Oliver The Cat Who Saved Christmas

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

So I now had human friends and cat friends who were expecting babies – and none of them seemed very happy about it. By the way, Charlie, I noticed you looking a bit apprehensive when I mentioned George taking me to the vet’s for that little operation. Honestly, it wasn’t because George was being cruel to me, even though at the time I admit I was frightened out of my life.

‘Ollie,’ he said in his kind, reassuring voice, ‘I’ll never know exactly what happened to you when you were very tiny, but when you were handed in to the people at the Cats’ Protection League, you were starving, and lucky to be alive.’

You can imagine how I shuddered to be reminded of this, but he quickly went on:

‘Your mother was probably a stray who had lots of kittens and, sadly, whoever found you and your brothers and sisters didn’t want you. There are lots of poor stray cats in the world, Ollie, all of them homeless and hungry and having lots of unwanted kittens that nobody looks after. If I didn’t have you neutered, we’d just be adding to the problem. It wouldn’t be your fault – you’d just be following your instincts. But I want to be a responsible cat owner, and do what’s right.’

At the time, although I was moved by what he said, I didn’t fully understand. But I loved George and knew he would never do anything to hurt me. And it’s never bothered me, about having girlfriends. What you’ve never had you’ve never missed. So if your humans make the same decision for you, don’t be frightened. Look at me – I’ve turned out fine, haven’t I?

It was different for my human friends, Nicky and Daniel, of course. Humans tend to stay in their pairs, and keep their human kittens with them and bring them up together. Well, so I’ve been led to believe, although it doesn’t always seem to work out that way. It seems a good arrangement when it works out well, though, and because Nicky and Daniel were such nice humans, who obviously loved each other, I was sure they would stay together and be good parents if only they weren’t so worried about money.

One afternoon, as I passed the place outside the village shop where the pram-pushing females always stopped to chat, I overheard the one called Louise saying:

‘It’s all very well, this idea of looking after each other’s children after Kay’s retired. But I work five mornings a week. Everyone else who works part-time seems to do two or three whole days, so there’s no one available to cover all the hours I work. I’ve asked my boss if I can change to a different arrangement, but it’s no good – he specifically needs me in the office every day. He says I could do less hours each day if necessary, but that wouldn’t help at all. I’d still have no one to look after Freya and Henry, and I’d be earning less money.’

‘What are you going to do?’ Hayley asked her.

‘I have no idea. I’m worried I might lose my job. My mum might be able to come over a couple of days a week, but it’s asking a lot. She doesn’t drive and it’s a long way on the bus. I’ve written an advert, actually, appealing for a nanny. I couldn’t afford a live-in one, and anyway it’d only be for twenty hours a week.’ She waved a piece of paper at her friends. ‘I’m just going to put it on the notice board. But I doubt I’ll have any luck. I can’t think of anyone suitable in the village.’

‘No. Maybe you should advertise in the local paper. You might get someone from Great Broomford, or one of the other villages,’ one of the other women said.

‘Yes. I’ll do that. Thanks.’

Louise went off with her pram, looking tired and worried. I followed her to the notice board and watched as she pinned her paper up.

‘Oh, hello, Oliver,’ she said, almost tripping over me as she turned back to the pram. ‘How are you?’ She bent down and gave me a little stroke. I didn’t mind. I’d got used to the pram ladies. ‘I wish I had your life. No worries, just a nice warm bed and someone to feed you. Lucky old you.’

Actually I could have argued with that. After all, I’d been through enough worries and trauma to last me all nine lifetimes, hadn’t I. But it was true that I was quite comfortably off these days and was certainly beginning to be aware of how difficult life could be for some humans. I walked round her legs, giving her a little head rub to console her, before scampering off after a couple of sparrows who’d caught my attention, hopping about under a nearby hedge.

That same evening, Sarah and Martin were talking about Nicky and Daniel again. They obviously so badly wanted to help them, and I really wished there was something I could do, too.

‘I know the local mums are getting this child minding rota organised,’ Martin said. ‘But are you sure there isn’t anyone in the village who might prefer to pay someone – someone well-qualified like Nicky – to look after their kids?’

‘Not as far as I’m aware,’ Sarah said with a shrug. ‘And I’m not being funny, but not many people around here really know Nicky yet, let alone know she’s a nursery carer. If she comes to a WI meeting, I can introduce her to people and perhaps everyone can put the word about for her, but you know what she said – she earns top dollars at that nursery in London and … what is it, Ollie? Do you want to go outside? Go on, then, the cat flap isn’t locked.’

Sometimes, Charlie, I wish so badly that we could talk Human as well as being able to understand it. It can be so frustrating wanting to tell people something important, when all they can think of is our toilet requirements!

I waited till the next time I saw Daniel outside the cottage. It must have been a Saturday because he was carrying the rucksack he brought me home in that very first day, and was heading off towards the woods, whistling. He always did that when he went hunting for firewood. I think he enjoyed it, a bit like us hunting mice, but easier of course because humans are pathetic hunters.

‘Meow!’ I said to him. ‘Meow, meow, meow!’ I tried to make it sound as urgent as possible.

He stopped and looked at me. ‘What’s up, Ollie? Didn’t any of us give you your breakfast this morning?’

Honestly, if it isn’t our toilet requirements, it’s our stomachs. I suppose we should be grateful, but don’t they realise we do occasionally have thoughts that don’t concern our bodily functions?

‘MeOW!’ I shouted at him, and stalked down the road a few paces in front of him, twitching my tail and looking back to see if he’d got the message.

‘You want to come to the woods with me, boy?’ he said, still standing on the spot staring after me.

No, for mewing out loud, I’m going in the opposite direction, I thought with exasperation.

‘You want me to come with you?’

At last! Finally, he caught up with me and I bounded ahead to where the notice board stood outside the wreck of the village hall. I have to say, it took several frustrating minutes of walking round and round the posts supporting the notice board, several walks around Daniel’s legs and then back to rub my head against the posts again, before he started looking at the notices.

‘Domino team meetings, next venue TBA,’ he read out loud. ‘Pensioners’ afternoon tea at Barbara Griggs’s house. Cub Scouts’ cook-out in Clive and Beryl’s garden, please bring own sausages.’

Further down! I wanted to shout.

‘Mums-and-babies group – next meeting at Hayley’s house Tuesday 2pm, we will sing nursery rhymes, bring shakers. Shakers?’ he asked himself, looking puzzled. Then: ‘Child minding rota. As you know Kay’s nursery business is closing 31 December. Please add your availability and requirements. Oh yes. That’s what Sarah and Martin were telling us about. And what’s this? Louise and Dave Porter require kind, qualified person to care for Freya, three, and Henry, eighteen months, twenty hours per week, Monday to Friday mornings, payment by agreement. Apply to … Wow, Ollie. This might be right up Nicky’s street. Lucky I saw it, eh?’ He gave me a funny look then. ‘If it wasn’t a ridiculous thing to think, I could almost believe you knew this was here.’

He did actually try to tell Nicky it was because of me that he’d seen it, but she just laughed. Unfortunately, she also laughed when he told her what the notice had said, but it wasn’t the kind of laugh that sounded as if she was really amused. In fact she sounded quite snappy about it.

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Dan. Twenty hours a week, on local wages? How’s that supposed to be a good idea? We wouldn’t even be able to pay the rent, let alone feed ourselves.’

‘You wouldn’t have to pay train fares,’ he reminded her. ‘And I wouldn’t have to be worried sick about you getting exhausted from commuting, closer to when the baby’s due.’

‘Nobody’s asking you to worry about me,’ she said crossly. ‘Just go and find some firewood, please, Dan, and stop coming up with stupid ideas.’

He picked up his rucksack and went off towards the woods again, only this time he wasn’t whistling. And I slunk away to have a sleep in their kitchen, feeling sorry that I’d tried to help. Maybe I wasn’t as clever as I thought I was. The cat who saved Christmas? At the moment I just seemed to be the cat who caused arguments.

At least the atmosphere in Sarah and Martin’s house was more cheerful. On that same Saturday, the whole family went out in the car and came back laughing and excited, with a tree strapped to the car roof. Of course, from my Christmases at the pub, I knew straight away what it was, but Sarah must have thought I was a silly little inexperienced kitten like you, because she picked me up and cuddled me as Martin carried the tree inside, telling me not to worry, it wasn’t going to hurt me. I felt quite offended, but at the end of the day there was no point in passing up the opportunity for a nice cuddle.

‘Can we decorate it now, Daddy?’ Grace was shouting as she danced around the room. ‘Please, Daddy, can we…’

‘No. Let’s leave that for a few days, at least. It’s still far too soon – I don’t know why I let you talk me into buying one when it’s not even the first of December until Monday.’

‘Oh, Daddy, please! Now we’ve got it, can’t we put the decorations on?’ She was jumping up and down and going red in the face.

‘Calm down, Grace,’ Martin said. ‘I’ve said no.’ He gave Sarah a look, and nodded at Rose, who was sitting quietly on the sofa, just watching Martin trying to prop the tree up in its bucket.

‘Dad’s right,’ Sarah said. ‘It won’t hurt to wait a few more days for the decorations.’

‘Oh, Mum!’

‘You can both do it together, after Rose has her plaster off on Thursday,’ she said.

‘Oh.’ Grace looked at her sister. ‘Why? She can help me now, with her good arm, can’t she?’

‘That’s not very fair, is it? It’ll be much nicer if you can both do it together, and she’ll manage a whole lot better when she’s got both arms free.’

‘But you said they might not even take the plaster off when she goes to the hospital on Thursday,’ Grace said, crossly. ‘Then we’ll never be able to put the decorations up.’

‘We hope it will come off.’ Sarah sounded equally cross now. ‘But if it doesn’t, we’ll do the decorations on Thursday evening anyway, and I’ll help Rose so that she can join in properly.’

‘It’s not fair,’ Grace moaned.

‘And it’s not like you to be so selfish, Grace,’ Martin snapped at her. ‘Rose has had to put up with doing everything one-handed all these weeks and hasn’t complained about it. Think yourself lucky it wasn’t you that got hurt.’

‘I wouldn’t have been stupid enough to run into the road,’ Grace retorted – and then she went suddenly even redder, and put her paw over her mouth. ‘Sorry!’ she gabbled. ‘I didn’t mean it!’

But she was too late saying sorry, because Rose had burst into tears, and Sarah had put me down abruptly, got hold of Grace by the shoulders and marched her quite roughly out of the room.

‘Go upstairs and stay there until you’ve had time to think about what you just said,’ I heard her saying angrily. ‘I know you’re overexcited about the Christmas tree, but that was a really nasty thing to say to your sister. And to think you were the one sticking up for her when other children were being unkind.’

‘I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it!’ Grace was still saying through her sobs as she went upstairs. ‘I’m sorry, Rose,’ she called back from their bedroom.

But Rose was crying quietly on the sofa, and Martin was muttering to himself that if Grace carried on like that she wouldn’t get any Christmas presents. The whole day seemed spoilt.

I jumped up on Rose’s lap and snuggled up to her, giving her good paw a few licks of consolation.

‘I’m not stupid,’ she said in a little quiet voice as Sarah came back into the room. ‘I only ran into the road because I loved Sooty.’

‘Grace knows that really,’ Sarah told her, joining us on the sofa and putting an arm round Rose. ‘She was just being spiteful. She probably resents the extra attention Rose has had,’ she added quietly to Martin, who sighed and nodded.

When Rose had stopped crying, I jumped down and ran upstairs to see Grace. She was lying on her bed, looking like she’d cried even harder than Rose. Her face was swollen and blotchy and her eyes were all red.

‘Oh, Ollie!’ she said, picking me up and cuddling me. ‘I wish I hadn’t been so horrible. I don’t know what’s the matter with me. Am I turning into a horrible person?’

‘No!’ I mewed at her in Cat. I didn’t really know what else to say.

‘I do love Rose, and I actually think she was really, really brave to try to save Sooty,’ she said, her eyes starting to fill up with tears again. ‘She was just getting over it all, wasn’t she, and now I’ve gone and upset her all over again. How can I make it up to her?’

I didn’t have any answers. I just purred against her neck to show I understood.

She jumped up suddenly, wiping her eyes, opened the drawer in her bedside table and pulled out a little pink purse, which she unzipped and tipped upside down on the bed. Lots of brown coins, a few silver ones and one of those pieces of paper they call five pound notes fell out, and she started counting it all up.

‘I know what I’ll do,’ she said, sounding excited again. ‘I’ll use all my money to buy Rose a new cat of her own, to keep. She can call it Sooty again. That’ll make her happy, won’t it, Ollie?’

I nearly fell off the bed. A new cat? Another Sooty, a permanent member of the family, coming to live in my foster home? I’m sorry to say, Charlie, the selfishness problem must have been catching that day, because all I could think was What about me?