Wed been mates for what feels like ages, and now here I am, standing in front of him, asking for a hand.
Stephen, I get it, but think about it youre not getting any younger. Where would I put you? You used to be a manager, and now you want me to be a porter? Peter Parker chuckled, eyeing the silverhaired bloke.
Stephen Miller gave a nod.
Hang on, Stephen Ill ring you if something decent turns up. Dont get down, old chap! Well get through this! Peter called out as he walked off.
It wasnt the first rejection in the past fortnight. Stephen had started to expect it and learned to keep his cool, even though at first it knocked the wind out of him.
They say you find out who your friends are when the chips are down. Stephen had spent his whole career in senior roles and had a Rolodex of contacts. But when the rough patch hit, nobody turned up.
Just like it often does, the new boss brought his own crew, and Stephen was politely but firmly asked to tender his resignation. He was only a few months away from retirement, but that didnt seem to matter to anyone.
So suddenly he was without a prestigious job and the steady pay.
But he wasnt about to mope. Around town he knew a lot of folks hed helped land jobs, finish studies, sort out all sorts of hassles.
Kirsty wont turn me down, I helped him out ages ago, Stephen told his wife Lucy as he headed off to another interview.
He came back looking sour and silent.
Thats the friend Im talking about, he sighed.
Lucy read the disappointment straight from his eyes.
Alright, Stephen, have a bite. Whatevers meant to happen, will happen, she said, laying the plate down.
Stephen nodded, then spent the evening scrolling through his phone, dialing the best of his contacts.
Help came out of the blue when Stephen was about to throw in the towel. An old driver of his, now running a small meatprocessing plant, gave him a call.
I could use a supply manager. Its a busy job, but I think youll manage, he said politely.
The next day Stephen started his new role.
The plant sat on the edge of town, fenced off with steel bars. Two burly lads were unloading a truck full of meat. Not far off, a clowder of local cats watched the spectacle like it was a royal ceremony.
Stephen smiled at the striped furballs, who flicked their whiskered faces in sync as they chased after the fresh haul. Later he learned the lot of them ran a little feline gang that kept strangers at bay.
Every time he passed, Stephen tried to pat a whiskered one, but they either darted away or hissed.
Theyre a tough lot, Stephen laughed, watching the kitchen maid, Zinnia, haul away the leftovers.
Theyre not the friendliest, even the kittens are a bit aloof, Zinnia replied, nodding toward a pair of stripy youngsters tussling with the older cats.
Soon Stephen settled in and memorised every cats name. They grew to trust the silverhaired gentleman, mostly because hed been feeding them whenever he could. He didnt keep pets at home, but he loved animals and always tried to look after them.
Whenever Stephen stepped out for a smoke, the cats would circle him, eyes bright, as if checking whether there was anything for them too.
Half a year flew by. Autumn rolled in with its damp winds and drizzly rain, and the cats hid more often, though they never missed a meal.
One day a skinny black kitten with a patch on its back appeared on the factory grounds, keeping to himself. The local gang didnt seem to welcome him, but they didnt attack either.
Stephen, out for his usual cigarette after lunch, noticed the little furball waddling toward him.
Well, whos this then? he asked the cats, who barely glanced his way.
The kitten mewed hoarsely, sneezed, and rubbed against Stephens boot.
Looks like a stray, doesnt it? the kitchen maid muttered, watching the scene.
Stephen chuckled.
Looks like someones been tossed in with us, doesnt look like one of the usual lot, eh? he said, offering the kitten a piece of sausage. The other cats got a treat a few steps away, but the little one lingered, nudging Stephens hand before finally gulping down his bite.
From then on Stephen started calling the kitten Pasty. Hed bring him a morsel before heading off to work.
Who are you feeding, love? Lucy asked, eyebrows raised.
Its just a tiny, funny little kitten, Stephen replied, a little embarrassed.
Maybe you could bring him home? Lucy suggested, though she knew Stephen wasnt keen on indoor pets.
No way! Why would we need a cat? Stephen muttered.
Your call, then Lucy shrugged.
One frosty morning, as Stephen trudged to the plant, a familiar voice called out.
Oi! Stephen! Good to see you! Peter Parker jogged up, grinning.
Found a job yet? he asked, reaching out.
Stephen gave a cold stare, nodded, and kept his hand in his coat pocket, walking on. Hed long learned what their friendship really cost.
Youre a bit wild, arent you? Peter snorted, hopping into his car to escape the chill.
The little kitten perched on a board by the loading bay, his black fur looking like tiny needles in the cold.
Not letting them in, are they? You lot are a proper menace, Stephen muttered toward the insulated cat shelter where the gang huddled, their yellow eyes flickering, wondering if hed feed them.
The radio forecasted a heavy snowfall for the night.
Theyre saying a foot of snow by tomorrow, Stephen. Howll you get to work? the driver complained, offering Stephen a lift home.
When the driver pulled up, Stephen suddenly blurted,
Actually, could you drop me at the factory instead?
The driver shrugged and turned the wheel.
Missing the office, mate? he laughed, dropping Stephen at the fence.
Stephen didnt even hear him. He sprinted across the snowblanketed yard, calling,
Pasty! Pasty!
But the kitten didnt answer. The yard cats watched warily as Stephen ran around, shouting. Soon a flock of crows perched on the fence, keeping an eye on the scene while the snow kept falling.
Pasty! Where are you? Stephen cried, glancing around.
The cats, sensing the storm, retreated to their shelter, curling up to stay warm, no longer expecting any treats from him.
By morning, as the weather service had warned, the whole town was under a thick blanket of snow.
Blimey, this is a proper snowstorm, havent seen anything like it for ages, locals muttered, shovelling their driveways.
Stephen barely made it to work, arriving a bit late like everyone else. The groundskeeper had cleared the paths, and the cats peeked out, eyes bright.
Stephen set out a plate of sausage bites for them.
Here you go, Pasty says hello, he said softly, watching the gang keep their distance but eyes gleaming.
He felt a lightness in his chest, like when you were a kid sliding down a hill with your mum and dad. Maybe the snow had something to do with it.
The next day, the mischievous kitten finally emerged from his hideaway just as Stephen turned around. He scooped the little fellow up, hugging him tight.
Good lad, Pasty! Finally youre out, you little rascal! he exclaimed.
The kitten yawned, sneezed, and clung to Stephens coat, as if terrified of letting go.
Lucy, spotting Stephen at the door with the new family member, raised an eyebrow.
Decided to keep him after all? she teased.
Yeah, thought hed be alone out there in this blizzard, Stephen admitted, setting the tiny furball on the sofa.
The kitten sniffed around, exploring his new territory. Stephen watched, his eyes sparkling. Lucy wrapped her arms around her tough, nononsense husband, knowing better than anyone the kindness that lived in his heart.
The kitten perched on the windowsill, watching the snow drift by, where the white landscape mirrored the friend who had chosen him as a companion.
Their bondman and kittenwas different from any human friendship, but Stephen and Pasty both knew there was no room for betrayal, deceit, or flattery in it. And that made it worth waiting for and believing in.
