Molly and the Cat Cafe

Startled, I lifted my head to see Debbie dash across the now-empty café to greet a woman standing on the doormat. I knew immediately that the woman was not a regular Molly’s customer. She was wearing a faux-fur gilet, tight white jeans and high-heeled leather boots, and her blonde hair fell in bouncy layers around a face that was half-obscured by a pair of giant sunglasses. As Debbie reached her, the woman pushed the glasses onto the top of her head and smiled. ‘I was just passing and thought I’d pop in. It’s about time I checked out the famous Cat Café,’ she said, wrapping Debbie in a tight embrace.

‘Well, this is it. What do you think?’ Debbie replied, lifting her shoulders in a self-deprecating shrug.

Linda looked around, briskly surveying the café’s interior. ‘Very nice, Debs,’ she nodded approvingly. ‘I like it. Homely.’

Debbie glanced over Linda’s shoulder at the door. ‘Where’s Ray? Are you both up from London for the day?’ she asked.

‘No, no, Ray’s not here,’ Linda replied, in a tone that made Debbie look twice at her. ‘I’m allowed to visit my sister on my own, aren’t I?’ Linda asked, a touch defensively.

‘Of course you are,’ Debbie gushed, ‘I’m just surprised to see you, that’s all. Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?’

‘It was a spur-of-the-moment thing,’ Linda answered airily. ‘I just thought it’s about time I made the effort to come out here and see you – and Sophie, of course.’

‘Come on, let me get you something to eat.’ Debbie said, pulling out a chair and motioning Linda to sit down.

Linda shrugged off her gilet to reveal a clingy pink top and numerous necklaces draped around her neck. She picked up a menu card while Debbie stood beside her, patiently attentive. ‘Feline Fancy; Frosty Paws Cake Pop; Cat’s Whiskers Cookie – it all sounds delicious, Debs,’ she murmured, while Debbie beamed with pride. Linda perused the menu with a look of tortured indecision, before announcing, ‘I’ll have a Feline Fancy and a pot of Earl Grey tea, please.’

As Debbie bustled around the wooden serving counter and into the kitchen, a beeping sound issued from the bag by Linda’s feet. Frowning, she leant over, plucked a mobile phone from inside and began to tap rapidly on its screen. While she typed, I studied her from the window cushion, looking for signs of resemblance between the sisters. Everything about Linda’s immaculately groomed presentation seemed at odds with Debbie’s casual style, from the lacquered nails to her figure-hugging clothes and coiffured hair. I tried to imagine how Debbie might look if she put a similar amount of effort into her appearance, but my mind drew a blank. For as long as I had known her, Debbie had always prioritized comfort over glamour. On the few occasions she had attempted a more polished look, the episodes had ended with her slumped in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom, staring at her reflection in despair. ‘Oh, what’s the point?’ she had sighed, before tying her hair back in its customary ponytail and pulling on an old sweater.

Cheered by the last-minute arrival of a customer, my son Eddie padded over to Linda’s chair to sit expectantly at her feet, hoping to charm her for titbits. Linda was unaware of his presence, however, and continued to scowl as she scrolled across the phone’s screen with her thumb. Eddie, ever optimistic, raised a paw and patted gently at the leather tassel on her boot, making Linda jump in surprise.

‘Oh, hello, Puss,’ she murmured distractedly, leaning sideways to peer down at him.

Eddie gazed beseechingly at her, but Linda’s heavily made-up face remained blank. I exhaled impatiently through my nose. This lady, I knew with absolute certainty, was not a cat person. No one who loved cats would have been able to meet Eddie’s pleading eyes and not lower a hand to stroke him. Evidently, I concluded with a slight bristling of my fur, it was not just her appearance that distinguished Debbie from her sister.

A few minutes later Debbie emerged from the kitchen, holding a tray. ‘Here you go. One Feline Fancy and a pot of Earl Grey. Bon appetit!’ she said, carefully placing the chintzy teacup and plate onto the table. Linda smiled with delight upon seeing the cupcake, which was decorated with pointy cat ears and whiskers.  Debbie took the chair opposite her. ‘Have you got to rush off or can you stay for dinner? I’ll be done in half an hour or so,’ she said.

‘Oh, I’m not in a hurry at all – dinner would be lovely. I’ve . . . got a lot to tell you,’ Linda replied, before taking a bite of her Feline Fancy. ‘Oh, my God, Debs, this is divine,’ she added quickly through a mouthful of cake, lifting a napkin to dab her lips.

A flicker of alarm crossed Debbie’s face. ‘Is everything alright?’ she asked, a faint note of concern in her voice.