Alfie in the Snow

Polly opened the door and let us in and the warmth hit me first, followed by the light. No more gloomy interior, that was for sure, and all the lights worked. Walls had been painted a bright white, the living room furniture had been replaced by a nice sofa and one of Claire and Jonathan’s old armchairs. A coffee table sat neatly over new carpet and a bigger television hung on the wall. I ran to see the rest of the house. It was such a transformation. Still quite simple, but more homely. The kitchen hadn’t changed but had been cleaned up, the hallway carpet had been replaced, there was a small dining table at one end of the sitting room, overlooking the small, but tidy, back garden. I thought Harold would be very pleased, even if George was not.

They had even insisted on getting Harold a small Christmas tree, which sat in the corner of the living room. It was adorned with lights and baubles, and I saw George eyeing it up.

‘George, you cannot attack the tree before Harold even sees it,’ I said.

‘There is no fun in this house any more,’ he complained as he slunk away. I flicked my tail. Kids!

Claire and Polly supervised Matt and Jonathan hanging a ‘Welcome Home’ banner across one wall. Franceska got Tommy to help her with the food in the kitchen, which as usual looked delicious, and Toby, Henry, Summer and Martha played happily in the living room with George. It was heart-warming after what we had just witnessed with Sylvie. If only she and Connie would be part of this, I knew it would help them, but it seemed there was no way to win Sylvie around. She didn’t even seem to notice me, let alone allow me to charm her, and I had no ideas left. But I knew we would have to do something, we couldn’t go on like this. Not my poor Aleksy. But clearly dead things as presents were off the menu.

We were all lined up in the living room when Marcus texted Matt to say he was just outside. Tomasz had just arrived, with even more food, and as we all stood there Harold came in, with his stick in one hand and his son holding the other arm.

‘Welcome home,’ everyone cheered at once and as Harold’s eyes took in the scene they filled with tears. Oh no, we’d made another person cry today.

‘I can’t believe it,’ he said. My eyes widened; he sounded moved rather than angry. ‘I don’t know how to thank you for all of this. I’m such a cantankerous old man, I don’t deserve it, but I’m so happy to be home and what a lovely home it is. I don’t know how to thank you. And you …’

I almost ran in front of George as Harold slowly bent down. Was he going to hurt him? Instead though he gave him a pet. Wow, who was this man?

‘Thank you, clever cat, for saving my life, I’ll never tell you to “get lost” again.’ George purred and nuzzled into him, and I wondered where my thanks were. After all, I had gone and got the humans. I should have been used to being ignored by now, but you know, some appreciation would have been nice.

As they all crowded round Harold to show him the work they’d done to the house and then sat him down with food and a cup of tea, George, his new best friend, sat proudly next to him. I softened a bit. OK, so I was underappreciated at times but I had my George, so it was alright. And George needed any cheering up he could get.

‘And I have told Dad that I’m moving in here for a while,’ Marcus announced.

‘You don’t have to, son, and I’m sorry again about the whole divorce thing,’ Harold said. Being in hospital had really changed him.

‘No, we’ve put that firmly in the past where it belongs. Dad, I should never have let our row get out of hand. We’re family, so I’m staying at least until after Christmas and then we’ll see. I’ve arranged some home help for when I’m working, so you’ll be looked after as you should.’

‘And we’re going to pop in and see you as well,’ Jonathan said. He was quite fond of the old man; apparently they shared the same taste in football teams.

‘Oh, and I was thinking, we’re having a big Christmas this year, at our house,’ Claire said. ‘So why don’t you both join us?’

I felt like squealing; this was the sort of situation I loved, bringing more people into our family circle.

‘That’s so kind,’ Marcus said. ‘And if you’re sure we won’t be in the way, then we’d love to. I’m not much of a cook.’

‘He isn’t,’ Harold laughed. ‘He can burn water.’ Everyone laughed although I didn’t quite understand what that meant. It was a shame I couldn’t get Sylvie there, after all she and Marcus, well they were both divorced, both nice-looking, a similar age … Although one of them was insane. But then no one, not even me, was perfect.

‘You might have to bring a couple of chairs,’ Polly laughed.

‘Deal.’

‘Daddy, George is in the Christmas tree,’ Summer shouted and everyone moved at breakneck speed to find George sitting in the middle of the tree, a tangle of lights.

When he’d been untangled and sat back on the floor I went up to him.

‘What did I say?’ I chastised.

‘You said, don’t attack the tree before Harold sees it. Well he’s seen it now.’