Oh, I cant stand it anymore! Honestly! I eat the wrong way, I dress the wrong wayapparently, I even breathe the wrong way! Georges voice hopped from grumble to outright yell.
Youre hopeless! wailed Emily, You never bring home enough money, proper money, mind you The house might as well clean itself for all the help you give! And her voice turned watery, We dont even have any children… she muttered, barely audible.
Alfie, their white-and-ginger moggy pushing eleven, was perched atop the wardrobe observing yet another front-room tragedy with her usual feline poise. Alfie knewfelt, eventhat Dad and Mum most definitely loved each other, and properly so. Which made it all the more baffling why they had to hurl about words so prickly, they made everyone in the house miserable.
Mother dashed off to the bedroom in tears, and Father took up chain-smoking by the kitchen window, an ashtray rapidly turning into a small volcano.
Alfie pondered, whiskers twitching. It was obvioushappiness in a home equals children; happiness is children. Children must be obtained somehow.
As for Alfie herself, kittens were out of the questionshed been sorted at the vet years ago. As for Mum… well, the doctors said perhaps, but reality had other plans.
The next morning, once Mum and Dad bustled off to work (neither speaking over tea), Alfie did something outrageously bold for a cat of such dignified years: she squeezed through the top window and padded over to the neighbours flat to have a word with Tabbyher mate across the landing.
Children? Really? Why on earth would you want kids? Tabby spluttered. Ours come round and I go straight under the bedlipstick on my whiskers, hugged half to death
Alfie sighed. We want normal children, the sort you wouldnt hide from. If only there were some about.
Well Tabby mused, That stray Molly from the next block over, shes just had a litter. Five of em, untouched and looking for trouble.
Alfie, braver than usual, scrambled from balcony to balcony till she reached the street below. Shaking from tail to ears, she squeezed through the iron railings to the basement window and called softly, Molly, could I have a word, just a sec?
A desperate chorus of squeaks echoed from deep inside. Creeping forward on cautious paws, Alfie could just make out five scruffy, blind kittens huddled under a radiator, chirping for a mother who hadnt visited in at least three days.
Nostrils twitching with emotion, Alfie gingerly carried each kitten upstairs, one by one, to the front stoop.
Lying beside her wailing orphans, casting anxious glances down the road, Alfie waited and waited for her peopleDad and Mumto come home.
George and Emily approached the house, both world-weary, and stopped dead at the sight: there was Alfie, our distinguished homebody, sprawled right across the doorstep, surrounded by five mewling, multi-coloured furballs, all jostling for a chance at a milk bar that no longer existed.
What on earth? George stammered.
Its a miracle Emily whispered, before scooping up cats big and small and dashing inside.
Dumping kittens in a cardboard box, they watched Alfiemotherly though physically retiredpurr contentedly amongst the little lot. George ventured, Er what exactly are we supposed to do…?
Emily sighed, Ill bottle feed them Once theyre bigger, we can find homes. Ill ring Hannah, Sue and the rest
Three months later, Emily, utterly shell-shocked, sat stroking her feline pack. Staring at absolutely nothing, she kept half-whispering to herself: Things like this just dont happen. Honestly, they dont
Then, without warning, she and George ended up laughing and crying at once, spinning each other around the kitchen, babbling on top of one another:
I knew building this house was worth it!
The fresh air will be wonderful for a little one
Lets let all the kittens run round the garden!
Theres room for everyone
I love you!
I love you more!
And wise old Alfie, brushing a tear from her nose with a paw, reflectedlife, it seems, is working out after all.
