The Uninvited Cat
Today, Emily moved into her own flat. It was small and on the outskirts of Manchester, but that didnt matter. The ground floor of the three-storey house was so low that stepping over the windowsill landed her straight in the yard. The twelve-square-metre room held a bed, a wardrobe, a coffee table, and two chairs. The kitchen was barely big enough for a sink, a cupboard beneath it, and a stoolnothing more would fit. A tiny place, but hers alone.
Emily had bought it with her share of the inheritance from her Aunt Margaret, who had adored her niece for her kind heart and willingness to help in any situation. The sum hadnt stretched farjust enough for this flat. There had been no other options in the city at that price.
«Lovely little place, bright and conveniently located,» the estate agent had said. «Perfect for one.»
«For one, yes,» Emily had agreed. «But I still need to fit a fridge in somewhere…»
She spent the whole day scrubbing, dusting, and polishing. By evening, everything shone, her belongings were neatly arranged, and the kettle whistled on the stove. The wide windowsill held her dishes. Emily paced her new domain, trying to figure out where the future fridge might go.
Night fell. Tea was drunk, but the fridges spot remained a mystery.
Emily climbed into bed, pulled the duvet over herself, and listened to the crickets outside. Their chirping lulled her to sleep.
A crash from the kitchen jolted her awake. She grabbed her phonethree in the morning. Dark. Still night. Burglars? A ghost? Or just the wind?
She tiptoed to the door and peered into the kitchen.
Her dishes lay scattered across the floor. Her favourite mug had split cleanly in two, and between the halves sat a cat.
An ordinary tabby, but enormous. It stared at her calmly.
«Where did you come from?»
The cat glanced at the window, as if answering.
«Then go back!» She waved her arms, but the cat leaped past her, landed on the bed, and settled in.
Morning found them both thereEmily in the chair, the cat stretched across the bed. At six, the uninvited guest yawned, stretched, and left.
The day passed in more unpacking and arranging.
By evening, Emily remembered the cat. She stowed the dishes in the cupboard and shut the window, certain this would keep the furry intruder out.
But at three in the morning, rustling came from outside. On the windowsill sat the same cat, pressing its forehead to the glass, fixing her with a stern glare.
«Stay there, then,» she muttered, and went back to sleep.
Morning brought a weight on her legs. Emily opened her eyesthe cat lay across her feet.
«Oh, you!» She swung a pillow at it. The cat yawned and sauntered to the open windowwhich she had definitely closed the night before.
The next night, Emily decided to stay awake and catch the trespasser. She turned off the light, perched on a chair by the window, and watched the yard. The darkness soon blurred her vision, the trees swayed gently, the crickets hummed, and her eyelids grew heavy…
She woke in the chair, the cat purring loudly on her lap.
«Fine. If I cant beat you, Ill have to make peace. Every home needs a man, I suppose,» she conceded.
From then on, the cat stayed all day.
When the long-awaited fridge arrived, Emily still hadnt decided where to put it. The cat solved the problemit sat in the hallway corner and yowled. Measurements confirmed it was the perfect spot.
The fridge became the cats throne. It slept, ate, and groomed there, as if it owned the place.
One evening, the cat grew restless. It jumped down, circled the fridge, then leaped back up, fidgeting endlessly before finally freezing in a sphinx-like pose.
«Finally settled?» Emily asked. «Good. Sleep. So will I.»
The cat didnt move.
Then a howl shattered the night.
The cat screamed from its perch, louder than any siren.
«Are you ill?»
It arched its back, refusing comfort or commands. Suddenly, it darted to the door, scratching franticallyoutside was the fuse box. Emily flipped the switch, cutting the power, then threw open the windows.
«Well call an electrician tomorrow. But for now, lets sleep. Thank you, cat. Who knows what mightve happened without you.»
By morning, the cat was gone.
It didnt return that evening. Or the next day.
Some called it coincidence. Some said Aunt Margaret had sent help. But Emily knewit had been her guardian angel. That cat had walked into her flat, and her life, with too much purpose to be anything else.
