‘I think I’ll go and see Hana, if that’s OK?’ George said. ‘After being attacked by a mad woman, then almost getting run over, I need cheering up.’
‘’Course.’ I felt guilty, it was my fault that that had happened at all. I tried to keep George away from danger but I had unwittingly led him to it yet again. ‘And remember when we’re walking down the street to give that flat a wide berth,’ I added seriously.
‘So you don’t think it’s worth trying to win her round?’ George asked. I wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or not. I wasn’t taking any chances though.
‘George, when Harold was telling you to go away he never threatened you with the cat warden or a bin bag did he?’
‘No.’
‘Right, so let’s not try to win her round, we might not come out of it in one piece. It’s not worth the risk, son.’
I was a very persistent cat, but, I had enough people in my life not to need one like that. I wasn’t going to take any risks with that woman. Oh no, she was definitely off my Christmas card list. Not that I had one, of course.
Chapter Eight
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Iwas still fretting about our encounter when I got home, leaving George to go next door. I felt a bit unsettled still– one of those moods where you don’t exactly know what to do with yourself. Do you go visit friends who might cheer you up, do you spend the time pondering why it is you feel so fed up? Or do you take a nap? I stretched. I decided to take a nap. I had been up very early after all. A nap it was.
I was shaken from my nap some time later with an almighty thud. I opened my eyes to find Pickles had jumped into my basket and was almost squishing me. He was quite a weight, let me tell you.
‘Pickles, it’s lovely to see you but please get off,’ I asked, as nicely as I could. He shuffled a bit so he was no longer crushing me but we were both still squashed up. He licked me.
‘Claire’s going shopping and she said you were in charge of me.’
‘Oh I must have been sound asleep because I didn’t hear her leave, or you arrive,’ I said.
‘You were snoring,’ Pickles said.
‘I don’t snore,’ I replied.
‘Well it sounded like it. Anyway, where’s George?’
‘I think he’s with Hana.’
‘Boring. So you’ll have to play with me.’
‘Right.’ I tried not to sigh. ‘So what are we playing?’
‘Ball.’
I was pleased with this. One of Pickles’ easiest activities – by that I mean one where he can rarely get into trouble – was ball. I would push a ball with my paw in the hallway, he would run after it, fetch it, and bring it back to me. He could play this for hours and although it was a little boring for me, I didn’t mind. It would give me time to think about the horrible lady at the end of the street, to think about Tommy, and to think about what I was going to do about it all. At the moment, I had nothing. Just hope that the talk Tommy had with Jonathan the other day would have an effect. That the woman at the end of the street wouldn’t be a problem if we kept out of her way. That Pickles would get fed up with playing ball before my paw really began to ache … Why on earth didn’t I hold out much hope for any of that? While Pickles was distracted with the ball, I jumped up onto the hall table, for a break. I noticed that there were various flyers with pictures of food on, and one which I knew was for a Christmas pantomime because Claire had put it there, saying that she needed to book. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but I did know it was some kind of show that happened every Christmas and the kids loved it. I wished for a moment we could go, but we were never invited.
‘Alfie, ball,’ Pickles said. And I jumped down. Sore paw or no sore paw, Pickles wasn’t going to let me off the hook for long.
Claire took Pickles out for a walk, and Snowball came to surprise me. Clearly I wasn’t going to get much rest today, not that I minded one bit.
‘I wasn’t expecting you,’ I said, nuzzling her.
‘Harold had some appointment and Sylvie’s taking him so I thought I’d visit.’
I filled her in about our near miss and also about Aleksy and Connie’s idea.
‘You need to keep away from that woman,’ she said.
‘I will and also when I have some energy I’ll warn everyone else about her,’ I added. ‘But let’s focus on Aleksy and Connie. They’re coming over later and they’ll probably be expecting an idea.’
‘Think about it, Alfie. Christmas, what does it mean to you?’
‘Ah, you are doing that thing Claire does. You know, brainstorming,’ I said.
‘Yes, I certainly am,’ she replied.
‘OK. It means nice food, family, friends, happiness, keeping George and Pickles away from the Christmas tree and the tinsel, presents, Santa, and everyone being together.’ I think I’d done a pretty good job of summing it up.
‘Right, so let’s try to get those into an idea. Being together is a good one.’
‘Oh I see, like if you get loads of people into one place to raise money.’ I suddenly felt excited as the ideas began to trickle into my brain. Everyone together. The community as a whole. Of course, that was what was needed. ‘Do you mean an event?’ I asked.
‘Oh yes, an event. Like the Christmas Nativity at school – everyone goes to that. In fact, the children love it and the adults do too,’ Snowball pointed out. ‘Although it’s usually done by the younger children isn’t it?’
How she was an expert on the Nativity, I didn’t know.
‘George told me about how the other year Tommy put him in a manger at the kids’ school Nativity and how he and you have been banned from going since,’ she explained.
Ah, that was how. But she was right, it was for younger children. But it didn’t have to be, did it? It wouldn’t even have to be at the school at all.
‘I’ve got it,’ I said. ‘How about a Christmas show for the community to raise money for the homeless shelter? What a brilliant idea.’ If I did say so myself. Although my fur fizzed with excitement at the idea, I was unsure how we would actually do it.
‘Wow, it is, although we might need a few more details,’ Snowball said.
‘No, what we need is to pass this idea to the humans and once we’ve done that they can come up with details. I mean, details are not what this cat should be concerned with. Gosh I still have it! I’m still an ideas genius.’ I did a little spin, I was pretty pleased with myself.
‘And as modest as ever,’ Snowball replied. ‘But you have to convey the idea to the humans now and you know that’s a whole other problem.’
‘Leave it with me, I’ll come up with something.’ I wasn’t going to tell her that I didn’t have a clue how to do that. I had got a bit carried away with talk of the show, and Christmas songs and someone being Santa and a part for me and George and even Pickles, Hana, and Snowball …
Now for the logistics. I needed to give them the idea of putting on a show but how? I started thinking, then had a flash of inspiration. I remembered seeing the flyer for the Christmas pantomime on the hall table, when I was playing with Pickles. And although I didn’t know what it was, I did know it was a show that happened at Christmas. So if I could somehow get her to link that to an idea for a show, it might just work. All I had to do was push the leaflet under Claire, Aleksy and Connie’s noses somehow. I hoped they didn’t think I meant for them to do an actual pantomime, because clearly someone was already doing that.
‘Aha, I’ve got an idea.’ I explained it. It didn’t sound like my strongest one when I said it out loud but, again, it was all I had.
‘It might work but it’s a long shot,’ Snowball said.
‘Honestly, you have no faith in me. I will make it work. It’s the best idea I’ve got anyway.’
‘Alfie, it’s the only one you’ve got,’ Snowball pointed out.
Ready to put my plan into action, I jumped up onto the hall table and meowed loudly, hoping that Claire would come to see what was going on. But when she finally came into the hall she was on the phone and she shushed me, walked into the living room and closed the door. I knew from experience that getting the attention of humans, when you wanted to show them something they needed to see, wasn’t always easy. I pushed it with my paw onto the floor and decided to stay with it, one paw on the bottom of the leaflet until she reappeared and noticed. But when she came out of the living room, she barely gave me a second glance before she dashed out of the house, saying she was late for Harold. So, was I going to wait there with the leaflet until she came back? No, I was not. I needed a new idea.