Chapter 19
Noah’s night, after the animated discussion with Bella, was barely less fraught than hers.
Racked first by guilt, and then migraine, he’d made it back to Jack’s cottage, taken some meds and gone to bed, hoping that both things would have dissipated by the morning.
Eventually, after hours of tossing and turning, and brief periods of sleep interrupted by nightmares, he dropped off in the early hours of the morning, as the sky was turning grey with the dawn.
Well, he thought as he gingerly opened his eyes to the morning sun streaming through the curtains that barely blocked out any light, at least the migraine’s gone.
Noah huffed out a breath as he got out of bed.
This was stupid. He knew Marc was right; the decision was the simplest. Monty was a complication that just needed sorting out.
But as he had breakfast and caught sight of the ‘Bengals’ calendar on the wall of the kitchen, still reading the month that his grandfather had left to go into the nursing home, a wave of guilt threatened to wash over him again.
Shaking his head in frustration, Noah turned away from the calendar.
He was a grown man, for Christ’s sake! Why should he care two hoots about whether a cat that was long past its own sell-by date was pushed towards the so-called rainbow bridge a little sooner?
It wasn’t like Monty hadn’t had a great life.
He needed to pull himself together, sign the papers and get back to London.
He had three potentially lucrative house viewings tomorrow morning, where his real life was; he should stop stalling.
All the same, as he pulled the front door of the cottage shut and headed towards his car, he couldn’t help but glance at the apple tree in the front garden.
It was the last of what had once been a row of fruit trees, planted by the builders of the cottages, and stood tall and proud in the long front garden of the cottage.
The Tree Protection Order on that might prove an obstacle to a very quick sale, but that was something to worry about another day.
Noah remembered the hours he’d spent climbing it and sitting in its branches reading whatever action-adventure novels his grandfather had put on the bookshelf in the spare room.
Sometimes, Monty had even joined him, not sitting with him but staring warily down at him from the very top branch, where he’d stretched out like a miniature leopard, surveying his own savannah.
Monty liked to eyeball him closely, reminding Noah that while he might be a guest in the tree, it was his territory.
On reflection, Monty would have said the same about the whole house.
As Noah drove the short distance to Purrfect Paws, he was assailed by memories of Monty. The cat might not have been the most sociable, but he’d been a fixture for half of Noah’s life. Was this really the way for it to end?
‘Morning, love.’ Mollie’s gentle smile greeted him as he pushed open the door to reception. ‘How are you?’
‘Fine, thanks.’ Noah eyed her warily. ‘Is, er, is Bella here?’
Mollie smiled. ‘She’s doing the morning rounds. Did you want to say hello?’
‘Er, no,’ Noah stammered. ‘I’m, er, sure I’ll catch her a bit later.’
Mollie gave him a quizzical look. ‘I thought you were back off to London after this?’
‘Yes, I am.’ Noah shook his head. ‘Sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night.’
‘It’s a difficult decision, to say goodbye to an animal,’ Mollie said softly. ‘I can understand why you might be feeling unsettled.’
‘No, no, it’s not that. I had a migraine.’
Mollie’s brow furrowed. Noah rather got the impression that she didn’t believe him. There was a short pause before she reached for a manila document wallet on the desk and pulled out the relevant paperwork.
‘If we could go through a couple of things prior to your signature, that would be great.’
Noah’s heart sped up. So, this was it. He felt frustrated at his instant physical reaction at the sight of Monty’s euthanasia paperwork. He’d made the decision; there was no point getting upset about it now.
‘Sure, sure,’ he said hurriedly.
Mollie ran him through the specifics, and he noted them as if on autopilot. All he wanted was to sign and get out of there.
‘That all makes perfect sense. Thanks, Mollie.’ He reached for the pen that was attached to a long string on the front desk and swiftly scrawled his signature on the bottom of the second sheet of paper. He was that desperate for it to end, he didn’t bother reading much of it.
As he handed the paperwork back to Mollie, she nodded and he could see, despite her professional demeanour, more than a trace of sadness in her eyes.
‘Monty’s been a memorable guest here,’ she said.
‘I’ll miss him.’ She paused, before adding, ‘But I’m sure you and the family have come to a decision that’s best for you. ’
Noah was sure he wasn’t imagining the whiff of judgement in that comment, and he bristled slightly under her shrewd gaze. ‘Well, you said yourself that he’s very old.’
‘That he is, but age shouldn’t be a barrier.
’ Mollie shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Noah.
I’m not one to comment, but we will miss him here at Purrfect Paws.
’ Mollie popped the paperwork back in the folder and tucked it into the filing cabinet behind the desk.
‘Would you like to see him? I’m sure he’d be pleased to see you. ’
Noah drew in a long breath. ‘I suppose I should, really, since I’ve just signed his death warrant!
’ He instantly regretted his attempt at black humour as Mollie’s face tightened before she plastered on another smile.
He suspected that all residents of Purrfect Paws were regarded as a lot more than just ‘inmates’.
It must be impossible not to get attached to the cats in their care, impossible to retain some kind of professional distance, if Bella’s outburst last night was anything to go by, at least.
‘Come this way.’ Mollie came out from behind the desk and led Noah through the side door to the cattery end of Purrfect Paws.
As they walked, Noah wondered where Bella was.
He felt a prickle of unease, as if she might suddenly jump out from one of the doors that marked the different areas of the sanctuary and start telling him off again.
He tried to hush those thoughts and concentrate on seeing Monty. Monty was the important thing, now.
He was surprised to see that Mollie had some empty enclosures at the moment.
‘It’s kitten season, so we’re usually rammed, but we sent a couple of residents to their new homes this week,’ Mollie said, by way of explanation when he asked.
‘Although I’m sure they’ll be full again in a day or two.
’ Noah could see a teenager cleaning out the empty spaces as they passed, plugged into AirPods as she worked.
‘We’re lucky to get weekend volunteers from the local Sixth Form,’ Mollie added. ‘The Duke of Edinburgh’s Award scheme has been very helpful for us, over the years.’
Noah smiled. He got the sense that Mollie’s chatter was a way of trying to put him at ease. ‘It’s good that you get that help.’
Finally, they approached Monty’s enclosure.
Noah’s ears pricked up as he heard low singing coming from behind the door.
A sweet, gentle voice, so pitch perfect that it didn’t need any accompaniment.
He paused, listening keenly for a moment or two.
Mollie, who was in front of Noah, also paused, an unreadable look on her face.
‘Monty’s got a visitor, love.’
Noah’s stomach flipped at Mollie’s words. A visitor who’d signed off to end his life, he thought, before firmly pushing that idea to the back of his mind. He mustn’t be influenced by anything now, especially not Monty himself. What was done was done. And it was going to be done.
Standing to one side as Mollie opened the door to Monty’s pen, he caught a glimpse of the last person he wanted to see. There, on the floor gently waggling a catnip fish on a string over Monty’s rolling, happy body, and singing to him sweetly, was Bella.