Its bad. So bad, and bitter, bitter and painful, painful and unfair.
There are no tears left to cry.
Why? Why would he do this to me?
Seven yearsseven happy years.
We held hands, he never said a cruel word, and then just like that, he walked away.
No, not walked. Ran. Like a coward.
Her phone keeps ringing. Who could it be now?
Mum.
«Hello, love love, what are you doing?»
«Nothing, Mum,» she forces her voice steady.
«Thats good. Youre not crying over that fool, are you? Not worth your tears.»
«A fools a fool, no matter where,» Mum chuckles at her own joke. «Listen, love, I wanted to invite you to the cottage this Friday. Auntie Rose is coming, and shes bringing her nephew, Jamieyou dont know him, but I do. Lovely lad, just had rotten luck. His wife was useless, thank goodness he got rid of her.»
«Strangled her, did he?»
«What? Who strangled who?»
«His wife. You said he got rid of her.»
«Oh, for heavens sake! But its good youre joking, love Joking helps. When your dad left meoh, Ive told you that story, havent I? We were at music school together, me on cello, him on French hornsuch a sweet boy, fair-haired, lovely I adored him. And then that little rat ran off with the clarinettist, Natalie. Oh, how I cried! I even skipped class, walked along the riverbank, thought about»
«Mum I cant talk right now.»
«Oh. All right, love. So, Friday? Well expect you.»
«I dont know, Mum.»
«Emily, thats not an answer. Promise me, all right?»
«Fine. Ill come. Just for a bit.»
«Good. Love you, darling. Dad sends his love tooyes, I told her, Michael! Emily? Dad loves you, and so do I»
She curls under the blanket, face to the wall, lights off.
No tears. No strength left to cry.
Just one question.
Why?
Her phone rings again.
Her sister.
If she doesnt answer, shell stir up the whole family.
«Hello.»
«Sis, whats wrong? Are you crying?»
«No. Why would I cry? My husband just left me, thats all. The man I was going to have children with, the man I went through everything with.»
«Good riddance! Whining over some loser. When Steve dumped me, I thought Id die. Remember Steve? Gorgeous blokesix months together, madly in love And look at me now, eh? Anyway, were camping this weekend, couples only, and Toms wife just left himthought you two might hit it off. Never liked your ex anyway Em? You coming?»
«Ill think about it, Sarah.»
«Think hard, Em»
Cold. Cold and aching. Her eyes sting from dried tears.
Another call.
Gran.
Good grief.
«Hello»
«Emily, sweetheart Come round, Ill make your favourite scones, cocoa, maybe a little sherry? Well send Grandad to the shed, just us girls. I know how you feelwhen my Johnny left me, oh, I suffered. Started smoking, can you believe it? Didnt last long. Then I met your grandad, and he swept me right off my feet»
«Thanks, Gran Ill think about it.»
All day, its the samecalls from everyone, each with their own tale of heartbreak.
By evening, when Emily finally dozes off, the doorbell rings.
Who now? Not answering.
But it rings and rings.
She drags herself up.
Strangeno ones there. She turns to close the door when a grumpy voice snaps, «Oi! Blocking the hallway, are we? Let a body through!»
Emily looks down.
Good lordwhat on earth?
Marching through her door is
«Uh who are you?»
«Who dyou think? Cats.»
«Cawhat cats?»
«All sorts. Were here to help. Right, patient, close that door before you catch your death.
Were family.
The Cat family.
Surnames Catson.
Mum, check her head. Son, check her heart. Other sonpulse. Daughter, put the kettle on.
Sit, sit.»
Emily obeys. She must be losing her mind, but the cats bustle about with purpose.
«Granny Cat, she needs a story.»
«Purrr, my dear let the bad fade, the good come near Papa Cat, tuck her in. Auntie Cat, fluff her pillow. Kitten, behaveput that down! Darling, take the phone off the little one.»
Dazed, Emily watches as tiny Catson snaps a selfie on her phone.
«Grandad Cat, rub her hands. Uncle Cat, her feet.»
And so they do, massaging her until she drifts off to the sound of tiny paws.
When she wakes, she feels lighter.
In the kitchenno Catsons. Just a dream, then.
But outside, the sun risesgolden autumn, crisp and bright.
Silly, taking leave just to cry.
Fridayshe promised Mum shed visit the cottage.
At the doorstep, a tiny mewl.
A lone kitten. Catson.
«Wheres your family, little one?» she murmurs, but he only squeaks, pink mouth open.
No one else around. She tucks him under her coat. Theyll sort it out at the cottage.
Unseen, the Catson clan peer from the corner, high-fiving before scampering off to their next rescue.
On the train, a young man glances about, lost.
«Need directions?» Emily asks.
«Sunnybrook. First time here.»
«Same way. Come on.»
They chathis names James. By Sunnybrook, theyre friends.
Reluctant to part, Emily hesitatesuntil
«Emily, dyou know number thirty-seven? Far from here?»
«Thirty-seven? Youyoure Auntie Roses nephew!»
«And youre Auntie Lizs daughter!»
Laughing, they step through the gate.
«Whove you been stroking so tenderly? Thought you might be expecting!»
«My son.»
«Son?»
«Meet Cat Catson!»
«Catson?» He grins.
«Problem?»
«None at all. Allow meJames Alexander Catson.»
As their families appear, the pair wipe laughing tearswhile a kitten tilts its head, watching.
***
A large grey cat perches on the windowsill.
«Where are they? Two months old, and theyre dragging him aboutdisgraceful.»
Once, he too was small.
Emily still wonders how kitten Catson took that selfie.
She and James debate it often. She thinks it was a dream.
But when *he* turned up
With champagne, chocolates
Emily was out. Not married yet, but close.
And *he*thought shed take him back.
As if.
Catson strode out, booming, «What dyou want?»
The man froze.
Catson flexed a tiny paw.
«Run,» he ordered. «And stay away from our Emily.»
Thencouldnt resistgave the blokes shoe a parting squirt.
Well, he *is* just a kitten.
Good morning, dearest! Quick, hear this tale before the Catsons arrive
Sending hugs and sunshine.
Always yours.
