Childminder in Bragernes available. Non-smoker. Good with kids of all ages.
For sale: two-seater sofa in brown leather, slightly worn, bargain buy.
Yoga course starting now. Beginners and Intermediates.
Have you seen Pilate? Green parrot missing since January.
Alvar kept on reading. The noticeboard was completely covered with scraps of paper and he realised that he would be unable to tear himself away until he had read every single one of them.
Home-made griddle cakes and marzipan horns made from traditional recipes. We bake to order.
Bric-a-brac needed for charity sale on the 20th.
Fancy singing in a choir?
Alvar took a step back. No, he did not fancy singing in a choir, absolutely not, he had no talent for singing. The thought of mingling with so many people was also quite impossible for him to entertain. Then he stepped forward again and read another note.
Free kittens. Four females and one male, house-trained and ready for collection.
And then a photo of them, five tiny fluff balls in a basket. Alvar felt his heart beat tenderly. A cat, he thought, I've always wanted a cat. But I have never done anything about it, it's embarrassing. A cat could look after itself and it would offer him silent companionship, precisely what he was looking for. True, a cat was a commitment, but he had only himself to look after and he had plenty of spare time. It was also true that he had absolutely no clue how to care for an animal, but he would learn by doing. And there was a veterinary surgery only ten minutes' walk from his house where he could get all the help and guidance he needed; in case the cat fell ill or required injections. A cat, soft and warm. A cat slinking around his flat, a cat lying on his sofa purring. A cat sleeping at the foot of his bed at night.
Maybe. He kept looking at the photo. He liked the grey one the best, but he was adamant that he wanted a torn. If the grey one turned out to be the torn, he would get it. If they had not already found new homes for them; there was no date on the note, it could have been up there a long time. There was both an address and a telephone number. Haugestad Farm in Frydenlund. It was ten minutes in the Mazda. There's no harm in looking at them, he thought, I can go there to see them and then give myself a few days to make up my mind. But to have a cat. Someone to chat to, someone waiting for me, when I come home from work. And if I worm it then I'll avoid those disgusting regurgitations that I was so repulsed by as a child. He stood for a while looking at the small fur balls. They would probably need a few bits and pieces, it occurred to him. A basket to sleep in, toys. Vitamins. He pondered this for a long time. Then he snapped himself out of his trance and started walking home.
He let himself in and put his shopping on the kitchen counter, then he went over to wash his hands. That was when his doubts resurfaced. A pet ties you down, after all. If he wanted to go to Copenhagen for a weekend, for example, he would not be able to do that. Not that he had ever spent a weekend in Copenhagen, but if he wanted to one day, then the cat would have to be left on its own. But of course there was always Green downstairs. True, they never really spoke, but it was surely acceptable to ask his neighbour to please put some cat food in a bowl and top up the water over the weekend. Green's teenage children would do it for him, he was convinced of that. A cat, he thought, that would be bouncing around happily, it would be a joy every day.
He took the meatballs out of the bag, placed them on a plate. He put the plate in the oven. Now the seed had been planted it gave him no peace at all. To top it all the cat was free, so it could not be deemed an extravagance. He was so excited he ate his food in record time, carried his plate to the kitchen, rinsed everything off and went to the bathroom. There he washed his hands and combed the small semicircle of hair with a fine-toothed comb. He took his car keys from a hook in the hallway and left. He wondered if the Mazda would even start, he did not drive it very often. Sometimes he started it and let the engine run for fifteen minutes so it would not stop working altogether.
He got in and turned the key. Heard the engine splutter to life. He was ready to go. He pressed the accelerator, but it was not enough. He turned the key again, revving the engine harder, and finally the engine started to hum. He sat in his seat for a while waiting for the engine to warm up. He had no complaints about his car. The Mazda had never let him down. Then he drove out through the gate and onto the road. A cat. If they still had any left. Perhaps he should have phoned in advance, it occurred to him, but there was always someone around on a farm. He turned left at the light-bulb factory, found the right lane and kept an eye on the traffic behind him in his rear-view mirror. He considered himself to be a good driver. He always drove slightly below the speed limit just to be on the safe side, and he always drove defensively. He had the fjord on his right, it was blue grey in colour and there were ripples in the water caused by the evening breeze. His heart was racing. If they had no more kittens left, he would be terribly disappointed. Because now, halfway through his life, he was finally ready for this event. He had no trouble locating the farm and swung onto the driveway. Stayed in his car and looked around. A dog came padding towards him, it looked like a setter. A woman appeared in the doorway; she waved. Then she leaned against the door frame expectantly. Alvar stepped out of his car. He started walking towards the whitewashed farmhouse.
'I'm here about the cats,' he said, 'I saw the picture of them in the Cash and Carry. But perhaps they've all gone?'
She smiled broadly and gestured to him.
'No, don't worry, I've still got some left. Do come in. Come on, in you come!' she said warmly and opened the door wide. Alvar walked slowly up the steps. They shook hands and he was ushered into a warm farmhouse kitchen with a long table, a fireplace and curtains with colourful pelmets.
'I've got three left,' the woman said, 'they're all over the place; you see, they're already nine weeks old. But why don't we go into the living room and see if we can find them?'
He followed her. Noticed an adult cat on a chair. Curled up next to her were the kittens. Dear Lord, Alvar thought, how tiny they are. How fragile.
She picked up a black kitten with a white chest. Alvar remained standing, fiddling with his fingers, not even sure that he had the courage to hold it. He could see himself dropping it on the floor out of sheer fright. The woman put the kitten on the table and it staggered around. Its tail was short and stuck right out, and its eyes were blue.
'And then we've got the grey one,' she said, lifting up another one. Alvar recognised it from the photo. 'It's a torn,' she said, 'the only one in the litter. Which do you prefer?'