A Cat Called Alfie. Rachel Wells. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Rachel Wells
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Домашние Животные
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780008142209
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up the nearest tree. A small, rotund dog, with short legs but long hair, yapped up at us as we teased it. When we came here at this time of day we often ran into this particular dog and it had become part of our exercise routine – I had to hide from him when my leg was bad though. The dog was always followed by its screaming owner.

      ‘Roly, come here! Roly, stop, ROLY,’ a grey haired woman cried out as she made her way, huffing and puffing over, brandishing a lead as if it was a whip. It made us laugh as she finally clipped the lead on the dog and chastised him.

      ‘Bad dog. We do not chase cats,’ she shouted. ‘How many times do I have to tell you?’

      ‘Many more, I hope,’ Tiger laughed. We weren’t in any real danger after all, and it certainly livened up our afternoon.

      ‘Honestly, humans spend all this time and money going to the gym whereas all we have to do is get a dog to chase us,’ I observed to Tiger.

      ‘And those humans think they’re the smart ones,’ she replied with a wry smile.

      When we got back to Edgar Road, Tiger went off for her nap and I went to Polly and Matt’s. I suspected Matt would be at work but the children might be there. I let myself in through the cat flap and to my delight found Polly and Franceska in the kitchen.

      ‘Alfie,’ Franceska said, getting up to give me a stroke. ‘I’ve seen so much of you this week.’

      ‘I bet you want some lunch.’ Polly smiled and got up. She opened a can of salmon and put it in a special bowl she kept just for me. She poured water into my water bowl too, which I was grateful for. Exercise left me thirsty. There was no sign of the children; I realized the boys were at nursery and school respectively and Martha was probably asleep. I curled up by the kitchen window and took a well-deserved rest as I listened to the chatter of the two women.

      ‘The thing is, Aleksy doesn’t talk to me,’ Franceska said. ‘I mean I ask him how is school and he just says “OK, Mama.” But nothing else.’

      ‘But you think something is wrong?’ Polly looked concerned, as did I. I remembered the other day when he’d been a bit quiet, I thought he was about to tell me something when we were interrupted.

      ‘He has some tears in his clothes, and he loses his things, like his pencil case. He seems quieter than normal and suddenly less keen on school.’

      ‘Have you spoken to the school?’

      ‘I’ve got an appointment with the head later, but you know you hear about bullying and how hard it is for children to talk about it. I can’t bear it if someone hurts my Aleksy.’

      ‘Of course you can’t, Frankie, being a mum means we worry about them constantly. I get upset at playgroup when I see someone pushing one of mine, but the thought that we don’t know what they are going through …’

      ‘I know. Motherhood is wonderful but worry is the price.’

      ‘And guilt.’ Polly’s eyes clouded over, briefly. ‘Well, let me know what the school says and if there’s anything we can do. Aleksy and Matt are close, so maybe he can take him out for football and talk to him.’

      ‘I would so very appreciate that.’ Franceska’s English was so much better than it had been when we first met but when she was upset, mistakes started to come through. ‘His dad tries to talk to him but he’s clammed up with him too.’

      I felt a flutter in my chest. Things had been calm for so long that there was bound to be something else coming up. But Aleksy? I never expected that. I knew I would need to keep a close eye on this situation, as well as the new family. I had a feeling things were going to get busy again.

      ‘What about the weekend? Why don’t we meet up on Sunday?’

      ‘Ah that would be great, we could all go to the park and maybe Matt could try to talk to Aleksy then. We’ve both tried but he won’t …’

      ‘Frankie, it’s common for children not to want to worry their parents; they don’t understand by not talking they worry us more. But we’ll get to the bottom of it, I promise.’ Polly reached over and grabbed Franceska’s hands. I purred gently, happy to see another friendship that was so solid and knowing that I had been its foundation. It reminded me that I wanted to help people, both Aleksy and the new family. It was what I did.

      I miaowed loudly and went to rub against Franceska’s legs. Yes we would get to the bottom of it, I was determined. My to-do list was growing again.

       - CHAPTER -

       Eight

      I fell asleep at some point after they left to pick up the boys and when I woke it was almost dark. I stretched out languidly; I had no idea how long I’d been asleep but it seemed like ages. I made my way back to Claire and Jonathan’s. I was excited because Tasha, one of my other favourite humans was coming over for dinner with her partner Dave. Annoyingly, he was allergic to cats but when he came over he took some sort of pill to stop him sneezing. Everyone found it amusing but not me, I was affronted; it was no joking matter, having to take anti-cat pills. I used to say I would never trust a man who was allergic to cats but Dave seems OK and I love Tasha, so I have to accept him.

      As I let myself back into the house, Claire was cooking and Jonathan was humming as he read the newspaper at the table. They both had drinks and they looked happy. As I sat by the door, head cocked to one side, watching them, I felt lucky yet again.

      ‘Alfie,’ they both said in unison as they greeted me. Jonathan and Claire smiled broadly at me. I nudged my bowl to tell them I was hungry.

      ‘I’m on it, Alfie,’ Jonathan said, going to the enormous fridge.

      ‘Jonathan, he doesn’t need to have smoked salmon. That’s for breakfast tomorrow and I’ve got lots of cat food,’ Claire stated, sounding cross.

      I miaowed in protest.

      ‘Hey, before I knew you existed, my darling, I gave him lots of fish. I can’t stop that and just give him the rubbish you feed him.’

      ‘He’s spoilt.’

      ‘He should be, he’s an extraordinary cat.’ Jonathan sliced the salmon and laid it in my bowl as if it was a five star restaurant. I licked my lips.

      ‘He most definitely is.’ Claire smiled indulgently.

      By the time Tasha and Dave arrived, some very appealing smells were coming from the kitchen. I loved Tasha and when she visited, it reminded me of the days when it was just me and Claire and she was our first real friend. I rushed to greet them as Jonathan opened the door, getting gently scolded for getting in the way.

      ‘Alfie, you’re going to trip me up if you insist on getting under my feet,’ he admonished as he opened the door. I was too eager, I know, but I was one excited cat.

      ‘Hi,’ Jonathan said, smiling and standing back to let Tasha and Dave in. Tasha immediately picked me up and Dave handed Jonathan some drinks and looked at me warily.

      ‘Hi, Alfie,’ he said, but I noticed he didn’t get too close. I toyed with the idea of rubbing up against him to say hello, but realized that I just had to accept our arm’s-length relationship and that I shouldn’t be offended.

      ‘Missed you, Alfie,’ Tasha said as she carried me through to the kitchen. I revelled in her hug, she was so warm and caring, but there was something different about her tonight. I immediately sensed it. Something good, not bad, although I had no idea exactly what it was.

      ‘Hi, Tash, oh you’ve got Alfie.’ Claire leant in to kiss Tasha’s cheek then Dave’s who was close behind her.

      ‘Right,’ Jonathan said, ‘drinks.’ Tasha put me on the floor.

      ‘Beer