I was accustomed to a solitary life in my modest flat. My companions were two grey cats, gifts from my neighbour when they were kittens, and I always had someone to chat tomy neighbours, who Id known for decades since we all moved to this small, industrial English town overshadowed by smokestacks and factories. My flat was once a little paradise, lovingly tended with my wife, but as the years wore on, age crept over both me and the flat.
Pipes became rusty, the boiler dripped, the floorboards splintered right beneath my gaze My daughter didnt notice these things at first. It was only after a while that she recognised the complaints of an old man as gentle hints that perhaps I was thinking of moving out.
Why dont you stay with us this winter? Go back home in summeritll be grand, she persuaded.
My daughter had long been married; her children studied abroad thanks to her husbands parents, and she and her husband saved up for holidays and nice things. I decided not to cause them any trouble and agreed to move in. My daughter insisted I pay for nothingin fact, she wanted me to save up for sprucing up the flat this summer. I was all for it.
But my son-in-law wasnt. From day one, he treated me as though I were some weight thrown across his shoulders. Leaving for work, he muttered angrily that Id dared to cook yet hadnt wiped the hob spotless; when he returned, he wasnt pleased that Id eaten dinner alongside them.
He cant chew properly! You can hear him smacking his lips through the doorway. Its maddening!
Hush, please, my daughter pleaded, Dads got dentures, so its bound to sound like that.
Well, let him eat when Im not around! my son-in-law barked even louder.
My daughter started bringing food to my room. She acted kindly and tried to smooth things over by telling her husband Id fixed the cupboard doors and helped with the television while he was out, but her husband just grew more furious, accusing her of spinning tales and claiming I was uselessotherwise, Id have sorted my own flat out ages ago.
Lately, his rage peaked when he walked into the bathroom and was met with the scent of cat litter.
These cats are intolerable! Their litter is everywhere! This is why we never let our girls have petsso why should old folks be treated any differently?
There was no way I could abandon those cats, who meant far more to me than my son-in-law ever had. When my daughter was out, I packed up my things, rang for a cab, and returned home. I played the past weeks over in my head as I rode, fretting that now Id be hated, feeling my blood pressure surge. I felt ill. The drivera young fellowresponded instantly, pulled over, helped me find my tablets, and fetched a bottle of mineral water from a nearby shop. He listened to my story before I got out.
Thats awfully harsh, what they did to you, he said. Do you live at the address were heading to? My wife and I are around there too. The houses arent greatthe roof leaks
When we arrived, he wouldnt take a penny. He told me to save it for groceries. That evening, as I popped out to the shop, I met him again. He bought me a few bits for the larder, and we started chatting about repairs. It all happened so dreamily: we agreed, somehow, that we could help one another out. Im handy with a toolkit; he is too. I can help with wallpapering or tilingI did the bathroom myselfand he can help with floors. I dont mind paying him, so long as people are decent and I dont take advantage of their goodwill the way my son-in-law did.
It felt as if the town swirled above us, chimneys curling into the sky, my home softly groaning with age, but somewhere in the mist of the evening, kindness flickered quietlyan unexpected turn in the dream, grey cats curling around my ankles, young hands making things right.
