Felix The Railway Cat

Everything they did that week seemed to be for the last time. The last time Gareth would kick her brown bear down the corridor for her. The last time she would join him on a security check. The last time he would offer her the microphone and she would turn her head away contemptuously, as though to say, ‘You’re the one who does that job, sonny. Don’t expect me to lower myself to your level: I’m the railway cat.’ He couldn’t believe he wasn’t going to be seeing her, day in, day out, for eight hours a day. He knew he could – and would – come back to visit, but they would never again have the same close connection.

In the six months Felix had been at the station, she had transformed his working life. With Felix there – no matter what else was happening that day, whether the trains were cancelled or he was in trouble with Paul or simply not enjoying the company of his colleagues for whatever reason – he could enjoy Felix’s company; he could sit in his office with his cat and everything was fine. The other members of the team felt the same: ‘She’s my favourite colleague as she never complains,’ one had confessed to Gareth. ‘She’s just another member of the team, but easier to work with than most.’

‘She’s brought a lot of good feeling to the station,’ Angie agreed.

At the end of every shift that final week, Gareth would try to get a cuddle from the cat. He knew how special she was, and as he faced up to life after Huddersfield, he felt a certain amount of pride that he had been so closely involved in bringing her to the station. All those posters and pitches had been worth it. There might not yet be bouncy tarmac on the platforms, or slides where the stairs should be, but there was a station cat, and that was an incredible legacy to be leaving behind. It felt meaningful.

Friday, 6 January 2012 arrived far too soon. As his last-ever shift at Huddersfield drew to a close, Gareth completed his rounds of the station, bidding farewell to his colleagues in the booking office and the concourse. He and Andy parted with a long, warm handshake.

‘Don’t forget the little guys,’ Andy told him – in joining the team at Control, Gareth would be making decisions that would affect the station staff.

‘I won’t!’ Gareth promised. The two friends grinned at each other, their sadness at parting tempered by the fact that their roles would require them to remain in regular contact. Nevertheless, their flights of fancy would never quite reach the same heights as they had at Huddersfield.

With an increasingly heavy heart, Gareth walked back into the announcer’s office, ready to pick up his bag and catch his train home, which would be leaving in the next few minutes from Platform 1. Martin was there, to take over the next shift, as well as Angie and Angela – and of course Felix too – ready to see him off.

‘Right, then,’ Gareth said brusquely.

He bent down and picked up his constant friend, Felix. Used to these nightly cuddles goodbye, she didn’t realise: this is the last time. But Gareth knew. He felt suddenly tearful.

Felix, sat in his arms, raised herself up on her back legs and put her two front paws on his chest. They stared at each other, green eyes into blue, then Gareth took her paw and shook it, formally, as he took his leave of this most special of colleagues.

‘Goodbye, little cat,’ he said, and was surprised to find that his voice cracked as he said the words. Behind him in the office, Angela Dunn started crying. Gareth didn’t know what else to say to Felix – there weren’t the words to tell her what she meant to him, how much she had helped him, how she had given him the courage to believe in himself again. ‘Thank you,’ was all he said, and he found that those big green eyes of hers swam slightly, as his own flooded suddenly with unshed tears.

There was a soft clunk as the office door closed: Angie Hunte, saying nothing, having no words either, just ran out of the office and left them to it. But the door being opened let in another sound: the arrival of Gareth’s train. As its doors chimed, he knew he had to run.

He squeezed the cat in his arms one final time, kissed her on the head, and put her down gently on the floor of the office. There was just one last opportunity to give her a rub behind her ears – she leaned into his hand, as if squeezing him back – and then he ran and got on the train. There came the beep of the closing doors, the lurch of the engine and then, as he sat in his seat, staring blindly out of the window at the station he knew so well, the train pulled unstoppably away, taking him from Felix; from his friend.

There was no shame in it, Gareth thought, as he gave himself up to the tears. This was simply what happened when you found you had to leave a cat like Felix.

16. On the Night Shift

‘What are we going to do tonight, Felix?’ Angie Hunte asked the not-so-little-anymore black-and-white cat.

Felix looked up at her, as though she completely understood Angie’s words.

‘Are you coming with me?’