Molly and the Cat Cafe

Immediately there was a loud clattering, as the first bottle toppled over and knocked those around it, which in turn dislodged some small plastic pots and a wooden cup full of make-up brushes. In a matter of seconds half the contents of Debbie’s personal toilette had rolled off the dressing table and bounced across the bedroom floor. The cacophony had the desired effect. Debbie threw the pillow across the bed and sat bolt upright, her hair sticking to one side of her face.

‘Molly, what on earth are you playing at?’ she shouted angrily. I jumped onto the bed and stood across her legs, meowing in the most commanding tone I could manage. Debbie leant over and switched on her bedside lamp, looking at me irritably. ‘Molly, what is it?’ I jumped down from the bed and scratched at her bedroom door, looking at her over my shoulder. She sighed and swung her legs over the side of the bed. ‘This had better be good, Molls.’

I ran down the stairs to the landing. Debbie followed at an infuriatingly slow pace, pulling on her dressing gown as she stumbled sleepily along the hall. I ran to the end of the hallway and waited for her at the top of the stairs to the café. As she got nearer, Debbie noticed the piece of plyboard lying on the floor.

‘Molly, where do you think you’re going? You’re not allowed down there,’ she said sternly. I walked over the plyboard and placed one foot on the first step, trying to entice her to come after me. ‘Hey, Molly, I said you’re not allowed down there.’ She moved along the dark hallway and bent down to scoop me up. As she was about to lift me off the floor, she stopped. She stood up straight and sniffed. ‘Oh, my God, is that gas?’ she said, suddenly alert.

She raced past me down the stairs past me and I heard her run into the kitchen below.

‘Oh, my God, the gas is leaking! What do I do?’ she shrieked.

As I ran after her into the kitchen I saw that the pool of water underneath the boiler had spread across the kitchen floor. The air was thick with the pungent smell of gas, making my throat constrict and my eyes water. Debbie was standing in front of the boiler, one hand over her mouth in shock.

‘Windows!’ she shouted, and ran to the back of the kitchen to throw open the windows onto the alley. Then she grabbed the key to the back door and opened that too. She ran past me into the café and did the same in there, and soon the cool night breeze was blowing from the cobbled street in front to the alley at the back. Debbie stood by the kitchen door, swinging it back and forth by the handle, to increase the flow of fresh air into the room. The smell of gas quickly began to disperse, although the ominous hissing sound and the dripping of water onto the kitchen floor continued.

‘Sophie!’ she exclaimed suddenly. She closed the kitchen door and stood for a moment with her hand on the key, looking uncertain. ‘Door open or door shut, Molly?’ she asked me desperately. I chirruped helplessly, wishing I knew which was the correct answer. ‘You’re right, Molly. Better to leave it open. You’ll watch out for burglars, won’t you? I’ll just be a second.’ I stood dutifully by the open door while Debbie sprinted through the kitchen, then took the stairs two at a time up to the flat. I could hear her shouting as she ran along the hallway, ‘Sophie! You need to wake up, sweetheart. We’ve got a gas leak!’

A few moments later Debbie came tearing down the stairs again, a dishevelled Sophie staggering sleepily behind her. Sophie screwed up her face as the smell of gas hit her for the first time.

‘Right, everybody onto the street,’ Debbie ordered.

‘Are you kidding, Mum? It’s freezing out there. Can’t we just wait inside?’ Sophie protested.

‘Sophie. In case you hadn’t noticed, we have a gas leak, which could not only be poisonous, but is also highly flammable. No, we cannot wait inside.’ Debbie bustled Sophie through the café door and out into the cobbles. ‘Come on, Molly, you need to come with us,’ she said impatiently, as I stood in the middle of the café twitching my tail. ‘Molly! Come on!’ Debbie shouted, her patience wearing thin. She dashed back inside and tried to put her arms around me to lift me up, but I wriggled and twisted out of her grip. As soon as I had struggled free I ran back towards the stairs. ‘Molly, what are you playing at? You need to come outside!’ Debbie had never shouted at me like this before, but I was not about to let her anger deter me.

‘She wants to get her kittens, Mum,’ I heard Sophie say from the street. ‘She doesn’t want to leave them upstairs.’

Debbie groaned. ‘Oh, of course, the kittens.’ I could hear the exasperation in her voice.

I started to creep stealthily up the stairs, knowing that, if necessary, I could carry all the kittens to safety without her help.

‘Okay, Molly – fair enough, but we’ll have to be quick. Sophie, you stay there and don’t move.’