Alfie the Doorstep Cat by Rachel Wells

Author:Rachel Wells [Rachel Wells]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2014-09-14T16:00:00+00:00

I was asleep at Claire’s, on her sofa in the living room. I wasn’t necessarily banned from sleeping on the sofa, but Claire did try, nicely, to encourage me to use my cat bed. However, the evening sun had been streaming through the window, making the spot I settled on deliciously warm and pretty irresistible – just what I needed after a difficult afternoon. I’d come home from Franceska’s house feeling hungry. I’d played with Aleksy for hours but there had been no sardines, no drink, nothing. Franceska hadn’t been as cheerful as normal; she seemed distracted, and although I tried to spend a bit of time with her on her own, she didn’t seem to notice me. I felt a little bit upset at being ignored. I knew that humans had problems, but that shouldn’t be an excuse for ignoring me – after all, I was there to help her when things were difficult! And there was no sign or sound of Polly and Henry. They returned home just as I was leaving, along with Matt. He was pushing the pram and she seemed a little bit more relaxed for once, but they were deep in conversation and they didn’t seem to notice me. It seemed I had become invisible to the adults of the number 22 flats.

And that was just the start of it. As afternoon turned into evening, things got worse.

Claire had been at home getting ready to go out, so although she had put some cat food and milk out for me, she didn’t have time for a chat, or any affection at all. She seemed very happy, and preoccupied with getting dressed up. She was wearing a very nice black dress and she put some high-heeled shoes by the front door. I’d never seen her wear heels that high, not even for work. She also spent ages on her hair, and putting lots of stuff on her face.

When she had finished, I didn’t think she looked like my Claire any more.

‘Alfie, don’t wait up, I’m going out with the girls,’ she said, smiling, but she didn’t pick me up or stroke me; she probably thought I would mess up her dress with my cat hair. As if I would! I felt a little hurt again, although I knew it was selfish as I wanted her to be happy, so I tried to be glad for her. But I didn’t purr or even raise my whiskers for her when she left; I really did feel very down in the mouth.

Bored and a bit lonely, I went to Jonathan’s but there was no sign of him. He hadn’t come back from work it seemed, and he hadn’t left me any food either. My empty breakfast dishes were still on the floor, just as I’d left them. Although I had still had enough to eat, I felt a bit disappointed, not just in the lack of food, but also the lack of attention.

It made me realise that cats always need to have their wits about them.

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