Alfie in the Snow

Despite the fact that we were miserable, we tried to enjoy the occasion the way we would most years. The children were so excited as they helped decorate it, as was fast becoming a Christmas tradition. It looked a little bottom heavy as a result but it also reflected our family. There were homemade decorations from both Summer and Toby, their favourite coloured baubles, which they were allowed to choose, and an abundance of tinsel. Toby even begged George not to try to jump into the tree this year. As George had done this every year since he’d been with us, we weren’t confident. Even though he said he would try his best, I had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t be able to resist. Our living room had a sudden explosion of tinsel, lights and brightness, and it couldn’t fail but to cheer us up. It was a burst of colour in our very black and white life.

Claire then did as she’d suggested she would and put out lots of candles. I wasn’t sure about them – candles, cats and children weren’t a good combination – but she said this was her nod to ‘hygge’. She hadn’t quite grasped what else it meant so to her it was just far too many candles and, as Jonathan said, ‘turning our house into a fire hazard’.

Claire had also written most of her Christmas cards and she put one through the door at Sylvie’s saying she hoped that they could have a drink over Christmas. Claire, like me, didn’t like giving up, so she was trying to come up with ways to get Sylvie back into our Edgar Road fold. Jonathan told Claire to leave it but she rarely listened to him. I agreed, not just because we liked and cared about Sylvie, but also because both Aleksy and Connie were still being kept apart. I knew (via Hana and George) that Connie was still crying most nights, and Aleksy was miserable without his friend (via Dustbin).

Hana told George that Sylvie had found out that her ex-husband was having a baby with his new woman and that had set her off into deeper depression. He’d even suggested Connie going to spend Christmas with them but Sylvie couldn’t bear to lose the only person she had left in her life. I understood. We were lucky with all the people we loved, despite losing Tiger, but she had no one. It was beyond sad.

I saw her in the street and tried to get her attention but she seemed to look through me as if I was invisible. I really was worried about her and her state of mind. It wasn’t good, I could tell. I needed to do something, and through habit I went to see Tiger, momentarily forgetting that she was no longer there. I was alone to come up with a plan. I wanted to get Hana out of the house, but again, nothing. I thought if I got George in then that would be something, but they didn’t even leave the top windows open any more, so I had no chance. There was literally no way in. George offered to see if he could fit through the letter box but even I knew that wouldn’t work.

I was trying to make my list, in my head. Tiger, gone, but I wasn’t ready to let go. Aleksy, missing his first love, and we all knew what that was like. Connie, isolated and angry with her mother. Sylvie, upset about her divorce but taking it out on the wrong people. Hana, a poor cat caught in the middle. And George, who was still disappearing regularly, still not quite talking to me the way he used to, and obviously hurting but refusing to let me comfort him. It was a lot.

Thank goodness for Christmas. The only speck of happiness on the horizon.

I sat with Claire as she made even more lists. She explained to me she was making a list of presents to get.

‘Everyone likes getting gifts, Alfie, so I am going to make sure I put a lot of thought into it. It’s how us humans show we love each other.’

Ping, I had a brainwave. Gifts, of course. That was the answer. I would win Sylvie over by getting her gifts. I went off for my afternoon nap and to try to make my own list of what I could get her.

‘I am never speaking to him again,’ I heard Toby shout as the front door opened and, along with a gust of icy wind, Claire, Toby and Summer burst in.

‘Toby, calm down,’ Claire pleaded. She chewed her bottom lip, worriedly. Summer was looking a bit startled, after all she wasn’t the one being dramatic for once and she didn’t seem to know how to handle that. Toby’s face was red and angry. Oh no, what now, I thought. This was not good. Our Toby was such a star. He had come to us age five having been adopted, and not having had a great start in life. At first he’d had nightmares, which George had stopped, and then he’d had a fear of being sent away. But finally, he now seemed to feel, to believe, he was the important part of the family that he really was. It was both heart-breaking that he’d been through that but heart-warming that he had us now and we had him. We all loved him so much. Just as much as Summer.