Holmes
Holmes, you truly are no gentleman!
Clara swept the tail of a furry conundrum off her facea creature that, by some quirk of nature, looked very much like a catand sneezed.
Good grief! Where have you been? Your whole tail is covered in cobwebs! I know Im not the greatest housekeeper, but this is ridiculous. Where did you find so much mess? And get off me, will you!
The cat didnt even twitch an ear. He remained perched regally on Claras pillow, gazing imperiously at his tousled owner. The tip of his fluffy ginger tail flicked and smacked Clara on the nose in taunting fashion, which made her yelp and very nearly leap to the ceiling.
Good morning, is it? Oh, just disappearall of you! I cant answer for what I might do otherwise!
The hamster, currently lodging with Clara as a favour for her teenage neighbour whose family was on holiday, darted into its house, deciding breakfast could wait, and a lazy ginger streak oozing onto the floor didnt so much as glance Claras way. The cat, rescued from beside the bins a couple of years backhalf-dead and skin-and-bonewas now transformed into a well-fed, thoroughly audacious tyrant who acted as an alarm clock, regardless of whether anyone appreciated it.
To be fair, today Holmesnamed, naturally, after Claras favourite fictional detectivehad a genuine reason to be so persistent. One look at the time and Clara gasped, sprinting toward the bathroom, realising she was running scandalously late forwelleverything.
Whats wrong with me?! Two alarms! TWO! And I didnt hear either! How is that possible?
She yanked open the shower door and turned the tap.
The ensuing howl was enough to let the hamster know lunch might be skipped todayand quite possibly dinner, toowhile Holmes poked a curious nose into the bathroom, freezing at the sight of his owner hopping and chattering her teeth on one leg.
What? No hot water again?!
A torrent of complaints followed, which the cat took in with lofty detachment, sporting the philosophical air only a brazen ginger cat could muster. In fact, his expression was enough to calm Clara ever so slightly.
Im going to have a little scream now. You justdont get frightened, alright? The waters freezing!
Holmes, of course, didnt reply. He leapt onto the closed toilet lidClara had trained herself to keep it downand sat, watching Clara boldly, which only soured her mood again.
Look away, you cheeky thing! Its called privacy! Just sat there, honestly
What followed was a medley of exclamations and muttershalf curses, half lamentsthat Holmes had long ago learned to ignore, having made peace with his current owners peculiar temper.
Once upon a time, hed been a bona fide pedigree catawards aplenty, his kittens almost worth their weight in gold, and his former owner proud to boast of him. But it didnt last. After one ill-fated show, Holmes fell ill for reasons no vet could fathom; all they did was order more tests, and his owner, in frustration, withdrew two of Holmes kittens from sale.
Back then, his name had been Hercules. The full name was a convoluted affair, never once pronounced properly at a showany attempt met with hopeless muddles, despite it being spelled out with accent marks provided.
And thenall at oncehis name, status and all other accolades stopped mattering the moment everyone realised Hercules would never father any more kittens. In theory it was possible, but no one would ever buy them now.
His owner did not take this kindly. Overnight, the adored show cat became a burden.
He felt it deeply, the night he wandered up for a stroke as usual, only to be met with, Not now, Herc, go on! instead of the customary Hercules, my joy! A few weeks later, the carrier came out, and he was sold off.
The young woman who came to fetch him had pink cropped hair and stretched out her vowels in a way that made Hercules instantly uneasy. She bargained hard, and soon enough he was shoved into the carrier, the owner unable to meet his eye or listen to that deep, mournful yowl from the pit of his soul.
He was taken somewhere far away, and once she tipped him out she announced, Any accidents and youre out!so, naturally, he caused a few: he had no desire to remain somewhere he wasnt wanted.
To give her credit, the new owner didnt evict him immediately. She even took him to the vet a couple of times, worried about his mishaps. But by sheer chance, shed brought him to the same vet who had attended to Hercules before, and when they presented her with his diagnosis and an estimate after the second visitwell, she nearly fainted.
How much?!
Before the evening was through, Hercules was back in the carrier and abandoned somewhere behind a wheelie bin, where Clara eventually found him by pure coincidence one blustery morning.
Shed been walking the neighbours excitable Bichon Frise, CleopatraKleo for shortwhose owner was ill. Spotting the untidy carrier, she was about to leave it alone, but Kleos barking became so shrill Clara moved closer. Its far too early for this! Whats got into you? Rat, perhaps?
Cleopatra made it plain she wouldnt bother with such a trivial creature, straining at the lead toward the carrier.
At Claras cautious here, kitty, kitty, there was no response. She was about to put the case back down, assuming the cat inside had passed away, when a tiny twitch of ginger tail made her shriek in surprise, her cry joining Kleos yapping.
Hes alive!
What happened next Holmes could never quite make sense of: how could a delicate-looking girl be so loud, so frenetic, so utterly odd?
First, she plunged him into a basin of water and scrubbed him until he squeaked, stripping away the very last of what once had been a luxurious coat. Swaddled in a giant towel, utterly stunned, he couldnt even protest, and when Clara presented him with some of Kleos dog foodborrowed very much without permissionHolmes looked at her with a flicker of interest.
What? Its stillwell, meat, or close as. If Kleo can eat it, so can you, I guess. Sorry, pal, but Im strapped for cash until Mum visits on Sundayspent my student loan already. Want to see?
Sitting cross-legged beside him, Clara launched herself up so abruptly Holmes nearly bit his own tongue in the fright.
Scared you? Youll get used to it! Things are always sudden, surprising and a bit odd round here, but youll adjust. Its not as bad as it seems.
She proudly showed him a pair of black stilettosher only splurgedeclaring, As Mum says, good for all occasions. Im beautiful and so are they. Dont look at me like that! Its not just my opinionMum insists, and I believe her. Shes never lied to me!
Just then, Holmes learned that the only real fib Claras mum had ever told her was that her father had been a pilot, lost at sea before her birthwhen, in reality, hed had nothing to do with aviation, being a hopeless Romeo and drinker whom her mum had once loved, but ultimately replaced with a decently encouraging tale for the sake of Claras self-esteem.
Oddly enough, when shed found out the truth as a teen, Clara wasnt bitter. After a bit of obligatory wailing she concluded she got along with just one parent well enough, since ones freedoms always seemed to get hemmed in from every direction in youththe fewer limits the better. With just her mum, that suited Clara fine.
Mum, its just us and thats all we need!
Her mother loved her deeplynot the suffocating sort where the child can barely breathe or step aside, but the warm blend of worry, kindness and the honest desire to give a child some grounding in life.
Her mums motto was, You want something? Go for it! That simple principle carried her far, from florists assistant to owning her flower business while expecting Clara, and it shaped Claras own choices.
She tried music school, played guitar, even sang, but her calling was veterinary workever since she was little, she couldnt pass a suffering animal without trying to help.
Claras mum had rescued everything from kittens and dogs to swifts and a lizard that lost its tail twicethe second time thanks (accidentally!) to Clara herself. Shed been about six when she announced she was going to be an animal doctor, and stuck to it, eventually earning a spot at one of the citys best vet clinics, though her constant lateness put her job in peril.
The discipline required for clinicsand the patience Clara drilled into herself at university (Do it all yourself, girl! No prince is coming! Do the hard work!)bore fruit.
Holmes didnt stand a chance. After months of care, he recovered. Clara marvelled at his tolerance as she shaved his paw to find a vein for his IV; Holmes, sensing hed finally found someone who cared, offered his limb willingly and never struggled.
He wanted to live again, for at last, he had a home. Each evening Clara wrapped him in a fluffy throw, scratching his ears and murmuring, Just hold on a bit longer, all right? Im trying my best. But I need you to try tootogether well get through. I wont let anyone take you away. Youre mine now!
The recovery took nearly three months. It wasnt until his short ginger coat began to regrow that he got his new nameHolmes. Clara was cleaning the windows, balancing on one foot, when she paused, glanced at him on the sill and mused, You know, you dont have a name
That evening, a council of sorts was held: Clara, her mother Anna, her fairly recent stepfather Peter, and the nameless hamster who was now, by default, her responsibility.
We need a name for the cat.
Clara was more serious than ever. Anna shot her a bemused glance, huffed a laugh, and finally burst out giggling. You called us all for this?
Mum!
Oh come on, Clara, I dropped everything and dashed across town just to name a cat? You are something else!
Let her be, Peter chuckled, hugging Anna and turning to Clara. Any ideas?
Not really. Hes juststrong, clever, not at all a nuisance. Knows his manners in the house, never makes a mess.
A regular gentleman, Peter grinned, reaching to stroke the cat.
Holmes already knew this man. Whenever Clara was off in London for extra training, Peter took care of himtidied the litter, refreshed his water, topped up the food, gave out the occasional smile and ear scratch.
Now Holmes nudged Peters palm approvingly, even rumbling a greeting.
See? Hes got excellent upbringing. What do you think?
Hell be Holmes! Clara decreed.
He soon adjusted to his new name. Sometimes he responded when called, sometimes not, but Clara never frettedafter all, he was a cat, not a dog.
In recent months, however, shed taken to calling him piglet, likely referring to his not-quite-gentlemanly antics. But what else could you do when Anna had gone to live with Peter, leaving Clara the flat? Clara, never deprived of freedom, now felt curiously burdened by its breadth. She would drift about the flat in the evenings with headphones on, trailing Holmes behind her, then flop down in the sitting room, hugging the cat and sighing,
You know, Holmes, Im ready to settle down now. Start a family, maybe. But where do you even find someone who wants that with me? Holmes, why do you think men never give me a second glance?
Holmes had nothing to saynot that Clara would listen, even if he could talk. She was too used to trusting her own judgement, oblivious to the admiring looks she drew on trains or buses, or to the clients who brought their dogs or parrots for check-ups just to catch another glimpse of her bright blue eyes and unruly curls escaping from beneath her silly cappatterned with laughing pugs, which Clara had chosen herself, eventually convincing the whole clinic to adopt the look. The boss gave her a small bonus for the idea, which Clara spent on a new bed for Holmes. She was outraged, though, when he preferred her lap instead.
And so Clara fretted, Holmes moped in sympathy, Anna worried for her daughter, and only the hamsterstill unnamedlived its little life in blissful ignorance, wishing only that the cat would leave him alone.
Holmes, truth be told, scarcely noticed the hamster. He was concerned about Claraher moods affected him so that he considered falling ill again just for her attention.
Clara did panic, of course, and hauled him off to the clinic for a blood test. Thats where they were hurrying to, with Clara still shivering from her ice-cold shower, hair a wild haystack, when she finally gave up on vanity, yanked her curls into a careless topknot, stabbed in a pencil (her hairpin having vanished under the sofa, chased by Holmes), and waved a warning finger at the hamster.
Admit everyone, release no one! We wont be long!
Holmes, nabbed by his scruff, yowled in protest, resisting all the way into the carrier.
Thats what you get for playing limp rag for two days! Off we go, villain! Do you think your vet bills grow on trees? I couldve bought half a car by now! Well, maybe just the wheels and bumper, but still!
Grumbling, Clara stuffed the cat into the carrier and dashed out, nearly forgetting to lock up.
The clinic was heaving with people and pets. Clara pulled Holmes out, said a quick hello to the team, and went through to the consulting roomwhere her day finally lost all hope of normalcy.
A sweet little tabby, waiting on the table for her check-up, transformed in a flash into a wild beast the moment she spotted Holmesbiting the vet, writhing out of her owners arms, and hurling herself at him.
Holmes, whose mood now matched Claras perfectly, was so surprised he didnt know what hit him. Prickly and annoyed, he simply boxed the flying cat with a mighty paw, grabbed her in a bear hug, and subdued her before anyone else worked out what was happening.
Blimey! A sturdy, cheerful chapevidently the tabbys ownergave an admiring click of his tongue. Thats a move and a half! Dyou think your cat might teach me that trick?
Clara, wrestling to separate the cats, was in no mood for jokes. She spun round so abruptly her pencil ponytail flew under the table and, preparing to lecture the joker, saw him gaping at her in wonder. Please, he whispered, tell me youre single!
Years later, in a small but lovely home at the citys edge, a familiar exasperated groan will sound:
Holmes! Not again!
Something small, soft, and unmistakably alive will graze Claras cheek, and shell slap a hand over her mouth to stop from yelling across the house. Her husband, eyes still closed, will reach out, gather her in, and ask,
Hamster?
YepOh good grief, when will this stop? Clara will struggle free, trying to catch the runaway hamsterpossibly the great-great-grandchild of the original, or at least some distant relationonly to be intercepted by a black blur thatll nab the hamster off the beds edge and tear out of the room, heedless of people and the imperturbable Holmes on the threshold.
Thats your cat!
And thats your hamster! Holmes has nothing to do with ityou owe him an apology.
Clara will snuggle closer, muttering, Still utterly bonkers.
What, the cat?
No, the family. Why must the cat bring me a hamster every morning?
At least its not mice
Oh dont you start! Theres enough wildlife already. Tell me, how does she manage to open that cage every morning?
I know, but you wouldnt look yesterday.
I was bathing the twins!
Exactlyand while you were busy, I discovered something about Holmes.
Oh? Whats he got to do with it?
Watch!
Clara will take the outstretched smartphone and soon be doubled up with laughter, seeing footage of Holmes lifting the cage latch with a pawfor his feline friend, who couldnt quite reachto set the hamster free, then watching the ensuing chase with the stony indifference of a Sphinx.
The ginger culprit at the bedroom door will suddenly perk up as Clara calls,
Youre awake now? Come on, then! Im getting up too!
And the big ginger cat will march importantly into the nursery, nudge the door wide with his paw, before the house rings with a hoarse, triumphant yowlechoed by the bright voices of twin boys.
Good morning! Clara will call, ruffling Holmes ears and grinning at her sons.
