‘Hello, Purdy,’ Jo called fondly.
Upon hearing her voice, Purdy changed direction, veering towards Jo with her tail aloft. She cast a slightly shamefaced glance at me as she passed the window, but was soon pressed against Jo’s legs, purring loudly as Jo rubbed the base of her tail.
‘So, what happened?’ Debbie asked, setting down two mugs of tea and taking the armchair opposite Jo’s. Jo sat back and Purdy immediately jumped up and began to circle contentedly on her lap. The fire in the stove crackled and its orange glow lit their faces.
‘When he woke up this morning, Bernard was struggling to stand. It was obvious that something serious had happened. I took him straight to the vet, who said it was probably a stroke and there was nothing she could do . . .’ Jo took a deep, shuddering breath and dropped her head, allowing her curls to fall in front of her face.
‘I’m so sorry, Jo,’ Debbie said sincerely. ‘He was such a lovely old boy. And so close to Christmas, too.’
Jo nodded and her shoulders started to shake. Debbie sipped her tea in tactful silence.
Eventually, Jo finished wiping her eyes with a tissue and reached for her mug of tea. ‘He was with me for fifteen years. That’s longer than my marriage lasted,’ she said, with a watery-eyed smile, caressing Purdy’s cheek with her free hand. They both sipped their tea, then Jo went on, ‘Actually, Debs, there’s something else I need to tell you.’ She leant sideways and shakily placed her mug on the table. ‘I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while,’ she said, and there was something heavy about her tone.
‘What is it, Jo? You’re worrying me,’ Debbie asked.
‘Well, the thing is . . . I’ve given up the lease on the shop.’
Cradling her mug of tea, Debbie blinked confusedly. ‘The shop? From when?’
‘From next month,’ answered Jo. Debbie’s lips parted and her brow wrinkled but, before she could speak, Jo started talking again. ‘The writing’s been on the wall for a long time, Debs – the shop’s been losing money for months. I’m cutting my losses before I get any further into debt. It’s better to get out now, while I’ve still got my head above water.’ She talked fast, as if she had rehearsed her words and wanted to get them out as quickly as possible.
Listening to Jo gave Debbie time to compose her face and, by the time Jo paused for breath, her friend’s appalled expression had been replaced by a look of sympathetic understanding. ‘I get it, Jo, I really do,’ Debbie said quietly. ‘I had no idea things were so bad. I mean, I knew business was slow . . .’
‘You weren’t to know, Debs,’ Jo insisted vehemently. ‘I’ve been telling myself business will pick up for over a year now, but after a point I realized I was just kidding myself and . . .’ She trailed off helplessly.
They sat in reflective silence, the only sounds in the room the crackling fire and Purdy’s sleepy purr. Debbie stared at her friend with fierce concentration. ‘If you need a job to tide you over, I could find work for you here,’ she said, her eyes shining hopefully.
‘That’s really kind of you,’ Jo replied, ‘but, well, I’ll be letting the flat go, too. It’s part of the lease.’
Debbie let out an uncontrolled yelp of dismay. ‘But where will you go? You can’t just give up your home and your business in one fell swoop.’
Jo took a long, fortifying breath. ‘Don’t worry, Debs, it’s all sorted. I’m going to move back to the farm. Dad needs someone to take over running the place, and it’ll give my finances a chance to recover.’
Debbie looked listlessly at her cooling cup of tea. ‘Why didn’t you tell me before? You must have been planning this for a while.’ She sounded hurt.
‘I’m sorry,’ answered Jo with a guilty look. ‘I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure. I knew that you’d try and talk me out of it. Besides, you’ve had enough on your plate recently, without worrying about my livelihood as well.’
At this, Debbie cringed. ‘I’m sorry, Jo. I know I’ve been banging on about my problems incessantly—’
But Jo lifted a hand to placate her, ‘Debbie, please don’t. This was just something I needed to work out for myself, that’s all.’
Debbie looked suddenly drained, as if she had only just realized there was nothing she could say to change her friend’s mind. ‘I can see it makes sense. But it’s strange to think of you . . . ’
‘Not being next door any more,’ Jo completed Debbie’s sentence for her.
Debbie’s eyes suddenly brimmed with tears and she turned away.
‘It’s less than an hour’s drive, Debs – I’ll be back here all the time,’ Jo said with a forced smile, although I could see her eyes were reddening, too.
‘But it won’t be the same, will it?’ Debbie whimpered, wiping her nose hastily on the back of her hand.
Jo shook her head. ‘I know. It won’t.’
Their sniffing punctuated the unhappy silence and then, from behind a scrunched-up tissue, Debbie said, ‘You know, it’s not too late to ask Linda to be your lodger.’ She glanced at Jo and gave a tiny shrug.
Jo sniggered and the room suddenly felt lighter, as if a weight had lifted from them both, and they knew the worst was over.
‘I’ll be back in Stourton all the time, Debs, just you wait and see,’ said Jo, blinking away her tears. ‘We can still have our weekend takeaways. Besides,’ she added, taking Purdy’s face gently between both hands, ‘I couldn’t last long without coming back to see the cats. With Bernard gone, I’ve got to get my cuddles from somewhere, haven’t I?’
That was when it struck me: an idea of such self-evident simplicity that I couldn’t believe it hadn’t occurred to me before. I sat up on the window cushion and fixed Debbie with a stare. She was looking at Jo intently over the rim of her mug and, in the dancing light from the fire, I thought I could make out the faintest trace of a smile around her lips.
I hoped and prayed she was thinking the same thing as me.
29
I rose before dawn on Christmas morning and slipped outside before anyone else was awake. The sky turned incrementally paler as I made a solitary circuit of the churchyard and, by the time I reached the square, the orange sun had peeped over the skyline to reveal a glittering frost on the rooftops. I sat beneath the elm tree and took a moment to enjoy the peacefulness of the scene, in anticipation of what I knew would be a hectic day. Sure enough, when I returned home, I climbed the stairs to find that the household had come to life during my absence.
A glance into the kitchen revealed the kittens, Jasper and Ming, breakfasting greedily from the food bowls, while in the living room Debbie, Linda and Sophie had gathered in their pyjamas to exchange gifts. I strode towards them with my tail aloft, pausing to look twice at Beau on the rug by Linda’s feet. He was dressed in a lurid green elf costume, complete with jester’s collar, faux buckle-belt around his belly and pointed hat. His face was a picture of abject mortification and, when he saw me looking at him, he lowered his chin miserably onto his paws, causing the tiny bell at the tip of his hat to tinkle.
Sophie was sitting on the floor by the sofa, happily engrossed in the instruction booklet for some new electronic device Linda had given her. Full of smiles, Linda stood up from the sofa and reached for a luxurious-looking gift box.
‘Now, I know we said novelty gifts only, Debs,’ she intoned grandly, ‘but I saw this and . . . well, I just had to get it for you.’
Narrowing her eyes in a look of mild scepticism, Debbie took the box onto her lap and lifted the lid. She hooted with amusement as she unfolded a kitchen apron covered from top to bottom in a lurid montage of cats’ faces, with the words Crazy Cat Lady printed across the front.