When he returned home from work, the cat had vanished.
Oliver was an unassuming sort of chap, never one for wild habits. On his 25th birthday, his parents gave him a flat in Bristolnot the whole thing, mind you, but they helped him scrape together the money for the first deposit on a mortgage. So Oliver began living alone for the first time, his life revolving quietly around his job as a software developer. He kept to himself almost completely.
To soften the edge of solitude, he decided to adopt a kitten. The little creature had a crookedness to her front paws. The family fostering her mother had planned to have the kitten put down, but Olivers heart went out to her, and he brought her home. He named her Lovely. Their companionship blossomed into a gentle routine; each evening, Oliver would hurry back from the office to find Lovely waiting on the stripy doormat, her paws tucked beneath her.
As weeks drifted by, Oliver struck up something with a woman from work. Her name was Edith, and she was not one for dithering. Their romance gathered pace, and within the space of weeks she had moved in with him.
Almost at once, Edith made it clear she disliked Lovely. She pushed Oliver to get rid of the cat, but he held his ground, telling her quite plainly that the little feline was dear to him. Still, Edith kept at it, saying the cat would never do. It spoils our image, Edith complained, people come over and theyre appalled by its strange paws. Torn between Edith and Lovely, Olivers affections tugged in opposing directions.
His parents, for their part, were unimpressed with Edith. They called her brash, said she lacked manners. His mother urged Oliver not to rush into anything permanent until he knew Edith better.
One day, Ediths parents came for tea. As soon as Ediths father stepped over the threshold, he let out a snort on seeing Lovely. What an oddity, he chuckled, and Oliver felt a rush of protectiveness. All evening, Edith and her father made sport of the cats looks, imagining wild schemes for where she might be sent away. Even Ediths mother joined the laughter.
The next day, after another long day at the office, Oliver returned home to silence. Lovely was gone. When he confronted Edith, she told him shed taken the cat to the vets and left her there.
Frantic, Oliver dashed off into the city, searching everywhere he could think to look. For five hours he wandered in a dreamlike dazestreets folding into one another, time melting awayuntil at last, he found her. There, on the cold tiles, Lovely purred in Olivers arms, safe once more.
Back home, Oliver told Edith coolly to gather her things and leave. He couldnt bear to look at hershe had become utterly repugnant to him.
The next morning, Edith quietly packed and slipped into the rain, head bowed. She never imagined a cat could matter more than she did. But Lovely and Oliver remained together, the quiet flat once again full of soft reassurance. And every evening, Lovely would greet him at the door, her peculiar paws folded beneath her chest, as though nothing at all had happened.
