Читать книгу Alfie the Holiday Cat - Rachel Wells - Страница 11

I was woken by George tickling my head with his tail yet again. I had opted to sleep on Claire’s bed, which was pretty comfortable, and also, I liked being near her when it was the two of us. I guess I felt that, without Jonathan around, I was her protector, the way I was when we first met. Claire was my first human on Edgar Road. She moved there after getting divorced and she was very sad when I first met her. I was lonely, she was lonely, it was as if we were meant to be together. She cried a lot and I comforted her, which in turn comforted me. We have an unshakeable bond and I love all my humans, I really do, but Claire will always have an extra special place in my heart. In a way it was meeting her that led me to meeting my other families, and then in turn I led Claire to them too.

It took me a moment to remember where I was, before I realised that we were by the sea. On our holiday, in our home which, if all went to plan, would be our holiday home. I leapt up excitedly. Claire opened her eyes.

‘Hey, boys, are the children awake?’ she asked, just as Toby and Summer came running in.

‘Mummy, Mummy,’ Summer shrieked, jumping on Claire and as Claire laughed, Toby climbed next to her and hugged her.

‘Did you sleep well, Tobes?’ she asked, stroking his hair.

‘I did, Mummy, George kept me warm,’ he said and I looked at George, proudly. I saw the sun streaming in through a small gap in the curtains and I couldn’t wait to see the sea again.

‘Right then, who wants some breakfast?’ Claire said, moving the covers and getting up.

‘Me, me, me,’ Summer chanted, jumping on the bed, sending me up and down with her.

‘Meow,’ George said loudly. Claire laughed.

‘Right, children and cats, let’s get you fed.’

It was so nice, us all being together, I thought; the kitchen was full of chatter and laughter. Yes, I missed the men but I could see this house, or cottage, or whatever it was supposed to be called, working already. Franceska was making a cooked breakfast, Claire was making coffee and Polly was organising the children around the table.

‘Mum, can I help?’ Aleksy said, as he joined his mum by the stove, which worked but had definitely seen better days. It looked a bit like the stove that my first owner Margaret had and I knew that that was very old.

‘Yes, darling, you can be in charge of toast.’ Luckily we had a new toaster.

‘And I’ll help you, Aleksy,’ Tommy said. Everyone was getting on harmoniously. It seemed that Lynstow, Seabreeze Cottage and the sea air were having a magical effect on us already. The children generally got on well but they also bickered a fair bit too. But not today.

‘Toby, do you want to play snap?’ Henry asked. Toby and Henry were of similar age, and Henry had been so sensitive in befriending Toby that he had made me proud. They were great friends, although it was more like Henry was his protector, because Toby needed it. Toby had made great progress since being with us, but he was still scarred and vulnerable and we all had to be mindful of that.

But all my children were wonderful and I had done a good job with them, if I did say so myself. Aleksy, who was the oldest at nearly eleven, looked after them all and Tommy who was a bit younger, but actually almost as big, did too. In fact, all my children looked after each other. The older boys definitely looked out for the younger ones, and Summer and Martha as the youngest were taken care of by all. Honestly, no one would ever hurt those girls! Jonathan joked that if they ever dared get a boyfriend, the other boys would definitely scare them off! But it filled my heart to see how our families had grown and bonded, and really the idea of us all being together like this for our holidays was a dream come true.

‘What are the plans for today?’ Aleksy asked, as he spooned up a forkful of beans. I was sitting on his lap, hidden from view because the humans didn’t like us being so close to food, but anyway, apart from the egg, I wasn’t that keen on his breakfast anyway. George was sitting at Summer’s feet. She used to throw her yoghurt and George developed quite a taste for it. Although she didn’t really do that any more, he still lived in hope.

‘Well I thought we would all go to the beach. We’ll take a blanket for us adults and you children can take buckets and spades and just enjoy the sand.’

‘Can we go in the water?’ Tommy asked.

‘If the tide’s in, but it might be cold,’ Franceska said, reasonably. It was sunny, we could see that, but also it looked as if there was a bit of a breeze as the trees in the garden swayed gently.

‘Anyway, we’re only across the road if we need anything from home,’ Claire pointed out. ‘Pol, we’ll pop back for lunch and to see how it’s going.’

‘Of course, can’t wait to get them working,’ Polly said, referring to the builders who were due to arrive shortly. ‘Right, Henry, Martha, you be good for Claire and Franceska.’ They both nodded.

Last night, after the children had gone to bed, Claire, Franceska, Polly and I had sat around the kitchen table, discussing plans for the house and drinking wine. Well I’d actually lain on the table, and dozed while half listening to them. Polly had already hired the builders, and they had done some of the work before we arrived – although, as the cottage looked as if it needed a lot more, I wasn’t sure what. But anyway, they were now going to be working under Polly’s supervision.

First job was to get the utility room knocked through to the back door so the sandy children could be contained. It had now been christened the ‘sand room’. Apart from that, the main job they were starting on was the attic that I hadn’t seen. They were going to turn the space, which was apparently huge, into two bedrooms and a bathroom, which would be the children’s floor. The idea was that the boys could sleep up there in one room, the girls in another and a bathroom would adjoin the two rooms. They were keen to get that done so the children had their space first. Being a parent myself now, I was learning that parents were like that – always putting the children first. I knew from ‘discussions’ with the men that the house wasn’t being done up extravagantly but Polly knew how to get the best without paying the earth, and they had persuaded the men that if it was worth doing it was worth doing as well as they could. Basically it was costing a lot of money, but at the same time it would definitely be worth more than it was now by the time they finished. It made economic sense, Claire kept saying, but I had no idea what that meant. I just hoped that it was a bit brighter and more comfortable when they finished. All this cat needed from his holiday home.

However, they were all confident that at the end they would have a gorgeous second home and I know Claire spoke dreamily of the children all holidaying here with their families one day. Cynical Jonathan muttered often that it would be sold at some point but I knew when he came here again with the children and saw how much we loved it he’d fall in love too. Anyway, I digress. I watched as the breakfast dishes were cleared away, and then when George went to play with the children, I cleaned myself up and got ready for our day.

We had been out for a runaround and seen the children off for their trip to the beach but I’d had to restrain George once again. He was so eager to go but I’d told him we needed to check it out together, to make sure it was safe for cats. After all, I could see that water was involved, so we needed to be cautious. And Claire hadn’t suggested taking us so I didn’t want to take any chances.

‘George, we’ll go a bit later so we can check it out properly,’ I said sensibly.

‘But I want to go now,’ George persisted.

‘George, be a good kitten, we can’t just do what we want, you know that. Anyway, I promise if you are good today I will take you later.’

‘OK,’ he conceded but he didn’t really like having to give in.

I was just about to lead George back in the house when a van pulled up outside. A stocky man got out and made his way towards us.

‘Well hello,’ he said, bending down to stroke us both. We both purred and nuzzled into him. He was big and burly, with not much hair. The front door opened and Polly emerged clutching a mug.

‘Hey, Colin, nice to see you,’ she said. She was wearing flip-flops, her hair was tied back and she was smiling broadly. Polly was beautiful, she used to be a model, and I saw Colin’s eyes light up at the sight of her. She had that effect on people.

‘Alright, Mrs, I mean Polly. How are you?’ he said, striding towards her. We trotted along after him.

‘Good, although chaotic. Right, come in and we’ll go through the plans again. When are your men getting here? We really are on a tight schedule.’ Her forehead wrinkled in worry.

‘I’ve got three lads and the big van on the way, don’t you worry.’ He was cheerful with an accent I hadn’t heard before, but it was nice and friendly; a Devon accent maybe?

We followed them as they headed to the kitchen where Polly showed him what she wanted doing with the utility.

‘That won’t be a problem. I see what you mean, you want to knock through so you come in the back, straight in there, and don’t get a desert of sand in the house.’

‘Exactly. We’ve got six children, as well as the two cats, it can get messy.’

‘So, you’ll be using the cottage a lot then?’ Colin scratched his head.

‘Yes, that’s the plan. As there are three families there’ll be someone in the cottage most of the year I expect. I mean, holidays definitely but also weekends – we want to use it, not just have it empty most of the year. We want it to be a home.’

‘That’s good, Seabreeze needs some love, that’s for sure,’ Colin said.

‘It’d be good to get the downstairs toilet cordoned off.’ It was in the utility space but there was no door on it.

‘Right you are.’ He seemed agreeable. ‘We won’t order a new toilet until we order the rest of the bathrooms though, to keep costs down.’

‘That’s fine, if we can get a door that’ll do for now.’ Polly beamed. She was in her element. Since going to study interior design when the children reached a certain age, Polly had bloomed. She’d been modelling before she had Henry, and then she’d been a full-time mum to him and Martha. When she first arrived on Edgar Road, Henry was a baby and Polly was suffering from post-natal depression. It had taken a while but she’d recovered, thankfully. Last year, when Matt was made redundant from his job, Polly had thrown herself into interior design work. She had worked long hours in that job, it’d been difficult for both her and Matt, but now she freelanced, which meant she got to pick and choose her jobs a bit more carefully and, although she had some work to do, she was able to do most of it while sorting out the cottage, which was definitely lucky.

I felt exhausted as I followed them round, listening again to what was going to be done. It was another good thing about being a cat, we got to live in houses (well the lucky ones did) without having to worry about all this.

‘Right, well when the lads get here we’ll get stuck in. It might be best if the kids stay out of the way, and the cats,’ he said, pointing at George and me. ‘We don’t have hard hats to fit cats.’ He laughed at his joke, although I didn’t get it.

‘Don’t worry, the children will be out as long as this weather stays, and the cats are very clever,’ Polly said, picking George up.

‘Fingers crossed the rain stays off,’ Colin said.

Yes, paws crossed. If we had to stay out of the way at least the sun should be shining for us.

Shortly after that, a larger van pulled up. It blocked all our cars in, not that we needed them, and three men, younger than Colin, each with more hair, jumped out. Suddenly there was a lot of noise and bustle. It was clear we would be better out of the way. I looked at George, and thought perhaps we could risk checking the beach out now.

‘Remember, George, don’t leave my side and be very vigilant,’ I said as we slid under the gate.

‘Yes, Dad, of course,’ he replied. His fur was bristling with excitement, I could see how much this meant to him. We stood on the pavement, there were cars driving slowly past, as the road was quite narrow, and there were lots of cars parked on the road opposite. When it was safe we crossed. We both jumped up onto a wall and looked out onto the beach.

Wow, I had never seen anything like it. There was a lot of flat sand, but also these sandy hills which looked like a lot of fun. The sand was yellow in colour, there was grass poking out of the hills, and in the distance I could see the water but it looked as if it was miles away.

However, before we could go further I spotted a real danger.

‘Oh, George, look, there’s a dog,’ I yelled, moving closer to my boy protectively. I saw a solitary dog running around in circles nearby. How annoying, the whole beach could have been ours but a dog was going to ruin it. However, just as I was going to get George and run back to the cottage, a man came up to the owner.

‘I’m afraid dogs aren’t allowed on the beach during the summer months,’ he said, pointing at a sign post behind us.

‘But Trevor loves the beach,’ the owner replied, looking distraught.

I wanted to squeal for joy. Dogs weren’t allowed on the beach and there was no sign about cats.

‘I’m not scared of dogs, Dad.’ George puffed his little chest out and I moved closer. George claimed not to be scared of anything, which of course scared me. As the owner put the lead on the dog and dragged him, huffily, off the beach, we prepared to join the others.

‘George, I am not going to say this again. Dogs are silly creatures, of course they aren’t as clever as us cats, but they are bigger and if they’re off the lead they might try to hurt us. We can’t risk that.’

As if to prove my point, the dog, Trevor, barked aggressively as he was being led away from the beach.

We went to join our family. As we started walking on the sand, I turned to George.

‘It’s a bit weird,’ I said, not really able to articulate what it actually felt like.

‘It’s, like, very sinky,’ George said, as his paws disappeared into the yellow, grainy stuff. It took us a while before we could actually walk properly, but we finally made our way to our families.

‘Oh, Alfie and George, I’m not sure that cats are supposed to be on the beach,’ Franceska laughed.

‘No dogs aren’t allowed,’ Toby pointed out. ‘I read the sign.’

‘Good boy,’ Claire said. ‘But is there a sign for cats?’

‘No, no sign for cats,’ Toby replied.

‘Toby, can I bury your feets?’ Summer asked, approaching with a spade. Toby nodded and put his feet out in front of him for her.

‘OK, Alfie, George, sit down here with us and don’t get into any trouble,’ Claire said, pointing to the blanket next to her. Trouble? What on earth could she mean?

We spent a very lovely morning on the beach. It was warm but at times there was a pleasant breeze that ruffled our fur. George let Summer bury his paws but then he didn’t like it and squealed a lot. George and I did attract a few funny looks and some people came over to talk to us but Claire and Franceska told them that we liked to go everywhere with them. Some people even took photos of us. And best of all there were no seagulls.

I lay down to enjoy the sunshine as I kept an eye on the children and my kitten. Aleksy was supervising building a very elaborate castle, Tommy was running down to get wetter sand from further down the beach and running back, Summer and Martha were looking for shells to decorate it, and Toby and Henry were in charge of something called a moat. Wow, I thought, this was really something special. Even George was now getting used to the sand and was only sinking a bit, but that was alright because all the children took delight in rescuing him. As I lazily watched everything going on, I felt as warm inside as it was outside.

I did feel a bit hot though, something which didn’t seem to bother George, who was basking in the sun. Aleksy was showing off his latest building – it was a sand igloo and he cleverly explained how it was hollow inside. I had to say, with its domed top and entrance hall, it looked quite inviting. While they were finding more wet sand to add to the sides and top, I thought I would see if I could fit in. I wiggled through the entrance with ease. Wow, it was cool, and just comfortable enough. I could hear everyone chattering outside as I lay down and decided to shut my eyes for a quick cat nap.

A little while later, after a refreshing nap, I opened my eyes but I couldn’t see anything – it was pitch black. I tried to move but I couldn’t, there was pressure pushing down on every side. I wiggled in fear, but I was surrounded by sand. I could barely breathe and I panicked, which made it even worse. The sand igloo must have collapsed, I needed help, now. I opened my mouth to yowl and it filled with sand. As I attempted to spit it out and tried again, I started meowing as loudly as I could, until I was exhausted and my mouth grainy with sand. Finally I could hear voices outside, so I yowled some more, hoping to draw their attention. I tried not to panic any more than I was, as the more I moved the more trapped I seemed to be. I couldn’t even swish my tail.

I was breathless from all the screeching and although I could breathe, I was feeling more terrified by the minute. Even my voice was sounding wrong as I squealed again. If someone didn’t come soon I might be living in a sand igloo forever, being washed out to sea, possibly ending up in a far and distant foreign land! I heard the voices coming closer and finally a glimpse of daylight through a crack in the sand.

‘See, Aleksy, I told you Alfie must be in there,’ Tommy shouted. ‘My goodness, he could be hurt!’

‘Oh no, poor Alfie, I didn’t know, I’m so sorry.’ Aleksy’s voice was distraught. They kept digging until I was free, and Aleksy took me in his arms, brushing the worst of the sand off. I slowed my breathing down and the panic began to subside. I had to blink a few times so I could see and adjust to the bright light.

The children and George surrounded me, full of concern. Franceska appeared with some drinks, while I tried to shake the rest of the sand off my fur and catch my breath. Claire approached with Summer and Toby – they’d been for a paddle in the water.

‘What happened to Alfie?’ Claire asked. ‘I turn my back for five minutes.’ She shook her head.

Five minutes? It was far longer than that, more like hours. Being buried in sand had now been added to my near-death experiences. Others involved a bad man hurting me, almost being run over crossing the road, nearly drowning in a lake, being stuck up a tree – oh and once I was nearly attacked by a seagull. George nuzzled me, whispering that he was so happy to see I was alright. I felt slightly embarrassed; I was constantly warning George of trouble yet it was me who’d put himself in danger.

‘He’s OK, he was in my sand igloo and then when we were making another castle, it sort of collapsed. We didn’t know Alfie was in there.’

‘It’s usually George who gets into trouble these days,’ Claire pointed out. I rested my case.

‘We’re exhausted,’ Claire said as Polly appeared on the lawn. Claire had told us all it was time to go home for a bit to get lunch. I was quite pleased as I was still recovering from being buried alive. Earlier, I had wanted to take George to explore the sand hills, which I heard were called sand dunes, but Claire wouldn’t let us out of her sight now. And although I wouldn’t let my experience put me off the beach, I knew I would be more careful from now on.

‘Chasing the children round in the sun has taken its toll but they love the beach already,’ Claire continued.

‘And the beach loves us,’ Franceska laughed, brushing sand off her legs.

‘Right, well let’s have a picnic lunch out here. It’s a bit dusty in there, although by teatime the kitchen should be usable,’ Polly said, coming over to join us.

‘What are we doing about lunch then?’ Claire asked.

‘I thought we could get sandwiches, crisps and cold drinks from the village shop,’ Polly said. ‘I daren’t go into the kitchen. Aleksy, do you want to help me? You can also choose some treats for everyone.’

‘Yes, I’ll help.’ Aleksy stood up proudly, as he went with Polly.

‘Any special requests or are you happy with whatever?’

‘You know what the kids like, and I’m happy with anything. Do you want some money?’

‘No, I’ve got some. Right, let’s go.’

‘Yelp!’ I said. I wanted something too.

‘I’ll see what seafood they have for you two, of course,’ Polly laughed. ‘After all, we are by the sea, so they should have something nice.’

She bent down to give me a pat and I purred. I deserved a treat after my ordeal.

We passed a lovely afternoon on the lawn. It was too hot for us to go back to the beach, I told George. In truth I wasn’t ready to revisit it just yet, I was still feeling a little bit anxious. We could see so much from here in the shade of a lovely bush. I did ask George why he hadn’t noticed I was missing earlier but he just raised his whiskers and said he was far too busy digging holes, as if that was the most natural answer in the world.

As we watched, there was even more activity on the beach; children, and people on the water, which had moved closer up the beach – Claire said it was the tide coming in. There were some flat boards that people seemed to be standing on. I didn’t know what they were, having not seen them before.

‘Can I learn to paddleboard?’ Aleksy asked. Ah, that’s what those people were doing.

‘Yes, kochanie,’ Franceska said. ‘We’ll find out how to do it and then you and Tommy can learn.’

I hoped they would be careful, water was tricky and although I knew humans seemed to quite like it – the bath, a swimming pool, the sea – us cats sensibly steered clear.

Aleksy set up a game of football for the kids as us adults relaxed on a blanket. Polly went to check on the builders every now and then, Claire dozed off and Franceska read her book. I watched George chasing the football around, pretty unsuccessfully, but I knew he would sleep well tonight. In fact, the sea air was making me sleepy again.

‘Dad,’ a voice woke me. I looked up to see George standing there. I must have nodded off.

‘George.’

‘Everyone’s gone inside for tea, the builders have gone and I think it’s our teatime.’ I glanced across at the beach again to see it was emptying. The sky was still bright but I felt hungry so, yes, it must be teatime.

‘Let’s go then, George, come on, round the back.’

We went through the cat flap and saw there was a doorway into the utility room which hadn’t been there before. It was a bit messy but not too bad as we made our way into the kitchen via the ‘sand room’. It was good because it took a while for George and I to shake even more sand off our fur – it sure did like to stick and I didn’t want Claire to insist on bathing us.

Before we headed into the kitchen I stopped. There was a funny smell again, I could have sworn it was a cat but there was no other feline here apart from me and George so I couldn’t understand it. I had a good poke around in the corners but there was no sign of anything, just the smell. I didn’t like it though. I lingered for a bit longer, double checking around as I heard George being greeted in the kitchen. Then I heard a lot of laughter. Reluctantly leaving my search, I made my way into the kitchen where I saw George sitting on the kitchen table near Summer. Claire was shrieking but everyone else was laughing. I took a closer look. All the children had ice-cream cones and George had his face in Summer’s.

‘Look, George likes ice cream,’ Henry said, giggling. Summer was holding the cone out to him.

‘Don’t encourage him, Sum, and you can’t eat that now,’ Claire chastised, taking the cone off her. But the damage had been done. George was covered in ice cream, and as he licked the ice cream off his face a big grin appeared either side of his ice-cream-white nose.

‘This is special local ice cream, made from clotted cream,’ Polly explained, reading the tub she had taken it from.

‘It’s delicious, but I’m not sure we should be feeding it to the cats,’ Franceska said.

‘It’s very cold but I really do like ice cream,’ George said to me when no one was listening.

I licked a bit off his head. Um, actually it wasn’t bad, I could see the appeal. I saw Claire put the rest of Summer’s ice cream onto a plate by the sink. I jumped up and started licking and George joined me. Franceska took her phone out and started taking photos.

‘Only we could have cats who get to eat Devon’s finest ice cream,’ Polly laughed.

‘Meow,’ I said, as I lapped up the creamy, cold mixture. It was delicious.

‘Well I suppose it’s their holiday too,’ Claire finished. ‘Although I am still not sure they should be allowed it.’

‘Surely the odd treat?’ Franceska said, giving me a big smile.

Our holiday was suddenly looking up.