A Cat Called Alfie. Rachel Wells

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       - CHAPTER -

       One

      I yawned and stretched, blinking into the dark night. The sky was clear, stars sprinkled sparsely above me, and the moon lit us up in a spotlight.

      ‘I’d better go home, Tiger,’ I reluctantly said. ‘They might be worrying.’ It wasn’t often that I stayed out so late, but Tiger and I had been having fun with some of the neighbourhood cats and I’d lost track of time.

      ‘OK, Alfie, I’ll walk you home.’ Although Tiger, my best friend, was a girl cat, she was pretty tough and definitely scarier than I was. And, after all I had been through, I quite liked having her as my bodyguard. Even as we strolled down Edgar Road together, passing dark houses, lit street lamps, and parked cars, I jumped occasionally at my shadow. I was a bit nervous in the dark; past memories were conjured up, things I would rather forget, but Tiger was striding protectively next to me so I tried to remember that I was safe now.

      ‘Look, Tiger,’ I exclaimed, fear forgotten, as we stopped near the house next door to mine; number 48 Edgar Road.

      ‘My goodness, it looks as if someone is moving in,’ she replied.

      ‘At this time of night!’ I exclaimed. This was incredibly strange – not only did I know that humans normally slept at night but they also normally moved house during the day.

      We snuck into the front garden and hid behind a bush, a place we knew well, as we excitedly watched events unfold.

      Tiger and I had staked out this house on many an occasion. In fact we knew it almost as well as we knew our own.

      A few months ago the current owners had moved out and a ‘To Let’ sign had gone up. I’d persuaded Tiger to join me to check out the progress of the house on many occasions; even after all this time, I couldn’t resist the lure of an empty home. A few years ago, having found myself homeless, I was taught by a wise cat that empty houses heralded new people, and therefore potential families for cats in need. Like a moth to a flame, they called me to them. Although I now had loving families, and I certainly wasn’t a cat in need, I still found myself drawn to them.

      There was a large white van parked outside and two men were unloading it. Both men were wearing jeans and jumpers; one wore a woolly hat, the other had very little hair. They were both tall; one was slim, the other a bit more rotund. They were largely silent as they carried large boxes from the van and into the house.

      I purred with excitement.

      ‘New owners! I can’t wait to meet them,’ I said to Tiger.

      ‘Oh, Alfie, you’re such a doorstep cat. When it comes to new families, you just can’t help yourself can you?’ Tiger asked. I shook my head. ‘You don’t think it’s odd?’ she added.

      ‘Well yes a bit,’ I replied.

      ‘Who moves stuff into a house in the middle of the night?’

      She was right, I thought, as I pondered why on earth they would choose the dead of night to move their belongings in?

      When I first arrived at Edgar Road, over three years ago now, I had been taught that the signs they put up outside houses signalled that new people were moving in. I had arrived in the street homeless, abandoned after my owner passed away. Scared, lonely and with nowhere to go, I had used those signs to find the four houses that would soon become my new homes.

      Without realizing it, I had become a doorstep cat; a cat who visits or lives in multiple houses. With so many homes, I could ensure that I was always going to be fed and loved. Finding myself totally alone in the world, without an owner, had broken my heart and I knew I could never face that again.

      I had started with four new homes in Edgar Road, but they had dwindled to two after families had moved. So although I was pretty secure, I found old habits hard to break, and couldn’t help investigating empty houses. You never knew what was around the corner.

      ‘It’s a fairly big house,’ Tiger pointed out. ‘Which probably means a whole family will move in.’ Tiger lived only a few doors down from me but her house was smaller. My main family, Jonathan and Claire, were now married after I had brought them together, and lived in Jonathan’s large house, which cried out for a family. It was too big for just two people and a cat; it badly needed children running around it. They both wanted one, or maybe more than one, but I was their spoilt baby for now. Not something you would ever hear me complain about.

      ‘I hope there’ll СКАЧАТЬ