The Cat Share

Chapter 1

Jenni stood by the kitchen sink and filled up the kettle.

The morning was quiet and cool, but sunlight filled the small flat with the promise of a beautiful day.

Clicking the kettle onto its base, Jenni flicked the switch down and reached up to choose a mug from the shelf above.

She picked her favourite – the one with a colourful pattern in a cheery yellow – and set about making herself a cup of tea.

Just then, a repetitive thudding coming from the direction of the back door made her look up with a smile. As was usual at this time in their morning routine, Oscar, Jenni’s cat, was returning home from a night on the prowl. Also as was usual, the banging continued.

Jenni gave a sigh. ‘Oscar, just push open the cat flap. We’ve been through this before. You don’t need to keep hitting it with your paw.’

Oscar decided to give it a firm headbutt in reply.

Jenni walked over to the door and crouched down. She looked at the cat through the Perspex flap.

‘Look. You are a cat. This is a cat flap, there’s absolutely no reason why you can’t enter the flat via this specially made portal.’

Oscar fixed her with a firm stare.

Rolling her eyes, Jenni stood up. They both knew what happened next in this charade, and there was no point pretending otherwise.

Jenni unlocked and opened the back door, stepping back to allow the small tabby to make his entrance.

Oscar, making it clear that he didn’t know why they had to go through this farce every morning – surely she understood her role by now – strutted into the kitchen purring proudly and rubbing against Jenni’s legs.

Looking down, she saw he had something in his mouth: a faded Quavers crisp packet from the looks of things.

‘Lovely. Thanks for this, Oscar,’ she said, reaching down and taking it. She put it in the bin while Oscar, delighted to have done his bit for the environment, moved to phase two of their morning routine.

Knowing her place, Jenni set about getting him his breakfast, which he hungrily set about demolishing.

She often wondered how she had ended up with such an entitled cat, and realised it must have been something she’d done. Perhaps she’d given into his demands too easily and hadn’t given him enough boundaries.

Jenni made a note to consider this more at a later point should she ever become a parent, although this really wasn’t something she needed to worry about right now given her very single status.

She hadn’t been on a date for months and had no intention of reinstalling The Apps. She gave an involuntary shudder.

Tea made, she decided to sit outside to drink it, settling down on the rather rickety metal chair that stood next to the small table by her back door.

Pushing aside various gardening tools, labels and bits of string, she balanced her cup on the corner of the table and adjusted her chair so that it didn’t wobble on the uneven ground.

Jenni’s garden was city-small, with a paved area near the house and a tiny rectangle of grass that left room – just about – for a shed wedged in the far corner.

Flowerbeds lined the fences on either side of the square space and, as Jenni was lucky enough to live in a mid-terrace flat, she was surrounded on both sides by trees and shrubs, giving her – when the leaves came out – her own private haven, where she was hidden from the windows that looked down on her from the houses and the block of flats that backed on to hers.

At the moment, the garden didn’t look like much, but spring was around the corner – all the signs were there. The fresh copper red leaves on the old rose bush were beginning to unfurl, the tips of the tulip bulbs were pushing through the cold soil and next door’s cherry tree was lit with blossom.

Jenni loved her garden. When her ex-boyfriend Alex had left her, it had been what had saved her.

And Oscar too, of course. She’d read somewhere that planting a garden was about hope: hope for the future, hope that life would go on, hope that you’d be there to see the flowers when they finally came into bloom, and that had been true for her.

After he’d gone and she’d been left alone in the flat that was meant to have been theirs, it had been the digging, cutting back and sowing seeds that had allowed her, quite literally, to put down her own roots, and had made the flat feel like somewhere she could live, rather than four walls that reminded her of failure.

Now, enjoying the slight breeze, she listened as her street came alive.

She could hear that next door were up – windows were being opened, a radio was quietly playing – and on the other side she could hear Jo and Nick getting their bikes out ready to go for a ride.

He was a keen cyclist, and although Jo said she enjoyed the fifty mile cycle out to Kent each weekend, Jenni wasn’t convinced.

Leaning back with a contented sigh and feeling grateful she no longer had to go on the park run Alex was always so keen on doing first thing on a Saturday morning, she surveyed the garden.

The ivy growing up the fence needed cutting back, and there was always weeding.

She was going to give separating the hardy geraniums a go – Monty Don had made it look a breeze.

She decided not to dwell on the fact that her Friday night consisted of sitting on the sofa watching Gardener’s World.

And, as her mum always said, the plants had two options – to live or die. A rather harsh take on the whole nature versus nurture business, but her mum’s garden was stunning, so the tough love approach seemed to work – on the plants at least.

But for now, Jenni was content enjoying the feeling of calm. Weekends on her own had been hard to start with, but now she was used to filling the two empty days with activities that made her happy, although sometimes it was still hard.

This evening she was meeting her friend, Amy, but besides that she had no plans other than to wander to the street market to browse the stalls before heading back home.

The cat flap banged and Oscar appeared next to her, licking his lips, which, combined with the black patch of fur around his right eye, gave him a certain piratical appearance.

‘Oh, so the flap’s okay when you want to leave the house, is it?’ she said, as Oscar jumped on the table next to her. She stroked his grey and black stripes, and he purred as he nuzzled into her hand. ‘Ah, you’re a big softy, aren’t you, Oscar?’

Jenni gave him a last tickle under his chin before tucking a strand of her dark, curly hair behind her ear and standing up. ‘Right, where are my secateurs? I’m going to sort out that ivy, it’s gone bonkers and is growing over the shed window.’

Oscar stretched out in the sunshine, carefully lying on the secateurs that Jenni needed. He watched her lazily with one eye open as she searched for the missing object, and settled into a comfortable doze.

‘Here you go. One G&T with horrible cucumber for you, and a double with a very normal slice of lemon for me.’ Amy put the two glasses down on the table and flicked her blonde hair out of the way. ‘Right, now tell me what you’ve been up to.’

Jenni took a long sip of her drink. Her trip to the market had been particularly successful as she’d managed to pick up some catnip as a treat for Oscar. He’d love rolling around on it in a blissful state.

‘And then I got a big bag of popcorn from that really nice stall we like and headed home. Oh, I did have a quick look in Grace & Favour, but decided I really didn’t need another cushion.’

‘Impressive self-restraint, well done,’ Amy replied. ‘I’d love to just wander around the market, but sadly an accompanying toddler doesn’t make for happy browsing.’

‘No, especially when the toddler in question is George,’ said Jenni.

She loved her friend’s little boy, but she had to admit it wasn’t exactly restful looking around a shop full of breakable things with him in tow.

‘I’m still scarred from our visit to that café.

I don’t know how he managed to reach the china on that shelf. ’

Amy shuddered in reply. ‘We’ve never gone back. We hurry past it now in shame. I felt awful.’

This evening, they’d chosen a booth on the right-hand side of the pub, but they’d had to move as they’d realised they were sitting under a speaker and couldn’t hear each other over the music blaring out.

They were now tucked away at a table at the back, not too far from the bar.

The pub, the Dog & Duck, was an old favourite of theirs as it was a ten-minute walk from Jenni’s house and near the train station for Amy, so she had an easy journey home too.

The back of the pub was dimly lit, with small tealights on the bare wood tables, which were surrounded by mismatched wooden chairs.

The navy blue walls, covered in displays of brightly coloured vintage plates and old photos, made it a cosy space, and the staff were friendly and happy to leave them chatting at the table so they didn’t feel hassled.

‘What did you get up today?’ asked Jenni as she picked up the menus and handed one to Amy.

‘We spent the day in soft play hell. Thoughts of this drink have been all that’s got me through. And the joy of not having to do bath and bedtime.’

‘Simon is on duty, is he?’

‘Yes, and I’m allowed a lie-in tomorrow. Simon’s going to do the morning shift, hence the double gin. Anyway, let’s look at the menu and decide what to order.’

Jenni decided on the risotto as it was something she could never be bothered to cook for herself, while Amy went for the fish and chips.

The waiter, Thomas, took their order and hurried back to the kitchen before dashing off to serve another group of people that had settled in at the table next to them.