They have been friends for what feels like a hundred years, and now he stands before his old mate, asking for a favour.
Tom, I get it, but think about ityoure getting on in years. Where would I take you? I was a manager once, and now you want me to be a porter? Peter Harding chuckles, eyeing the silverhaired gentleman.
Samuel Mitchell nods, his shoulders set.
Hang in there, Tom Ill ring you if something decent comes up. Dont be a sourpuss, mate! Well pull through! Peter calls out as he leaves.
It isnt the first rejection in the past fortnight. Samuel has grown used to the sting and can keep his composure, though at first the setbacks drove him to tears. As the saying goes, a friend is proved in hardship. Samuel has spent his whole career in senior roles, gathering countless acquaintances. When trouble hits, though, he finds himself alone.
As often happens, the new boss brings his own crew and politely, yet firmly, asks Samuel to tender his resignation. Retirement is only a few months away, but nobody seems to mind. Suddenly he is without a prestigious job and the steady paycheck that came with it.
Samuel refuses to despair. In Manchester he knows plenty of people he has helped before with jobs, studies and other woes.
Kirby wont turn me down! I helped him out big time back then, Samuel tells his wife, Lucy, as he heads to yet another interview.
He returns looking grim and quiet.
Thats a friend for you, he sighs.
Lucy reads the disappointment in his eyes.
Come on, Sam, have a bite. Whatevers meant to happen will happen, she says, setting a plate on the table.
He nods, then spends the evening scrolling through his phone, hunting the contacts of his best friends.
Help arrives unexpectedly when Samuel is about to give up. An old driver, now director of a small meatprocessing plant on the towns outskirts, offers him a role.
I can take you on as supplies officer. Its a busy job, but I think youll manage, the man says politely to his former boss.
Samuel accepts any work and starts the next day.
The modest factory sits behind a chainlink fence. Two burly workers unload a truck full of meat. Not far away, a small gang of local cats watches the ritual like a congregation.
Samuel smiles at the striped felines as they prance around, their whiskered faces twitching in unison, escorting each fresh delivery. Later he learns the whole site is practically a cat kingdom; newcomers are kept at arms length.
The cats are a bit wildhearted. Each time Samuel tries to pet a striped one, it darts away or hisses.
Hardhearted lot, he laughs, watching the kitchen maid, Zina, carry out the leftover lunch.
Yes, they arent easy to win over. Look, even the kittens are aloof, Zina remarks, pointing to a pair of stripy youngsters tussling with their elders.
In time Samuel learns the names of all the cats, and they begin to trust the silverhaired man, who often slips them bits of food. He never keeps pets at home, but he loves animals and always tries to help them.
Whenever he steps out for a cigarette, the cats gather around, watching his eyes for any scrap that might suit them.
Six months fly by unnoticed.
Autumn arrives with damp winds and grey rain. The cats hide more often, yet they never miss a meal. One day a lone black kitten appears, thin and wiry, with a bald patch on its back. The resident gang keeps its distance, but it does not attack.
Samuel is smoking after lunch when the kitten darts from a corner straight at him.
Meow, it croaks, sneezing.
What on earth is that? Samuel asks the cats, who stare indifferently. The gang is brownstriped with amber eyes; this newcomer is a different breed.
The kitten rubs against Samuels leg and purrs.
Youre a softie, Samuel smiles.
It was probably left behind by someone, says the kitchen maid, noticing the kittens isolation. Our own cats ignore it, keep it apart.
Samuel watches the gang warily; they could easily hurt the little one. He goes inside and offers the kitten a slice of sausage, placing a few pieces a short distance away for the other cats. The gang lunges greedily, while the kitten lingers, snuggling against Samuels hands before finally nibbling.
Look at thatso gentle, Samuel sings softly, meeting the kittens eyes as it purrs contentedly.
From then on Samuel calls the kitten Pudding and feeds it first each day before rushing off to work.
Lucy raises an eyebrow.
Who are you feeding for? she asks.
Its just a tiny, funny little kitten, Samuel admits, a hint of embarrassment in his voice.
Maybe you could bring it home? Lucy suggests, though she knows Samuel has always resisted having pets indoors.
No way! Why would we need a cat? Samuel replies.
Suit yourself, Lucy shrugs.
On a bleak, overcast morning, Samuel hears a familiar voice.
Oi! Sam, hows it going?
He turns to see his longtime friend Peter hurrying toward him.
Found a job yet? Peter asks warmly, extending his hand.
Samuel eyes him coolly, gives a silent nod, and slips his hand back into his coat pocket. Their friendship has long lost its shine.
Crazy bloke, Peter mutters, hopping into his car to escape the chill.
The kitten, perched on a small board by the warehouse entrance, looks like a bundle of black spikes in the frost.
Dont they let you in? Samuel growls toward the insulated cat shelter where the gang huddles.
Yelloweyed cats flash from inside, trying to gauge whether a human will feed them or stay away.
The radio announces a snowstorm set to hit the city that night.
Did you hear about the snowfall, Sam? How will you get to work tomorrow? the driver jokes.
When the shift ends, the driver offers Samuel a lift home. Snowflakes begin to drift onto the pavement.
Actually, could you drop me off at the factory instead? Samuel asks suddenly.
The driver shrugs, turns the wheel, and says, Back to work, eh? Have a good one, as he drops Samuel at the gate.
Samuel doesnt hear the comment.
He darts into the courtyard, where a thin blanket of snow now covers the ground. He runs to the board where Pudding usually sits and calls, Pudding! Where are you?
No answer. The resident cats watch him anxiously as he circles the yard, shouting for the missing kitten.
Soon a flock of crows lands on the fence, and the cats retreat into their shelter, aware that the snow will bring no food.
Samuel turns away, heading back inside.
By morning, as the forecast promised, the whole city is buried under snow. Residents chat as they trudge through drifts.
Samuel, late as usual, arrives at work after the groundskeeper has cleared the paths. The cats peek from their shelter, eyes hopeful.
He places a bowl of treats out for them.
Here you goPudding sends his regards, he says gently, watching the wild bunch keep a respectful distance.
A warm feeling bubbles inside him, like the simple joy of a child sliding down a hill with parents cheering. Perhaps the snow, the cats, and the little kitten have reminded him of softer things.
Yesterday, the shy kitten finally emerged from its hiding spot just as Samuel turned around. He scooped it up, hugging it close.
Well done, Pudding! At last youre here, lad! he exclaims.
The kitten sniffs the air, its tiny paws gripping Samuels coat as if terrified of losing him.
Lucy, seeing Samuel return with the new family member, smiles mischievously.
So you finally decided to keep it? she teases.
Yes I couldnt let him out there alone in this blizzard, Samuel admits, setting the kitten on the windowsill. The kitten purrs, eyes fixed on the white world outside.
Samuel watches the little creature, his eyes shining with affection. Lucy wraps her arms around her usually stern husband, knowing his heart is kinder than most realize.
The kitten watches the snowcovered streets from the sill, waiting for the friend who chose him.
Their friendshipbetween a gruff man and a tiny catmay be unusual, but theres no room for betrayal, deceit or flattery in it. Its a bond worth waiting for and believing in.
