Alfie in the Snow

Chapter Twenty-Six

Claire came into the house, having dropped all the children off at school and immediately called Franceska on the phone.

‘Hi,’ Claire said. ‘I just bumped into Sylvie. I’m seriously worried, she said that someone is out to get her.’

There was a pause.

‘Because she’s had a dead mouse, bird and now dead flowers left on her doorstep. I tried to reassure her that no one would do such a thing but she’s not convinced.’

Another pause.

‘Yes, I’m sorry, Frankie, but she thinks it might be Aleksy.’

Pause.

‘I told her he wouldn’t do anything like that, but it is a bit weird, isn’t it?’

Pause.

‘Yes, but of course it’s not Aleksy, and I told her, don’t worry, but I thought you might need a heads-up. Oh, and Polly was telling me today that someone had taken some of her flowers from the garden. How weird is that?’

It was beginning to sink in that my plan may have been a bit foolish. I hadn’t taken into account that Sylvie was a mere human and not as highly sophisticated as us cats. Yet again I had expected too much and I wondered if Tiger would be laughing at me in heaven or wherever she was – of course she would. No more ill-thought-out gifts, I would need a new plan.

On the plus side, we were about to have a breakthrough with the Hana situation. I gleaned from Claire and Polly’s conversation about the dead things that Sylvie was still refusing to have anything much to do with us, but she was working longer hours, and had told Claire that a lady called Susan had just started coming to the house to clean it – apparently so Claire didn’t think she was a burglar. I think that Sylvie was showing that she did want to communicate after all but she still didn’t know how, that was my take.

I immediately formed a plan, and explained it to George. All we needed to do was to find out when this Susan came, and then get George into the house with her. It would bank on her not throwing him out but, after all, no one could resist George. OK, well perhaps Harold could, but we had a feeling this Susan loved cats and so wouldn’t be immune to his charms. Hopefully anyway.

So, George and I cased the house, waiting for her. We knew Susan came after Connie had left for school and Sylvie for work. It became part of our daily routine. We would breakfast, then clean ourselves, and when everyone from our house left for school we would go and camp out next door. We’d wait in the front garden, sheltering from the cold under a fat bush, and if there was no sign by lunchtime we would know she wasn’t going to turn up, so I’d head home and George would go and visit with Hana through the glass. The routine helped me; although I was still pining for Tiger, I appreciated being kept busy. As did George. It was helping us to rebuild our relationship too, spending time together. We chatted as we waited, and I felt closer to George, once again.

We struck lucky on the third day, when a lady unlatched the gate and made her way up the front path. She was wearing jeans, had her hair tied back and looked very friendly, I thought. As we watched her approach the front door, I gestured for George to go.

‘Go in with her, quick,’ I said as the lady stood on the doorstep, fumbling around in her pocket for a key. He started to move towards her and then stopped.

‘Dad, you forgot to tell me how to get out again?’

‘Make sure you leave when she does, son,’ I said. Bless him, I thought, he still had a lot to learn. I crossed my paws that this would all work out as I watched George slip in between Susan’s legs as she began to walk through the door.

‘Who do we have here?’ she said, bending down.

‘Meow,’ George said. I saw Hana come to the door, and I saw her eyes widen as she saw George there. They greeted each other with a nuzzle and then Susan shut the door. He was in.

I felt warm; George and Hana were together for now and I hoped they had a nice time together. I also hoped he came back with a lot more information. Actually, more than anything, I hoped he remembered to leave with Susan.

Feeling satisfied, I stared at the closed front door for a few minutes before I headed back. I imagined that, as Susan got on with her work, George and Hana would have a tour of the house, as I had that time I’d got stuck inside, and they would play together, chat, really enjoying their time together. I raised my whiskers at another job well done.

Back at our house, I found Claire, Polly and a man I hadn’t met before sitting round the kitchen table with a notepad and pen in front of them. I was curious as I jumped up onto Claire’s lap.

‘Marcus, this is Alfie, one of our cats who alerted us to your father.’ Ah, so this was Marcus. He was nothing like I’d expected. I’d expected a slightly younger version of the angry, red-faced man, but he was tall, slim and about the same age as Matt and Jonathan at a guess. He had curly dark hair, glasses, and he looked very kind. Nothing like his father.

‘I still can’t believe your cats saved my father, it’s crazy,’ he said, with a small laugh.