She’s standing staring at me. There’s so much hurt in her eyes, and there’s so much I want to say to her, but I can’t.
“Natasha, leave me. I need some space, just for a couple of hours.”
I see her face straighten and watch her walk back into the house. I lower myself onto the edge of the settee and stare out into the garden to savour a moment of silence. I rub my hand over my forehead and close my eyes. I love the girl, I love her so much. Somehow, I’ve got to find a way of conquering my insecurities. My mind wanders to last night, holding her, kissing her, the two of us making love. Now there’s no way I can allow my state of mind to destroy us. I hit the heel of my hand against my head. There’s got to be something I can do, some way of showing her that I love her.
A wry smile passes my lips as I pull my phone from my pocket. I open Google and, squinting, search through for the number I want. Finding it, I press with my finger and ring.
“Hello. Fur-Ever-Homes. This is Carla speaking. How can I help you?”
“I’m just ringing to enquire about a cat.”
“Yes, we’ve got plenty of them,” she jokes.
I smile to myself. “It’s one specific cat,” I tell her. “Her name’s Belley. Just ringing to ask if she’s still up for adoption.”
“Ah, Belley, yes, she’s still with us.”
“Thank you. That’s all I need to know.”
Breathing in deeply, I hang up.
There’s almost a spring in my step as I walk back into the house. I pass the kitchen, where Natasha is making herself a cup of tea. I guess she must see me out of the corner of her eye, as she turns and stares towards the doorway. But I don’t stop and just walk past.
I amble into the pantry and glance at the easel leaning in its usual place. I smile to myself as I think of whose face is going to be looking back at me in the next few hours. With the easel and a large sheet of paper secured under my arm, I make my way towards the conservatory. I peer into the kitchen; there’s no sign of Natasha. I guess she’s taken her drink through to the lounge.
Standing near the glazed door, I prise the legs of the easel apart. I search through my pencils that are strewn on the window sill, choosing one of my soft-lead ones to give her coat the effect that I want. I close my eyes, envisioning her small grey face, and with soft strokes I begin to bring Mr. Pooch back to life. Hardly realising I’m adding those long tufts of fur that seemed to congregate under her chin, I remember Dad saying it was because she would lie with her head resting on her milk bowl, causing her fur to stick together. My memories of our little house cat come so much easier with my eyes closed. This isn’t just a sketch I want to do, this is my way of saying goodbye, of finally admitting she won’t be coming home today, tomorrow or ever.
When I’ve perfected her eyes and the small black smudge above her nose, I briefly open my eyes and gaze at Mr. Pooch taking shape before me. I smile. When I’m happy with her sketch, I will slip it inside a sliver frame and hang it above the fireplace in the lounge. I lower my pencil. No, she’s not finished. It may take me a couple of days, but I can’t finish her now; there are things I need to do. My thoughts take me to Lucy’s unfinished portrait. I’m able to paint again, so it’s something I need to finish for Julia, and for my own peace of mind.
Taking my sketch off the easel, I lay it on the coffee table and stand Lucy in Mr. Pooch’s place. Moments later, I’m back in the pantry rummaging through my assortment of paints.
“Dark brown,” I mutter under my breath.
It’s only the right section of her hair I haven’t quite finished, and matching the colour of her eyes.
Natasha walks into the conservatory, sees me, tosses her head in the air and walks back out. I’m feeling kind of bad. I didn’t mean to upset her earlier, especially after how good things felt between us last night. But with what I have in mind, I’m sure it won’t take long before she forgives me. I sigh, already pre-empting the look on her face.
With the small amount of touching-up I had to do on Lucy’s portrait, it didn’t take long to dry. With no sight of Natasha, I guess she’s still doing her best to keep out of my way. I leave the house, open the rear passenger door of the car and place Lucy’s portrait centrally on the seat. Julia’s maisonette is only a short drive away, so I text ahead to let her know I’m on my way. She texts back almost immediately saying she’s not home, but her husband is. She also tells me how unhappy she is due to the long delay and that she is hoping she will get a refund. Yeah, I know I’ve messed her about, but as for the refund, I don’t have any money myself, so I choose not to mention it when I text back, just saying I will leave it with her husband.
I park up behind a privet hedge next to the drive. I roll Lucy’s portrait and walk towards the front door, slowing as I near. I’m beginning to wonder what will be said when he answers the door. Holding the rolled sheet of paper behind my back, I ring the bell. A dark shadow appears behind the glass before the door opens. He’s a well-built man with thinning grey hair. I would say he’s a good ten years older than his wife. Our eyes meet and, thankfully, he smiles when I hand him his daughter’s portrait. His smile widens as he straightens it out and looks at her face.
“Thank you,” he mumbles.
There are a few words that follow, though being quietly spoken I manage to miss what he said. Not sure what to say in response, I just stand there grinning.
I blow out, misting the windscreen. It’s quite a relief when I’m back in the driver’s seat knowing Lucy has gone, which, in my mind, means no more texts or calls and that Julia is finally out of my hair.
Now, Natasha, a little something for you.
I drive to the end of the road and stop, winding down my window. It’s a toss-up; do I turn right towards the motorway, or left and take the back roads along the country lanes, the scenic route to Nottingham? But do I really feel like looking out at a sea of green fields and green trees? No, I think not. The motorway is reasonably quiet, but then it’s only mid-afternoon.
I pull up onto the tarmacked car park of Fur-Ever-Homes and check the clock on the dashboard. I definitely chose the right route, as it’s only taken me half an hour to get here. It’s a short walk to the entrance, and I’m about to pull the door open when a couple push it towards me and walk out holding a pet carrier between them. I step aside, seeing their smiles. Seeing how happy they are verifies my feelings and I know I’m doing the right thing.
Holding onto that thought, I step into the reception and walk towards a long wooden desk. A middle-aged woman is standing on the opposite side, dressed in a green tunic with the Fur-Ever-Homes logo sewn onto her sleeve. She looks up from the red diary she’s writing in. She raises her eyebrows, which disappear under a thick blonde fringe.
“Would you like to look around?” she enquires.
I shake my head. “No, thanks. I already have.”
“Well, in that case, how can I help you?”
“I rang earlier about a cat.”
She passes me a lopsided grin. “Well, we have plenty here for you to choose from, and they all need a good home.”
“No, I didn’t just ring about any cat. I rang about Belley.”
Her eyes widen. “She’s quite a character. Been with us a while. Getting on a bit, that one. Most people who visit us are usually looking for a kitten or a far younger cat. To be honest, I was beginning to think she’d see out the rest of her days here.”
“My girlfriend brought me here a while ago. I wasn’t sure at the time, but I am now, and Belley, well, she’s perfect for us.”
I have to look over and sign some papers, and although I haven’t much money on me, just a pocketful of change, I leave a small donation. A young girl, also dressed in green, comes through from the back room with Belley in her arms. She stands her on the wooden desk in front of me. I run my fingers very slowly down her back and she begins to purr almost immediately, rubbing her head against my arm. I knew I’d be taking her home today, but with my thoughts elsewhere, a pet carrier didn’t even cross my mind. Luckily, the lady on reception agrees to loan me one. She passes me a pen; I jot down my address and mobile number, then sign to say I’ll return it in the next few days.
Belley’s large amber eyes gaze up at me. Her stare is broken by the small bars that separate us. I recline the passenger seat and position the carrier onto it for our journey home. I really don’t want to take her home yet, as I want the time to be right for me to surprise Natasha, but what other choice do I have? I sit with my hands on the steering wheel, staring out of the window without really seeing a thing. I guess I could call in at Aunt June’s and ask if she’d do me a favour. As far as I know, she’s never owned a cat or dog herself, but I know she likes animals, so maybe if it’s only for a couple of days she’d agree to keep her. I guess it’s worth a shot.
Her front door’s unlocked, but that’s no surprise with how often I pop in to see her with Larry. I place the carrier down at the far side of the table; she won’t see it there. I’ll bide my time before asking if she fancies having a feline companion for a few days.
When I walk into the kitchen, she tells me she’s been pottering around in the garden. She pulls the pink rubber gloves she’s wearing off her hands and places them down on the mat next to the back door. Straightening up, she undoes a clip securing her long plaited hair, glancing at her reflection in the window to tidy it as best she can with her fingers.
“Fancy a drink?” she says, rushing over to the fridge to retrieve a carton of orange juice.
I guess my smile answers her question. As she walks towards me, I step around the table to make sure she doesn’t see Belley.
I crouch slightly for my usual kiss on the cheek. She passes me my glass and makes her way towards the kettle, flicking the switch to boil it for a cup of tea. I head into the dining room, pull a chair from beneath the oak table and sit and wait. Looking slightly flushed, she walks into the dining room to join me, a cup and saucer in her hand. A metal spoon chinks almost rhythmically against her fine china. I push the chair out next to me. She turns to sit down, and then, in the next moment, hurries back into the kitchen, returning with a plate filled with an assortment of chocolate biscuits. She places it on the table between us and sits down. I’m about to get up off my chair and bring Belley into the dining room so my aunt can meet her, but she begins waffling on about pruning some overgrown plants in her garden, saying they are breaking through the slats of one of her fence panels. It would be rude of me to get up now, so, helping myself to a biscuit, I sit and listen, well, half listen as I think about the mess my life has become.
“Penny for them,” she says.
“Sorry?”
“Gabriel, you’re miles away.”
“Wishful thinking,” I mutter under my breath.
Her warm smile straightens. It’s not often I see my aunt frown. She’s one of those people who always seems to have a smile on her face. But right now, she’s frowning straight at me.
She rests her cup on its saucer, reaches over and pats my knee.
“Surely things can’t be that bad?”
I blow out and look past her hand at the bold green patterns on the carpet.
“Being with Natasha has transformed my life,” I blurt out, gazing up at my aunt under my eyes. I’m quick to add, “But with the court case imminent, I can’t help thinking about the company that’s suing me. The way my luck’s going at the moment, I have a feeling they’re going to take me to the cleaners, leave me without a penny, literally nothing to my name. It’s not just my bank accounts, as there’s very little in them anyway, but it’s the house I’m worried about. There’s a good chance it could be repossessed, and then what about Natasha and the girls? How can I be her man, a man to look up to, and how can I be a dad if I can’t even keep a roof over their heads? I’d have nothing to give them.”
The swallow I take is more of a gulp as I sip at my glass of orange juice. My aunt’s face is straight. She sits back and crosses her ankles.
“Maybe there’s some way I can help.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Thanks, but this is one mess I don’t think anybody can sort out.”
Her mouth creases at the corners as she grins at me.
“How about you hear me out?”
I nod.
“That old house has been in our family for years, you, your dad, your grandfather. You’re forgetting your dad was my brother. Do you honestly think that if it’s within my capabilities, I’m going to let anyone take the house from you and your family?”
I open my mouth to speak and am quite surprised when she holds up her hand to silence me. She sits forward and covers my hands with her own.
“As you know, I wasn’t fortunate enough to have children of my own, so I spent my life working, although I didn’t really need to, because your Uncle Bernard, God rest his soul, earned enough to give us more than a comfortable life.”
Her gaze moves up from my hands until it reaches my eyes.
“I earned good money,” she continues. “Apart from paying for the occasional holiday, most of what I earned I saved or invested.”
I can hear every word she’s saying, but can’t see where I fit into the equation.
“I can see by your face that I’m losing you, so I’ll get straight to the point.”
She sits back and sips at her tea, which can only be lukewarm by now.
“After your uncle passed, I made a will. Half of my estate I’ve left to your brother, Jason, and the other half,” she says, smiling, “I’ve left to you. It’s a substantial amount, and I think…” She pauses and shakes her head. “No, I know it’s enough to clear any debts you may incur. And as for your house, that will be safe for you and your girls, who I’m sure will enjoy living in that old house. I can make an appointment at the bank. You can come with me if you like. All I need to do is sign my name and your half of the money will be released for you to do with whatever you choose.”
Looking into my aunt’s face, I swallow hard for a moment. I’m too choked to speak.
“No one has ever done anything like this for me before. I couldn’t possibly have your money. What if you need anything in the future?”
“You’ve no need to worry on that count. I’ve set plenty aside for any needs I may have.”
Once again, she’s smiling and her hand is back on my knee.
“Believe me, knowing you and Natasha are going to be okay is worth more than any money I may have locked away in some old bank account. And you’re forgetting, the money is technically yours, so you’ll be getting it at some point anyway.”
There seems very little point me arguing, as her mind is already made up.
She said she’d like me to go with her to the bank and that she’ll ring and let me know once she’s made an appointment. I came here to ask for a favour and will be leaving with a new lease of life.
I’d almost forgotten Belley lying in her carrier out in the kitchen. Again, my Aunt June came up trumps, agreeing to take care of her until the time was right, though she’s not the only surprise I have waiting in the wings for Natasha.
I get up from my chair to leave and stand with my arms held tightly around my aunt. I’ve no other way of showing her how grateful I am. I say my goodbyes. It’s nice seeing her crouching down stroking Belley, who’s now lying on her side on the carpet.
I walk towards the front door, but before I reach it, she calls me back. I turn, seeing her making her way to the oak sideboard. She opens a small drawer at the top, takes something out and turns to face me.
“A little something I’d like you to have.” She smiles. “Well, not you personally.”
I make my way back over to where she stands, and as I reach her she places a small brown box into the palm of my hand.
“This was mine from your Uncle Bernard. Before he gave it to me, it belonged to his mother.”
I lift the lid and gaze down at a ring, a slim gold band.
“It’s lovely, but I can’t see myself ever getting married.”
“You could never see yourself with children,” she says, “yet look at you now. I won’t say any more, but, Gabriel, I’d like it if you would promise me something.”
“Sure, if I can.”
“If ever you get to walk that girl of yours down the aisle, I’d like to think this will be the ring that you slip onto her finger.”