**Diary Entry**
Its bad. So bad it stings, stings so deep it aches, aches so much its unfair.
No tears left to cry.
Why? Why would he do this to me?
Seven years. Seven happy years.
Holding hands, never a harsh wordthen, in an instant, he just… left. No, worsehe ran away like a coward.
The phone keeps ringing. Who on earth?
Mum.
“Hello, love… love, what are you up to?”
“Nothing, Mum,”keep the voice steady.
“Good. Youre not crying over that fool, are you? Not worth your tears.”
“A fools a fool, even in Timbuktu,” she chuckles, pleased with herself. “Listen, love, were going to the cottage this Friday. Aunt Marthas bringing her nephew, Simonyouve not met him, but I have. Lovely lad. Lifes been hard on him.”
“Such a good man, but his wife? Useless. Thank goodness he got rid of her.”
“Strangled her, did he?”
“What? Who strangled who?”
“Well, you said he got rid of her.”
“Ugh, what a grim jokethough I suppose its good youre joking. When Tom dumped meremember that story? We were at music school together, me on cello, him on French horn. Sweet lad, bit gawky, all blond curls…”
She sighs. “Loved him to bits. And thenrotter ran off with the clarinettist, Natalie. Oh, love, how I cried! Even skipped class, wandered along the riverbankthought about throwing myself in…”
“Mum… Im not really up for this right now.”
“Right, right. So, Friday then? Youll come?”
“I dont know.”
“Thats no answer, Lily. Promise me.”
“Fine, Mum. Ill come. Briefly.”
“Good. Love you. Dad says so tooyes, Michael, I told her! Lily, darling? Dad loves you, we both do”
Wrap myself in a blanket, curl up in the dark.
No tears. No strength left.
Just one question.
One.
Why?
What did I do?
Phone again.
Sister.
Ignore it, and shell have the whole family in a panic.
“Hello.”
“Sis, you alright? Crying?”
“No. Why would I cry? My husband just left me, thats all. The man I was going to have children with. The man Ive been through everything with.”
“Good riddance! No point moping over some toerag. When Jake dumped me, I thought Id die. Remember Jake? Gorgeous. Six months together, madly in love… Look at me now, eh?”
She huffs. “Anyway, were camping this weekendcouples only. Wills just been left by his wife, so we thought… hes a decent bloke, maybe you two?”
“Tanya… Ill think about it.”
“Think hard, Lil…”
Cold. So cold it hurts. Eyes swollen, cant even open them properly.
Another call.
Gran.
God.
“Hello…”
“Lily, sweetheart… Come over. Ill make your favourite scones, hot chocolatewell even have a little sherry, eh? Send Grandad to the shed, just us girls… I know how you feel. When Arthur Sparrow left meoh, the misery! Started smoking, I did. Not for long. Then your grandad swept me off my feet”
“Ill think about it, Gran.”
All day, its the samesomeone calls, tells me how theyve been dumped, how they suffered…
By evening, when I finally drift off, the doorbell rings.
Who now? Not answering.
But it rings and rings, relentless.
I drag myself up.
Weirdno ones there. About to shut the door when a grumpy voice pipes up:
“Well? Move aside, let us through. This is what you get for helping people.”
I look down.
Good Lordwhat?
A procession files in…
“Hicwho are you?”
“Who dyou think? Cats.”
“Wh-what cats?”
“All sorts. Here to help. Now shut the doorlast thing you need is a cold.”
Were family.
The Cat family.
Surnames Catterson.
“Mum, check her head. Son, her pulse. Daughter, put the kettle on.”
“Sit, sit.”
I slump onto the sofa. Clearly losing my mind, but the cats bustle about like they own the place.
“Granny Cat, she needs a story.”
“Purrr, my dear… let the bad fade, the good come… Papa Cat, tuck her in. Auntie Cat, fluff her pillow.”
“Kitty, behave. Put that down. Darling, take the phone off him.”
Dazed, I watch as little Catterson snaps a selfie on my phone.
“Grandad Cat, massage her hands. Uncle Cat, her feet.”
And just like that, they tuck me in, kneading my limbs until I fall asleep. The last thing I hear is the soft patter of paws…
Morning. Surprisingly, I feel lighter.
Kitchens empty. The Cattersonsjust a dream? Shame.
Outside, the sun risessuch a vivid autumn morning.
Silly, taking leave just to cry… RightFriday. Promised Mum Id go to the cottage.
At the doorstep, a tiny mewl.
What?
Good heavens.
All alone… Catterson Junior. What on earth?
“Wheres your family, little one?” I murmur, but he just squeaks, pink mouth open wide.
No sign of the others. I tuck him under my coat. Cant leave him.
Unseen, the Cattersons peek from round the corner. High-paws all roundmission accomplished.
Meanwhile, the kitten and I head to the cottage.
At the station, a bloke glances around, lost.
“Need help?” I ask.
“Brightwater. First time here…”
“Same. Come on.”
We chat. Maxthats his nametakes my bag. By the time we reach Brightwater, were friends.
Reluctant to part, butmanners.
“Lily, dyou know number thirty-seven? Far from here?”
“Thirty-seven? Youyoure Aunt Marthas nephew!”
“And youre Aunt Lizzies daughter!”
Laughing, we step through the gate.
“Whove you been cradling so tenderly? Thought you might be expecting!”
“This? My… son.”
“Son?”
“Meet Catterson Junior!”
“Catterson?” Max raises a brow.
“Got a problem with that?”
“None at all. Allow meMax Alexander… Catterson.”
As our families greet us, were wiping tears of laughter. On the ground, the kitten tilts his head, watching.
***
A big grey cat perches on the windowsill, grumbling.
“Where are they? Dragging the baby out in this weatherscandalous!”
Once, he was that small.
Lily still wonders how Catterson Junior took that selfie. She thinks it was all a dream.
But that manthe one who came?
Champagne in hand, chocolates in tow.
Lily wasnt homeshe and Max werent married yet, but it was coming.
And him? Thought hed apologise, win her back. As if.
Catterson Senior answered, gruff: “What dyou want?”
The man froze.
Thentiny fist raised”Scram. And stay away from our Lily.”
Couldnt resist. Still a kitten at heart. Lifted his legright in the blokes shoe.
Good morning, dearies!
Quick, a storybefore the Cattersons arrive.
Hugs, sunshine, and all my love.
Always yours.
