Catherine opened her eyes. The lounge was hazy with early morning light. Her neck was stiff and she was cold. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and saw that the blanket she’d pulled over her on the sofa was on the floor. Next to her, Bob was still fast asleep with his little chin resting on his paws, his tail curled between him and Catherine.
She smiled and gently ran a hand over his fur and he wriggled in response.
Then she froze…
Because she couldn’t move her right leg. She peered down at it, wondering why it was completely numb, and when she saw the fluffy ginger cat lying on it, she knew why. She’d let the cat come in last night and it had clearly settled in well.
She eased her leg out from under the cat then waited for the feeling to return before getting up and going to the kitchen. She put the kettle on then opened the French doors and went out into the garden. Birdsong and the scents of the flowers in the pots and beds filled the air. Bob loved the walled garden where he was safe to lounge around and, when he was a kitten, to play as he chased butterflies and bees. He was such a big part of their life and she was so relieved that he was home. He’d been a friend, a housemate and a precious companion. And now he had brought a friend home.
Catherine knew that her mother felt the same about Bob and telling her was that he was home safe would be a huge relief, although she wasn’t sure how Diana would feel about his new friend or if she’d let the cat stay. Diana had gone to bed thinking that Bob was still missing and Catherine hadn’t wanted to wake her.
A high meowing made her turn and smile, because Bob and his little friend clearly wanted some breakfast.
‘He does seem very fond of her,’ Diana said.
Catherine and her mum were sitting on the garden furniture that afternoon, both watching Bob and his friend as they groomed each other. They’d established that Bob’s friend was female earlier that day.
‘When I saw that he’d brought her home last night, I couldn’t turn her away. He never goes out the front way anymore, so it’s as if meeting her was meant to be.’
‘I’ve always said I wouldn’t want another cat, but looking at them now, I do hope she can stay. It’s like she’s given him a new lease of life.’ Diana smiled.
The phone started to ring inside.
‘I’ll get it,’ Catherine said, as she got up.
She returned to the garden a few minutes later holding the phone with her palm covering the mouthpiece.
‘It’s Aunty Jane. Shall I tell her you’re in the bath?’
That was the usual routine if her mother’s sister ever rang. Catherine would ask if her mother wanted to speak to Jane, her mother would say no, then Catherine would make some excuse up and Aunty Jane wouldn’t ring again for a month.
Diana took a deep breath, closed her eyes, opened them and looked across at Bob and his friend again then shook her head. ‘No, it’s okay, love… I’ll speak to her.’
Catherine bit back her surprise.
‘Are you sure?’
Her mother nodded, stood up and took the phone then went into the cottage.
Catherine was surprised. She knew that her mother and Jane rarely spoke these days, in spite of Jane’s efforts. Catherine did sometimes wonder though if Jane rang to ease her own conscience, as she knew her younger sister would decline to speak to her – with an excuse, of course, that made it easier for both of them. It seemed to work for them both.
But today was different.
Catherine sat back down and picked up her mug of tea. They’d drunk numerous mugs of tea today, trying to cleanse away the memories of the previous evening. What was it about tea and difficult situations? The act of making tea gave them something to do, and there was something comforting about the drink itself, she couldn’t deny it, but even so…
Her mother had dealt with the news that Bob had a friend better than Catherine had expected. She’d patted her daughter’s hand, apologised briefly for her behaviour the previous day – if in a roundabout way, by saying that she apologised for anything that might have upset Catherine – and gone to give Bob a cuddle.
Catherine had texted Jamal first thing to let him know that Bob was home, and when she’d told him that he’d brought back a friend and that she’d need to find out whose cat it was, he’d asked if she needed him to come round. She’d told him she’d be fine. He had a salon to run, after all. Besides which, she thought it would do her and her mother good to have some time alone to talk things through and to solve the mystery of where the cat was from.
Just then, it dawned on her that she’d promised to let Mark know if they found Bob, so she quickly sent a text explaining what had happened then placed her phone on the table. She hoped that Mark was okay and that she hadn’t offended him when she’d left the beach. After all, he’d been so kind and helpful, and he deserved better than her marching away like that. She’d been caught up in emotion and slightly hurt by the idea that he might think she was strange for living with her mother. Sometimes she wished things were different, but what could she do? She sighed. This was her life and she had to get on with it.
After she’d finished her tea, she lay down on the wicker sofa and closed her eyes. Yesterday had been exhausting, this morning had already worn her out, and she wouldn’t mind taking a nap…
‘Catherine?’
She blinked, aware that the sun was hot on her face and her mouth was bone dry.
‘Ummm?’
‘Catherine?’
She sat up.
‘Yes, Mum?’
Diana sat next to her, looking thinner than ever in her yellow sundress. ‘Sorry about that.’
‘How long were you talking?’
‘Over an hour.’
‘Wow!’
‘I know. I surprised myself.’ Diana nodded. ‘It was good to speak to her though. It’s been a while since we had a proper conversation.’
‘How is she?’
‘Good. Very good in fact. She’s so active, you’d never believe that she’s seventy-eight. She does yoga and pilates and is a member of a walking club and she has three grandchildren and another one on the way. Can you believe that?’
Her mother reached out and gently took Catherine’s hand.
‘It made me think about you and… how things are for you here.’
‘I’m fine.’ Catherine shrugged, feeling too sleepy and disoriented for a big conversation right now.
‘But are you? I mean… we’ve been so focused on Bob and, well, me and… I sometimes worry that I’ve held you back from having the life you could have had.’
Catherine cleared her throat to buy some time before replying. Where had all this come from? Her mother had never suggested that she worried about Catherine being held back before.
‘I’m only thirty-four, Mum.’
‘But you could have a husband and a family now, two or more children of your own.’
‘I could… but it doesn’t always have to be that way.’
Her mother nodded. ‘No, it doesn’t, but if you’d been given more freedom to live your life and not so tied to me, then it could have happened that way. I mean, look at Bob. Even at his time of life, he’s found a companion.’
‘Perhaps. Who knows?’ Catherine needed a drink but she also wanted to ask something first, while Diana seemed in the mood to open up and discuss things. ‘Why didn’t you and Aunty Jane speak for so long?’
Her mother worried her bottom lip. ‘It’s… complicated. I know you’ve asked me before and I’ve fobbed you off saying I was too busy to talk about it and that it was a disagreement but… it’s actually more complex than that.’
‘Okay.’ Catherine nodded. ‘Well, I’m here if you want to talk. If you need to talk. But right now, if you don’t mind, Mum, I’m going to run a bath then go to bed. My head feels like it’s going to burst.’
‘Of course, Catherine. You go and get some rest.’
They hugged then Catherine stood up and carried their mugs into the kitchen. She glanced back outside before she left the room. Her mother was sitting on the sofa, elbows on knees, her head resting on her hands. She was deep in thought and Catherine wondered what she and Jane had spoken about.
However, even though it wasn’t yet gone four, Catherine was ready to take a hot bath and to get a good night’s sleep.
An hour later, even after a bubble bath and climbing into her comfortable bed, Catherine had not dropped off to sleep as she had hoped. Instead, she had gazed up at the ceiling as her mind whirred with thoughts.
Her mother had seemed to experience some sort of revelation today following Bob’s disappearance and reappearance and after speaking to her sister, Jane. It could be a temporary change in her demeanour, of course, but Catherine hoped it was something more. Sometimes, it took a shock for people to realise that they were hurting their loved ones, for them to accept that something needed to change. Was that what had happened with Diana?
And Catherine’s thoughts had strayed, as they often did, to when her life had changed. To that awful day when she’d returned home from school to find her father packing his suitcase as her mother alternately screamed abuse at him and begged him not to go. Diana had been red-faced and puffy-eyed, the tendons in her neck taught and the veins in her forehead throbbing. It had been emotional, ugly, devastating, and Catherine had watched from the sidelines, wanting to ask what had happened, yet afraid to find out the truth. It must have been something truly awful to cause her parents to split up.
Her father had hugged her tight, kissed her cheeks and told her he’d always love her, then he’d opened the door and walked along the path, got into his car and driven away. Catherine had sobbed, fear filling her that she might never see him again, but as she turned, expecting comfort from her mother, she’d seen that it would need to be the other way around. Diana was on the path, curled up, keening with pain and grief. Something had changed in Catherine that day and she’d grown up quickly, left her childhood behind. She’d become the adult in the emotional relationship with her mother and it had never been the same again.
Her father had stayed in touch with phone calls and visits, but it had been strained and awkward. Whenever he came to collect Catherine, her mother had been there glowering on the doorstep or shouting in the background when he rang, so that eventually it had been easier to let the visits slide to special occasions only and to leave the calls unanswered or to accidentally on purpose unplug the phone. It had hurt Catherine to do this but witnessing her mother’s hurt was far worse. Catherine had become her mother’s rock, and her own pain, grief and wants were pushed away. What else could she do? Her mother needed her strength, so there was nothing left when it came to Catherine’s own needs.
But now, her mother had taken a step forwards in talking to Jane. It was a small step, but a positive one. Could Catherine take a step forward too? Her father had stayed in touch with emails and occasional phone calls and had asked to meet many times, but Catherine had always made an excuse about work or other commitments.
Catherine realised that she would never get to sleep if she didn’t act on the impulse that was nagging at her now, so she grabbed her phone and fired off a brief email to her father, asking how he was and telling him that she’d like to see him soon – if he wanted too. It was risky, making her feel vulnerable, and she wondered how her mother would react if she found out, but it was something she had wanted to do for a long time. Life was short, people wouldn’t be around for ever, and Catherine wanted to find some peace of mind – something that had eluded her for what felt like a lifetime.
She shut her phone down, placed it back on the bedside table then snuggled down under the duvet. Tomorrow would be a new day. She hoped it would be a good one.