Felix The Railway Cat

The party of four was ushered into the communal announcer’s office – scene of so many station-cat brainstorming sessions – and the door shut tightly behind them. Peace, of a sort, fell. With the carrying case plonked firmly on an office desk, the team on duty gathered around, all excited whispers and prying eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of the station cat.

Chris and Joanne lifted the lid off the carrier, and each took hold of a squirming black-and-white kitten. Though the cats were used to being handled, having played happily for hours with Chris’s daughter and granddaughter at the Briscoes’ home, this was now a whole different ball game – and not a fun one.

‘Ouch!’ Chris exclaimed, as his kitten swiped at him with a well-aimed paw and those tell-tale ‘bramble’ scratches appeared on his hands. ‘Easy now,’ he urged. ‘It’s all right. You’re safe.’

Pam, from the booking office, was one of those present at the all-important handover, as her mum was giving a home to the shorter-haired kitten. She phoned her and said, ‘Come now, Mum. They’re here.’

They were indeed. Bright eyes cautiously flickered as the kittens took in the office environment, peeking out shyly between the fingers of the Briscoes’ hands. They had never seen anything like it before: computer screens glimmered and changed before their eyes as new trains came into the station and the programmes updated; microphones crackled and buzzed; and all around were things to climb and roll on: piles of paper, in-trays, filing cabinets and desks.

The team gathered round, cooing at the kittens and fussing over them. Chris had known he’d have no worries about leaving the kittens there, and he didn’t; if anything, the team were over-prepared for the arrival of their bundle of joy. Joanne and Chris smiled at each other as the kittens fidgeted in their hands. This was it: it was time to let the kittens go, to let them spread their wings and fly.

‘So we’ve nominated this one as the railway cat,’ Chris announced to the curious colleagues, nodding at the piebald fluff ball in Joanne’s hands: the biggest, fluffiest kitten of them all, just as Angie Hunte had wanted. ‘And, Pam, I believe you’re having this one.’

He handed the shorter-haired kitten over to the red-haired Pam. In the next few minutes her mum would arrive and whisk him away in her car. The kitten would be named Luther, and he would grow up to become a tall, elegant cat – sleek rather than fluffy – who would live with Pam’s mum and dad, together with another cat called Mo, in a house by a river, where there would be plenty of vermin on tap for him to catch. He became a character in his own right, and never again saw his terrible twin, with whom he had once spent so many happy hours playing.

Now, all eyes turned to the station cat. As Joanne gently stroked his fluffy black fur, so soft to the touch, his still-blue kitten eyes darted around, taking in the faces of his new family. They were exclaiming at his tiny size, his snowy paws, at the miniature proportions of his nose compared to his big white whiskers which took over his entire face. Those whiskers twitched as the kitten wrinkled his nostrils, taking in the scents of photocopying, various perfumes and brought-from-home, handmade tuna sandwiches … Hmm, the kitten almost seemed to think, pausing for a moment. Food. Now that smells good …

His on-alert ears took in all the sounds cascading around him. ‘Oh, isn’t he handsome!’ the team chorused. ‘Isn’t he just gorgeous!’ Their voices were like a torrent of noise, washing over the kitten and – at that moment – sounding about as welcome to him as a bucket of iced water.

Joanne bent and placed the little feline gently on the carpeted floor. ‘This is home,’ she told him.

Whoosh!

The kitten legged it. No messing. He darted straight under the computer table to safety, from where he could work out what the hell was going on.

Everyone in the room chuckled indulgently. There would be time enough for making friends, and for showing the new recruit the ropes. The Briscoes closed up the carrier with a satisfying click, ready to head back home.

But, before he left, Chris bent down and locked eyes with the piebald kitten who was now sitting comfortably under the desk. Chris knew what lay ahead for this cat: he was to become the new pest controller at Huddersfield station. He had a job with TPE, and so he was – to all intents and purposes – now a colleague.

A grin lit up Chris’s bearded face. ‘Bye for now,’ he said lightly to the little kitten. ‘See you at work on Monday.’

5. First Day on the Job

Gareth Hope quietly eased open the door to the announcer’s office and crept inside. Announcers didn’t work nights, so he wasn’t tag-teaming with anyone else – it was just him, slipping like a pale ghost inside the door, just before 6 a.m. His long hair swung around his ears as he turned at the doorway and surveyed the scene before him.