A Cat Called Alfie. Rachel Wells

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       - CHAPTER -

       Seven

      ‘I don’t mind cooking,’ Jonathan offered, as he stood staring at his prized possession, the coffee machine, which was whirring away. When I’d first heard the chrome thing gurgling and spluttering I thought it was alive and would eat me, but now I was used to it. Jonathan liked shiny gadgets that cost a lot of money and made a lot of noise, it seemed.

      ‘Darling, no offence, but when you cook, I have to clean up and it normally takes weeks. Anyway you know what Tasha and Dave are like, they’re happy with anything.’

      ‘OK, but if you cook do I have to clear up?’

      ‘Jonathan, stop being an idiot, you know that I clean up as I go along. You can go and get some nice wine, buy some flowers for the house, and treat me to a new dress.’

      ‘Really, all that?’ Looking bemused he took his coffee and sat at the kitchen table.

      ‘OK, I don’t need a dress but you can get flowers and wine.’

      ‘I would buy you all the dresses in the world if you wanted, you know that.’

      ‘I do and that’s why I love you.’

      Once again, I had to put my paws over my eyes as they started smooching. I was glad they were happy but I didn’t necessarily want to see it. Tasha teased Claire and called it the ‘honeymoon period’. I didn’t know exactly what it meant but I had guessed that it meant it wouldn’t last forever. Hopefully. I was all for affection but people could take it too far – it was almost enough to put me off my breakfast.

      It was time for me to leave. I had said I would call on Tiger, so we could hang out. Maybe with some of the others, depending on who was around. For the past few days I had not had a sighting of the beautiful white cat. Or its owners for that matter. And I had spent a fair bit of time at the fence. Not only had I not seen her but I didn’t even know her name yet. And I desperately wanted to find out what it was.

      I had heard Claire telling Jonathan she had popped round to say welcome, but there had been no answer, although she was sure she’d heard movement in the house. They were certainly mysterious and I wondered if Vic and Heather had managed to get to them yet. They probably had their binoculars trained on the house as it was.

      I still hadn’t come up with a plan on how to meet the white cat again, but I was working on it. My little brain was always whirring and perhaps today would be the day that I caught sight of her again.

      As I made my way out of the back garden – quickly checking the fence for activity – and round to Tiger’s house, she was waiting for me, giving herself a clean before we set off for our morning walk.

      Exercise was important to me, particularly because of my injury, as I had to keep fit and my limbs moving. So I had taken to going to the park most days, sometimes with Polly, other times with Tiger, as well as strolling up and around Edgar Road.

      ‘Park?’ she asked.

      ‘You read my mind,’ I replied. The park at the end of our road was small but we loved it. Full of bushes, creatures to chase and, of course, children; we found plenty to entertain us there.

      There was also a pond but I didn’t like to think about that after a near-death experience I had falling into it once. Matt rescued me but it taught me to keep away from water. I even avoided puddles if I could.

      On the way, we sneaked a look at number 48, to see if there had been any developments but nothing had changed. The curtains were drawn, although lights were glimmering through them. I wasn’t a judgemental cat but it was most odd.

      ‘Salmon’s family said that there might be twenty people living there,’ I told Tiger. ‘But we only saw four.’

      ‘Yesterday they came round to ours and were ranting on about criminals to my humans. Saying that no one has seen them, they keep the curtains drawn and so they are definitely up to something. They said something about a drugs den but I have no idea what that is.’

      ‘Me neither.’ I tried to think about why they might be so secretive. ‘But I guess we’ll find out soon – they’ll have to show their faces at some point.’ I was agitated, my excitement at the idea of seeing the white cat again was off the scale. Just then we were rewarded as the front door opened and the surly boy walked out. He looked furtively around and then pulled his hood up as he started walking down the path. I felt all of a quiver as I saw that the cat was at his feet.

      ‘Look, Tiger,’ I said, nudging her with my head. We both stood still and looked. When the boy got to the street, he leant down and petted the cat.

      ‘Bye, Snowball,’ he said, sounding cross. ‘Wish me luck.’ Snowball purred and rubbed up against his legs in a most affectionate way. She seemed like a completely different cat from when we met her. And I knew her name!

      As the boy walked off she looked directly at us. I gave her my most charming look but she immediately narrowed her eyes, turned and, with her tail flapping aggressively, stalked back to the front door, where I noticed the woman was standing. She smiled grimly at the cat, picked her up and shut the door.

      ‘Well, I hate to agree with Salmon but they are acting very strangely,’ Tiger stated.

      ‘They are, but at least now we know the beautiful cat is called Snowball.’

      ‘Alfie, she’s mean! And whilst you may think she’s beautiful, I think she’s cold.’ I raised my whiskers – Tiger sounded cold herself.

      ‘Yes but, Tiger, remember how Jonathan was when I first met him. He was horrid and angry towards me, and now he loves me. I think there’s more to this than meets the eye and I intend to find out what’s going on.’

      ‘Here we go again,’ Tiger said, giving me a stern stare.

      I squirmed as I tried to avoid her glaring eyes, but I knew what she meant. I had always meddled and tried to help people; it had been my role since moving to Edgar Road and although things had been calm lately, this little cat couldn’t change its fur. Humans often say that curiosity killed the cat but, actually, it was this that kept me going. Part of our intelligence is our interest in everything; that’s what I fully believe.

      Blip over, we eventually strolled on in companionable silence. Every now and then we’d stop to chase a flying insect, or play with an inviting looking leaf that dangled over the street. I tried to placate Tiger by catching a fly, and I ended up spinning round in circles chasing it, which made her laugh. Soon I was forgiven, although I couldn’t help but wonder why she was so grumpy with me recently.

      When we got to the park, it was almost deserted. I led Tiger to our favourite area, which had some of the bushiest bushes, as well as lots of colourful flowers and СКАЧАТЬ