Alfie the Doorstep Cat

Chapter Twenty-Three

I was running late. I had to bolt from number 22B, where Franceska and Aleksy had been dressing me up and taking photos, creating hours of fun for them and Thomasz, who couldn’t stop giggling, and hours of humiliation for me. They’d put hats and sunglasses on me, scarves and anything else that they could find. Then they’d taken photos with Franceska’s phone and laughed all over again. I was surely above all this? But they didn’t seem to think so and short of running away in a huff, I had to put up with it. Luckily, I loved the family enough to know that one day I would forgive them (probably tomorrow), but only on the proviso that I got sardines again.

The dress-up game took most of the afternoon. I didn’t see Polly or Henry at all but I couldn’t think about that because I wanted to be home to see Claire, and make sure she was happy before her dinner with Joe.

I rushed through the cat flap and came face to leg with her. She looked great and the food smelt amazing as I rubbed her leg in greeting.

‘Oh there you are, I was beginning to worry. Do you want your supper? Quickly, Joe is due any minute.’ She seemed flustered as she dished some food into my bowls; she now had a special mat on the floor for them. I ate my supper quietly, and then I gave myself a very thorough clean. I wanted to look my best for Joe too.

Although Claire was busy cooking, washing up my dishes and playing with her hair, she wasn’t stressed, she seemed more excited than anything. I felt excited too. When the doorbell went, we both jumped. She fluffed her hair again and I ran my paw over my fur, and then I followed her to answer the door.

He was standing behind a huge bouquet of flowers, but I still recognised him from the other night; you couldn’t forget that red hair.

‘Joe, come in.’ He walked in the door, kissed Claire on each cheek and handed her the flowers. He also produced a bottle of wine.

‘Thank you so much, they’re beautiful. Come through to the living room and I’ll pour some wine. Are you OK with white?’

‘Lovely. Don’t worry; I remember where the living room is!’ He winked at her. I tried not to feel indignant that he had ignored me, so I followed them both through into the room. He sat on the sofa and I sat on the floor in front of him.

‘Did you meet Alfie the other night?’ she asked him.

‘Not that I remember. Hi, Alfie,’ he said, reaching out to stroke me. ‘Cute cat,’ he said, smiling. But I knew he didn’t mean it – I could tell. Firstly, he nearly sat on me the other night, so I knew full well he’d seen me. And secondly, you can tell how people feel about you from the way they stroke you. Of course there are other ways of telling, but if someone really likes cats, they stroke you as if they mean it. I guess it’s like the cat equivalent of a handshake. I’ve watched some people take a hand and give it a good solid shake, whilst others barely touch it. Joe, with his half-hearted stroke, definitely didn’t mean it and I felt sad. Not only did Jonathan’s friend overtly dislike me, but Joe secretly did too. I wasn’t doing very well at all.

As if to prove me right, when Claire went to pour the drinks he looked around the room without giving me another glance. I tried to approach him, but he looked at me with mean eyes.

‘Get, cat,’ he said, quietly. Deeply insulted, I slunk away and went to sit under the chair. I might as well observe the evening, as I obviously wasn’t going to be invited to participate in any way.

Claire appeared to be happy and he seemed charming with her, but I knew immediately he was faking things, and not only because of his behaviour towards me. He made her laugh, although I couldn’t understand why; nothing he said was remotely funny.

‘I love working in advertising,’ he said. ‘The creative part and dealing with clients. I particularly enjoy the face to face aspect of it.’

‘I guess so, although in my job I prefer it when I don’t have to deal with the clients, I often find it easier to get the job done.’

‘I hear you, Claire. But I find it challenging. You know, when you get a really good idea and the client hates it, but you really want it and you finally persuade them. There’s no buzz like it.’

‘I guess that you are more suited to it than me. But anyway, since being in London I’m getting used to it.’

‘Different from Exeter, though.’

‘Very. But you know, I’m really happy I made the move.’

‘Let’s drink to that. New start, new friends.’ They clinked their glasses.

‘Right, new friend, let’s sit down for dinner. And hope that I don’t poison you.’

I sat under the table while they ate, quietly eavesdropping and totally uninterested in the food. I decided that Joe might be nice to look at, all bright red hair and blue eyes, but he was boring. He talked about himself an awful lot and what made me really mad was that Claire hung on his every word. She was funny and smart and lovely but at dinner she turned into an airhead. More like the women that Jonathan used to date. She agreed with everything he said. Even when he said he liked hunting, and I knew that Claire hated it. She had told me when I moved in that I should never bring her anything dead, because she didn’t believe anything should die just for the sake of it. Had I been able to answer her, I would have said that it was just a cat’s way of showing love and affection, but instead I respected her wishes. Now this idiot sat opposite her, talking about shooting seasons and plucking pheasants and she didn’t even tell him what she’d told me. I had half a mind to bring her a dead bird to teach her a lesson.

Instead I sulked under the table, unnoticed, until they got up and went back to the sofa. They started kissing in an alarming way, as if they were wrestling with each other. I didn’t know whether to go in and save Claire or not, but she didn’t sound as if she needed help.

‘You’re gorgeous,’ Joe said, when he took his lips off her for a minute.

‘So are you. Come on, let’s go to bed.’ They both practically ran upstairs without a backward glance; it seemed that they had both forgotten all about me.

Sitting watching the night sky, I was feeling increasingly insecure. I was worried that I was disposable to both Jonathan and Claire, and I really hoped I wasn’t. Even with four families, life still felt precarious. Especially now it seemed that both Claire and Jonathan had found ‘friends’ who didn’t like me. This was a turn of events that I hadn’t anticipated.

It was one thing to win round owners and other cats, but these two were something else. Even with Agnes, who was incredibly cold towards me at first, I could see goodness in her. The same was true of Jonathan; although his was well buried, I knew it was there. However I didn’t sense any good in either Philippa or Joe, and I was terrified that they would hurt me.