Help
Its bad. Bad and bitter, bitter and painful, painful and humiliating.
No tears left to cry.
Why? Why would he do this to me?
Seven years. Seven happy years.
We held hands, he never said a cruel word, and then…just like that, he left.
Nohe didnt just leave. He ran away like a coward.
The phone keeps ringing. Who on earth could it be?
Mum.
“Hello, love…love, what are you up to?”
“Nothing, Mum.”must keep my voice steady.
“Well, thats good. Youre not crying over that fool, are you? Not worth the tears.”
“A fools a fool, no matter where you go.”she laughs at her own joke”Love, I wanted to ask if youd come to the cottage with us this Friday. Aunt Margarets bringing her nephew, Simonyou dont know him, but I do. Lovely lad, just had a rough go of it.”
“Lovely lad, but the wife he ended up with? Useless. Good riddance shes gone.”
“Strangled her, did he?”
“What? Who strangled who?”
“Well, you said he got rid of her.”
“Oh, for heavens sake! Dark humour, that. But its good youre joking, love…keep it up. Helps, you know. When Christopher left meremember that story? We were at music school together. I played cello, he played French horn. Sweet boy, tousled blond hair, utterly charmingI adored him. And then? The little wretch ran off with Natalie, the clarinettist. Oh, love, how I wept! Skipped lessons, wandered the riverbank, even thought about”
“Mum…Im not really in the mood for this.”
“Oh? Alright, love. So, Friday then? Well expect you.”
“Dont know, Mum. Not sure.”
“Now, Lucy, thats no answer. Promise me, alright?”
“Fine…Ill come. Just for a bit.”
“Good. Mums always here for you, understand? Dad tooyes, Michael, I told her youre here. Love? Lucy? Dad loves you, and so do I”
Curled under a blanket, lights off, lying on my side.
No tears left. No strength to cry.
Just one question.
One.
Why?
What did I do?
Phone again.
Sister.
If I dont answer, shell raise the whole neighbourhood.
“Hello.”
“Sis, whats up? Crying?”
“No. Why would I cry? Just got dumped by my husbandno big deal. The man I was going to have children with, the man who stood by me through everything.”
“Good riddance! Snivelling over some tosser. When Jeremy ditched me, I was a wreckthought Id never recover. Remember him? Gorgeous bloke, six months together, head over heels…Now look at me!”
“Right…Anyway, were going campingcouples only. But Wills wife just left him, so we thought…hes a decent chap, might work out for you two.”
“And your ex? Never liked him anyway…”
“Lou? You in?”
“Ill think about it, Em…”
“Think hard, Lu…”
Cold. Cold and aching. Physically aching. Eyes stinging, swollen.
Another call.
Grandma.
Good grief.
“Hello…”
“Lucy, darling…Come over. Ill make your favourite doughnuts, hot chocolate, well even have a little tipple, eh? Send Grandpa to the shed, just us girls. I understandwhen Nigel left me, oh, the misery! Started smoking, briefly. Then your grandad swept me off my feet…”
“Alright, Gran…Ill think about it.”
All day, calls poured in. Everyone had a storyhow theyd been left, how it hurt.
By evening, Lucy finally dozed off.
Thenknocking.
Persistent, endless knocking.
Lucy dragged herself to the door.
No one there.
She turned to close it
“Oi! Blocking the way, are we? Let a chap through!”
Lucy looked down.
Good Lord.
What?
Padding into her flat, single file
“Hic…who are you?”
“Us? Isnt it obvious? Were cats.”
“Ca…cats?”
“All sorts. Here to help. Sickly one, close the doorlast thing we need is you catching cold.”
“Were family. The Cat family.”
“Mum, check her head.”
“Son, check her pulse. Daughter, put the kettle on.”
“Sit, sit.”
Lucy obeyed, half-convinced shed lost her mind, as cats scurried about with purpose.
“Granny Cat, she needs a story.”
“Purr, my dear…let the bad fade, the good come…Papa Cat, tuck her in. Aunt Cat, fluff her pillow.”
“Kitten, behave. Put that downprecious thing. Darling, take the phone.”
Lucy watched, dreamlike, as little Tom Cat snapped a selfie on her phone.
“Grandad Cat, massage her hands. Uncle Cat, her feet.”
And so, tucked in, Lucy felt gentle paws kneading her limbs until she drifted off.
The soft patter of paws lingered in her dreams.
Morning camelighter, somehow.
She padded to the kitchen.
No Cats.
Just a dream, then.
Outside, the sun rosegolden, crisp autumn.
Silly, taking leave just to cry.
Friday. Promised Mum the cottage.
At the doorstep
A tiny mewl.
A lone kittenTom Cat.
“Wheres your family?”
Silence. Just a pitiful squeak.
No one around. Lucy tucked him under her jacket.
Couldnt leave him.
Unseen, the Cat family peeked from the alley, exchanged triumphant high-paws, and scampered offmore souls to save.
At the station, a young man hesitated.
“Need directions?”
“First time here. Heading to Brightwood.”
“Me too. Come on.”
They talked. Maxthat was his namecarried her bag.
By Brightwood, they were friends.
Lucy didnt want him to leave, but
“Lu, know where number thirty-seven is?”
“Thirty-seven? Youyoure Aunt Margarets nephew!”
“And youre Aunt Elizabeths daughter!”
Laughing, they stepped through the gate.
“Whove you been cuddling all this way? Thought you might be expecting!”
“Just…my son. Tom squirmed free, mewing proudly, then darted off to pounce on a falling leaf. Lucy smiledreally smiledfor the first time in days. That evening, by the fire, Max handed her a mug, their fingers brushing. Outside, under the stars, a chorus of soft meows whispered through the trees.
