Chapter 26
Hello,
This is a bit of an odd note to write, but your cat has been visiting me – he’s very friendly! I wanted to reassure you that I’m not trying to steal him and to let you know he’s safe so you don’t worry if he comes home late.
It was Evie who had given him the idea.
As her mother had anticipated, Evie had had a lot of thoughts about decorating Fred’s house.
The practical brown wood stain left over from weatherproofing the fence had been dismissed immediately, and Evie had sent her grandfather back into his workshop to find something else.
When the duck-egg blue and the various shades of tasteful – or ‘very boring’, according to Evie – off-white had failed to pass muster, Ben had agreed to take Evie to the local DIY store to buy colours she approved of.
They’d finally found animal-friendly, child-friendly, non-toxic and goodness knows what else waterproof paint and, expecting Evie to pick pinks and lilacs, Ben had been surprised when she’d instead chosen lime green and a dark purple for the roof.
‘Do you think a cat would like these colours, Evie?’ Ben had asked tentatively.
‘Yes, I do,’ Evie had replied firmly, dropping the tins into the trolley.
‘You don’t think they’re… um, too bright?’
‘Cats don’t see colour like we do, Uncle Ben. Everyone knows that,’ Evie had informed him briskly. ‘They don’t see things clearly far away, either. So I’ve picked these colours so Fred will be able to find his new house easily.’
‘Ah, right. I didn’t know that, Evie. Thank you for explaining it to me.’
‘That’s okay.’ Evie had patted his hand patiently. ‘It’s not your fault you didn’t have the internet when you were growing up. Mummy doesn’t know anything either.’
‘Well, that’s not quite right, we did know things, Evie, we just had to go to the library and—’
But Evie had disappeared into the next aisle.
When he’d caught up with her, she was busy loading up the trolley. She’d found some toys and had decided Fred needed a water bowl too.
‘I think that’s enough now, Evie,’ said Ben, prying his niece’s hands from the trolley handle and taking charge. ‘He’s not even my cat, you know.’
‘I know.’ Evie had stood on the end of the trolley so that she could get a ride to the checkout. ‘But he needs water while he’s waiting for you, and if he gets bored he can play with his new mouse,’ she’d reasoned.
Ben had agreed that made sense, and besides, he knew better than to argue with Evie.
The following few hours had been spent painting Fred’s house.
Ian had left them to it, so Ben had spent the rest of the morning being bossed about by his niece.
Evie had had firm views on what should be purple and what should be green, and she was a harsh taskmaster – Ben had been royally told off for smudging the colours together.
When Evie had finally decided he could be trusted, she’d left him to get on with it while she’d started another project.
The paint had dried in a couple of hours and when they’d returned to the workshop, Evie revealed what she’d been working on: some dubious artwork, tastefully displayed in Fred’s new abode. But there had been one final touch before Evie could feel satisfied that the job was complete: a letterbox.
‘A letterbox? I don’t think cats get post,’ said Ben, washing the final streaks of lime green paint from his hands.
‘All houses have a letterbox,’ said Evie, firmly.
‘Okay, let’s give it a go. If I drill three little holes in a row, and then use a hacksaw to join them up, we can make a small letterbox. How does that sound?’
‘Good.’ Evie had smiled happily. ‘Then I can write teeny tiny letters to him!’
This is what had got Ben thinking. His dad’s cautionary tale yesterday had been playing on his mind – he didn’t want Fred’s owner to think he was luring their pet away, or to be worrying when Fred stayed out late, but he didn’t know where the cat lived.
He’d seen him hopping over the fence behind the communal gardens, but most of the time the cat was already waiting for him, staring in at him from the kitchen windowsill, so he had no idea what direction he’d arrived from.
So what if Ben wrote a note to Fred’s owner, and – and here was the genius part – used Fred to deliver it?
It seemed such a good idea, and his enthusiasm for the plan had stayed with him on the journey back to London, the cat house balanced precariously on his knees.
Unloading his bags from the boot after Penny had dropped him off home, he’d dumped them on the kitchen floor before placing Fred’s house outside his back door.
Then he’d found a piece of paper and although, feeling rather silly, had started to write a note, before being interrupted by a meow at the window.
‘Ah, perfect timing, Fred, I’ve got something for you!’ Ben pushed the window wider so Fred could come in. The cat rubbed his head against Ben’s arm and then jumped down to the floor to stare at the cupboard.
‘Okay, treat’s first.’
Now, with the cat curled happily on the stool next to the counter, Ben seized his moment. Rolling up the note tightly into a small scroll, he took a piece of string and threaded it through Fred’s new collar.
Fred opened one eye and twitched his ear in warning.
Ben soothed him with a tickle under his chin, and when Fred closed his eyes again, hastily tied the string in a tight bow.
Confident the note was securely attached, Ben retreated.
When Fred finally left to go home, he’d take the note with him.