Ian Smith burst into the frontdoor of the flat and froze when he spotted his wife, Natalie, curled up on the hallway rug, sniffling like a busted kettle. I havent the foggiest idea whats happened to you. You were bawling so hard I couldnt make out a single word, and thenjust for kicksmy phone died. Whats wrong, Nat? You look like youve seen a ghost.
Muffins gone Natalie managed to whisper, her voice barely audible. Hes not home.
How did he disappear? Ian asked, genuinely puzzled. Could he be hiding somewhere in the flat?
No, she snapped. Your sisterPoppysaid Muffin bolted into the stairwell when she was out for a walk with her little boy, Mickey. But you know Muffin, Ian; hed never dash out on his own. Why would he run into the street when he nearly froze out there? Im convinced Poppy let him out on purpose
What?! Ians fists clenched. Where is she now? Wheres Poppy?
Off to the corner shop, I think Ive been searching the whole flat for Muffin, but theres no sign of him anywhere. No ones seen him. How can that be, Ian? Could a person really be that crueltoss a helpless creature out into a London winter? Is that even legal?
A person, maybe not. But Poppy she has a habit of pulling stunts. Still, today she wont be putting her feet in this flat any longer. Honestly, why did we ever let her stay?
A month earlier
Ian was ambling toward the bus stop when a grey lump caught his eye beneath a thin sheet of snow. At first he thought it was just a stone, but the thing was trembling like an old fridge on the fritz. That was oddstones dont shiver from the cold.
Curiosity got the better of him, so he stepped off the pavement and shuffled closer. The stone turned out to be a tiny, grey kitten, quivering on the frosted ground.
Now thats something, Ian muttered, scratching his neck. What are you doing here, little fellow?
Of course it wasnt a rhetorical question. Anyone whos ever owned a pet knows they belong on the sofa, not the street. This kitten was simply trying to survive, silent as a mouse, huddling for warmth.
Ian scooped the shivering furball up, brushed off the snow, stuffed it into his coat and, clutching it with one hand, sprinted to the bus that was pulling up at the stop. While he rode home, a thought struck him: Natalie had been dropping hints about getting a kittengrey, striped, just the sort of cat shed adorebut they never found the time to visit a shelter together. Fate, it seemed, had dropped one straight at his feet. When destiny hands you a present, you take it.
Nat, Ive got a surprise for you, Ian announced cheerily as he swung the front door open.
Oh, youre spoiling me again, Natalie said with a smile, stepping into the hallway. One day its gold earrings, the next its a new phone Ive been dreaming about, then cinema tickets. Whats this time? A weekend at a ski resort?
Even better! Ian beamed, unzipping his jacket to reveal the kitten. Found this little grey lad out on the street. You wanted exactly this, didnt you? Striped and all.
Good heavens, Natalie gasped. Hes freezing! Put him in, Ill warm him up. And you, get changed, wash your hands, and head to the kitchendinners ready.
She gazed at the kitten again, a soft smile spreading. What a handsome little thing
Thus Muffin the cat entered the lives of Ian and Natalie. They tossed around a dozen names before settling on the classic Muffin, which felt far more fitting than Tom or Lucas.
The happy incident took place at the end of November, just as the first snow fell, so Muffin never got a proper education in the perils of a British winter. Thank heavens, because for many animals that first frosty night can be a matter of life or death.
In the two weeks that followed, Natalie and Ian grew attached to Muffin faster than a kettle whistles. They liked him from day one, and each subsequent day deepened that affection. Muffin, for his part, seemed to think they were the best owners everno one ever scolded him for accidentally toppling a teacup; they merely asked him to be a bit more careful next time.
Will do! he mewed, leaping onto the bedroom chest of drawers and, ten minutes later, sending the remote control clattering to the floor.
Everything was blissful until one Sunday morning a knock sounded at the door.
Who could be turning up at this hour? Ian squinted at the clockhalf past six. Outside, the sky was still dark.
Neighbours? Natalie guessed. Maybe somethings happened to them?
Ill have a look.
When Ian opened the front door, he was greeted not by a neighbour but by his sister Poppy, dragging a tiny fiveyearold boy named Mickey behind her.
Hey, bro, Poppy grinned. Were dropping by. No problem, right?
Actually
Dont worry, I know you were expecting this. I didnt have time to ring you, what with it being the crack of dawn. Let us in and help with the suitcase; by the time I haul it up to the fourth floor Id be begging for a foot massage.
Ian let them in, though the presence of a suitcase felt oddly out of place for a casual visit.
Whats happened to you? he asked.
My husband kicked me out, Poppy replied, shrugging. Hes found a new lady, can you imagine? So Im crashing here until I sort something out. We could even ring in the New Year togetherwouldnt that be grand? Its been four years since we really talked, you know?
I know why weve been distant, Ian said. You cant build a proper relationship on lies.
Come now, dont be so dour, Poppy chattered. Everyone makes mistakes. Im just looking for a roof until I get my bearings again.
Ian wanted to retort but stopped himself. He didnt want to start the day with a fight, and Natalie certainly wouldnt approve of him lashing out at a sister whod just been thrown out of her home.
The truth was that their father had died five years earlier, leaving a threebedroom flat that was supposed to pass to both Ian and Poppy. Their mother, desperate to keep the house together, had urged Ian to relinquish his share so Poppy could have a place. At the time Ian was living in a student hall, so he obliged. He thought hed later get his own place, perhaps with a mortgagejust the usual British plan.
Later, after Mickey was born, Poppy sold the flat and moved in with a new boyfriend, Val, who was starting a business and needed cash. She told Ian that the flat was hers now, and that shed used the proceeds for her venture. Ian, of course, wasnt happy, but the money never appeared.
Their mother stayed out of it, saying the grownups would sort themselves out. Ten years earlier, when they were still kids, Ian had once found a stray kitten on the street and brought it home, only for that kitten to vanish later. He never suspected his mother, who had let the animal stay. The only plausible culprit for that disappearance was Poppy, but she never admitted it.
Tell me where you put that cat! Ian demanded once, but Poppy never confessed. She just rolled her eyes and played dumb. After that, Ian stopped rescuing stray animals.
So the relationship with his sister remained strained.
A few days after Poppys arrival, she began complaining about Muffin. Hes keeping me up at night, running around the flat, lounging on my sofa, staring at me oddly. She also claimed that her little Mickey was catching a cold.
Thats definitely an allergy to your cat, she told Ian. My own cat used to be as harmless as a cucumber.
It might just be a cold, Ian replied. Youre taking him out for walks, after all. Even if it were an allergy, Muffins part of the family.
Honestly, youre still the same old catcollector, Poppy laughed. When will you grow up?
Ians wife, Natalie, loves animals just as much as he does. Seems you, Poppy, have a problem with them. What have they ever done to you?
Besides ruining my sleep, Poppy retorted. Mickey cant rest because of that cat. Its a stress factor. When you have your own children youll understand.
The mention of children hit a sore spot. Ian and Natalie had been trying for a baby for years, to no avail. Doctors were vague, and Poppy seemed all too happy to remind them of it.
Im thinking we should rehome the cat, Poppy said, trying to sound reasonable. Mickey is my son, youre my sister, and we cant keep fighting over a pet.
Do you even know what youre saying? Ian snapped. Muffin lives here, not you. If you dont like him, youre free to leave. I didnt invite you in. Find another flat and go.
He didnt say the darker thought that fluttered in his mindmaybe hed have to give his own child to a shelter. He knew it would only spark another argument.
For a while Poppy pretended to be civil, but the cat remained her silent enemy. When Ian and Natalie werent home, she would shove Muffin off the sofa into the far corner, making sure he never saw the light of day. Muffin endured it all, then started his own quiet revenge: first he knocked her phone off the nightstand, then he shredded a seam on her favourite jumper.
Your cat is ruining my things! Poppy shouted. Why even have a pet if you cant keep it under control?
She later discovered that Mickey had once pulled Muffins tail and stolen his favourite plush toy, stashing it in her suitcaseeffectively a petty theft.
Im warning you, Ian warned, his voice low. Youre staying in my flat. If you want to keep it, dont lay a finger on my cat.
Alright, alrightno need to get all worked up, Poppy muttered.
On New Years Eve, Natalie kept crying into the phone, halfwailing about something serious. Ian, unable to make sense of it, asked her to come home early. He left work, drove back, and burst through the flat door, finding Natalie still in the hallway, still weeping.
Nat, are you home? he asked, his voice hushed.
She sniffed, Muffins gone Hes not here.
How could he have vanished? Ian asked, bewildered. Did he hide somewhere in the flat?
No. Your sister Poppy said he ran into the stairwell when she was out for a walk. You know Muffinhed never run off on his own. I think she let him out on purpose
What?! Ians fists tightened. Where is she now?
Shes probably at the shop I dont know. Ive looked everywhere for Muffin, but no sign. No ones seen him. How could this happen, Ian? Could a person really toss a defenseless animal onto a London street in winter?
I dont think a decent person would, but Poppy she could. Shes done similar things before. Dont worryher feet wont be in this flat any longer. Ill find Muffin.
That very night, as darkness fell, Ian heard a faint scratching at the door. He opened it to find Poppy and little Mickey, suitcase in hand, looking exhausted.
What have you done with the cat? Ian demanded, his voice shaking.
Nothing, brother, Poppy said, shrugging. I just opened the door and he bolted. I didnt chase after him. My child comes first, not a stray cat.
Ian saw the lie in her eyes. He knew shed let Muffin out on purpose.
Tomorrow is New Years Eve. Ive bought some champagne. Lets not fight over this, okay? Poppy tried to smooth things over.
Fine, Ian said. Just get your things together.
What?
Didnt hear you, he repeated. Pack up, or Ill toss your suitcase out the window. And go.
He drove Poppy and Mickey to the station, handed them a few pounds for tickets, and told them to head wherever they wanted. I dont want to see you again. And please, dont call.
Later that evening, as the family sat around a modest festive spread, the clock ticked down to ten minutes before midnight, and the champagne bottle still sat unopened. The mood was as bleak as a London fog.
Ian, do you hear that? Natalie whispered, eyes wide. Someones at the door.
Im sure its Poppy again, Ian muttered, rising from his seat.
He opened the door to find Muffin, shivering but alive, eyes wide with relief. Nat! Hes back! Hes back! Ian exclaimed, scooping the cat into his arms.
They warmed him quickly, fed him, and Natalie clutched him close, refusing to let go. Muffin purred contentedly, as if to say, I made it home where Im loved.
Ian, a minute before the New Year, Natalie whispered, are you ready to pop the cork?
Absolutely.
He popped the champagne, poured sparkling wine into glasses, and as fireworks lit up the sky outside, the house filled with laughter and relief.
They say the way you greet the New Year sets the tone for the rest of it. For Ian, Natalie, and Muffin, it meant a fresh start, a new family member, andunexpectedlya tiny life growing inside Natalies heart.
