Alfie The Doorstep Cat

Chapter Sixteen

The following morning was busy and a little exhausting. I woke up at Jonathan’s; it was dark as he rushed around getting ready for his new job. He was muttering as he went to shower. Still wet and glistening but with a towel tied around him, he made a coffee. He didn’t eat anything, but quickly laid down a saucer of milk for me. He rushed back upstairs and came down looking very smart, but mumbling under his breath as he struggled to tie his tie. I left the house with him, trying to show my support as I followed him down the street. He was swearing and huffing and puffing which I knew was his way of masking his nerves.

‘Right, Alfie,’ he said. ‘I best go and face the first day back in the real world. Wish me luck.’ I rubbed up against his legs in order to do so. ‘Great, you’d better not have covered me in your bloody hair,’ he muttered, but then he leant down and patted my head before running off down the street. It was obvious that Jonathan loved me, but he certainly didn’t like to show his softer side.

I followed him and tried very hard to keep up with my little legs; I wanted him to see the support I was giving him. He shook his head and laughed as he increased his pace. Breathlessly, we made it to the end of the street and as he went to cross the road, I knew I had to leave him there. I didn’t want to risk going further from Edgar Road than I felt comfortable with.

Still a bit fatigued from my run, I rushed back to Claire’s, where she had just emerged from the shower.

‘Ah, there you are,’ she picked me up and kissed me. ‘Where on earth have you been? I was worried.’ I snuggled into her, to try to ensure she wasn’t upset with me. ‘Maybe you do the cat thing of prowling through the night?’ She did look a bit confused as she said this, but luckily she didn’t seem cross. ‘But if you do, make sure you’re careful,’ she finished.

She put me down and I sat on the chair next to her bed as she got ready. Humans were funny, using a contraption to wash – we have our own inbuilt shower – and then wrapping themselves in towels and clothes. Being a cat was so much easier. We kept our fur on all the time, cleaning ourselves wherever we wanted. In actual fact, we washed ourselves and combed our fur simultaneously; cats were much better designed than humans. And we certainly didn’t need to go to work – something they all seemed to spend a lot of time obsessing over. Although, I was finding that keeping my new families happy was quite hard work, so perhaps I did understand that a bit more now. Claire needed sympathy, Jonathan needed my patience, they both needed my love and help, and at the same time I was also beginning to court the attention of the families in the flats at number 22. Speaking of which, it was time for me to find out what was happening down there.

Lack of exercise was no longer a problem for me as I bounded down the street towards 22A and 22B, feeling in a good cat mood. It was another sunny morning and I could almost smell the warmth as it began to permeate the air. It would be a hot day, I could tell, and for me, with my lovely fur coat, that would mean finding a spot that was sunny but not too hot and not too cool. I liked the sun, but no cat liked getting overheated. Sleeping in a nicely shaded spot was one of my favourite things in the world.

I was very excited to see the door to number 22B open, and two children playing on the small lawn at the front of the building. Although it was shared with 22A, there was no sign of Polly or her crying baby, although I swear I could hear him, as I joined the two boys on the lawn. That wailing sound he made was almost louder than any crying I could do, even in my most heartbroken moments.

The two boys were different sizes, but they were both quite small, and I could hear one of them chatting away to himself, using words I couldn’t quite make out. Suddenly, he spotted me and came up.

‘Cat,’ he said, very clearly, and laughed. I went to make friends with him, rubbing my head on his legs, which made him giggle. The younger boy, who had sat down to play with a toy car, laughed too. The woman I’d met before, Franceska, appeared at the door.

‘Hello, Alfie cat,’ she said. The boy said something to her. ‘Speaking English, Aleksy,’ she said gently, and yet again I wondered where they were from.

‘Mamma, is cat,’ he repeated, and she went up to him and gave him a kiss.

‘You are clever boy,’ she said, before she scooped up the smaller child. ‘We give him food?’

‘Yes, Mamma.’ Aleksy ran ahead into the house and Franceska hung back.

‘Come, Alfie,’ she commanded, and I felt touched at both the invitation and that she had remembered my name. Her accent was quite hard-sounding but I liked her. She had a lovely, gentle way about her; a quality that Jonathan certainly didn’t possess.

We climbed the stairs to their flat, Franceska carrying the smaller boy, and I wondered at how strange it was to cut a house in two. It was something that I found quite puzzling. The flat itself was nice enough, it was bright and modern, but it was also square and small. The stairs led to a small hallway and as I explored, I walked into the living room where there were two small, soft looking sofas which took up most of the space; a spattering of toys and a wooden coffee table. At the end of the room was a dining table and past that, an opening which led to a small kitchen. Unlike Claire’s house, there were things scattered which made it a bit messy and lived-in. And unlike Jonathan’s, it was very short on space.

I thought about how strange humans were. Jonathan had this big house just for him and yet here were four people (despite the fact two of them were quite small), in a space that was so compact. I didn’t understand how that worked, but it didn’t seem very fair. While Franceska busied herself with the boys, I went to snoop. There was a small corridor leading away from the stairs and I found two bedrooms, one which had a cot and a bed in it, the other a double bed. Outside the bedroom was a small, very white bathroom. The bedroom with the cot and bed was quite messy; there were toys scattered all over the floor. The other bedroom was neater and quite plain. There was nothing wrong with the place but I worried that it was too small for a growing family.

After I finished snooping, I joined them. The boys were sat on one of the sofas, side by side. The younger one was clutching a soggy biscuit. Aleksy was pleased to see me and started stroking me, and tickling my neck. It felt nice. Many of my cat friends and acquaintances sang the praises of children, and with Aleksy’s little hands, and his warm smile, I was beginning to understand why.

Franceska returned to the room.

‘We can give him fish, when we have the lunch,’ she said. My ears pricked up excitedly. ‘And then maybe you can practise your English on him. Me too,’ she laughed. ‘And I should phone the number on the tag to make sure he’s not lost.’ I narrowed my eyes. Claire and Jonathan hadn’t changed my tag, so luckily the number was Margaret’s old one. My plan was safe for now.

‘Can he live here?’ Aleksy asked.

‘No, kochanie. We live in flat. We no allowed pets.’ Goodness, I was taken aback. Imagine, being banned from anywhere! That was so unfair.

‘It is not easy,’ he said to me, sadly, as she returned to the kitchen. ‘I speaking Polish in my old house. I learn English before I come here, but hard.’ I snuggled into him, as he looked like he might cry, and he cuddled me, holding on so tightly that I struggled to breathe. I let him squeeze me, though, for as long as I could bear it before I had to wriggle out of his clutches. Yet again, I had found people who needed me. They were far away from home, maybe even further than I had come, and they possessed a sadness that I seemed to have a cat’s sense for these days.

Bringing me back to the present, the smaller child started pawing at me then, with his grubby hands, and although I didn’t mind, I made a note that I would need a good wash when I finally got out of there.

I hadn’t had much contact with small children. When I lived with Margaret, there was a young girl who visited from time to time and she was fun, always wanting to play with me and feed me food from her plate, but that was my only experience. Then when I started my nomadic existence and I met other cats, one of the suggestions was that I should find a family with children. They suggested that it was the most fun, like having friends – but friends who fed you and loved you and looked after you and played with you. In this flat, I felt I was getting that.

Although I was fond of Claire and Jonathan, I couldn’t pretend that they gave me all I wanted. Yes I was fed and fussed sometimes, but I was also left on my own. It had vaguely occurred to me at this point that it might seem my doorstep antics could lead me into a bit of a pickle, but you see, I did, to a point, have a plan.

I couldn’t rely just on Claire. I didn’t know that she was on her own when I had chosen her house – I had been expecting at least two people. And when I went into Jonathan’s house, I had been expecting a family, not a grumpy single man, so that didn’t turn out as I’d planned either. I was worried that my home life was still too precarious and that had led me here. It all made perfect sense in my head. It was like the number 22 flats could be my daytime homes, and the other houses my evening abodes. I was sure I could make it work and I was determined to do so.

So I rolled onto my back to let Aleksy tickle my tummy, and I flipped my tail up in delight when I was on all fours again. Afterwards, Aleksy wanted me to hide under the chair and jump out at him. I wasn’t sure why this made him and Thomasz so happy, but I was pleased to do it. I then pretended I was chasing an invisible bird which seemed to make both boys shriek with laughter.

After playing for a bit, Franceska returned and picked up the younger boy.

‘The phone number no work. Maybe they change it without changing the tag.’ She looked thoughtful. ‘Thomasz, sleeping time.’ She took him down the corridor, and returned a little later without him. I heard him crying a bit, before going quiet. Aleksy was drawing something at the coffee table and I sat on the sofa, not sure of my next move but feeling quite comfortable.

‘So, Aleksy, Thomasz sleeping, we do our English,’ she said.

‘OK, Mamma.’

‘How old are you?’ she asked. I watched them both as they began their conversation, my head going back and forth between them.

‘Six. And Thomasz is two.’

‘Very good. Where you live?’

‘London. We from Poland but it is far away now.’ He looked a bit sad, and I saw Franceska’s eyes darken.

‘We go home some time,’ she said, quietly.

‘Pappa say this is our home,’ Aleksy replied.

‘Yes, maybe we have two homes,’ she said, trying to sound bright. I wanted to tell him what a good idea that was, like me, so I miaowed.

‘Ha, the cat makes loud noises.’

‘The cat called Alfie.’

‘Alfie?’ Aleksy repeated it slowly, as if he was trying the sounds out. I wondered at how hard it must be, to have to come and learn a different language, when he can’t have been speaking at all for long.

‘Yes and maybe he visit a lot?’ She looked at me questioningly, and I put my head to one side to try to tell her that, yes, I would visit a lot.

‘Mama, what if I don’t like school?’ Aleksy’s big brown eyes filled with tears.

‘You will, and it might feel hard at first but you will be OK.’

‘OK.’

‘We all have to be brave now, Pappa has good job here, and he can make things good for us if we all try hard to it.’

‘OK. I miss Pappa.’

‘He has to work very much but soon we will see him more. He is doing this for us.’

She went over and sat down next to Aleksy. He had drawn a picture of a house. It wasn’t the house that we were in, though. It was a funny looking building, with many windows.

‘I miss our old place too,’ Franceska said, softly, as she stroked his hair. ‘But we will love it here. We just need to be very brave.’ And I wondered who she was trying to convince; him or herself.

I was unable to move; watching the mother and son together, I felt like crying myself. I was seeing people trying so hard, learning that life could be really difficult and upsetting for humans as well as cats.

Suddenly, Franceska got up. ‘Right, we make some food. Aleksy, come help and you can give to Alfie.’

He cheered up at this idea, and followed his mum into the kitchen. I went, too, and watched as she got some sardines out of the fridge and put them on a plate.

‘Yum,’ I thought to myself, this was a treat. Salmon, prawns and now sardines. I really had chosen the perfect street to live in.