Whiskers
Lucy, are you out of your mind? The warden will have your head for this!
Dont be such a worrywart, Margaret! Where am I supposed to leave him? Throw him out? Hes alive, and its a shame to just leave him to freeze!
He may be alive, but you might not be if you get caught hiding him, Margaret replied, her brows raised in disbelief.
Come on, Maggie, dearest, dont be like that! Hes not a tiger, just a kitten. Let him live with us for a little while, please?
Margaret laughed, petting the orange tuft on the kittens tiny head. Stop trying to convince me! You think I dont pity him? Where did you find this poor thing? Hes all skin and bones! He probably isnt even wellcant even hold his head up. What a treasure!
Lets go! Lucy grabbed the long scarf Margaret knitted and wrapped it around their little find. My shift ended today, so I cut through the park. He was on the pathmaybe he crawled out from the bushes or someone dropped him right there. He was nearly buried in snow. I wouldnt have spotted him if not for his ginger coat. I picked him up and he was ice-cold, didnt seem to be breathing. But then I realisedhe was alive. I just grabbed him and ran the whole way back to the dorm. Lucy giggled, pouring milk into an enamel mug to warm it. Mrs. Wilkinson saw me dashing past. You should have seen her faceher mouth wide open.
Then you can be sure shell come knocking soon. Oh, Lucy, youll be in hot water for this! Remember how she went off at Liz when she brought in a cat? Nearly threw her out. She loves her rulesno pets in residence.
Maggie, you wont turn me in, will you? Lucy glanced anxiously over her shoulder as she left. If she comes by while Im out, just hide him. Ill only warm the milk and be right back.
Go on, then! Margaret scooped up the scarf and kitten, tossed her knitting out of her basket, and tucked him in. Ive seen nothing, I know nothing, and Ill say nothing! she sang, closing the basket lid with a wink. Go! Dont be scared!
After Lucy left, Margaret peeked in at the kitten and shook her head. Arent we the lucky ones, eh? Ginger rascal Keep breathing, little chap! Lucys a soft soul, shell cry for days if anything happens to you. Not that Id want that.
The kitten said nothing. He barely breathed, eyes closed tight, ignoring Margarets words.
Soon, dusk swept into the room. Shadows crept in, and Margaret hesitated to turn on the light. She liked this time of eveningthe whole night ahead. Unlike late shifts, when youd come home and it was straight to bed. Now she could read, have a long chat with Lucy, maybe find out how things were with Michael. Margaret sighed. Lucy was luckyshe had a boyfriend, hed even proposed. Margaret had no one, and frankly, whod want hera beanpole? Lucy was petite and dainty, hair to her waist, with sea-blue eyesa beauty. As for Margaret? Built like a rugby prop, as her gran used to say, after watching her restore order among her three lively younger brothers. Theyd all grown up now; even the eldest had married a lovely girl. Margaret had just attended their wedding in her old village. Yet she herself was still alonetoo tall and sturdy for most London lads. Maybe those letters from gran urging her to move back home were right, but what then? No decent work, just the farm, and she studied for a reason. Here at the textile mill, she was someone. They even gave her a holiday voucher. Margaret shook off her gloomplenty of time for marriage yet! Theres no way someone wont come along, surely.
Lucy came back, hunting for a dropper to feed the kittenhe couldnt lap from a saucer, just nuzzled weakly with his nose. Watching Lucy, near tears, trying to feed him, Margaret set her book aside and took charge of the ginger waif.
Let me try!
She filled the dropper, tipped the kittens head back, opened his mouth, and gave a stern hissCome on now, eat up! Lucy didnt rescue you just for you to starve to death!
The kitten spluttered and coughed, but he ate.
They called him Whiskers. Mrs. Wilkinson didnt discover his presence for almost a yearnot until one evening she spotted a ginger blur slip through the open ground-floor window from the garden.
What on earth is that?!
Her shriek set the whole dorm in a flutter.
Oh please, Mrs. Wilkinson! You never knew we had a cat! Hes wonderfulkeeps the mice at bay!
What mice? We havent got any mice! This is an exemplary residence!
Margaret, standing tall with folded arms, glanced at the warden, nudging Whiskers back with her foot. Oh, weve got exemplary mice too! Fat, well-fed ones. Whiskers lines them up by my bed most mornings. Ill show you the next timeno need for just us to be proud of his hunting. We could even invite the factory manager to admire his work.
Margaret, youre pushing your luck. Mrs. Wilkinson lowered her tone and turned to Lucy. Was this your idea? And when you marry, what will happen to him? Will you take him with you?
Im not sure, Lucy cradled the cat. He loves me, I think, but hes chosen Margaret as his human for some reason. Hed miss her
Oh, come on, Mrs. Wilkinson suddenly laughed at Lucys worried face. You make him sound like a husband. Lucy, hes a cat! Hes happy wherever he gets fed.
Dont say that, Lucy pouted, Ive tried everything but he only cuddles with Margaret. She handed the cat to Margaret and hugged the warden. So, can we keep him?
You fox! Mrs. Wilkinson shook her head and wagged a finger. Not a whisker or a peep out of him! Got it? Or both you and I will be out on the street, and rightly so.
Lucys wedding was celebrated in proper style, leaving Margaret alone with Whiskers. The days dragged slower, gloomier now. Mrs. Wilkinson didnt rush to assign her a new roommatethe old residence was in its final days. The girls were all hoping for new rooms when the modern dormitory finished constructionif the builders ever stopped starting and stopping. On weekends, Margaret and the others helped on site, wandering the echoing corridors and imagining life there. On one such day, she stumbled into whom she thought might be her own destiny.
Andrew, like her, wasnt from London. The youngest of his family, hed stayed to look after his parents, but after their passing, he moved to the city. He had no house, nothing to his name, but life was far more lively now. There were plenty of girls, but Andrew was hunting for a wifewith a dowry, a flat would be ideal, and someone to help out as well. Margaret fit none of these boxes, but after she looked down at him from her six-foot frame and swept by, Andrew couldnt look away.
His awkward advances amused Margaret at first.
Oh good heavens, what would I do with him? Id have to pat him on the head like a childhes a whole head shorter than me! Where would I even start? she laughed, sharing the tale with Lucy when she came by.
Oh, Margaret! Does height matter so much? What about the man himself?
I dont know. Margaret would grow serious, eyes down. I honestly dont know, Lucy.
Shed watch Lucy struggle to get up and head home, pausing to stroke Whiskers as he sprawled on the bed, pawing her baby bump.
Is it tough?
Not really. It just feels strange, like waiting at Kings Cross for a train to a wonderful place. Youre just wishing it would finally arrive, Lucy smiled, accepting some honey from Margaret, hugging her, and waving to the cat. Goodbye, Whiskers. Look after her for me!
Maybe it was Lucys pregnancy, or Margarets long loneliness, but soon enough Andrew became a regular visitor. Whiskers disliked him instantlyhed hiss, arching his back at Andrews arrival, then leap onto the window sill, tail lashing, always ready to spring. Margaret would open the window and send Whiskers out, knowing hed return in the night, sulking in the corner, refusing affection or food. She just didnt get it.
Is he jealous? she wondered aloud to Mrs. Wilkinson, whod begun letting Whiskers visit her on Andrews evenings.
Maybe. Or maybe he senses something. Be careful with that one, Margaret. Some men flirt and ditch at the first sign of trouble. Think about itwhat will you do if he leaves?
Please, Mrs. Wilkinson, hes not like that. I trust him.
Oh, girl Mrs. Wilkinson would sigh, but dropped the subject. Its your life.
In the end, both Whiskers and the warden were right.
At first, Margaret paid no mind to her morning sickness. She chalked it up to sour milk or tinned mushrooms Lucy sent over. But after a fortnight, the symptoms werent fading. Hungry and tired all the time, she finally ran into Lucynow pushing a pramand confided her worries.
Margaret! How did this happen? Lucy clapped a hand to her head. How far along are you? Have you told him?
Margaret stood there, stunned, her mind whirring blankly, Lucys words distantshe could almost hear Mrs. Wilkinsons faint voice:
Oh, girl think carefully
That low, barely-there echo cleared her head. She shook herself, told Lucy not to fuss, and hurried home to tell Andrew. Single life was overit was time to plan for the future.
Only, it turned out that future would be hers alone.
Sorry, Margaret. I cant. How do I know its even mine? Im not interested. Andrew shoved the cat aside when Whiskers lunged at him and kicked with all his might. Get away!
Whiskers twisted, managing to clamp onto Andrews leg anyway, and the yell that burst from him made Margaret, for the first time, smirk.
Leave it, Whiskers! Hes not worth it. We dont need that sort of rotter under our roof. Let him go.
Long after Andrew slammed the door, Margaret sat rigid in her chair. Whiskers circled her legs, keen for attention, and finally jumped into her lapwhich was rarely allowedand huddled there, purring quietly until Margaret gently pushed him off.
Thats enough moping. Tea time, I say. Fancy a cuppa.
She registered her son alone, giving the registrar a steely look as she filled out the birth certificate.
He has no father. Never did. Hes got a mum. Isnt that enough?
Lucy brought gifts, Mrs. Wilkinson hunted down a proper pram through her own network, and even stormed the managers office at the mill multiple times, demanding a better room for Margaret. But construction at the new dorm stalled again, and he only shook his head:
I wish I could. For now, stay put and well see what comes up.
The old room stayed draughty, no matter how often Margaret plugged the gaps. She didnt shoo Whiskers from her sons sideoddly, the cat decided this little noisy bundle was his charge now. Cuddling alongside him, the baby quieted, soothed by the warmth of his ginger nurse. Margaret watched their strange bond with a smile and always scraped something tasty from her limited funds for Whiskers, though times were tight. Without her brothers help, shed have been lost. Andrew disappeared from London, thankfully. Margaret had no wish ever to see him again. She locked away her memories, keeping only the besttheir son.
Her family turned out en masse when she came home from the hospital.
What a chunky lad! Proper little bruisertakes after you, Marg! The relief threatened to bring Margaret to tearsa rare sight for anyone. Not a word or glance of reproach among them. Her eldest brothers wife hugged her in the kitchen, whispering:
You did right to keep him. You wont be alone now. A good man will come along, trust me, theyre not all cads. And dont worry about a thingwell help, whatever you need. Well raise him together, never doubt it.
And true to their word, her brothers called in every other week, arms loaded with treats for Margaret and her son. Margaret would unpack the hampers with quiet tearshow little a person truly needs, she thought. Just to know youre not alone, that someone loves you, will always have your back, and will welcome your child as their own if youre gone. At those moments, Margaret chastened herself for her tears, but felt grateful to not be alone.
Nursery proved a real trial for Johnny. He was ill often, leaving Margaret stretched thin between work and home. If not for Mrs. Wilkinson and Lucy, shed have given up and gone back to the village. But the idea of crowding her brothers young family stayed her, for as long as possible.
Sitting by Johnnys cot as he stretched out feverish, Margaret couldnt help recalling her failed romance and wondered whether anyone was actually lucky enough to find a good mansomeone who would truly stand by you. She understood exactly what she needed now; no more sweet nothings like Andrew. She dreamed instead of a man whod quietly make her tea, shoo her off to bed, and say:
Go onIll mind the little one.
Who might take them to the zoo at weekends, buy Johnny a balloon, praise her stew and cutlets, and finally put up the shelf that had been collecting dust for months. Someone whod always be there. That, she thought, is all the family shed ever need.
Sleep would claim Margaret slumped over the table beside her sons cot, worry and fatigue overrun at last.
It was during one of those weary nights that everything changed, the story of Margarets life finally weaving to some hope of a happy ending.
It was Johnnys third day with a fever; the temperature wouldnt budge. Margaret was frantic, doing all she could. The doctor, a kind lady from next door, came daily even uncalled, examining Johnny and shaking her head.
Nothing new I can tell youyoure doing all the right things. His system is strong, lets give it time.
Margaret barely put Johnny down; he clung to her, dozing between fits of crying, rubbing his sore ear. Mrs. Wilkinson arrived one evening with a saucepan of fresh soup and pressed her cheek to Johnnys damp brow.
Hes burning up!
I cant get the fever down, no matter what I try.
Maybe thats a good thing, Mrs. Wilkinson said, making a round and round the garden on Johnnys palm. Means hes fighting; at least thats what the doctor says.
I know. But its no comfort watching him in pain, Margaret sighed.
Hell come through. But if you wear yourself ragged, youll be of no use to him. Eat and get some rest. Things always look up in the morning.
Margaret nodded, started preparing a compress for Johnny, and Mrs. Wilkinson quietly left.
Whiskers, nestled by the baby, swished his tail, keeping Johnny occupied. Once the little one finally nodded off, Margaret hesitated over whether to disturb him for the compress. Deciding against it, she touched the cool soup pot, grabbed it, and made for the kitchen to warm it up. Shed just got to the stove when a loud smash followed by Johnnys crying had her racing back.
Throwing open the door, she froze in horror. Then, grabbing a low stool, she rushed in.
A huge rat fought tooth and claw in the room. Whiskers darted around it, a ginger blur, despite the wounds already sufferedone ear torn badly, bloody scratches down his flank. Margaret raised the stool, but Whiskers leapt, clamping his jaws on the rats throat. No matter how she tried, she couldnt get him off his target.
Whiskers, dear boy, thats enough! Youve won!
Whiskers gave a weak, childish sob and let go, crawling to the cot, where Johnny wailed. Margaret snatched up her son and almost faintedthere, in the cot, was a second rat, smaller but still monstrous. Snatching Johnny up, she flung open the door and yelled down the corridor:
Help!
Within the hour, clutching her son in blankets, Margaret had fled to Mrs. Wilkinsons. The warden handed her keys to her flat and promised to watch Whiskers.
What a disgrace! Rats, in this day and age! We only just finished the last pest control round! Mrs. Wilkinson seethed, always proud of her spotless residence. But she could do nothing about the crumbling old building.
After tidying up Margarets flat, she took Whiskers into the wardens office, tending his wounds.
Youre a hero, Whiskers! I knew I did right keeping you. Not many cats like you around.
Whiskers just lay there, breathing heavily, not even licking at his wounds. He wouldnt eat, and Mrs. Wilkinson frowned, knowing this was bad. After her shift, she went home and told Margaret straight.
Can you watch Johnny? Margaret rushed about, gathering her things. Where do I take him? Wheres the nearest vet?
Just the thing, Margaret! Theres a clinic two streets downask for help there. Go, quickly!
Margaret nearly ran, racing across to the old dorm. Whiskers lay outstretched on her rug, barely breathing.
Whiskers! Hold on, just hold on!
She managed to get to the surgery, pushing past a young nurse in a white coat. I need the vet! The best youve got. Now!
The girl hesitated, but after a look at Margarets face, just nodded and pointed to a bench along the wall.
Margaret clutched Whiskers, counting every shallow breath, nearly storming the back when the door finally opened. A giant of a man ducked through, careful not to bang his head on the frame.
Whats the trouble? His deep voice startled Margaret into silence. Eventually, snapping out of it, she held Whiskers out.
Here
Who did this to him? The vet handled Whiskers easily, examining the cats many wounds.
Rats.
He doesnt look like a stray. Well looked-after, in fact.
Hes mine.
How did he find rats then? Does he go outside?
No, it happened in my room.
Incredible.
Will you just stop with the questions and help him! Please, do somethinghe saved my son! Margarets words spilled out with angry tears, Whiskers weak and limp in the vets huge hands.
No need to shout. Im Dr. Thomas. And you are?
Margaret.
Right, pleased to meet you. For future reference, no shouting. I much prefer a gentle chat. Dr. Thomas smiled then. Well help your hero, dont worry.
And years later, the big ginger cat would stroll into the childrens room on quiet pads, inspect every nook, then hop into the cot by the sofa, where Johnny would be fast asleep. Little Alice, feeling fluffy warmth beside her, would turn in her sleep and tangle her fingers in Whiskers thick fur. Hed purr softly, telling stories only cats know, and Alice would sleep soundly, not stirring even as her parents stepped into the room. Margaret would tuck the blanket around Johnny, slip a fallen sock back onto Alice, and lean on Thomass shoulder.
Best nanny in the county, eh, Tom?
Couldnt ask for better. Tom would scritch behind Whiskers once-injured ear. Good thing you shouted at me that day. And good thing I worked on him for three days straightcats like him are worth their weight in gold.
Hes gold already, Margaret would reply. See? He glows.
Whiskers would nuzzle her hand before stretching out to hug Alice with one gentle paw. Margaret would turn off the nightlight, beckon her husband to bed, and gently close the door on her sleeping children. And her little ones never feared the darknot with Whiskers curled up beside them. With him there, nothing bad could ever happen.
