A Cat Called Alfie
**The follow-up to the smash-hit Sunday Times bestseller, ‘Alfie the Doorstep Cat’. Alfie’s back – and more adventurous than ever!**Edgar Road used to be your typical London street; a road full of people who barely said a word to one another. Then Alfie came along – a big grey ball of fur who changed the lives of every family he met, and brought a community together.But now a new family have moved into Edgar Road and they, more than anyone else, need Alfie’s help. Can he bring light to their darkest times? Or is it already too late to stop them from falling apart?Warm, uplifting and inspiring, this is a book to remind us how a pet can change a life. The perfect read for fans of ‘A Street Cat Named Bob’ and ‘Alfie the Doorstep Cat’.
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A Cat Called Alfie
Rachel Wells
AVON
HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2015
Copyright © Rachel Wells 2015
Cover image © Shutterstock 2015
Cover design © Emma Rogers 2015
Faith Bleasdale, writing as Rachel Wells, asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9780008142193
Ebook Edition © November 2015 ISBN: 9780008142209
Version: 2018-07-24
I feel so privileged to have been able to write about Alfie for a second time and there are a lot of people I am indebted to.
Thank you to my editor, Helen Huthwaite, for continuing this journey with me; it has been a pleasure yet again working with you and all the team at Avon. To see how much you care about Alfie is incredibly overwhelming.
I would not have been able to do this without my amazing agents, Kate and Diane, and their team at Diane Banks Associates. Always on hand with the best advice, you had the unenviable job of keeping me sane this year – no easy feat.
My family deserve a round of applause for putting up with me and helping me greatly whenever I needed it. Thom – you’ve been amazingly cat-knowledgeable; Mum thanks for all the help with Xavier; and Xavier, thanks for letting your mummy write when she needed to. Also to Jo for your amazing support and I love you all so much. Thanks to Helen, Becky, Martin, Jack and family for taking such good care of Xavier while I worked, knowing he has such a loving second family around him is priceless.
Special love to the wonderful women I call my friends, especially Jo, Jas, Tam, Tammy, Tyne, Jessica, Sally and Tina – I adore you all and am blessed to have you in my life. Prosecco all round!
A big nod must also go to Frankie and team at Morans in Westward Ho! It served as the perfect place to write, and provided much needed coffee, delicious food and inspiration – thank you Tomasz!
Alfie is a combination of the cats I have had the good fortune to know and love throughout my life, and therefore he is real to me. I cannot thank enough those who have read and enjoyed the book for embracing this very special cat.
For Xavier – you are my sunshine
Contents
I yawned and stretched, blinking into the dark night. The sky was clear, stars sprinkled sparsely above me, and the moon lit us up in a spotlight.
‘I’d better go home, Tiger,’ I reluctantly said. ‘They might be worrying.’ It wasn’t often that I stayed out so late, but Tiger and I had been having fun with some of the neighbourhood cats and I’d lost track of time.
‘OK, Alfie, I’ll walk you home.’ Although Tiger, my best friend, was a girl cat, she was pretty tough and definitely scarier than I was. And, after all I had been through, I quite liked having her as my bodyguard. Even as we strolled down Edgar Road together, passing dark houses, lit street lamps, and parked cars, I jumped occasionally at my shadow. I was a bit nervous in the dark; past memories were conjured up, things I would rather forget, but Tiger was striding protectively next to me so I tried to remember that I was safe now.
‘Look, Tiger,’ I exclaimed, fear forgotten, as we stopped near the house next door to mine; number 48 Edgar Road.
