go on then,’ Jonathan grinned.

‘You have to be a good girl, or boy, Toby, and you write to Santa and ask for lots of toys, and you then keep being good, at least until after Christmas.’

‘That makes sense,’ George hissed in my ear. I shook my whiskers, it really didn’t.

‘Well, that’s one way of looking at it,’ Jonathan said, diplomatically. ‘But Toby, you are a good boy, one of the very best, so if Summer’s right then you are doing Christmas very well.’

‘But at school the teacher said that Christmas is about the birth of baby Jesus and he was a gift from God, and that’s why we give gifts to people we love,’ Toby explained. I glanced at George. Maybe I should have left the explanation of Christmas to the humans, I hadn’t quite got a handle on it, it seemed.

‘Well yes,’ Claire said. ‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘I don’t know how to buy gifts,’ Toby said finally. I saw Claire and Jonathan exchange glances.

‘I don’t know either,’ Summer suddenly looked panicked.

‘So, if we have to buy gifts for people we love and we don’t know how to buy gifts then how do you know we love you?’ Toby’s logic was, well, almost logical, I thought.

‘Oh Tobe, buying gifts is only one part of Christmas. But, you can always ask me to take you shopping, or Jonathan.’ They looked at each other again, as if it hadn’t occurred to them that the children would want to buy presents for them. ‘But we don’t need you to buy us gifts, honestly, you two are the only gifts we need.’

‘But I want to. I want to give you a gift because I love you so much. And I’ve got pocket money,’ Toby said.

‘Me too.’ Summer was definitely on this bandwagon.

‘How about we all go shopping this weekend,’ Claire said. Jonathan tried not to looked dismayed. He hated shopping.

‘I need to write a list,’ Toby suddenly dried his tears and jumped up.

‘Me too,’ Summer said.

‘Well you can’t write so maybe we could do it together,’ Toby suggested.

‘Yes!’ Summer beamed.

‘This is my first ever Christmas with a family, so I have to make sure it’s right,’ Toby said, seriously pulling out a pad and pencil.

‘Meow,’ George said, meaning ‘me too.’

‘It will be perfect, Toby because you are with us and we’re a family, a wonderful, perfect family,’ Claire said, teary eyed. ‘Me, Jonathan, you, Summer, Alfie and George, the best family ever.’

I felt myself choking up. Even Jonathan blinked a bit, I could tell he was emotional because he was staring at his socks.

They went in for a hug, all of them, with George right in the middle. I looked on feeling so warm and fuzzy; I was so proud of my family, and so, so lucky to have them all.

Later that evening as George and I went out for our last walk, he was quieter than normal.

‘Are you alight son?’ I asked.

‘I’m more than alright, Dad,’ he replied. ‘I know what Christmas is about now, it’s simply about love and nothing else matters.’ I was so, so proud of my boy. ‘Apart from Pilchards of course,’ he finished.

THE KITTENS FIRST CHRISTMAS

It’s the most wonderful time of year. It’s also the most exhausting. For a cat like me, it’s especially busy. Not only do I have to keep my eye on all my humans – hard work believe me, but I also have an ever-expanding cat family to take care of. My Grand kittens, Santa, Holly, and Tiger are about to turn one on Christmas day. So, not only is it their first Christmas, but it’s also their first birthday. That makes this Christmas even more special for us all.

It has not been an easy year for any of us, of course. I won’t mention the pandemic that has gripped us, after all, you’ve had to live it too, so I know you understand. But apart from that, George took to fatherhood like a cat to pilchards, Hana was the same with motherhood despite the many logistical issues. And if I thought one kitten was hard work, imagine what three was like.

Where Hana lived there was a human kitten; Theo, who was now a toddler, so it was a lot for her humans to suddenly take on three kittens as well. With my guidance, the humans came up with a kitten share idea, where they lived with us half the time, and next door at Hana’s the other half. Of course, that means it’s cat chaos in both houses most of the time. Hana spends time with us and the kittens. George is always over at her house when the kittens are and I am constantly running from house to house to check on them and everyone else. I have a lot of houses, families, and cats to check on. But then I am, at heart, still a doorstep cat after all.

The Christmas trees went up, amidst lots of excitement. It wasn’t Theo’s first Christmas technically, but it was the first when he was toddling about, which meant that the trees were in danger from him, as well as the kittens. Actually, between him and the kittens, the tree at Hana’s house became something of a mess, much to their human’s despair. Theo would try to pull the decorations off, which if he wasn’t being watched meant he was in danger of actually pulling the tree over. We all had to keep a close eye on him. This in turn meant that Santa, Holly, and Tiger weren’t really given many opportunities to do anything to the tree either, much to their disgust. At night, the living room door was firmly shut. I noticed that Santa would look especially longingly at the tree, as he was a climber. Holly would have to resist pawing at the tinsel because she loved anything shiny, and Tiger liked to look at his own reflection in the baubles, which he would then seem to fight – I have no idea where he got his vanity from.

Like human children, I’d come to see that our kittens were very different from each other. Holly was the only female cat and although that didn’t mean anything – we cats are not ones for gender stereotypes – Holly was like her mother, gentle, kind, and calm, or calmer than the boys. She was attracted to pretty things and when she was at our house she loved playing dress-up with Summer and Martha if she was there. She was also very good friends with Pickles the pug, and being kind meant that she gave him the time of day, whereas her brothers, like their father George were prone to tease him. Poor Pickles, although he didn’t seem to realise he was being teased, so he didn’t mind too much.

Santa was a hectic kitten, he would run at one hundred miles an hour, or so it seemed, and then he would curl up and sleep a lot, usually on the most expensive blanket or piece of clothing he could find (ask Jonathan). But he seemed to have his own time clock and he would often wake his brother and sister up when he wanted to play, which would in turn wake George, Hana or myself up. Tiger was a bit like his namesake, my lovely Tiger who I still missed every day, he was fearless, and bossy and clever. He was, kind of, the ring leader of the kittens, although he was the one who would inevitably be too busy having fun to remember to do what he was told.

I loved my grandkittens so much but I also felt for Hana and George. I thought parenting George had been hard enough, but there were three of them. Just trying to keep track of them could be a full-time job. Looking after them made me feel nostalgic for the days when George was a kitten, but only for a little while, then I remembered how I used to worry about him all the time, panic when I didn’t know where he was. I have to admit I did lose him a few times, but that’s a whole other story; or bunch of stories. I still worried about George now, even though he was a grown cat and a father, I don’t think parents ever stop worrying.

The children were very helpful with the kittens and they adored them. George was put out at first, at how he seemed to be usurped in everyone’s attention by the kittens, but I had found this when he was a kitten so was able to explain and also sympathise. I said it was a factor of growing up, adults were just not as adorable as babies, or children. It was the way of the world. Summer, Toby, Henry and Martha, loved playing with the kittens and that was just how it was. George didn’t want to even play such games but he still felt put out, although he soon learnt to hide that. I also think that as Hana’s attention was now more on her babies, he missed that too. George was a little fond of attention I know, so I understood but of course, he now had children. Being a parent is the hardest job in the world. I was now finding out that being a grandparent was a close second.

The kittens were at our house. Snowball had come over to help me look after them so that George and Hana could have ‘date day.’ They probably just wanted to sleep but at least they could spend some time together and have a rest at the same time. And, well, Snowball and I loved spending time with the kittens, it was always fun. Or, perhaps it’s best to say; there was never a dull moment. All the humans were out, so it was just us cats. The first thing Tiger did was try to climb the tree.

‘Santa, get away from the tree,’ I yowled.

‘Why?’ Santa asked, although we had told him why a million times.

‘Because you might get hurt.’ Snowball – who had much more patience than me – explained yet again.

‘But if I try it, then I will see if I might not get hurt,’ he countered.

‘But then, you might get hurt and where will that lead to?’ Tiger said. He was looking at his reflection in a silver bauble. ‘I must say I do look good in this bauble,’ he added. For a minute I was dumbstruck, and then for some reason, Tiger started pawing at the bauble. ‘Are you looking at me?’ he said, talking to himself.

Then I noticed Holly had crawled under the tree and was pawing at some presents.

‘No, Holly.’ I chastised.

‘Why?’

Oh goodness, it was going to be a very, very long day.

‘Holly, those presents are for other people, you’ll get your own presents on Christmas and your birthday.’ I said, keeping my paws crossed that the humans had got them something because as clever as I am, I am still not able to shop.

‘But the bow is so pretty.’ she said, pawing it again, and somehow managing to get her claws stuck. I looked at Snowball who went and helped Holly untangle herself. I smiled. The bow was a little scratched but I used my paw to turn it around so no one would notice. I then realised that, if this wasn’t going to go horribly wrong, I had to take charge. What I needed was a kitten sitting plan. And plans, after all, were my forte. Snowball went to get a drink of water whilst I had some serious thinking to do.

‘Alfie, are you still with us?’ Snowball asked. I realised that I had been thinking so hard I had zoned out.

‘Yes, I have a foolproof plan of keeping those kittens in line for the rest of their time here,’ I replied, feeling very pleased with myself.

‘Well, Alfie that’s great, but you might have to find them first.’ I blinked. The kittens were nowhere to be seen. Oh no, in my thinking I had taken my eyes off them. Which is never a good idea. I checked the tree, but they weren’t there. Thankfully the tree was in one piece and the presents were all there. I think a piece of tinsel might have been missing though…

We ran into the kitchen, even though Snowball had been there already. Although our food bowls were empty the kittens weren’t in there. We didn’t have to worry about them having gotten out as when they were here, Claire had closed the cat flap, which meant we were all housebound. I would normally mind, but not when it came to my grandkittens, although where on earth were they?

Snowball searched downstairs while I went upstairs. I soon found Holly, she was in Summer’s bedroom, trying to get into her old dressing up box. Although Summer now said she was too old for dressing up, she liked dressing the kittens up, so she kept the box. Holly was now trying to prise the lid open but she wasn’t able to.

‘Holly, downstairs now,’ I said.

‘But I want to dress up,’ she objected.

‘You can when Summer’s home, but now we have a very important task to do downstairs. Now my lovely, go to the living room and wait for me there. Oh and don’t do anything to the Christmas presents, or the tinsel,’ I said.

‘OK GrandCat Alfie,’ she replied sweetly, looking at me with her big eyes. I melted. One look and I would do anything for her, I almost tried to open the dressing up box myself. I managed to collect myself as Holly trotted off downstairs and I went to find her brothers.

I made my way to Claire and Jonathan’s room which should have been off-limits but Claire had forgotten to shut the door. Which was a mistake, as I found Santa lying on Jonathan’s cashmere jumper, leaving hair which would definitely be noticed. No doubt I would get the blame for that.

‘Santa, please get off that jumper.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s Jonathan’s and he’ll probably blame me and I’ll get a lecture about how precious and expensive cashmere is and then I’ll be miserable for a while.’

‘I didn’t understand half of that,’ Santa yawned.

‘Right well downstairs, I have an important thing going on in the living room, and Holly’s already there.’

‘Will it be fun?’ Santa asked.

‘Of course, it will be,’ I replied. ‘I always know how to have fun. Right, do you know where your brother is?’

‘Nah,’ Santa yawned again but he did at least get off the jumper and make his way downstairs.

So, having checked the bathroom I pushed the door to Toby’s room, and after searching under the bed, I heard Tiger. He was on top of Toby’s wardrobe. I blinked, here we go again I thought, I was scared of heights, which I know might not be normal for a cat but I discovered it when I was quite young and trying to woo Snowball, I climbed a tree and panicked. It wasn’t my finest hour, I had to get rescued by a fireman and I still haven’t lived it down. Snowball brings it up at least once a month in fact.

‘Oh Tiger,’ I said, ‘please come down.’

‘But GrandCat Alfie, it’s so much fun up here,’ he replied.

‘We have very important business downstairs, please.’ I crossed my paws that he could get down. I was constantly surprised by my kittens but as Tiger easily came down from the wardrobe I breathed a sigh of relief. Otherwise, I would have had to send Snowball up there to get him…

They all sat on the sofa, in a line, as if pilchards wouldn’t melt in their mouths. Snowball had taken the armchair and I was on the ground trying to exert some kind of authority.

‘This is a game, it’s a quiz on being a cat. I ask you a question and then you have to run up and down the room, come back and give me the answer.’

‘That’s a game?’ Santa asked.

‘Do we win a prize?’ Holly asked.

‘Honestly, anything’s better than having to listen to GrandCat Alfie’s “when I was a young Cat… stories”.’

‘Oy,’ I said, affronted. My stories were incredibly entertaining if I did say so myself. I also tried to ignore the fact that Snowball was laughing.

‘The prize is some ribbon,’ Snowball said, diffusing the situation. She had found some that Claire had left on the kitchen table. It wasn’t around a present, so as far as I was concerned, it was fair game. Holly’s eyes lit up.

‘We are playing whether you like it or not,’ I said, trying to sound authoritative. After all, I was in charge. Wasn’t I?

It turned out to be one of my better ideas. The running wore the kittens out a bit, the questions tested their brainpower and helped to educate them; although when I asked about the main job of a cat and Santa answered ‘causing trouble’, I had to stop and give a slight lecture. The good news was that they all played well, enjoyed sharing the ribbon, and finally, they curled up and fell asleep, albeit on Claire’s favourite blanket that Santa had dragged from upstairs. On the whole, I was a brilliant kitten sitter, if I did say so myself.

’Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, nothing was stirring, not even a mouse. Actually, only some of that was true. It was early evening, and it was Christmas Eve, true. There were no mice to be seen – true – but only because we were a house full of cats. We were at Hana’s house, under strict instructions to stay there and keep out of trouble, while the adults did the last minute wrapping up and the children ran riot with the kittens before they went off to a carol service, which us cats weren’t invited to. If I heard it once I heard a million times; that I was in charge, and responsible for making sure that all of the cats and kittens stayed in the house until the adults got back. Of course, as the oldest, I was always in charge, but I also passed on some of the responsibility to Snowball who pointed out that she and Hana were far better at keeping an eye on the kittens than George and myself were. She kept reminding me of the last time I looked after them and temporarily lost them when her back was turned, but I didn’t lose them. I just misplaced them for a bit. It’s certainly not the same.

Anyway, we were all at Hana’s house, and while the humans were there, it was difficult to keep track of them all so I was actually glad when they left the house, and it was just us cats. Everyone was excited, as was usual on Christmas Eve. The children were beside themselves, knowing that Santa was visiting that night, the adults were excited because the children were and the kittens were excited because not only was it their first Christmas but also their first birthday – which meant that George and Hana were excited because it was their babies birthday and their first year as parents. And I was excited for everyone because that’s the kind of cat I am. But there was so much to celebrate, and we all felt it in our hearts.

When the front door closed and all our humans had gone, I breathed a sigh of relief. I never thought I would say; that being left with the kittens was going to be more peaceful but after all the singing, shouting, cheers and running around, it really was calmer with just us cats. But then we all know what hard work humans can be, right?

‘Um Dad,’ George said as he joined me.

‘Yes, son.’

‘Can we sneak out for a minute to remember Tiger Mum?’ It was our Christmas eve tradition. We both missed Tiger’s namesake, Tiger who was my girlfriend, and George’s mum until she passed away. We both loved her very much, still do. What I have learnt in my life is that grief is one of the worst things that can happen to us, if not the worst, but you find a way to carry on. Love never dies, that is another lesson I have learnt. I can love Snowball but that doesn’t diminish how much love I have for Tiger. Life is complex and the rules aren’t always so easy to follow; if there even are any. But love is our greatest gift and if we have lost someone we love, at least we will always have that love, even if we don’t always have them.

George and I stood outside and looked up at the darkening sky. There was one star already and we both spoke to it as if Tiger was sitting on it, which wouldn’t surprise me because she was such a star. George told her all about the kittens and Hana and how having her as his Tiger Mum had helped him so much with the kittens. He said he hoped she looked down on them and how much he wished she could have met them. We snuggled up together as we remembered how much we love her – it was so sad, I felt it in my bones, but it was also happy because we had so much to be grateful for.

‘We better go in, lad,’ I said, although my voice broke.

‘OK, Dad, let’s go and see what my kittens are up to.’ We nuzzled again before we headed back inside. I was looking forward to a nice peaceful family time.

Hana was running round in circles, Snowball was trying to call order. Holly was sitting still, her eyes wide and Tiger was jumping around. The scene was anything but peaceful.

‘What’s going on?’ George asked.

‘We can’t find Santa,’ Snowball said, as Hana fretted.

‘OK, well when did we last see him?’ I asked, trying to calm everyone down. I couldn’t remember but then it had been so hectic earlier and I just couldn’t think.

‘No one can say for sure,’ Hana said sounding frantic, ‘we thought he might have gone out with you but I had a quick look and he doesn’t seem to be out there.’

‘Also, Santa doesn’t like going out on his own in the dark, which is weird seeing as he’s named after Santa,’ Holly pointed out. I confirmed he hadn’t come outside with us, and Holly was right, he didn’t like going out at night unless he had someone with him.

‘Right, search party time,’ I commanded, taking charge. He had to be somewhere in the house, I just knew it. I sent George and Hana upstairs, and Snowball to the kitchen. I was going to search the dining room and hallway. I told Tiger and Holly to stay put in the living room and although we knew that he wasn’t there I told them to look again, just in case.

I checked the dining room, under things, over things, behind things, but there was no sign. I then tried to prise open the cupboard under the stairs, it wasn’t easy but I just managed to hook my paw into the small gap and pull. Having checked it out – and boy was it messy and dusty – there was no sign of him there either.

We all met back in the living room. Panic was growing, it was as if he’d disappeared.

‘Maybe he snuck out with the humans?’ Tiger suggested. He had talked about doing it, but although George and I had done our fair share of sneaking out with humans in our time, that didn’t mean we condoned it for our kittens – we told them to do as we told them, not as we had done. That’s all part and parcel of parenting.

We all lapsed into silence as we thought that perhaps Santa had gone with one of the children – my money was on Toby or Henry who both had a mischievous side to them. I remembered when Tommy, who is one of our older children now, took George to Church with him under his coat, these things do happen.

‘Hey, Dad, mum, GrandCat Alfie, Snowball, can you hear that?’ Holly said. She was wearing silver tinsel.

‘Shush Holly we’re trying to think,’ George said.

‘Oh no, Santa can not go missing on Christmas Eve,’ Hana panicked again, we were all so worried we didn’t even realise the irony of her words.

‘No, listen,’ Holly said, stamping her paw, and we all lapsed into silence. There was a faint sound of rustling, along with a muffled mew coming from somewhere.

‘Oh no, it’s coming from under the tree,’ Tiger said and he and Holly started trying to clear a path by moving presents.

‘Be careful,’ I hissed. I knew how much humans could get upset if anyone messed with their presents. I’d managed to open one or two when I was young and trust me, that did not go down well. Holly and Tiger worked well together and they managed to find a wrapped box, that seemed to be moving slightly.

‘Santa, are you in there?’ Hana asked.

‘Mew,’ he replied. I looked at Snowball, horrified. We had found the kitten.

Only he was gift wrapped in a box. And, there was no clear way to get the present unwrapped. We all looked at our paws, not as useful as hands in this instant. Holly tried to get the bow off, but she just managed to shred it a bit. We all had a go at trying to open the paper but we couldn’t do it.

‘Mumppph,’ Santa’s voice came from inside the box, and although we tried to be gentle we did manage to bash the box around a bit. I crossed my paws that he’d be OK.

‘Yowl,’ I heard faintly, over and over again. Oh, how I hoped we hadn’t hurt him too much.

After what felt like ages, we all sat and surveyed the box. The wrapping was looking messy, the bow was half untied and a bit shredded but we were still unable to get into the parcel. It had tape everywhere and trust me when I tell you us cats can’t get the tape off the gifts. That’s why cats don’t ever get to unwrap their own presents.

But that didn’t help, because our kitten was in there. What if there was no air? I glanced at Snowball who was obviously thinking the same as me, there was pure fear in her eyes and I could feel the same in mine. George was still trying to get into the box, he was even using his teeth but I knew it was pointless. Tiger and Holly were frozen for a minute and Hana was wailing. I needed a plan but I knew that; that plan needed a human and that was, for once, something I didn’t have. I couldn’t even send anyone off to find one because the carol concert was not even on the same street. I just had to hope and pray they would be home soon.

As everyone grew more panicked and the box was moving around, I knew I had to do something until the humans returned.

‘Santa,’ I said in my soothing voice. ‘Please, try to keep still, we’ll get you out but the more you struggle or get distressed the worse it’ll be. And that goes for everyone. We all need to help Santa by remaining calm and keeping our cool,’ I instructed. There was something I could do after all.

‘I know why don’t you tell us one of your stories,’ Tiger asked, in a quieter than normal voice. The others looked at me hopefully. Ha, you see, I knew they liked my stories really.

‘When I was a young cat,’ I began.

We were exhausted, worried, sad and full of fear by the time the door opened and I was also hoarse from telling so many stories. I immediately knew I had to get someone to open that present, so I ran out to greet the humans. They tried to brush me off as they took their coats off and got Theo out of his pushchair but I persisted. I did everything I could, I yowled, I stood on feet, I scratched at them, but to no avail. They carried on ignoring me.

Thankfully Theo ran into the living room. He wouldn’t have been my first choice or my last actually, but then no one else seemed to be paying me any attention. I swished my tail, it seemed the youngest member of the family was our only hope. Theo loved the kittens and he stopped where they sat. I pushed the present toward him.

‘pwesent,’ he babbled and looked at it.

‘Meow,’ I said, open it. Holly pushed it toward him, and Tiger tried to help. Although Theo had chubby fingers, he really liked presents and had learnt to open them at his first Birthday party which was a few months ago, which was lucky for us. Thankfully after a few seconds of doubt, he set about pulling the paper off the box like a seasoned professional. It took him a while and he made quite a mess, as Holly helped him and Tiger encouraged him. George was rigid along with Hana.

Finally, the rest of the humans all came into the room, to see Theo about to finish unwrapping the gift.

‘Theo, no, naughty,’ his mum, Sylvie, said rushing over.

‘What a mess,’ Marcus, his dad added.

‘At least it’s not one of our children for once,’ Jonathan added. As everyone crowded into the living room and Sylvie frantically tried to stop Theo, Connie sat down next to him.

‘Meow,’ Theo said and pointed to the box.

‘Meow’ the box said loudly. The room fell quiet.

‘Oh mum, I think he’s trying to tell us something,’ she said, opening the box. Santa practically leapt out and into Connie’s arms.

‘Oh God, mum you wrapped Santa up,’ Connie said. Theo laughed as did the rest of the kids.

‘No,’ Sylvie said. She looked in the box where Santa had curled up on top of a scarf.

‘That was your Christmas present, Marcus,’ Sylvie said, laughing. ‘It was an expensive, pure wool scarf,’ she added.

‘Best Christmas present ever,’ Summer said.

‘What a scarf?’ Claire asked.

‘No, mummy, Santa,’ Summer said, and everyone laughed.

We all recovered, even Santa, who had been scared, but he had learnt a valuable lesson, I hoped. Do not sleep anywhere you fancy, even if the scarf was expensive. The adults could not believe that he’d fallen asleep on the scarf and how Sylvie had wrapped it without noticing. But as we retired that Christmas eve, all was well again and everyone was excited for the following day. If not all a little tired and stressed from all the trauma. But then, we should have been used to it by now.

My family grew all the time, both human and cat. We were the lucky ones, we had each other, which was a lot. But this year, as we waited for Christmas to arrive, I felt extra lucky. And so, dear readers of this story, from my heart to yours, I wish you a wonderful Christmas and a prosperous New Year. With love, from me; Alfie, my humans, my cat friends, Snowball, George and Hana, and of course my grandkittens, Holly, Santa and Tiger. And I look forward to seeing you all on the page next year.

AIFIE’S SPRING BREAK

As always the journey to Seabreeze Cottage was arduous. Not only was it a long drive but, as usual, made worse by Jonathan huffing and puffing – to put it politely – at other drivers who, apparently, couldn’t drive as well as him. He seemed to have a real thing against caravans as well. Also, the kids, Summer and Toby were in the back chanting; ‘are we nearly there,’ every few minutes, which even Claire couldn’t put a stop to. But the worse thing was that George and I were in our cat carrier, a tight space for the two of us, and he was in a terrible mood. I had barely heard a sound out of him on the journey. He lay down sulking and no amount of effort on my part could cheer him up. So, of course I was exhausted.

Seabreeze cottage was our holiday home in Devon. We owned it with two of our other families but because of the pandemic and the rule of six – which us cats were exempt from – we had to take turns to use the cottage and this was our turn. It meant we were sad to leave friends behind, both human and animal. I was parted from my lady-friend, Snowball, but I was a grown up so I could cope. I would miss her but it was only a week. George however, was devastated about being parted from Hana and his kittens. The three kittens were still young and Claire said it would be too dangerous to have them by the sea. I agreed with her. Not only could those kittens get up to mischief anywhere but when I first came to Seabreeze with George, we suffered a near drowning, a close call being trampled by a herd of sheep and almost being set on fire.

However, he felt guilty about leaving the parenting duties to Hana. He even tried to hide to avoid coming here but Toby found him because he hid under his bed, which was a pretty obvious place. Hana assured him she would be fine with the kittens for a week, and Snowball was going to help, but still… young love. I understood, I had barely been parted from George since he came to live with me. But there was only one George, three kittens were certainly a paw full.

‘It’s only a week, George,’ I said. I was nothing if not a persistent cat.

‘Yowl,’ he replied, and put his head in his paws.

‘Pickles will miss us,’ I added, thinking out loud of back home. Poor Pickles would have loved the seaside but he was staying with his main family and would get to visit with them at some point.

‘One good thing is if that dog came, we wouldn’t be able to go anywhere,’ he huffed.

‘Or the kittens. And when you go home you can spend all the time in the world with them. I will as well.’ I had to admit I would also miss my grandkittens, they were hard work, but I loved them so much. George possibly agreed with me, but he was a sulker so we spent the rest of the journey in silence.

I was so relieved to get out of the car, although we were still in the carrier until Jonathan remembered to let us out. As the sweet smell of the sea air hit me, I felt happiness wrap itself around me. I loved feeling the wind in my whiskers. George softened too. This place had that affect on all of us. When Gilbert, the cat who lived at Seabreeze cottage even before we owned it, appeared we greeted him warmly, we were all happy to be here.

‘I feel guilty, that’s why I’ve been a bit miserable,’ George said finally. ‘Guilty that I’m here and my kittens are at home. Guilty that Hana has to do all the work for a week.’

‘Well son, that’s parenthood for you; you feel guilty all the time. Besides, Hana might have a holiday at some point and then you’ll have to look after them,’ I pointed out. I shuddered at the thought; I would have to too. Let’s just hope a holiday wasn’t too imminent for Hana in that case.

Gilbert was pleased to see us and it was good to see him, it had been a long time since we were last here.

‘How’s this lockdown business been for you?’ he asked.

‘Well, we had freedom but our humans didn’t, which was weird,’ I replied. ‘Having them home all the time could be annoying.’

‘I was lucky, it wasn’t much different for me. I had the cat flap and of course I got fed every day.’ Gilbert was a funny cat, he was feral when we first met him, camping out in Seabreeze Cottage, and fending for himself when it came to food, but by the time we left, Claire had organised for a local lady to pop round and feed him every day. So now he was pampered. A bit like us.

‘We’ve missed you,’ George said. ‘And I’ve become a dad, I have three kittens. Hard work, but of course I’m so grown up and very good at it. I have to admit that, although I didn’t want to come away, it’s great to see you and actually quite nice to have a change of scene,’ he said, raising his whiskers as if he just realised.

‘Well now, Mr grown up George, we will have to make the most of this break then and make sure we have some adventures so you can go home and tell your kittens all about it.’

‘Just not anything dangerous,’ I said. They both looked at me and laughed.

We settled in quickly, so that we could go out and explore. It was almost dark by the time we did. We were all desperate to go to the beach and feel that sea breeze in our fur, and the sand under paws. When we first encountered sand we weren’t keen, it tends to stick and get everywhere, but now I was quite fond of it despite that. We only went to the beach at night because otherwise we would encounter a number of over enthusiastic dogs who were generally not on their leads and they would try to chase us. We had learnt that the hard way. In the evening though, the beach was pretty deserted and safe.

‘Last one down the sand dunes loses,’ George said. He became childlike when we visited Seabreeze and it made me feel nostalgic for my kitten. Of course I loved him more than ever and was very proud of the amazing tom he had grown into, but seeing him now made me think of how much time had passed. By letting my thoughts of the past take over, Gilbert had already started down, George tried to catch him up but he slipped and fell.

‘Yowl!’ he screamed as he slid down the sand dune on his bottom. On the upside, he won.

The holiday was the tonic we all needed; we began to relax and unwind. George was no longer fretting too much about his kittens and was enjoying the time we spent exploring with Gilbert; sunbathing in the font garden and watching the world go by. He was also relieved, because the old next door neighbours, which included a cat called Chanel, who was his first crush, had moved. It was a very humiliating time for him and although we became civil with Chanel over the years, George now he was a father, felt a little awkward. Now a new family had moved in; Claire and Jonathan met them, they had two older children and a puppy. George and I decided to give them a wide berth.

Mornings at Seabreeze cottage were a little more calm than at home, mainly because Jonathan didn’t have to get to work – and didn’t keep complaining about lost socks and things – and the children didn’t have to go to school, so didn’t rush to get dressed. We all enjoyed a leisurely breakfast as they planned the day’s activities.

We had a few human friends down here now but because of the Covid and the rules, it was decided they could meet at the beach but only with social distancing. The children could play with their friends but only if they stood apart. Jonathan devised a sort of catching game which meant they could all do this safely. We cats were allowed to stand near anyone we wanted, so we didn’t worry about that.

We were lucky with the weather so far, and after almost a year of being cooped up inside, the whole family were making the most of being outside. Long walks, ball games, splashing in the sea – the children not us cats, I can’t stand water – you name it, we were all enjoying the feeling of being away. We all felt very lucky in fact.

Gilbert took us on walks through the safer fields; no charging sheep, unsteady cows or hungry pigs thank goodness. It was actually becoming the perfect holiday. We had fish and chip takeaways and George, Gilbert and I enjoyed a feast of fish. Also, the children managed to get ice creams from the famous ice cream van which was actually on the beach – Hocking’s it was called and it was very creamy. Jonathan would sneak us cats some for a treat. George declared it his favourite food ever, but I found it a bit cold on my tongue.

We were sunbathing in the front garden when there was a rustling in the hedge that divided our house from next door. I ignored it, thinking it was perhaps a butterfly or a bird even, I was too relaxed to chase it. A dark shadow loomed over me and I looked up to see this fluffy puppy, twice the size of Pickles standing over me.

‘Yelp,’ I screamed. Was it going to try to eat me?

‘Hiss,’ George said coming near me to protect me. Gilbert joined us. The three of us stood, facing the dog and ready for battle, although I secretly hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

‘Why are you here?’ the dog asked. It didn’t sound hostile.

‘We’re on holiday and this is our holiday home,’ I said.

‘I live here,’ Gilbert added.

‘But I haven’t met you?’ the dog said.

‘I like to keep myself to myself,’ Gilbert replied licking his paw. It was true he did when we weren’t here. It took us a while to make him sociable even with us.

‘Can I play with you?’ he asked. We relaxed, this wasn’t a danger kind of thing.

‘You can’t. You see unfortunately we are cats and you are a dog,’ George said. He tolerated Pickles but my boy wasn’t the biggest fan of dogs, and I couldn’t change his mind even though I used to agree with him.

‘But why?’

‘Why what?’ I asked.

‘Why can’t cats and dogs play together?’

‘You see,’ George said, shooting me a warning look. I raised my whiskers. I couldn’t help it if I was nice to everyone. ‘Cat’s don’t play. We only do very serious things. And anyway, dogs are not meant to be out on their own.’

‘We’re not?’ the dog looked concerned.

‘No, so you better go back home before anyone notices you’re missing,’ George said.

‘George,’ I chastised but he flicked his tail at me.

‘But they’ve gone out and I’m all on my own and I don’t have anything to do,’ he said dejectedly. I felt bad for him.

‘Well-‘ I started.

‘No, you must go home, otherwise you might get in trouble,’ George insisted, almost herding him back toward the gap in the bush, despite the dog being twice as big as him. The dog, who didn’t even get a chance to tell us his name, slunk dejectedly back, squeezing himself through the hole.

‘George that wasn’t kind,’ I said.

‘But he was right, he shouldn’t be here,’ Gilbert said. ‘His owners would be really worried if they came home and he was missing.’

‘And by the way, we should find a way to tell the humans to block up that gap,’ George added. He wouldn’t have said that when he was in love with Chanel would he?

‘I know, you’re right but we should have been kinder. He’s all alone.’ I was definitely getting softer the older I got. I think the effect of having grand kittens. ‘I mean, George, have I taught you nothing-‘ I was about to carry on with my lecture but George interrupted me.

‘Dad, I heard Jonathan said he was getting pilchards from the local fish shop,’ George said, knowing full well how much I loved pilchards. Dog forgotten, I ran to the kitchen to await my favourite food.

Although we missed our other families, and of course Snowball and my grand kittens, we were having a nice break. In fact I couldn’t remember when we had had a more relaxing time. I thought as I lay in the sight of the sun, feeling it warm up my fur very nicely. Just as I was about to close my eyes for a quick cat nap, there was a loud commotion coming from next door. I leapt up and ran to see what was going on. George joined me. Gilbert was in the house. We went to the gap where the dog had got in the other day and had a look. The humans from next door were running around like headless chickens – not that I had seen a headless chicken by the way, but Claire often said it when Jonathan was looking for his car keys.

‘Bailey,’ here doggy, they were calling over and over again. There was a level of hysteria in their voices. I looked at George.

‘Do you think it’s the dog we saw the other day?’ I asked. ‘You know the one you were so mean to?’

George looked contrite. ‘Shall we check round the house in case he came in here again?’ he suggested.

‘Good idea, son.’ I softened. We both ran through the open front door where Claire was sweeping the floor – trying to get rid of the never ending supply of sand the kids and we brought in.

‘What are you doing?’ she said, nearly tripping over us and her broom.

‘Meow,’ I shouted and then she heard the voices from outside. When she went out to see what was going on, George went to look for the dog and I followed Claire. I liked to be in the know after all.

‘Is everything OK?’ she shouted through the hedge when she reached the gap.

‘Oh, we’ve lost our puppy Bailey, he got out. Do you think he’s in your house?’

‘Oh no. Please, come over and we’ll look.’

A woman ran round to the front of our house in record time. Her face was red and her voice breathless.

‘I told my husband and kids to keep looking there, but if you don’t mind…’

‘Course not. I haven’t seen him but he might have got through the gap.’

‘Meow,’ he did, I said. But the woman didn’t seem to notice me as she started calling for Bailey again and running round our garden. I raised my whiskers, Claire raised her eyebrows.

‘Come inside, he might have snuck in,’ she offered. The woman stopped running around and followed Claire.

‘He’s only a puppy and hasn’t been with us for long, we adopted him, oh I’d never forgive myself if anything happened.’

‘I’m sure he’s fine. How long have you lived next door?’

‘A few months now. We moved in the midst of the pandemic which was tricky but we’d already arranged it, so anyway, BAILEY,’ she shouted at the top of her lungs. It made me jump.

I went to find George, who was with Gilbert.

‘No sign?’ I asked.

‘No.’

‘And I was by the back door so I’d know if he came through the house,’ Gilbert said.

‘Everyone is going crazy,’ I explained. ‘Bailey is fairly new to them, he was adopted. I hope you don’t feel too bad about not playing with him,’ I couldn’t help but add.

‘Dad, he went missing today, not when he came over to us, so don’t try to pin this on me,’ George retorted.

‘Right you two, instead of arguing how about we try to find the dog?’ Gilbert suggested. It was exactly what I was going to say actually as I swished my tail.

Jonathan came home with the kids and Claire dragged him next door, with Helen – Bailey’s owner – to see if they could help. From what we discovered, they were all going to scour the village and Claire was going to stay at their house in case Bailey came back. As they all headed off in different directions, it seemed to me that none of the humans had a clue how to organise a search. Luckily, I was an expert having searched for a fair few cats and children in my time.

Some of the searchers headed to the beach, which I thought was the logical choice but we couldn’t go because there were lots of dogs there. We hunted around the house and the garden, checking any hiding places there might be; under bushes, or perhaps he had found his way into a shed or outbuilding but no, there was no sign of him. By the time we returned to the front of the house everyone from next door were even more upset and Claire was going to knock on all the neighbours doors. Jonathan was charged with looking after the children and feeding them. They perked up at hearing this, because he was going to order them pizza. He offered to get some for the neighbours but they said they were too overwrought to eat. I felt very downcast. I didn’t like to think of Bailey lost and alone and I also didn’t like people being upset. Not at all.

It was starting to get dark, but there was still no sign of Bailey. The neighbours had all looked, in fact most of the village had been searching but there was no dog.

‘He can’t have disappeared,’ I said, scratching my head with my paw.

‘What if he went swimming and ended up in the other place,’ George suggested.

‘Can dogs swim?’ I asked.

‘Who knows?’ Gilbert said, ‘but I think they like water more than us cats, because we often see them running into the sea.’

That gave me an idea.

‘Remember when you were chasing Chanel and she tried to hide from you?’

‘Why are you bringing that up now?’

‘Oh I get you, Alfie,’ Gilbert grinned.

‘Again, why now?’ George stamped his paw.

‘Because she hid in a boat and the tide came in, what if Bailey has hidden in a boat?’

‘But the tide is out now and surely he’d have heard one of the adults calling for him, they were pretty loud,’ Gilbert pointed out,

‘Can’t hurt to look,’ I said, feeling excited now.

We bounded to the beach, which was dog free now thankfully. We started checking the boats, carefully trying to avoid the water. Just as we were running out of boats and patience, there was a family standing by a boat with a small cabin. They were peering inside.

‘’Where did he come frome?’ a woman said.

‘No idea, but someone’ll be worried,’ a man replied, and we then saw he reached in, and stood back up with Bailey in his arms.

‘’That’s him, we have to tell them that we know him,’ I said, excited that the dog was safe.

‘But, how?’ Gilbert asked.

‘Leave that to us,’ I said and George and I went over to them and starting meowing at the top of our voices. Gilbert looked uncertain but he joined in. Bailey barked, thankfully showing he recognised us. He wriggled in the man’s arm and tried to get to us.

We carried on mewing, running in circles and scratching at them, trying to convey to the couple to follow us. We yowled, ran around them, leapt up, and just as it was getting very tiresome, the man spoke.

‘Do you think the cats know where the dog lives?’ he asked.

‘I’ve never seen cats on the beach before,’ the lady added.

‘MEOW!’ I shouted, really, was that relevant now?

‘Do you know these cats?’ the man asked Bailey which was far more ridiculous than asking us, but thankfully Bailey barked again which they took to mean yes.

Finally they seemed to get it, which was a relief because I had sand in places where it really didn’t belong. Gilbert, George and I led the way and the couple with Bailey followed us. We took them to Bailey’s house, where we all stood on the doorstep together.

Helen opened the door, and burst into tears.

‘You’d think she’d be pleased,’ George hissed.

‘They’re tears of joy,’ I hissed back.

‘Oh goodness you found him. Where was he?’ Helen asked taking Bailey out of the man’s arms. He wagged his tail like crazy and licked her face. I couldn’t help but feel very pleased with myself.

‘He was asleep in our small boat cabin, lying underneath a blanket so we almost didn’t see him,’ the woman explained. ‘We found him when we went to clean up before a trip we’re taking tomorrow. All curled up he was. We had no idea who he was but then these cats appeared.’

They all stared at us and Helen noticed us for the first time.

‘Cats? They’re from next door, holiday cottage,’ Miranda said, her brows creased.

‘Well they were on the beach which is unusual and then they made an almighty racket before leading us here,’ the man said, scratching his head. You would think they had never encountered cats that saved the day before, the way they were acting.

‘I think we could go now,’ Gilbert said. He didn’t like too much attention. We started to make our way back to our house, Helen shouting thanks after us, inviting the boat couple inside for a drink and saying she had to let everyone know at the same time.

‘If we’d stayed we might have got a reward,’ George said, although he followed us all the same.

‘When Claire and Jonathan hear they’ll reward us I expect,’ I replied. Paws crossed.

Shorty after arriving home, the story of how Bailey was returned home was spread. A few friends arrived for drinks in our garden, all socially distanced of course, and they all talked about how it was thanks to us the puppy was safe. So George, Gilbert and I got our reward. Fish for our main course, and for pudding a lovely bit of Hocking’s ice cream. The couple next door brought Bailey over and thanked us again, although they brought flowers and wine which wasn’t much use to us cats, but Claire liked it. As the sky got even darker, the children sleepy and the adults more lively – which was the wine I think – we three cats thanked the stars for what had been an eventful but fulfilling day. In fact it was the perfect end to the perfect holiday.

ALFIE THE LOCKDOWN CAT

We suddenly find ourselves in very strange times. There is a virus sweeping the world, which is bad, and people are getting very sick. Everyone is scared, and the situation is not like anything I have ever experienced before; it’s incredibly sad. In order to protect ourselves we are being told to stay home – or our humans are anyway. We’re unsure as to how far this staying home business applies to cats. The debate in our house went something like this:

‘I heard a Belgian cat got Covid-19,’ Claire said.

‘I’ve researched it, love. The general thinking is that there is no evidence that cats or dogs can be infected,’ Jonathan replied.

‘Should we keep Alfie and George in, just in case?’

‘Meow.’ No way. I flicked my tail in horror. This lockdown is bad enough – having the humans home so much isn’t easy, let me tell you. It would be devastating if our freedom was curtailed too. By we I mean myself, Alfie and my kitten, George (he’s not much of a kitten anymore but you get the idea).

‘I’ve asked the vet and she said that, unless the household have the virus, it’s fine for cats to carry on as normal,’ Jonathan finished.

Phew. Because although this is anything but normal, it seems to be our new normal for now.

***

Jonathan is having to work from home, which has made him grumpy because he says he can barely concentrate with the noise levels in the house. School is closed so Summer and Toby are home all the time, and, although Summer is pretty happy because she was never a huge fan of lessons, Toby misses it terribly – he’s always loved going to school. Claire doesn’t have a job as such, but she looks after us: the children, cats, Jonathan and the house, and she’s suddenly having to take on the role of homeschool teacher as well as her usual cooking, cleaning, shopping and keeping-everyone-happy role. She’s being run ragged! It’s a lot of work normally, but now she’s even busier. She says she has a new respect for school teachers, because it seems to her to be the hardest job in the world.

George and I are’nt used to having the family home so much. At first, I thought it would be lovely but, honestly, the novelty has worn off pretty quickly. Jonathan was right, it is a very noisy house.

And if that’s not chaotic enough already, Pickles the pug is staying with us, because his owners, our very good friends, have had to self-isolate for two weeks because someone coughed or something like that. So, we get Pickles on account of him needing walking and lots of attention. It means that while some people are apparently moaning about being bored, us cats are busier than ever trying to keep our humans and Pickles in check. Like Claire, we’re exhausted by it all, but of course trying at the same time to make the best of things.

An area in the living room hasd been set up as the ‘school’ and the children are sat at the table, with their workbooks.

‘Mum, Summer keeps talking and I’m trying to do maths,’ Toby complained.

‘Maths is boring,’ Summer replied.

‘Guys, stop arguing, you have to get your work done. Is it too early for wine?’

‘Meow.’ It was too early; it’s only eleven in the morning. Even during lockdown that was definitely too early to drink.

‘How do your teachers cope?’ Claire was baffled.

‘Well, Summer is always in trouble for talking in class,’ Toby pointed out.

‘I’m not even in your class,’ Summer retorted.

‘I hear it from others in school, actually.’ They started squabbling again. George jumps on Toby’s lap and tried to nuzzle him. I know exactly what he’s doing, trying to diffuse the situation. Claire throws him a grateful look.

‘Not now, George I am trying to work!’ Toby gently puts George back on the floor. ‘My maths is very important if I’m going to be an astronaut.’ George raised his whiskers. I raised mine back; there was just no pleasing people sometimes.

‘I have to have a conference call with an important client,’ Jonathan’s voice boomed from upstairs where he had turned the spare room into his office. ‘So, can you all be quiet?’

I very much doubt we can.

***

‘I’m bored,’ Pickles says, as we’re banished from school room. He got into trouble because Summer tried to encourage him to eat her workbook – and he was actually going to, until Claire intervened. Now, he was snuffling around the kitchen, looking for food. George and I had learnt quickly not to leave any of ours laying around. Dog food, human food, cat food, paper – none of it was safe from Pickles the pug.

‘I know,’ George says, examining his paw. ‘Why don’t we go and see what Jonathan is doing?’

‘No!’ I reply, as firmly as I can, but George and Pickles ignore me and take off upstairs. I’m father to George and sort of an Uncle to Pickles; as the grown up, they pay absolutely no attention to me, and I have no choice but to follow them. Damage limitation is my goal, but I’m not full of confidence, if I’m honest.

In the office, Jonathan is sat at the desk talking to a computer. Pickles has already bounded in, but George hangs back with me by the door.

‘Ah! Ow!’ Jonathan exclaims.

‘What was that?’ the computer – a man’s voice – seemed to reply.

‘Sorry, nothing. As I was saying, with market volatility, there’s… ah, ah!’ Jonathan’s face turns red as Pickles does his best to climb up his leg. ‘I mean, my projections are quite clear, in the spreadsheet…’ Jonathan looked down and with one hand tried to gently push Pickles away.

‘Jonathan? Are you alright, you’ve gone a funny colour,’ the computer asks.

‘No, it’s fine. Fine,’ he squeaks.

‘Oh Dad, I’d better go and show Pickles how it’s done,’ George says, raising his whiskers.

‘No, George,’ I hiss to his departing tail.

I can’t watch, but I also can’t look away. George runs up to Jonathan and leaps onto his lap.

‘Ahh,’ Jonathan said in surprise. The chair wobbled and then rights itself. Jonathan’s face gets redder.

‘Is that a cat?’ the computer voice asked.

‘Meow!’ George says, proudly.

‘Woof, woof woof,’ Pickles says, trying to climb his leg again.

‘And a dog?’

Jonathan sighs and scoops Pickles up from the floor.

‘Yup, this is George.’ George holds up a paw. ‘And this is Pickles.’ Pickles licks the screen. Watching from the doorway, I can’t help it. I know Jonathan will be angry and we might be banned from this room for the rest of lockdown, but I want in on the action. I suffer terribly from what the teenagers called FOMO – fear of missing out. I jump up onto the desk.

‘Yowl!’ I say, introducing myself. On the screen is a man, staring at us all with a confused look on his face. He looks a bit older than Jonathan, with grey hair and a slight beard, but he grins and hopefully that means he’s nice…

‘Wow, and this is?’ the man asks.

‘Alfie, my first cat,’ Jonathan mumbles.

‘Didn’t have you down as a pet guy,’ the man says, with a laugh.

‘Oh boy. My professional reputation gone in one fell swoop,’ Jonathan retorts, still a little flushed.

Thankfully the man laughs.

‘Cute pets,’ he replies. ‘But maybe we can get back to the figures?’

‘Of course, sorry, just give me a second.’ With Pickles in one hand, andGeorge in the other, Jonathan stands up and heads for the door. ‘You too Alfie,’ he adds, sternly. I follow, with my tail between my legs, and he shuts us all out. ‘I’ll deal with you later,’ he whispers, and I know that we’re in for a good telling off.

***

We find Claire in the kitchen making lists. She seems to have given up with homeschooling as Summer is now watching a film and Toby’s playing with Lego.

‘Hi guys,’ she calls as we walk in. Thankfully she doesn’t yet know we’re all in trouble. One of the many things I love about Claire is that she always talks to us as if we’re humans, which means we generally get to know what’s going on. ‘I’m sorting the shopping. I’ve got ours to do, Polly and Matt’s and a couple of other people in the street, and then I’ve got the phone calls…’

A lot of people we know are on their own, and with lockdown they’re even more isolated, so Claire has drawn up a rota of people to call on the telephone to make sure they get some human interaction. A brilliant idea – probably one of mine actually. I’ve taught Claire practically everything she knows.

‘Meow,’ I say, settling myself on her lap and purring my approval.

‘You cats are so lucky being able to go out, but don’t let strangers pet you. I know Jonathan said you probably couldn’t get the virus but I’m not letting you take any chances.’

‘Meow.’ I don’t really understand what she means but I’m not going too far from home at the moment, so strangers petting me shouldn’t be a huge problem. What is a huge problem is the fact that last week they had been unable to get us our favourite cat food, due to people doing something called ‘panic buying.’ While I appreciate that humans are looking out for their cats it seems selfish, because it isn’t just cat food they’re hoarding. Among other things, toilet paper is apparently like gold dust. It shows no consideration for others in my opinion, and especially for people who can’t afford to buy in bulk. If I owned a supermarket there would be trouble, let me tell you…

‘Don’t worry, I’ll get you plenty of treats. And wine for me. And chocolate for Jonathan and the kids. We need cheering up at the moment,’ Claire says.

I nuzzled her. She’s doing an amazing job of keeping everyone together. The children who are going stir crazy, only being allowed out once a day; Jonathan who isn’t pleased about working from home with us all under his feet (quite literally earlier); and even us, well we’re all unsettled, especially Pickles. I decide I will be very helpful to Claire from now on and do all I can to support her. That’s the kind of cat I am. It’s a shame I can’t operate a phone though, so I can do little more than offer moral support and do my best to keep Pickles and George out of trouble. That last part was easier said than done. It’s a full time job.

In that spirit, George and I go too when Claire and the kids take Pickles for his walk. Jonathan was still shut in his office, muttering about getting a lock fitted. It’s warm as we set out on Edgar Road, and I can’t help but think how quiet it is compared to normal. People wave at us, either from windows or front doors. We made sure to cross the street when we saw anyone else on the pavement to keep our distance. I greet a couple of my cat friends from afar, but of course I’ll see them later – cats aren’t limited by restrictions yet, after all. I realise then how lucky we are to have so much freedom, and I resolve not to complain about how the humans are encroaching on my space at home so much.

At Polly’s house, we pause and Claire phones Polly, so they can all come to the window and wave at us. Goodness how we miss them, but they look OK, which is the main thing. Pickles is so excited to see Polly, Matt and the children, Henry and Martha, he waggles his bum and barks as loud as he can. Poor Pickles, it must be so hard for him not to be able to see them properly, and as he’s merely a dog, he doesn’t understand the way us cats do. I decide to give him extra attention from now on, and I would tell George to do the same.

It’s funny how a smile and a wave, which isn’t much, feels like such a lot these days. To some people in lockdown it’s EVERYTHING. Sometimes it takes something bad to appreciate the simpler things in life, and this was definitely a lesson to be learnt in this pandemic. Kindness – something I’ve always tried to instill in my cats and humans alike – friendliness, and just love in general. That’s what’s important in this world, and I hope that, when this is all over, people will remember that. I have a feeling not all of them will though; humans can be a bit selfish. But I’m an optimistic cat so I live in hope. My paws will be firmly crossed for change, in any case.

***

That night, after our ticking off from Jonathan (who wasn’t really angry, because his client found it funny), we all snuggle down in the living room. Summer sits with her dad in his armchair, and Toby, Claire, me, George and Pickles all share the sofa. The humans put on a film about a bear who wore a coat and talked, which doesn’t feel very realistic to me, but we are all together and that’s what matters.

‘I will go back to school one day,’ Summer declares as if it were her choice.

‘Yes, you will, sweetie,’ Jonathan agrees.

‘I miss my lessons and my friends,’ Toby says, sadly.

‘I miss my friends but not my lessons,’ Summer adds.

‘I miss my office,’ Jonathan says, looking pointedly at me. I swish my tail. I didn’t start it, did I?

‘But we are so lucky,’ Claire says. ‘We are healthy, our friends and family are all OK. Even Polly and Matt, Henry and Martha seem fine, so they’ll be allowed out of self-isolation soon. We have food and lovely house, and most importantly we have each other.’

‘Claire, you’re so sentimental,’ Jonathan teases. ‘But you are also so right.’

‘It makes you realise, kids, that money and toys aren’t the most important thing after all,’ Claire goes on. ‘People are.’

‘Meow!’ I rinterject indignantly.

‘And cats of course!’ Claire chuckles. Pickles lets out a loud snore.

‘And dogs as well,’ Toby finishes.

‘Our family and our friends, our pets who are our family, that’s what matters. We are so lucky to have each other. We have to remember that. We are one lucky household, aren’t we, Alfie?’ Claire says, stroking me.

‘Meow,’ I agree. We really are, and there aren’t enough pilchards in the world to persuade me otherwise.