‘It’s a draw,’ Polly announced diplomatically.
‘Absolutely,’ Claire agreed, ‘they are all far too good.’
Thankfully the children all seemed to accept this. Summer and Toby’s pumpkins were placed on the front doorstep, with a lit candle in each – I warned George to stay away – so that Jonathan would be able to admire them when he got home.
As everyone said their goodbyes, Henry and Martha proudly clutching their pumpkins to their chests, they arranged to go ‘trick or treating’ the following day after school.
‘I can’t wait to go trick or treating,’ George said to me when we were alone.
‘Well, you know Claire said you had to wear a hat,’ I pointed out.
‘Yeah, I’m not pleased about that but at least they’re not going to dye me black,’ he replied. And I had to agree.
‘Oh, and George, no more eating the pumpkin.’
‘No Dad, it tasted really weird.’
Chapter Three
Even I had to admit to being excited. George had been unbearable today; he was so keen to go trick or treating, that from the morning he was badgering me about the time. It was a very long day until I bundled him off to find Tiger, telling him how much she would love to hear about the pumpkin carving and the evening ahead. It did buy me a little bit of peace and quiet and I would apologise to Tiger later.
What I was most excited about was the fact that when trick or treating we would definitely go to the new next-door neighbour’s house and hopefully meet them. Despite not having a costume or being given a specific role I would join them, as the other parents did.
While the children got ready upstairs, I groomed myself in the living room. I was sad that Aleksy, Tommy and Franceska wouldn’t be joining us, but the boys refused point blank to go on the basis that they were too old. Growing up was hard, but it was definitely difficult for parents, I knew that with George. They became more independent, needed you less, wanted you less even, which could be hurtful. It was something that I was having to learn to accept and Franceska and I were in a similar situation on this one.
The children emerged giddy with excitement. Toby was in a Spiderman costume and Summer was dressed in a black cape with a tall pointed black hat and a false nose. She looked a bit scary in a very cute way. George, being carried by Summer, had a little black hat on and he looked adorable. I was sure he would earn the kids extra sweets this year. Claire picked up the broomstick, and we all headed out to meet Polly, Martha and Henry.
All assembled, they decided to start at the end of the street. I was slightly disappointed by this. Edgar Road is a long road and it meant I would have quite a wait before we reached next door.
We approached the first house. Summer, Martha and George were all at the door, trying to balance on the broomstick, when it tipped and George fell off.
‘Yowl.’ He landed on his tail.
‘Martha, that was your fault!’ Summer stormed.
‘No, it was yours,’ Martha bit back, and Martha never got cross. Polly picked George up and petted him, Claire picked the broomstick up and as the girls glared at each other with their arms crossed, a kindly woman answered the door, and thrust sweets at them. They soon forgot to argue and were happy to get back on the broomstick. However, Toby took George from Polly and offered to carry him, which seemed the safest bet.
We crossed the street to a house opposite which was a real mess. The garden was overgrown, the house had peeling paint, and it looked sad, if it was possible for a house to look so. I saw Polly and Claire exchange a glance.
‘Maybe we should give this one a miss?’ Claire suggested, but the kids were already half way up the path. We all followed, reluctantly. There was a light on in the front room and Toby knocked on the door, George still in his arms. The children all stood expectantly on the front doorstep, discussing what sweets they might expect. A man came to the window. He was old, moving slowly. He looked out at us, then, to our surprise, he raised his fist at us, shouted, ‘Get lost’, and pulled the curtains closed.
‘Why doesn’t he want to see us?’ Martha asked, her eyes full of confusion.
‘Maybe he forgot to buy sweets. Come on, we’ve got lots of houses to visit,’ Claire chivvied them up. As we made our way back down the path I glanced back at the house. I didn’t understand why he didn’t want to see us either.
Finally, with weary legs – me – and full bags of sweets and chocolate – the children – we reached the house next door to us. I could barely contain my excitement as I waited with everyone on the doorstep. The woman who opened the door didn’t look sad, not like the crying woman I’d seen last night. She had short-ish blonde hair which fell over her face, and was tall and slim. She looked composed, smiling, her head tilted to one side questioningly as she stood in front of us.
‘Trick or treat,’ the children chanted.
‘Oh my goodness, Connie, come here,’ the woman shouted and the teenager I’d seen joined her at the front door.
‘Hi, I’m Claire and this is Polly.’ Claire beamed as the children held their bags out hopefully. ‘I live next door, Polly is down the road. We would have come round properly to introduce ourselves, but with it being Halloween …’
‘Hi.’ Polly held out her hand and the woman took it.
‘I’m Sylvie, and this is Connie. Lovely to meet you.’ The woman paused for a moment, then she said, ‘I’m sure I’ve got some chocolate inside, why don’t you come in for a moment?’ The children didn’t need to be asked twice, but Polly swiped George out of Toby’s arms and put him next to me on the doorstep.
‘Oh, who are these two?’ Sylvie asked.
‘Our cats,’ Polly and Claire said in unison. They both laughed. ‘You guys wait here,’ they said as they followed the children inside and the door was closed on us.
‘Oh well, Dad, I guess when they come out we’ll hear all about it.’
‘Yes.’ But I was impatient. I wanted to know about the new family, and the cat. And was there a man? Because we’d only seen Sylvie and the teenager. So many questions.
We waited patiently by the front gate and it wasn’t long before Polly and Claire and the children emerged. They were laughing and Sylvie was smiling.
‘Oh how sweet, your cats waited for you.’
‘They enjoy trick or treating,’ Polly said.
‘It’s funny, so different for us. My Hana is a house cat, she’s never been outside – but that was normal in Japan.’
‘Hana is such a pretty cat,’ Claire said, and I agreed from what I had seen.
‘She’s a Mikeneko, which is Japanese of course. Cat with a coat of three colours. The English name would be a tortoiseshell.’
‘But Hannah is an English name?’ Polly asked.
‘It’s actually H-a-n-a, it’s Japanese for flower.’
‘That’s lovely, a sweet name for a sweet cat,’ Claire said.
Bingo, I already had more information at my paw tips than I thought I would. A house cat, and what was Japan? A coat of three colours. Oh, this was most interesting.
‘Right, well we’ll see you soon. I’ll text and we’ll have that dinner,’ Polly said as she gave a wave. I was delighted, it seemed the women were already the best of friends. But how we were going to befriend a house cat?
Later, when the children were upstairs having managed to sneak a number of their sweets up there, despite being told not to, and Polly and Claire were sitting on the sofa with a glass of wine, I learnt more about Sylvie.