The missing cat
Never underestimate the power of pets – even when it comes to finding love
Liz took a deep breath and rang the bell. ‘Yes? Can I help you?’ Peter looked grumpy, but that wasn’t unusual. ‘Sorry to bother you,’ she said. ‘Have you seen my cat? I’m moving and I don’t want to leave him behind.’
When Peter didn’t reply, she rambled on. ‘Usually, he comes the moment I call his name, but this time...’
He interrupted her. ‘He’s the big black and white cat, isn’t he?’ ‘Yes. That’s Tommy.’ ‘I’ll keep an eye out,’ he said, and closed the door.
Typical, thought Liz, as she walked away. No ‘good luck’ or ‘keep in touch’. Peter had moved there two years ago, after the death of his wife. Even though Liz’s house backed on to his, they’d barely ever spoken.
As she stepped through the door, her cat ran to greet her. ‘It was a good idea, Tommy, but it didn’t work.’ She sighed. ‘It’s the 21st century. It’s okay for a woman to make the first move, but I’m too big a coward.’
Tommy went over to the back door and meowed, asking to be let outside.
For a moment, Liz hesitated, but there was plenty of time before the removal van was due. Besides, Tommy always came running if she rattled his bowl.
‘Don’t be long,’ she said, as she let him outside.
Deciding to move had been hard, but it was time to move on and let somebody else cope with the garden. Her new home wasn’t far away, so she could keep in touch with all her friends. It would be sad not seeing Peter again, though.
She chided herself. Getting doe-eyed over a man at her age, whatever had she been thinking? She was 61, not 16. When the removal men arrived, Tommy hadn’t come back. She went outside and called but he didn’t come, not even when she rattled his bowl. It didn’t take long to find him. He was up a tree in Peter’s garden. That didn’t surprise
Liz. Tommy often spent hours up there, dozing or watching the birds, too lazy to try to catch any.
What did surprise Liz was that Peter was there, too, clinging to a branch with one hand and holding on to
Tommy with the other.
‘I tried to rescue him,’ he explained. ‘Now I can’t get back down.’
He looked very uncomfortable. His knuckles were white from gripping the branch. ‘If you let him go, he’ll come down on his own.’
‘Are you sure?’ asked Peter.
‘Positive,’ replied Liz.
The moment he let go of Tommy, the cat clambered down the tree and into Liz’s arms. ‘Hang on,’ she said. ‘I’ll take him indoors and then we’ll get you down.’
With the help of a ladder, the removal men soon had Peter back on safe ground.
‘He likes you,’ she said later. Tommy was curled up on Peter’s lap while they had tea. ‘I thought you hated cats.’ ‘Quite the opposite.’ He told Liz his story: ‘When my wife died, our cat left home. I never saw him again. It was so painful, I decided not to have any more. Sometimes Tommy pops round. Usually when I’m having fish.’
He fondled the cat’s ears and was rewarded with a throaty purr. ‘Sorry I was grumpy earlier. I’d been on the phone for hours, sorting out my car insurance. Are you moving far?’ ‘No.’ She told him about the bungalow and its smaller garden. ‘I’d best be going,’ he said, putting down his mug. ‘Thanks for the tea. I hope you’ll be happy in your new home.’
He was halfway through the door when he stopped. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you for ages, only we got off on the wrong foot.’ He took a deep breath. ‘What I’m trying to say is, do you fancy going out one evening?’
‘I’d like that,’ she said. She jotted down her phone number and gave it to him.
‘Great,’ said Peter. ‘I’ll give you a few days to settle in, then I’ll call you.’
As he left, the removal team appeared. ‘We’re finished. If you’re ready, we’ll be on our way.’
‘Go ahead. I’ll be right there,’ said Liz. On her way out, she picked up the cat carrier. ‘That was very clever of you, Tommy – pretending to get stuck up that tree. Salmon for you tonight.’
Then she closed the front door, ready to start the next chapter of her life.
‘Deciding to move had been hard, but it was time to move on and let somebody else cope with the garden’