Full Steam Ahead, Felix

24. A Day to Remember

Nobody was happier to see Felix back to her usual self than her Facebook fans. For lots of them, checking her Facebook page each morning had become the highlight of their day. They loved to see new portraits of the beautiful cat or to watch one of Dan’s ‘Floof Files’ videos. Felix was an incredibly photogenic pussy and a single snapshot of her patrolling the platforms or sitting up on the counter to check that a passenger’s Metrocard was valid was more than enough to send people away happy, their hearts a little lighter thanks to the station cat.

She helped people all the time, even those many thousands of miles away. In the mountains of Switzerland, for example, a woman in her fifties found Felix online while she was still grieving for the loss of her own cat, Pauli, a black pussy who had passed away aged fourteen in September 2017. Gisela missed Pauli so much it felt like her heart had been torn out. She cried many tears and was in a very dark place. She was still in it when she first discovered Felix on Facebook about eight months after Pauli’s death.

But then a strange thing happened. As she began following Felix on Facebook, the darkness seemed to subside. Reading Felix’s posts and the lovely comments of her friends from all over the world made Gisela’s own world seem brighter. Looking in Felix’s eyes through her photographs seemed to show her that there was still potential for her to find lightness again. She felt full of thankfulness to be part of the Floof Fan Club. She loved being a member of such a warm and loving community – and at the centre of it all was a cat who seemed to have such wisdom and love in her big green eyes.

Slowly, Gisela felt that Felix was giving her back the strength that she’d lost after Pauli had gone. Her neighbours commented that the light had come back into her eyes as she told them stories about this wonderful cat she’d met online. And, after a while, Felix made the biggest difference of all. Gisela had always felt she could never give another cat a home, as Pauli was just too special, but she began to realise that she did have a lot to offer, after all. Felix made her want to offer a cat from a shelter a cosy home and it became something she was determined to do. Really, Felix simply made her want to live again.

It was a gift indeed.

Another woman who had fallen hard for Felix was a lady called Gloria, who lived in Tiverton in Devon. She had always loved cats, though she’d never had one of her own, something she regretted. After making friends with Felix online, she eventually made plans to meet her in person in October 2018 – almost to her surprise. Initially, she had thought Felix was ‘just’ a cat and hadn’t necessarily felt the need to take their friendship offline; it had seemed strange, back then, even to think of travelling five hours to meet a cat. But over the months that Gloria had been following Felix on Facebook, the cat had slowly grown on her and she had come to realise how very special she was – until meeting her not only seemed sensible but desirable, even essential. Seeing her online every day – getting to know her through her pictures, captions and charity work – had made her a big part of Gloria’s day-to-day existence and she was really looking forward to visiting Huddersfield. But on 2 July 2018, Gloria’s life changed forever – and the fallout affected her distantly scheduled trip too.

Gloria had gone to the hospital that day for what she thought was a regular check-up for a condition she had – pulmonary fibrosis. While she was there, the consultant had asked to speak with her. And he had bluntly said, ‘This is the end now, Gloria. I’m going to arrange palliative care for you from this point forward.’

Gloria was shocked to her core. She knew she had been ill, but she had never been told it was a terminal condition. ‘Am I dying?’ she asked the consultant.

He wouldn’t answer her directly, not at first. But she kept on at him, until he conceded that she was.

‘How long do I have?’ asked Gloria numbly.

It was only a matter of months.

Gloria was stunned. Had it been longer, she thought she would have coped better. The suddenness was too scary. That cliff edge of nothing seemed too perilously close. It focused her brain in peculiar ways, giving her a crystal clarity on what was important in life. And she realised that the one thing she really, really wanted to do before she ran out of time was to visit her beloved Felix.

She messaged her privately on Facebook. ‘I was planning to meet you in October,’ she wrote. ‘Please could we bring this forward? I got told today that I have less than a year to live. I really want to meet you before I go.’

She couldn’t die, she told herself, before she’d met Queen Felix.

Her message came through to Angie Hunte and Angela Dunn. They put their heads together and, just as they’d done for the giveaway day the year before, they came up with a way to make Gloria’s visit a very special day – a day that neither Gloria, nor Felix, would ever forget.

On 16 July 2018, Gloria sat on the train heading north, feeling a buzz of excitement flowing through her veins that was even more enlivening to her than the oxygen flowing into her nose from the cannula taped beneath it. She clutched the heavy black bag that held her portable oxygen tank tightly to her side, knowing it was helping to prolong her life and energy – knowing that it was allowing her to take this special trip to meet the station cat. Meeting Felix, in fact, was the number-one item on the emergency bucket list that she had hastily pulled together since receiving her prognosis just fourteen days before.

There were other items on the bucket list. She wanted to fly in a helicopter; to ride on the Orient Express; to travel first class; and to see the Blackpool Illuminations. But Felix trumped them all. Gloria felt that she wouldn’t be able to relax – to face what was coming – without first meeting her furry friend.

Somewhat anxiously, she adjusted the settings on her oxygen and tried to settle back in her seat for the long journey. She was a pale woman in her mid-fifties with short black hair, much slimmer than she once had been, as she’d recently lost weight. Though it had been immensely difficult adjusting to her prognosis, now that this special day had arrived she mostly felt excitement, rather than the fragile vulnerability that had haunted her since leaving hospital. It was a good feeling, a feeling that Felix herself had brought about. Though Gloria knew she wouldn’t have long with the station cat – knew, from pictures posted online of other visitors’ experiences, that it would most likely be a quick five-minute stroke if she was lucky, as the solo station cat was so much in demand – she nevertheless sensed in her weary bones that it would still be worthwhile. Just the idea of seeing the cat with her own eyes felt special. She turned to the lady sitting next to her as the English countryside flashed past the window outside, and her excitement suddenly bubbled over into speech.

‘I’m going to meet Felix today!’ she told her gaily. ‘Felix, the Huddersfield station cat!’

Even saying the words, it didn’t seem real – too much a dream come true.

Her fellow passenger gave her a thin smile – she clearly thought her a bit mad – but Gloria didn’t let her reticence affect her. ‘She means a lot to me,’ she confided further. ‘And this is something that I have to do … while I’m still well enough to do it.’

Speaking to strangers was out of character for Gloria who was, on the whole, a very shy woman. So, as she arrived at York station from Devon – where the two Angelas had told her they should meet – she felt extremely apprehensive about rendezvousing with these two unfamiliar women who had promised to take her to Felix. She clutched her oxygen closer and walked slowly along the platform. To her frustration, she was already finding that she couldn’t walk far without needing a rest. It was a very, very difficult thing to notice your own deterioration, and to know that your fate was just round the corner.

Further along the platform, Angela Dunn nudged Angie Hunte. ‘I think that must be her,’ she said, pointing out the slim figure.

They went over and introduced themselves, and Angie Hunte carefully took the heavy oxygen bag from Gloria, so that she could carry it for her instead. ‘Now, let’s go to Huddersfield!’ the team leader said brightly.

‘Oh, but I need to get a ticket,’ burst out Gloria. ‘My ticket was only to York.’

Angie smiled at her warmly. ‘Don’t worry about that, sweetheart,’ she said. ‘We’ve got all that sorted out for you.’

And to Gloria’s surprise, she was escorted on to a TPE service as a guest of honour – without having to pay her fare. Not only that, but the Angelas ushered her into first class.

Gloria couldn’t believe it. Travelling first class was on her bucket list! This was turning out to be a bigger adventure than she could ever have imagined.

The three women sat quietly as they travelled, taking their lead from Gloria. Gradually, however, the Tiverton lady started to talk. She told them shyly that she recognised them from Felix’s book, which she’d loved reading. She told them how very, very sick she was. And she told them that all she wanted to do was get to Felix.

‘Well, we’re nearly there now,’ Angie told her reassuringly, as the train pulled into Leeds. ‘Next stop: Huddersfield.’

Gloria gazed out of the window with rapt attention. Having read Felix’s book, it was like seeing a story spring to life as the train drew closer to Felix’s home town. There was the iconic landmark of the Emley transmitting station … There was the corrugated-iron roof of the station, where the pigeons lived … There was the Huddersfield station sign, declaring that they had arrived. Gloria disembarked with a buzzing in her belly, feeling excited to be breathing the same air as her favourite cat.

But even though she felt a surge of excitement, she could manage only staggered steps as she stepped clumsily off the train. She inhaled deeply, but her lungs relied more on the oxygen under her nose to help her catch her breath than the magic air she was finally sharing with Felix. The two Angelas exchanged glances. Rather than taking her straight to meet the cat, they first invited her into the first-class lounge.

There, Gloria said that she wanted to change. Though she kept on her ripped jeans, she slipped off her black top and revealed a white T-shirt with pink lettering that she’d had specially made. Its hot-pink words read ‘THE BUCKET LIST LADY’.

Neither Gloria nor the two Angelas made any comment on her clothes. Angie Hunte sensed that Gloria did not want that, did not want their commentary. She had a very clear awareness of Gloria preparing to meet Felix – not only sartorially, but emotionally too – and there was an intensity that was palpable. Gloria had a nervous energy about her now. She kept putting her hand over her mouth as though she couldn’t quite trust herself to speak, couldn’t quite trust her senses that she was here at last, about to live out her dream.

When Angie sensed that her preparations were complete and she was ready, Angie beamed at her. ‘Right then,’ she said brightly. ‘Let’s go and meet Her Majesty.’

Gloria smiled back at her, feeling such a strong sense of anticipation that it was quite overwhelming. Will Felix be friendly? she wondered. Will we share any kind of connection? She felt a rush of nerves again, fearful that the visit might not live up to her expectations.

The two Angelas led the Bucket List Lady along platform one and through the door that led into the back office. Team leader Dan was on duty and said a warm hello to her. Thanks to his heavy involvement in the Facebook page, Gloria knew all about him – including about his and Sara’s baby, as they’d announced their pregnancy on Felix’s page – so she said a warm hello back.

‘You’re a VIP today, Gloria,’ Angie told her. ‘So you have to give us your autograph in our signing-in book.’

Angela Dunn – who had been designated official photographer for the day – snapped a photo of Gloria signing the official TPE paperwork. It said Gloria was a VIP and that she had come to see Felix. And then it was time.

Angela Dunn went ahead to check that Felix was ready. ‘Please let madam be in the mood for visitors,’ she muttered under her breath. You never could tell with Felix how that might play out. As the only station cat, Felix had so much to do, and now she was older she didn’t always have the energy required for meeting fans. Yet when Angela opened the door to the ladies’ locker room, Felix was lying comfortably in her radiator bed and the look in her green eyes said clearly to her lady-in-waiting, ‘Yes, you may enter.’

‘Gloria,’ Angela called. ‘She’s ready for you.’

Gloria entered the room on tenterhooks, not knowing quite what she would find. As she crossed the threshold and saw Felix sitting in her radiator bed, it was as if time stood still. The nervous energy that had been building up swiftly dissipated. All tension drained away. In its place, an intense calmness seeped into their souls, as Gloria stared at Felix, and Felix at Gloria.

The station cat was bigger than she’d been expecting, absolutely massive with fur and fluff, even after her recent haircut. Yet she was also much friendlier than Gloria had been expecting. In those glorious green eyes was a sense of acceptance, even an invitation. Eyes fixed firmly on her feline friend, Gloria edged fully into the room and walked towards Felix.

She was so focused on her that she barely noticed as Angela Dunn fetched a chair for the frail woman to sit upon. It arrived just in time as Gloria bent her legs to sit beside the station cat, in such a way that her lap was almost under Felix’s bed, so it seemed rather as though the cat was on her knees.

‘Oh, you are lovely,’ Gloria whispered to her, her soft voice close to breaking as her dream came true.

Felix raised her head, all the better to hear her.

‘I’m so happy to meet you,’ Gloria whispered. ‘I’ve always wanted to meet you, Felix. You are just so beautiful, do you know that? You are so very, very fluffy!’

Felix’s ears pricked up as she listened to Gloria talk. Her standard response to such greetings was cool agreement. ‘Yes, I really am gorgeous, aren’t I? I one hundred per cent agree …’ But Angie and Angela, watching closely, realised that Felix was not, in fact, communicating with Gloria with her usual sense of arrogant self-satisfaction at all. Instead, they both felt that there was an instant, and deep, connection between the two.

Gloria felt it too. It was powerful. It was as though Felix sensed that Gloria was different from her other visitors, as though she sensed she had a problem. Later, after Gloria had gone, Angie Hunte would whisper fiercely to Angela, ‘I swear to you: Felix knew. I swear she knew she was dying.’

It was not a far-fetched idea. There are several well-documented cases of cats sniffing out their owners’ cancerous tumours or their hidden, internal illnesses, even one case of an American care-home cat, Oscar, who seemed able to predict the deaths of residents – he would curl up with them in the hours before they passed away, giving them a final piece of comfort before they crossed to the other side. Scientists reasoned with typical verbiage that cats’ superior ‘olfactory discrimination’ might be behind these sixth-sense skills – but whatever the science, Gloria only knew that it felt amazing to be truly seen by Felix.

There is an Irish proverb that says, ‘A cat’s eyes are windows enabling us to see into another world.’ Looking in Felix’s eyes that July afternoon, Gloria felt as though she had glimpsed that other world, which was, perhaps, the world that lay ahead for her all too soon. Somehow, though, through her calmness of spirit and her generous love, Felix made her feel able to accept it.

It was incredibly comforting to be with her. ‘Therapeutic’ was the word that Gloria later thought summed it up best. As she stroked the fluffy cat and whispered sweet words to her, she realised that she had never felt so calm and relaxed in all her life. It was as though Felix took away all the badness, all the fear and doubt, and left behind a peaceful acceptance of whatever was coming next. Gloria fixed her eyes on her hungrily, as though she was committing the entire experience to memory, not wanting to miss a single detail. This was how Felix looked as she gazed back at her with total, unconditional acceptance. This was the exact position of the black blob by her heart, which she showed to Gloria as she invited her to tickle her tummy. This was the width of her wide white whiskers; this the texture of her fur.

As Gloria enjoyed her audience with the station cat, the two Angelas exchanged looks of silent astonishment. They had never, ever seen Felix behave in quite this way before. And as Gloria’s visit went on, and then on, lasting longer than any previous audience, their surprise deepened further. Felix was generally patient with fans, but she usually gave them a finite length of time with her before indicating – by walking off or falling asleep or through an ill-tempered swipe of her sharpened claws – that their time was up. Yet she showed no such impatience with Gloria. Angie Hunte could not believe her eyes. Felix let Gloria take as long as she needed.

Angie could tell that the visit meant a great deal to Gloria, so much so that Angie felt as if she was intruding. A dying woman’s wish was being played out in front of her; the emotion was intense. Gloria was whispering to Felix, telling her how much she meant to her, telling her how honoured she was to have the chance to meet her before she died. Angie wasn’t sure she could take it. It was such a sobering reminder that you never knew how long you had on this earth, a reminder to be grateful for everything you’d got. Angie decided that she should leave Gloria and Felix to it and slipped quietly out of the locker-room door. Gloria, caught up in her conversation with Felix, did not even notice that she’d gone.

Only Angela Dunn remained with them, quietly documenting the meeting through photographs, as Gloria had asked her to. So she was there as Gloria whispered softly to Felix, in a voice that was tight with emotion, ‘Have you ever had anybody visit you before who is dying?’

It was Angela who answered on Felix’s behalf, as the cat kept her eyes trained on Gloria, trying to calm her as she frankly faced the truth of her prognosis.

‘No,’ Angela said softly. ‘No, Gloria – you’re the first.’

Gloria gave a wry smile, and the bitter twist of her lips spoke of time lost and wasted opportunities. ‘Well then,’ she said, ‘I might be famous for something.’

Angela couldn’t help the tears that pricked at her eyes. ‘Oh, Gloria,’ she said, helplessly. ‘You have to give over; you’re making me cry …’

But Gloria did not cry. Meeting Felix, somehow, stopped her from feeling sorry for herself – even though that was how she had spent much of her time since receiving her prognosis. It made her realise that she needed to dwell not on her death but on the life she had left.

So, in the end, it was Gloria who broke away from Felix. The station cat had gifted her however much time she needed – time that was hers to grant, even if she couldn’t stop the larger clock that was inexorably ticking down. Gloria sat with her for almost half an hour, gradually absorbing the magic of the cat, and when she stood at last and told Angela she was ready to go it seemed that Felix was not quite finished with her yet – not with this woman with whom she had felt such a deep connection.

For the station cat followed Gloria out on to the platform, keeping her steady eyes locked on her, as though she didn’t want to let Gloria out of her sight. She lay down on the platform and once more Gloria bent to stroke her. It was hard for her to do, because bending over took what little breath she had left in her damaged lungs, but she persevered for as long as she could, before she came upright again with a gasp, breathing deeply from the cannula running under her nose.

As she sat back, Angela noticed how tired she looked. Angie Hunte had now rejoined them and suggested that Gloria use the station wheelchair for the final adventure of the day: touring the station with all its Felix hidey-holes and secret spots that had been described in her book. Normally, Gloria was embarrassed to use a wheelchair, but the two Angelas made her feel so comfortable with the idea that she accepted their offer.

They took her all over the station, ending up at Billy’s bench in front of his memorial garden, where Felix had spent so many happy hours playing as a youngster. In the softly fading light of the summer evening, it made for a truly peaceful place.

‘How are you feeling now, Gloria?’ Angie asked her.

Gloria smiled. ‘I feel like royalty,’ she said gratefully. ‘You’ve treated me so well. I wasn’t expecting any of this. I don’t think I’ve ever been made to feel this special my whole life long. I can never thank you enough for giving me such a brilliant day to remember.’

Angie patted her hand. ‘It’s been our pleasure,’ she said. ‘We were glad to help.’

By now, it had been hours since Gloria had set off from her home in far-away Tiverton. The battery on her oxygen tank would soon need charging, and after all the excitement she found she felt exhausted. Though part of her wished she could stay at the station forever, she knew it was time to go home. She had come, and seen, and conquered her fears. There was just one thing left to do.

Her farewell with Felix, out on platform one, was as bitter as it was sweet. Sweet because she had finally met her and fulfilled her dream. Bitter because she knew, in her heart of hearts, that she would probably never see her again. It was very hard to leave her. But, with a final, loving stroke, Gloria whispered her goodbyes.

As she waited for the train to take her back to York – she would again be travelling in first class, with the Angelas accompanying her – she had one final message for her hosts.

‘It’s been such a lovely experience,’ she told the women. ‘It’s been everything that I wanted – and more. And when the time comes,’ she went on, trying to retain that calm that Felix had given her, ‘I’m going to try my hardest to remember these moments.

‘This is what I want to remember at the end.’