Alfie in the Snow

Since becoming the star of the school nativity play, and actually getting to spend time with Hana, he was doing pretty well. Of course the tail incident was still fresh in our minds, but apart from it being painful and singed, George was fine. The vet had given him an injection which took some of the pain away and my resilient boy had bounced back. Toby said all of the school now wanted to come to our house to meet George, and Summer suggested selling tickets – Jonathan was proud at this, Claire not so much so. And George took being famous in his stride but I could tell he quite liked it. He still talked to me about missing Tiger mum, and how hard he found it to walk past her house. I knew that one. Some days I would find myself in her back garden, staring at the closed cat flap as if she would slide through it, but of course she never would. Sometimes seeing her house, knowing she wasn’t there, floored me, so I understand how he felt. One day, I literally froze as I approached the house and couldn’t bring myself to walk past it. It was beyond hard.

After the apology at school, the children had returned to normal for the last week of term. Well, as normal as they ever were at Christmas. Summer declared that she was going to be a famous actress when she was older and Toby said he wouldn’t want to be an actor, because there were too many girls involved, so he was going to do something like be a spaceman, where you didn’t have to hold anyone’s hands. Henry and Toby were firm friends again and Martha, with her customary laid-back manner, was just lovely Martha.

So many people had viewed the video that George had even been mentioned in a newspaper, and now he felt that he was the most famous member of the family, which of course he was. But no one dared tell Summer that.

Amidst all the chaos, Christmas was drawing closer and closer. More and more of the advent calendar doors were open, festive food was being bought, presents wrapped, cards displayed. The weather was also getting colder, frost greeted us most mornings and everyone talked of snow. Despite the ache that now sat with me daily for Tiger, I couldn’t help but enjoy everyone’s festive spirit. I knew they felt as if it was the most wonderful time of the year and I tried to bask in their happiness even if I wasn’t going to ever say this was my favourite Christmas.

It couldn’t be, not without Tiger here. The thing was that, last year, when we went away to our holiday cottage in Devon for Christmas, I hadn’t seen her but I’d known she was there. And when we had returned home, we’d all been so excited to share our stories. She’d told me that she got extra turkey, some toys and a very fetching new red collar for Christmas. In return, I’d told her that we’d spent time with our friend Gilbert in Devon and, although the beach was freezing, we had braved it, and I’d managed to keep George out of the water this time. It was moments like these, sharing moments, that kept friendship and love alive, I believed, and so I was still sharing with her; every evening I had a chat to her before going to sleep. It was just very one-sided.

‘I can’t wait to see my friend Harold again,’ George said, hopping with excitement, as we sat on the windowsill looking out at the quiet street. Marcus was collecting Harold this afternoon, and Polly and Franceska were at his house now, getting it ready for his welcome-home party. We were both invited and I just hoped Harold wouldn’t tell us to get lost or wave his stick at us now. Apparently he wouldn’t, he’d told Jonathan that we were both welcome in his house after all. George was so looking forward to it; he’d taken ages getting himself looking his best, as had I. I was one cat who always took care over his appearance – even when I was heart-broken, I had learnt not to let myself go.

Claire returned with Toby and Summer and shortly afterwards the doorbell announced the arrival of Franceska, Tommy and Aleksy.

‘Meow?’ I asked as I greeted them. Where was Tomasz?

‘Tomasz is going to meet us at Harold’s later, he had to sort something out at work,’ Franceska explained as she petted me. But I think she was talking to Claire.

‘Come in for a bit, have a coffee. Boys, can I get you anything?’ Claire asked, as coats were shaken out and hung up.

‘No, we’re good, thanks,’ Tommy answered, shooting worried glances at Aleksy who was back to not talking. Franceska shook her head and followed Claire into the kitchen.

‘Where are you going?’ Franceska asked as Aleksy headed out to the back garden, carrying me for some unfathomable reason.