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‘George, can we play?’ Pickles asked as he was let off the lead once inside the house. The children, having made a fuss of us, had moved on to getting snacks.

‘OK, you hide.’ George loved playing hide and seek with Pickles, because he always won, which I don’t believe is in the spirit of the game, but there was no telling George that. I tried to suggest he let Pickles win sometimes but he refused, saying that Pickles needed to learn. It’s been over a year and he hasn’t got it yet so I’m not sure he ever will, but George is resolute. Hide and seek hasn’t always been a success – in fact, it has been quite treacherous in the past. Pickles once got stuck on the top bunk of Toby’s bed with no idea how to get down and he’s also been trapped in a cereal box, the cat flap, and once he even almost buried himself in the garden. But as long as he’s supervised when playing it’s normally OK.

Pickles went to hide behind the armchair (his favourite place), and George humoured him by looking everywhere else before he finally found him. George, when it was his turn, hid behind the living room curtain. I could barely watch as Pickles ran around the room trying to find him, and failed. George hid there nearly every time they played, but the poor dog just couldn’t get it. I never knew whether to laugh or cry. Instead, I gave up and went in search of adult company.

‘Hi Alfie,’ Claire said, picking me up and giving me a cuddle. ‘I’ve started making lists for Christmas. We both love Christmas don’t we?’ She set me down.

We do both love Christmas, the most wonderful time of the year. It’s a time for family, friends, happiness, and good food. I am partial to a bit of Christmas dinner, I cannot lie. I could feel Claire’s excitement, which was contagious. It wouldn’t be too long before the children were writing letters to Santa, the man who delivered presents, asking for whatever it was they would want this year. George and I were happy enough with the food but we always got a few cat toys and treats as well. But the fact we were all together as a family, the fact that we had each other, always struck me as the most important thing about Christmas. It was a time of year when I would definitely count my lucky stars – and there were a lot.

It was always welcome when we could start planning for Christmas. Normally it was December when the excitement really got going with trees, decorations, advent calendars, and events at school, but I was happy to get a bit of early Christmas spirit. What cat wouldn’t be?

Polly arrived after tea, taking her two reluctant children and an exhausted Pickles with her. I went to find George.

‘I heard that a new woman moved onto Edgar Road,’ I told him now we were alone. I didn’t want to mention it in front of Pickles, because I was going to suggest that George and I go and check her out and as Pickles absolutely couldn’t come with us, it didn’t seem fair to talk about it in front of him. Also, he had been known to follow us out and get us into trouble so possibly a good idea to avoid that.

But, I was suddenly nostalgic for the days when I visited Franceska and Polly’s flats, it seemed so long ago now. ‘Apparently she doesn’t have a cat, so maybe we should go and introduce ourselves?’ I was curious and, being a doorstep cat, I couldn’t help but be excited every time someone new moved onto the street. The first thing I would need to know was if they had a cat, and if they didn’t I would go and charm them. You never knew if they would have need of a cat or not. Most people did though.

‘Dad, it’s been a long day and I’m tired, but if you can wait I promise I’ll come with you in the morning, even before I go to see Hana.’

‘OK, it’s a deal.’ I tried to hide the disappointment I felt. But then George had pretty much always lived in this one house, and although he visited the others with me, he didn’t quite have the doorstep cat gene, so I tried to be understanding. And the morning would be fine because he was right, it had been a long day and we were all tired. But I was still feeling a little bit disappointed. I wasn’t known for my patience.

Later that evening, Claire and I were catching a few minutes’ peace and quiet and I was trying not to be too impatient, waiting for the following day. Jonathan was working late, the children were upstairs, ready but not in bed, and George was with them.

The doorbell went, startling me, and I ran to wait by it, because as far as I knew we weren’t expecting anyone. Claire opened it and Aleksy and Connie stood on the doorstep. I immediately jumped into Aleksy’s arms; it was just what I needed, another cuddle from someone who loved me. He also gave me a very nice head scratch.

‘Come in you two. Did I ask you to babysit?’ Claire asked, sounding confused. Aleksy and Connie were now old enough to babysit for Summer and Toby when Claire and Jonathan went out. They also did the same for Polly, and it was quite the money maker, according to Aleksy.