Simone
Well, what have we here? Whose are you, then?
I crouched down by the door of my flat. The cat hissed, arching his scrawny back and fluffing what was left of his tail.
Fierce one, arent you! Im impressed. Look, mate, I just want to get inside. Ive come from work, Im starving, and I need my bed. But whereve you come from?
The cat jerked at the sound of my voice, tried to swat me, but his aim was off and it just made me smile, watching as this tough customer tried to get up from the doormat.
Having trouble with your paws? Im not sure I like the look of you. I sobered up a bit. Somethings not quite right. Youre mangy, skin and bones pitiful Hey! Cant I even take pity on you? Im being nice here!
The cat must have had just enough strength for one last attack: he latched onto my shoe and hung on, growling softly, unable to do more.
Right. Well, old chap, how about I feed you? My mum always used to say a hungry friends not to be trusted, and she was a clever woman. Shall we listen to her, eh?
Peeling him off my shoe, I scooped him up, dodging his claws, though by now he didnt even try to scratch. Instead he slumped like an old rag in my arms and even stopped hissing.
Poor thing. Lifes been hard on you, I see. I grabbed my keys and let us in. Come on, then. Since youve come this far.
The flat greeted me with its usual dusty silence. I never liked coming home. Mum was gone, and rattling around in a big three-bed all by myself made me want to howl at the moon. Id shut up the master bedroom and lounge ages ago, lived mostly between my own room and the kitchen or bathroom. I hardly bothered to clean anymore whod mess it up, anyway? Out of habit, though, Id always do my washing up straight after I ate. Mum taught me that.
I missed her dreadfully. She wasnt just my mum, she was my best mate. The only person I could tell everything. It hadnt always been like that, but in the last years she was the closest Id ever had.
Dad left us when I was thirteen. That was rough. He wanted nothing to do with me; he had a new kid in his new family. It sent my world spinning, and all my anger and disappointment, I took out on Mum.
She put up with it. She comforted, supported, even once sat with me and stroked my damp hair when I came home drunk, quietly crying next to me. Thats when I realised the person I blamed wasnt the one at fault. The only person who truly needed me was right there.
That began a long, hard journey to making peace with myself, my mum, the whole world. Even then, the one who understood it all best was still beside me.
Mum
Itd only been half a year since she died, and I still couldnt accept she wouldnt meet me at the door, wiping her hands on her apron, wrapping her arms round my neck, making me bend down so she could kiss my forehead part affection, part temperature-check or ask:
How are you? Hungry?
Id have given anything for that again. Even just a moment, to turn back time
But she was gone, and I never really had the chance to say goodbye.
When the ambulance took her away, coughing so badly it frightened me, it didnt cross my mind it could be the last time I saw her. I realised too late.
Wed both fallen ill at almost the same time, for all our precautions masks, gloves, hand san, all that. But I got it much worse. My fever lingered, my head throbbed, I could barely think. Mum called the ambulance for me, but they wouldnt take me.
Young man. Hell be fine. Nothing critical. Besides, hospitals no better. Wait it out. Give it a couple of days. See how he goes.
And Mum never left my side, tending to me through sleepless nights, giving me jabs and pills on the dot, quietly forgetting herself.
I improved, and she collapsed. Now I had to look after her. I tried, but it soon became obvious something was wrong, so I rang the ambulance again. This time, they didnt hang about.
Its serious. Were taking her.
I never saw Mum again.
A little while after, when the forty days had passed, I found a letter from her in the bedside table. She always preferred pen and paper over gadgets, wrote letters the old-fashioned way. She didnt have many people, just her sister and a couple of friends in other towns, so sometimes shed write to me:
I find it easier to say what I feel on paper, son. Talking, I always trip up and say things wrong. On paper, Ive got time to choose my words.
I kept all her letters. Never had the heart to reread them, but I carried them with me. The last one, though, I knew by heart:
She knew me inside and out, sometimes better than I knew myself. She knew my girlfriend, Emma, would leave sooner or later. She knew the despair would be so great Id think I couldnt go on, and warned me not to do anything silly.
Jack, my darling, take care of yourself! Youre my legacy. While you remember me, Im still here. If your children remember, Ill live even longer. They probably wont know me, but youll tell them, wont you? Let there be children, eh? Little ones like you were cheeky, stubborn. I loved it when you banged your spoon on the table demanding porridge, or shoved my hands away saying, I can do it myself! then broke your nose and came running for a hug.
That stubborn streak, when wed argue and youd refuse to turn off the computer, then come ask for forgiveness, telling me you loved me to the moon and back May you have all that, too!
Dont deny yourself a future because of anyone. Build your own! Youll find happiness for yourself maybe with struggle, but trust me, its worth it. If Emma stays, then thats your fate. But I dont think shes the one for you. Youre good together now, but you know theres something missing. It isnt love, just attachment and convenience. Shes content for now. Sometimes that grows, I dont rule it out, but I hope you wont despair if she thanks you for everything and moves on. Let her go. Dont bear a grudge. She gave you her time value it, and value other peoples time as your own. If someone spends their time on you, you matter to them. Think how much of your time youre willing to give and give what you can. Dont squander it, gift it. Then youll know youve done things right.
Mum was spot-on. Emma left me two months after she died.
She didnt leave me straight away. She stayed, helped me through the hardest days, then quietly slipped away
She hadnt been there when we were ill. Emma was with her parents, and couldnt get back. When she finally managed, she held my hand and didnt let go as I struggled to come to terms with losing Mum.
Even when she left, she did it with kindness. Remembering Mums words, I managed not to let bitterness take over. We parted amicably, but it didnt make it any easier.
I blamed myself, I blamed Emma, I even blamed Mum for leaving me so soon. I blamed the world that the pain wouldnt go away, even for a moment.
I went to work, did what I had to, bought groceries, sometimes tried cooking. Cooking, though, never went well. Most of it ended up in the bin and Id make tea in Mums mug, sit out on the balcony, looking at the city at night, wondering what to do.
Maybe thats why the strange, cocky stray cheered me up a bit. At least it was something to focus on, something alive, instead of spiralling back into regrets.
The cat perked up the second I put a saucer of milk in front of him. He turned his nose up at a sausage I found in the fridge, pawing at it like he was burying rubbish.
Oh, come on, dont like that, eh? To be fair, I wouldnt eat it either. I chucked the rejected meat and crouched down, watching him lap up the milk greedily. Enjoying that? Sorry, its all Ive got for now. Youre welcome to stay
Even I was surprised by my offer. It was as if I was watching myself from outside my own body.
We were both strays. Me alone, unwanted, ignored by everyone but my aunt, who lived miles away and hadnt seen me since I was a boy. And the cat, with no home or person who cared.
We make a pair, dont we I gently stroked the cats bony back. He didnt bite, just shivered slightly, accepting a touch hed forgotten.
The milk gone, the cat looked up at me, clearly hoping for seconds.
He got them. But as soon as the second helping was finished, he astonished me: headed straight to the hall, parked himself by the door, and started yowling.
Guess gratitudes a bit much to hope for, eh? I shrugged, but my mood dropped. Just when Id gotten used to someone else in the flat, he was off to who knows where Maybe thats always the way for me? My fate, as a character in Mums favourite film used to say.
Go on then! I opened the door, shooing him into the corridor. When youre hungry, you know where I am. Therell always be milk here.
He didnt look back, just trotted off down the stairs.
Didnt even say goodbye
I shut the door, eyeballing it as if it would explain something. Another evening alone How many was that now? Too many to count. I could go out more, meet up with friends I was allowed now. But I just didnt want to. Since Mum died, Id realised how people even the closest ones could disappear into their own lives, forget about you like youd never been there. Not a single call apart from Emmas.
She rang now and then, asked how I was. Id say, Fine, and that was the end of it. I knew she was getting married her new fiancé far better set up for life than me: good job at a big firm, house in the country, the lot. I understood she chose her own future. That was right, really. You only get one life.
I sat on the balcony, sipping cold tea, thinking it was time to pull myself together. Enough hiding away in the shadows, enough moping. Mum wasnt coming back, my clock was ticking, and if I didnt seize time now, itd pass me by. I didnt want to be left with only other peoples windows, their bright lives, cold tea and the chill in my heart until it just stopped one day
The summer air played with the curtain, which had long needed a wash. Outside, I heard teenagers in the courtyard, fumbling at a battered guitar. Sighing, I made my way to the kitchen to rinse my mug. I was about to turn on the tap when I heard something strange.
A scratching sound, oddly unnerving, coming from the hall the darkness making it seem worse. I smiled wryly; Id always been afraid of the dark as a child. Mum bought two nightlights one for the hall and one for my room.
Whats wrong, Jack? Theres no such thing as a boogeyman.
The nursery nurse said he takes naughty children.
Well, youre not naughty, are you? Youre a very good boy!
Why did I remember that now?
Because the boogeymans come! I muttered, flicking on the light and heading for the door.
The scratching was desperate, like something demanding to come in. I peered through the peephole, but it looked empty.
Oh dear, losing my marbles now I joked, but opened the door all the same. Id already experienced my lifes worst.
The cat whod been scratching stumbled as the door opened, but quickly regained balance. Then, businesslike, he grabbed a kitten by the scruffthere on the doormatand dragged it inside.
Well, would you look at that!
I bent down and took the kitten from him. It wriggled, feeling human warmth, and let out a loud squeal.
Hang on you werent a tom at all, were you? Youre a she! I eyed the busy little guest circling my feet. And what am I supposed to do with this lot?
The cat now obviously a mother had no interest in my confusion. She spun round and darted down the stairs. I didnt even have time to react before she was gone again.
Brilliant! And your baby? Whereve you gone now?!
The answer came soon enough another round of frantic scratching brought me swiftly back to the door as she arrived with another mewing bundle.
By the third kitten, I just gave up and sat on the stairs, waiting. I knewsomething had changed in my life, though I couldnt say what. But it made me smile for the first time in too long.
The kittens wriggled in my hands, prodding my palms with their noses. I watched them, stroking their tiny heads and laughing at their sticky-up tails.
The mother cat returned with number five and sat beside me, staring as if expecting an answer to a question she neednt even ask.
What?! I shivered a bit under her honey-coloured gaze. You reckon just because youve dropped this lot on me, Im supposed to look after them now?
She blinked, and I could swear she smiled. Then she stretched, strolled back inside to inspect her new home.
I gathered up the kittens and followed her.
She strode through the hall, peered into my room, batted at this and that with an air of distaste, then headed to the kitchen.
I get the message! I set the kittens down and fetched a saucer. Ill clean up, dont worry! Weve got little ones to think of now. And for you let me see
Mums old shopping basket was just perfect. A soft scarfGod knows where it came from, Id worn it as a sick child when Mum did those horrible compresseswent in as a bed.
The cat watched as I sorted the place out for her kittens.
Like it? Will this do? I edged the basket closer; she pressed her brow to my hand, accepting the gift, then hefted her kitten in and settled down.
There we are! Get comfy! Im off to bedup early. Oh! Nearly forgot!
I laid out a plastic tray by the basket, lined it with napkins since I had no newspaper, and realised just how clever she was. She did her business very neatly then hopped back to her snoozing kittens.
Good girl! Wish I knew your name just calling you cat feels wrong. Did your owners give you a name?
She watched me in silence.
Fine, then. Well decide. What about Tiddles? Or Duchess?
She screwed up her nose and hissed.
Point taken! Not that, then. Ill work on it. Forgive me if I get things wrong Ive only had hamsters and fish before, never a cat. Bear with me.
She looked so dignified it reminded me of Mums favourite odd little song one she played often. Catchy tune, words that stuck in your head for hours.
Simone! How about that?
She listened, said nothing.
I took it for agreement, turned the light off, and went to bed. For the first time in ages, I wasnt scared to be alone in my own flat.
In the morning I woke to someone gently tickling my cheek, breathing in my face.
Emma
A piercing feline yowl answered me.
The cat was sitting by my pillow, looking at me as if to say, Get up, or else. I realised I now had someone a bit like my mum shed always be there to make sure I didnt oversleep and miss things.
Thanks!
I reached out, worried shed mind. But she butted my hand, then jumped off the bed, clearly wanting me to follow.
I smiled all day. Now I had someone waiting for me at home. For the first time since Mum died, I wanted to come back. There was work to do Simone made it clear she wouldnt tolerate a mess. And with a nursing mother in the house, Id need better food to hand. Milk alone wouldnt do.
The vet I took Simone and her brood to on my next day off nearly dropped his pen.
Young man! You cant leave a pedigree in this state. Look at her shes in a shocking condition!
Shes pedigree?
Yes! Shes even chipped. We can check her owner details. Thats not you, is it?
No. She showed up on my doorstep like this. No idea whose she is. What about the kittens?
Theyre the result of their mothers indiscretion. Their dads certainly not a purebred, but just look at them! Marvellous! Im not one for mismatches, but nature knows best.
Simone sat quietly as the kittens were examined. She couldnt explain shed once lived in a lovely flat with a young woman.
Her first owner had been given her as a birthday present with a pink ribbon around her neck. Shed cuddled Simone a bit, taken a few photos, then forgotten her, busy with her own life. The housekeeper raised her; sometimes with a mop, sometimes with a broom. It wasnt long before Simone learned people werent always kind. And she learned properly the day her owner brought home her boyfriend. He took a dislike to cats, and at Simones first slip, he grabbed her by the scruff and hurled her out the fifth-floor window, not caring what might happen
Simone survived. She landed in the garden bushes, which broke her fall. She couldnt remember how long she lay there, hadnt a clue what had happened. By evening she dragged herself to the entrance, waiting until someone let her in. She searched for her flat longer still. For over two days she wandered, sniffing doorways and crying, until she finally spotted the housekeeper, locking up. Joyfully, Simone ran to her, only to get a sharp kick for her trouble.
Off with you! Had enough of you! Always making a mess! Go on, clear off!
What happened next, Simone never really knew. Someone just grabbed her, stuffed her into darkness, carried her away somewhere and dumped her out of a bag next to the bins: Thats where you belong!
But she didnt stay there. Too scarycars, dogs everywhere. Eventually, she found safety in a warm, dark cellar.
After that came many things: her first mouse, an insistent tom, her kittensthen Simone knew it was time to change something. She ate little, slept less, afraid to leave the kittens unattended. But needs must, if she starved, so did the kittens.
Thats when she went searching for a home.
I wasnt the first door shed tried. Shed been turned away by everyone else no one wanted a bedraggled, bony cat.
She came to me already bitter, sick with worry for her kittens, barely able to stand for hunger. No wonder she hissed and lashed out what else could she do?
But I understood That was new for her: shed learned that no one in this world cares for anyone else, and if you cant fend for yourself, dont expect help.
She didnt trust me right away. She still patrolled the flat anxiously when I was out, but in time began to accept affection when I got home, bringing a treat.
The weeks went by, the kittens thrived, and Simone settled in.
She never knew Id rung her old owner, who simply hung up, flatly refusing to take her back. No pets here! Dont call again!
So, after that, Simone and every one of her kittens belonged to me.
Nor did she know what shed given me something Id sorely lacked: certainty that I still mattered to someone.
And soon, in a short year, those kittens would go on to new homes, rehomed reliably by me. And one of those kittens would one day return, along with a kind girl whod agreed to care for Simones son.
That girl would have warm hands and, when Simone tested her, would respond with the perfect blend of patience and humour.
Simone would finally approve, realising her Jack thats me would be all right, given only to gentle hands who knew not to hurt.
And one evening, when a now-fully-grown kitten tried scratching the new sofa, Simone would bop him, then leap into my arms as I sat with my wife on the balcony. Four warm hands would stroke her as we talked quietly. And then, at something whispered in my ear, Id start and Simone would purr delightedly, knowing the news that the one whod become her whole world was about to become a dad.
Time, at last! May there always be more love in this home! And may Jack soon have kittens of his own. After all, if he could shelter those stripey bundles and love them, surely hes earned some of his own, to be the happiest, most beloved in the world. And Simone, shed help bring them up.
