It was awful. A bitter, painful ache, the kind that leaves you numb.
No tears left to cry.
Why? Why would he do this to me?
Seven yearsseven happy years.
We were inseparable, never a harsh word between us, and then… just like that, he was gone.
No, not gonehed slunk away like a coward.
Her phone rang and rang. Who on earth could it be now?
Mum.
«Hello, love… what are you up to?»
«Nothing, Mum,»she forced her voice steady.
«Good. Youre not crying over that idiot, are you? Not worth the tears.»
«Idiots are idiots, no matter where you go,» Mum chuckled at her own joke. «Listen, darling, I wanted to invite you to the cottage this Friday. Auntie Margarets coming, and her nephewSimon. You dont know him, but I do. Lovely lad. Had a rough time of it.»
«Very nice, but his ex-wife? Useless woman. Good riddance, I say.»
«Strangled her, did he?»
«What? Who strangled who?»
«His wife. You said he got rid of her.»
«Oh, good grief! Dark humour now? Well, thats good, love… laugh, it helps. When Greg Wilson left meremember that story? We were at music school together. I played cello; he played French horn. Sweet boy, a bit scrawny, blond… God, I adored him. And thenthe ratran off with that clarinetist, Natalie. I cried for days. Even skipped class, wandered along the riverbank… thought about jumping in.»
«Mum… Im not really in the mood.»
«Right, right. So, Friday? Youll come?»
«I dont know.»
«Thats not an answer, Emily. Promise me.»
«Fine, Mum. Ill come. Just for a bit.»
«Good. Love you. Dad sends his love tooyes, Michael, I told her! Emily, darling? Dad loves you, and so do I…»
She curled under a blanket, face to the wall, lights off.
No tears. No strength left.
Just one question.
Why?
Her phone buzzed again.
Her sister.
If she didnt answer, Sarah would rally the entire family.
«Hello.»
«Em, are you crying?»
«No. Why would I cry? Just got dumped by the man I was going to have children with. No big deal.»
«Good! No point moping over some tosser. When Mark ditched me, I nearly lost it. Remember Mark? Gorgeous bloke. Six months together, head over heels… Look at me now, eh? Anyway, were camping this weekendcouples only. Except for Davehis wife left him. Thought you two might hit it off. Never liked your ex anyway…»
«Sarah… Ill think about it.»
«Think hard, Em.»
Cold. Aching. Her eyes stung from dried tears.
Another call.
Grandma.
God.
«Hello…»
«Emily, sweetheart. Come over. Ill make your favourite scones, hot chocolate… maybe even a little sherry. Send Grandpa to the shed, just us girls. I understandwhen Harry Burton broke my heart, oh, I suffered. Took up smoking! Briefly. Then I met your grandad, and well…»
«Thanks, Grandma. Ill think about it.»
All day, calls poured ineveryone sharing their own heartbreak tales.
By evening, exhausted, Emily finally dozed off.
Thenknocking. Relentless.
She dragged herself to the door.
No one there.
She turned to shut it
«Oi! Move it, love. Blocking the whole hallway.»
Emily looked down.
Good Lord.
A procession marched in
«Who… who are you?»
«Who do we look like? Cats.»
«Cats?»
«Different sorts. Were here to help. Close the doorlast thing you need is a cold.»
«Were family. The Whiskers family.»
«Mum, check her head.»
«Son, take her pulse. Daughter, put the kettle on.»
«Sit down, love.»
Emily obeyed, half-convinced shed lost her mind as the cats scurried around purposefully.
«Grandma Whiskers, she needs a story.»
«Purrr… let the bad fade, the good come…»
«Papa Whiskers, tuck her in. Aunty Whiskers, fluff her pillow.»
«Baby Whiskers, behave. Put that downno, darling, take the phone from him.»
Dazed, Emily watched as tiny Whiskers snapped a selfie on her phone.
«Grandad Whiskers, rub her hands. Uncle Whiskers, her feet.»
They tucked her in, massaged her limbsshe drifted off to the sound of tiny paws pattering.
Morning brought unexpected lightness.
No Whiskers in sight. Just a dream, then.
Golden autumn sunlight streamed through the window.
Silly, taking leave just to cry.
Fridayshed promised Mum.
At the doorstep, a faint mewl.
A lone kittenBaby Whiskers.
«Where’s your family?»
Silence. Just a pitiful squeak.
Emily scooped him up. Couldnt leave him.
Unseen, the Whiskers clan watched from the corner, nodding in approval before trotting off to their next rescue.
On the train, a lost-looking young man
«Need directions?»
«Going to Sunnydale. First time.»
«Me too. Come on.»
They talkedhis name was James. By Sunnydale, they were laughing like old friends.
At the cottage gate, realisation struck
«Wait… youre Aunt Margarets nephew?»
«And youre Aunt Lizs daughter?»
Laughing, they stepped inside.
«Whove you been cuddling all this way?» James teased.
«My… son.»
«Son?»
«Meet Whiskers Whiskers.»
«Whiskers Whiskers?»
«Problem?»
«None at all. James Whiskers, at your service.»
As their families gaped, Emily and James dissolved into laughter, the kitten between them, tilting its head in confusion.
***
A big grey cat watched from the windowsill.
«Honestly. Dragging a two-month-old kitten around… disgraceful.»
Once, hed been small too.
Emily often wondered how Baby Whiskers had taken that selfie. She and James debated theoriesshe still thought it a dream.
Then HE showed upher ex, with champagne and chocolates, begging forgiveness.
James was out.
Papa Whiskers answered the door.
«What do you want?» he growled.
The man froze.
Whiskers flexed his claws.
«Run along. And stay away from our Emily.»
Thenbecause he was still younghe couldnt resist. A little… accident in the mans shoe.
Well. He deserved it.
Good morning, dears.
Hurry with your storythe Whiskers family might drop in.
Sending love and light.
Always yours.
