Chapter 8
Noah turned off his Tesla and took a moment to look at the charming surroundings of the Purrfect Paws Rescue Centre and Boarding Cattery.
It was on the easternmost edge of Lower Brambleton, nestled down a beech-lined, single track, dead-end road that led by foot into the woodland beyond.
He’d wondered, as he’d driven further down the track, if Google Maps had been leading him on a wild goose chase, but as he was about to give up and ring the centre, the bend in the road had widened and revealed a charming single-level whitewashed farmhouse with a painted wooden name board swinging gently in the breeze.
Pulling up in the parking area, Noah had breathed a sigh of relief.
Locking the Tesla, he headed over to the front door.
He’d half been expecting an old-fashioned bell pull, so the Ring doorbell surprised him.
He figured, though, that a place like this would need something a little more twenty-first century if it was handling visitors at all hours.
He knew little about Purrfect Paws, besides the fact that his grandfather had boarded Monty there many years ago when Jack had still been up to travelling, and whenever Jack had talked about the sanctuary, and its owner, Mollie Wakefield, it had been with warmth.
As a result, Mollie had been Jack’s first port of call when he’d realised, to his heartbreak, that Monty wouldn’t be able to accompany him to the nursing home.
Noah had known Mollie since he was a boy, and they’d spoken several times on the phone since Monty had become a guest at Purrfect Paws.
Her obvious affection for the cats in her care had transmitted down the line, and in the early days of his loss, Noah had been grateful that Monty was in a safe place.
As the months had passed, though, Mollie’s messages had suggested that Noah needed to be thinking a little more about Monty’s future, and he hoped today to be able to address that with some certainty.
The front door opened, and the friendly greeting he was preparing to give Mollie paused on his lips.
There, standing in front of him, was the woman who’d been working at the pub last night.
The woman who’d been very free and direct about what she thought about people who dumped their animals in boarding centres for months on end.
He looked her up and down, feeling once again the unpleasant sting of her words, before remembering why he was there.
‘I’ve come to talk to Mrs Wakefield about a cat,’ he said, without preamble. ‘Is she about?’
The woman blinked once before answering, seemingly as thrown off by his presence on the doorstep as he’d been, seeing her on the other side of the door.
‘Oh, right. Mollie’s working at the shop this morning, but I can help.’ She looked beyond him, as if she was expecting him to have someone else with him. ‘We have to do some paperwork, but from what I’ve read in Mollie’s notes, it should just be a case of signing some bits and pieces.’
‘Fine,’ Noah replied. He paused before adding. ‘So, you work here, then? As well as at the Star and Telescope?’ That’s smooth, he thought. Talk about stating the bleeding obvious!
‘Yeah,’ the woman replied. She gave him a tentative smile.
‘I’m not sure I introduced myself properly at the pub, although you might have read my name tag.
I’m Bella. Bella West. If I’d known you were going to be coming over here this morning, I’d have filled you in a little more about the old chap last night. ’
She had a sweet smile, Noah thought. He’d noticed it the previous evening, and if he hadn’t overheard her conversation, he might have responded positively to that smile. The way it lit up her face, even when she was obviously uncertain about him, was something she didn’t seem to be able to hide.
‘Pleased to meet you.’ He stepped over the threshold and followed her through to the centre’s reception area.
‘I just need a sec to sort out the file,’ Bella called over her shoulder.
He observed as she rifled through the drawer of the grey filing cabinet sitting at the back of the small office area behind the reception desk.
He grinned to himself: most modern businesses didn’t keep enough hard copies of anything to warrant a cabinet, but he suspected Mollie was old school in that regard.
‘So, he’s had a bit of a rough time of it, as you know,’ Bella said as she flipped through the hanging files. ‘But it’s brilliant to know the future’s looking brighter for him. He’s a lovely old boy.’
Noah snorted. ‘I wouldn’t say that.’ Noah had been on the rough end of Monty’s claws a few too many times over the years.
Lovely wasn’t exactly the word he’d use to describe his grandfather’s old companion.
He noticed Bella’s look of surprise at his response, but before he could open his mouth, she’d responded.
‘Well, I know he’s been through the wars, but he’s an affectionate old thing.’ She looked put out that one of her precious charges had been dismissed so readily. ‘And I’m sure once he’s settled into his new home, he’ll give you and your partner many years of love.’
Noah blinked. ‘My partner?’
But Bella had her back turned to him once more as she pulled out the document wallet from the filing cabinet and began to rifle through its contents.
‘Ah!’ she said in triumph. ‘There they are.’ She brought the folder back to the reception counter and laid out the paperwork on the desk.
‘Mollie printed out the adoption papers after she had done the home visit so it should all be an order. All you need to do is sign this, bring in your cat carrier and you can be on your way with him.’
Noah’s heart sank. This woman was obviously under the impression that he was just going to reclaim Monty, pay his outstanding bill and be on his merry way.
He racked his brains to remember what he’d agreed to over the phone, and he was sure it had only been a meeting, a téte à téte to establish what might happen next with the cat.
‘Look, er, I think there’s been some mistake.’ He ran a hand nervously through his hair. ‘I can’t take him away with me.’
He watched Bella’s face fall before she replied. ‘Oh, don’t say you’ve changed your mind? He’s such a darling boy and he’s had such an awful time of it. Mollie seemed to think that signing today was just a formality, and he’d be off to his new home with you. Did she make a mistake?’
‘I wish it was that simple, but, unfortunately, it isn’t.
’ Irritation began to prickle at Noah’s skin as he found himself about to launch into a long justification for why Monty needed to stay here a bit longer.
‘I told Mollie on the phone when we spoke earlier this week that I wanted to sit down and discuss all options. I’m sorry if she thought that meant I’d be taking him off your hands today, but I’m not in the position to be able to do that right now. Things are… complicated.’
He met Bella’s gaze, and he saw a flash of irritation there. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said carefully. ‘But what options do you think there are? He’s been with us for months. You offered him a home and now you’re telling me you’ve changed your mind?’
‘Offered him a home?’ Noah echoed. ‘I didn’t offer him a home.’
‘Then why are you here?’ Bella shot back. ‘I mean, poor Brutus. He’s only just got over losing his eye, he’s had the all-clear from the vet, I’ve packed up his favourite blanket and toys and now he’s not going with you? What kind of a time waster are you?’
Noah couldn’t help but notice how her face flushed and clashed with her ridiculously coloured hair when she got cross, but it seemed she was genuinely upset.
He wondered if it was partly because he’d been so short with her the previous evening when he’d paid his bill, but he was so distracted by her obvious emotion, it took him a moment to register exactly what she said.
‘Hang on a sec,’ he said carefully. ‘Who’s Brutus?’
‘Oh, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten his name as well?’ Bella shot back. ‘He’s the cat you and your partner were all set to adopt. Who did you think I was talking about? The Queen of Sheba?’
The penny dropped. ‘I’m sorry,’ Noah said, rather stiffly. ‘But I think you’ve got me mixed up with someone else. I’m not here to adopt a cat.’
‘Then why are you here?’
Noah drew a deep breath, and not without a little satisfaction to finally have the upper hand in this conversation, he replied, ‘I’m Noah Hathaway, and I’m here to talk about my late grandfather’s cat. Monty.’