Alfie The Doorstep Cat

Chapter Twenty-Six

I was at Jonathan’s, waiting for him to come home from work and fervently hoping he would arrive soon.

Another week had passed and things were deteriorating further. When I had set my cat heart on Edgar Road, I had felt as if all my troubles were over. The excitement of finding homes and people had long since passed. There was too much worry, too much uncertainty, but by now I was too emotionally invested into their lives to just leave. Not that I had anywhere to go, of course.

I missed the families at number 22. There wasn’t much point visiting, as they were still away, although I couldn’t help myself walking down there sometimes and pining for my friends.

Going to Jonathan’s wasn’t too bad. Despite the fact that the horrible Philippa was there quite a lot, it didn’t matter too much. At least I knew where I was with her, and although she wasn’t nice to me, she was nice to Jonathan. Well, she was sometimes but she seemed to always tell him what to do, not that he seemed to mind. The more I tried to understand these humans, the less I understood them.

That night, Jonathan came home and made a huge fuss of me, which took me by surprise.

‘Philippa’s gone away on business, so it’s just you and me for the next few days.’ I licked my lips in delight. I shouldn’t have been so happy; after all, Jonathan only wanted me because his stupid girlfriend had gone away, but I was grateful for any affection and love he showed me. I decided to make the most of our time together; if Jonathan remembered how charming I was, he might never let Philippa criticise me or call me names again.

Despite the fact that I had to check on Claire regularly (and the increasingly lazy Joe), Jonathan and I had a lovely boys’ time together. We definitely re-bonded with touch and smell, and I gave him a couple of little gifts to show that he was back in my good books.

The strange thing was that, although he spoke to Philippa at night, I got the feeling that he was happier without her. It was weird, but when she was there, he seemed to have to be on his guard all the time. He was polite and tidy and cleaned up. But without her, he wore his gym clothes, he left plates on the side overnight, and he was so much more relaxed. I’m not sure the mess was a good thing, by the way, never having been a slovenly cat myself. But nevertheless, I wondered why humans were so stupid. Claire had been happier without Joe, I was pretty sure, and Jonathan was happier without Philippa. When Claire had come back from seeing her mum, she had thrown herself into her friendship with Tasha and the book club and seemed quite happy. Now, with Joe, there was something missing again. Her sparkle had gone. And Jonathan seemed tense when Philippa was around, and he actually seemed pleased she had gone away.

I really didn’t understand them at all. Not one bit.

Over the next few days, Jonathan and I developed a little routine. I still made sure that I spent enough time with Claire, but I spent even more with Jonathan. We ate together, and yes, I had so much fresh fish, I was in heaven. I didn’t even miss my sardines. We watched TV together. He would slump on the sofa with his beer and I would sit nestled into his side while he would absently stroke me. We went up to bed together again and the cashmere blanket returned. He talked to me, as well: about work, which he was enjoying; his new friends, who he was planning on drinking with at the weekend; and his gym, which he went to often, as he didn’t want to ‘let himself go’, The only thing he didn’t talk to me about was Philippa, which said it all really.

But still, every evening when they spoke on the phone he would end the call by telling her that he missed her. He even said he loved her. I couldn’t believe it; I just didn’t believe he really did.

It was at this point that I developed another plan. Everything that had happened had changed me and given me new ideas. It seemed clear to me what I needed to do. Jonathan couldn’t really be happy with Philippa, and Joe wasn’t good enough for my Claire, so I had the brilliant idea of getting Claire and Jonathan together. After all, I had been the one who started the friendship between Franceska and Polly! Claire and Jonathan both loved me and I knew they would be perfect together. I just needed to try to figure out a way to make it happen.

One day, I tried hard to get Jonathan to follow me out of the house by miaowing very loudly as if something was wrong, when I knew Claire would be nearby, but his mobile phone rang and by the time he came off the call, it was too late to engineer the meeting. Another time, I tried to get Claire to follow me to Jonathan’s by yelping and then running off. But she thought I was playing and told me not to be such a ‘silly cat’. So far, I had no more ideas on how to get them together, but I was a determined cat and I knew I wouldn’t give up.

I couldn’t give up. I was seriously worried about Claire. Joe hadn’t left Claire’s house since the night of the Chinese. Well he had, but only to get a bag of his stuff and come back. He sat around all day watching TV and eating her food, and then, when she came home in the evening, he would be mean to her and then apologise, blaming the stress of his job situation. He had tried to kick me a number of times and although I managed to dodge him, he was becoming more menacing each time. I couldn’t leave, because I was worried about Claire, but I was getting increasingly anxious when I was actually there.

There was no sign of Tasha, and I missed her. There was just Joe, sitting on Claire’s sofa, with no intention of moving, and Claire, running around him like a timid mouse.

The way he was treating her, I knew I had to get Joe out of our lives. But it was as if he had cast a spell on her. She didn’t seem happy any more, but I don’t think she realised it, as she spent more and more time trying to please Joe. It was another human contradiction I couldn’t understand. I wished I could talk to Tasha, because I was sure that between us we would sort something out. I was certain that she would have noticed what had happened to her friend, but of course I couldn’t do that. So instead I became a bit of an invisible, stealth cat. I became adept at keeping out of his way, hiding behind furniture, but with my ears pricked up so I could hear everything. I knew that he spoke on the phone a lot when she was out. I knew he wasn’t really ever going to get his job back because I had been right all along – it was his fault. I was pretty sure that he had no intention of leaving Claire’s house, because he was giving up his flat. This was turning into a terrible mess.

When Claire was home, I would make myself seen. She was still fussing me and feeding me but I could see the way Joe was beginning to affect her. She looked tired and worried all day, and she was definitely getting thin again.

That evening, she got home from work and the first thing Joe asked was what they were having for dinner.

‘I’ve got steak,’ she answered, sounding weary.

‘OK, good. Let me know when it’s ready.’ When Claire was home, he watched TV all the time, drank beer and let Claire do everything. He didn’t tidy the house or clean, he didn’t shop or even cook. And she never said anything to him, although I knew this must upset her, being such a tidy person herself. Even I knew not to leave my cat toys lying around.

I was pretty sure that he would never leave, and the worst thing was that I didn’t think Claire would ask him to leave, either. I realised I couldn’t abandon Claire to this horrible man that I didn’t trust – it made my job on this street even more important. It was in the darkest times that I would be needed the most.

I wondered, almost on a daily basis, how I had got to this. I’d gone from a loving, largely simple home with Margaret and Agnes, to having to fight for survival, living in two main homes and two part-time ones. Now I was in a complete tailspin about everyone. I was only a cat, for goodness sake. I wasn’t built to deal with so much turmoil.