An Expensive Affection
Clara, again? Honestly, how much more of this? I feel like I work just to keep your cat living in luxury!
The cat, whom Clara was trying to coax into the carrier, wriggled free, landed with a thud on the hallway floor, and shot into the corner, letting out a mournful groan as if determined to sell his utterly useless life as dearly as he coulduseless, at least in Simons opinion.
It had been a long time since Clara had christened the cat with his literary nameBaxter. Or Baxy, as she affectionately called him, had been with her for about a decade. Clara still didnt know his exact age; shed found him on a cold London street, fully grown but not yet old, wrapped him in her old nursery blanket, and hurried him and her mother to the local vet.
Save him, please!
Where did you find this beast? The vet nurse grimaced, sizing Baxter up, He’s clearly a scrappy stray!
What does it matter what he is? Hes my cat! Cant you see hes poorly? Why hesitate? My money’s as good as anyones elses, isnt it? No less British pounds than those who walk in here with pedigrees!
At that, Claras mother, Mrs Natalie Carter, was so fierce and unyielding that the nurse decided not to quarrel, and rightly so.
Mrs Natalie Carter was notoriously stubborn. Life had made her so. Try bringing up a child alone, caring for two oldies, and all on a nursery teachers salary. If you didnt grow a backbone, youd snap in two!
She knew how to stand up for herself, but her strength was rooted in kindness. Natalie loved children, adored cats, and sometimes, despite a childhood fear, even held a soft spot for dogs.
She took nothing from anyonenot warring neighbours, not overbearing parents, nor strangers who mistook her gentle, solitary appearance for vulnerability. Yet she wielded her authority with a quiet force, never raising her voice but always finding the exact argument that made her adversary falter. More often than not, opponents found themselves confiding instead of quarrelling, pouring out grievances, sharing their hardshipsa skill Natalie never truly understood herself, except that she genuinely listened.
But, as is often the way, the gift worked one way only. She could connect with strangers but struggled at home. Her husband had run away just a week after their wedding. Her own mother mocked that he’d lasted so long.
It stung, but Natalie admitted, her mother had a point. With someone so clumsy with life, what family could be built? Her husbands parting words still stung:
Youre as much a woman as I am a ballet dancer!
Natalie was, of course, upset. But when she discovered, a few months later, she was expecting a babyand a daughter, no lessshe was appeased. Whatever her ex said, she was a woman, after all! Men dont give birth.
She longed for her daughter’s arrival more than shed ever anticipated any holiday or birthdaybig events were always in short supply in her quiet life.
Her own mother offered no support.
Why burden yourself, Natalie? Youre young and still pretty, with some kind of prospects. Why throw it away for a child? You’ll be living on beans and bread! Children are an expensive pleasure, Natalie, youll see.
Didnt we live like that?
Exactly! And what was good about it?
Natalie hesitated but, for once, rebelled deep down. The thought of not having a child suffocated her. How could she destroy what was already growing inside her? Not just the unborn child but the truth that she could be both a woman and a motherand someone was trying to take that away.
The final say came from Granny, who breezed into London one day, posh headscarf in place, and said:
Have the baby, Nat. Ill help!
But, Gran, what about Granddad? Hes on his own in the village!
He’ll cope, love. And if not, well bring him here.
She set a neat bundlea linen tea towel embroidered by Natalie for Grans birthdayon the table. Inside was more money than Natalie had ever seen.
Granddad sold the old family house, love. Theyre building up the roadland is worth a fortune now. What weve saved is here. It’s enough for a modest flat. The rest is up to you.
Natalies mother was furious.
So now you turn up out of the blue, after all your refusals. Hand her a silver platter! I begged you for help, but nonow you come swanning in, the hero?
Granny sent Natalie out and had long, quiet words with her daughter, but nothing convinced her. Natalies mother simply couldn’t accept her daughter getting what every mother wants in that situationhelp, support, and even a home.
Natalie, for her part, couldnt see what was so wrong. She hadnt done anything outrageous. Shed simply been left by her husband, through no fault but his own. Grannys words rang true: If the cart horse fails, both are to blame.
Gran found a four-bedroom flat. Old building, needed fixing up. But with a cheerful crew overseen by an unsmiling builder and Grans relentless supervision, it was made livable in two months. When Natalie finally tiptoed into her room and saw the cot, she burst into tears.
Dont cry, silly girl! Gran scolded, handing Natalie a hanky, Come onlet’s master your new kitchen!
Clara was born a little early, healthy and gentle, and Natalie, mindful of her own mother’s harshness, resolved never to repeat those mistakes.
Grans everyones favourite, obviouslybought the flat, helps with the little one! What am I? Not even allowed to see my granddaughter!
Nobodys stopping you, Mumjust, please, dont shout. Clara gets scared.
Scared! Shes a baby! She doesnt even know whats up or down yet. All because I raise my voice?
You dont raise your voiceyou shout, Natalie managed, holding back tears.
Her mother wouldnt listen.
See how you like it when your daughter talks to you like this!
She wont, Natalie said, suddenly calm.
Oh, she will! Upbringing is everything. I spoilt you, now I pay the priceall Natalie, Natalie! And this is what I get: a daughter who doesnt need her mother!
Thank you, Mum. Now I know exactly how not to behave. Thanks for that, really.
Her mother ranted, but Natalie was done listening. Her only thought was, Ill never be that kind of mum.
Easy to say, much harder to do.
Natalie wasnt even sure, most days, that she was parenting right. Clara wasnt difficult, but she had spiritknew exactly what she wanted.
Mummy, can I have a sweet?
Clara, after lunch.
Not even one?
No.
Okay, Mummy. But after lunch, can I have two sweets if I eat everything?
Natalie would laugh at her little negotiator and reward her. Little things build character.
Even Gran was wrapped around Claras finger.
Gran, dont scoldit gives you wrinkles, and youre beautiful! Sit here. And shed smooth out Grans frown with tiny fingers. Granny would melt, and Natalie would smile.
Eventually, they all found their rhythm. Natalie worked, Gran and Granddad (whod left the village, selling his last bits and bobs) watched Clara. Together, they managed.
Things got tough when Gran fell ill. Doctors gave no false hopes, but that didn’t matter; Natalie understood.
Gran, should we go to London for treatment?
No, darling. Ive had my life, but I worry about you and Granddaddont leave him alone!
At this time, Clara found Baxter.
On the day Baxter entered Natalies home, Clara disappeared. Shed left school, taken her usual path, then vanished. Her granddad, running to fetch her, missed her by minutes.
Every parent and pupil searched, even the elderly neighbours. But Clara found her way home, tear-streaked and heartbroken, clutching an almost lifeless cat.
Are you alright, darling? Are you hurt?
No! Mummy, its himhes hurt, not me!
So Natalie bundled the cat up and raced to the vet. Thankfully, the dog that attacked him hadnt done permanent damage. A few bites, battered but alive, and after some treatment and a hefty billenough to buy two pedigree kittens, muttered Natalieshe brought him home.
After pawing through her purse and counting the days until payday, Natalie saw she didnt have enoughnot with Baxter’s medicines, Grans prescriptions, and Claras birthday looming.
Mummy, can I ask something? Clara crept into the kitchen and hugged her.
Yes, love?
No presents this year, please… Can I keep him? Hell be my present.
Natalie hugged her fiercely, looking at the scruffy grey lump at her feet. Shed tried putting him in a box, but Baxter only wanted to be next to her, head planted on her slipper, purring away on the old fridge.
Of course, Clara kept him.
And, by some miracle, this ragged alley cat soon adapted to comfort. He caused no trouble and adored the elderly, especially Granny.
He changed their lives in strange ways.
After paying the vet, Natalie realised she’d had enough of scraping by. She finally quit her nursery jobtrembling with fear but determined. A friend recommended her as a nanny for a lovely family, and soon she was passed from one grateful employer to the next. Her pay grew steadily, and she became treasured everywhere she worked. Each night, at home, Natalie always scratched Baxters healed ear.
Thank you, old boyif not for you
Baxter would purr, pat her hand, and glance at Clara. He adored his older mistress but was devoted to the younger. He sat with her while she did her homework, a gentle paw holding down her workbook.
He was there when Clara sat outside Grannys door, weeping her goodbye, and again when Granddad, quietly, left them too.
When, at long last, Natalie met a good man who loved her for who she was, she finally marriedno more criticism, no more doubts. Her husband cherished her and even won over her mother by letting her drive his car every Sunday morning to the garden centre.
These days, Natalies mother glided out of her council flat, seedlings in hand, sighing to the neighbours, My son-in-laws picking me up. Off to the cottage!
Clara, now at college, stayed in her childhood home. Thats where she brought her boyfriend, Simon.
Wow, Clara, your place is massive!
Dont be daft!
So much space! Waitwhats that?!
A hissing, angry ball of fur shot out, making a beeline for Simon, who shrieked and hopped away as Baxter defended his territory.
Get him off me!
Clara calmed Baxter, but the relationship between her boyfriend and the cat remained chilly. Simon disliked the cat and shooed him at every turn when Clara wasnt watching. Still, after a year, Clara and Simon married.
Married life, though, brought new tensions. Simon was critical, echoing words that would have shocked Natalie.
What kind of woman are you, Clara? This isnt stewits coloured water! Cant cook, cant be a proper wife
Baxter soon became his next battle.
Whats wrong with your wretched cat? Simon couldn’t believe the vet bill. Youre mad! I dont spend this much on myself. Hes just a ball of fluff!
Hes more than fluffhes family!
Not my family! Ill throw him out myself if this happens again!
Clara, who had just discovered she was pregnant that morning, decided to hold her tongue. Shed talk to him later.
But Baxter, old and frail by then, had another accident with his litter box by morning, and Clara set about getting him ready for another vet visit. Thats how Simon found her mid-task.
Simon was obsessed with his health. Early runs, check, ticking off his vitamins, constantly reminding Clara of the importance of taking care of oneself. Hearing Baxter needed more treatment, he, in a rage, threw one of his trainers at the wall.
Thats enough! Im not wasting another penny on that useless creature! Outout of my house!
Then Im going too, Clara replied, not her usual calm self.
Go then! Im done! Why should I put up with this?
At that moment, something shifted irreparably between Clara and Simon. She realised she didnt want to raise a child in this life.
She didnt say a worddidnt mention it was her flat, that she couldnt be thrown out along with her faithful cat. She just picked up Simons jacket, fished out his keys, placed them in his hand.
Im pregnant. I cant stand stress. Baxter, at least, understands. You dont. Go, Simon, please. When youve calmed down, well talk. But I wont live with you anymore. If you can discard someone whos been with me almost my whole life, what will you do when you tire of me? My feelings arent your concern, are they? We had many good times, and Im grateful, but now theres too much bad, and that doesnt belong. So, please, go. Collect your things later. Ive got to take Baxter to the vethes my responsibility.
Simon didnt argue. He shoved his car keys and windcheater angrily into his bag and slammed the door behind him.
Clara knew that he hadnt even registered her pregnancy. In his mind, all that mattered was getting rid of Baxter.
She set down the carrier, waited for Baxter to climb in unprotested, and smiled, Ready, old man? Lets get you fixed up. Its time for some changes.
Baxter recovered. Age would catch up, and Clara would need the carrier often, but soon her daughter would be allowed to tug on his fluffy tailher daintiest privilege.
Claras daughter would have no better guardian, one able to send her into fits of giggles and drift her into sleep wrapped in a furry embrace. Shed be so like her grandma that Clara would almost name her Natalie, but her mother would gently counsel her.
Talk to Simon. Shes your child together, no matter whats happened. It wont be easy, but for her sake, do things right.
And Clara, surprising even herself, would listen.
Youve shown a lot of wisdom, Clara, Simon would say, subdued.
Maybe Ive grown. Sowhat do you say?
Thank you, for not letting pride come before our child. Ill do my part.
And Simon would. Little Alice would live between two homestwo cots, two favourite bunnies, one at Mums, one at Dads. Shed have Granny Natalie and Nanny Val. But love would be all around, and Alice, swimming in it, would know that these grown-ups who love her must love each other, at least a bit.
And someday, Alice would teach this simple truth to every grown-up, just as her own mother, once a little girl herself, had once done. Only old Baxter, knowing the secret of Alices heart, would ever hold back the truthnot because he couldnt speak, but because everyone who mattered already understood.
If a mother cat is loving, her kittens always are too.
And little Alice would grow up surrounded by such affection, and one day, shed lean over the cot, stroke the cheek of her own little one exactly as her mother and grandmothers had done, and softly say,
Hello, my babyIve been waiting so long to meet youAnd when Baxter, finally, grew too tired for even the gentlest games, Clara found little Alice curled beside him in a patch of sunlight, both breathing soft and deep, a tiny hand on his faded fur. Later, as the world stilled, Clara sat with her mother at the kitchen table, the hush of their home at once heavy and precious. In the silence, Natalie reached across and squeezed her daughter’s handnot in comfort, but in gratitude.
They all mourned the old tom in their own way. Alice carried a whisker in a secret pocket, Simon tenderly packed away the battered toys Baxter had shredded, and Natalie planted lavender above a smooth stone in the garden so the bees would keep him company. Each spring, purple scented the air beside the kitchen window, and Clara swore she heard the familar contented purring whenever Alice laughed.
Life moved, as it must, tumbling forward with school runs and birthday cakes, heartbreaks and new loves. But, always, on quiet evenings after a storm, Clara would see Alice curled on the worn sofa, a blanket tucked close and a storybook openher voice inventing wild adventures for a magical gray cat who never grew old, who guarded dreams and chased monsters from under beds.
And in those moments, with the lamp glowing low and love spilling through the old flat, Clara would close her eyes and know that Baxter had left them not with sorrow, but with every kind of affection that cannot be bought for any price, and that lives onexpensive, extraordinary, everlastingin the hearts they dared to hold open.
