The perpetual stare was a little unnerving, Cassie thought, washing dishes while occasionally glancing into the garden. A tortoiseshell feline was sat on the wall and had been there throughout the day and probably all night, as it was in the same position when she came downstairs the previous evening to make coffee, all fixated like a miniature statue.

 

Weekends were best, no alarm clock and mum’s regular house call every Saturday morning for a quick chat on her way to the village. Cassie’s life had descended into humdrum ever since her best friend, Sarah had passed away, unexpectedly.  The desire to go anywhere or do anything after work or otherwise had been replaced by pyjama slumps and mindless TV pap.

“You really should get out more,” mum said.

“You’re right, shame I don’t have the motivation,” Cassie said, drowning in caffeine.

Mum soon changed the subject when she spotted cat through the kitchen window.

“Aw, look at you, so sweet,” mum said, cooing.

“Don’t know why the damned thing sits there,”

Mum was itching to open the door and invite the cat inside, but sensed Cassie’s disdain, all that spit and fur.  

 

Work was essential, but galling. Everyone wanted something unless you simply didn’t exist, the definition of countless shallow colleague connections.  No-one possessed a modicum of Sarah’s natural engaging ability to coax out a few words, just as Spring was to flowers, where the recipient would gently unfold. What was the actual use of comparisons anyways, the woman was dead and buried, as Cassie knew only too well, and that she simply had to move on.

 

With a wry smile, Cassie breezed into the staff room with social interest in mind, seeking conversations about after work activities - a meet at the local, some birthday party invite, charity bash, anything. There were a few people sat on chairs, including Rose, who was rather dull, but approachable. 

“So, how are you?” Cassie said, chomping down on a cheese and pickle sandwich.

“Not bad actually, you busy?” Rose said.

“Steady,”

Cassie glanced up at the noticeboard where there was a flier, advertising some ‘get-together’ or a party for party’s sake – all welcome.

“Do you fancy it?” Cassie said, with a nudge.

“What's that?”

"Graham's bash,"

"I'll think about it," 

The response was more about being polite than a desire to reciprocate.

 

The day continued with robotic motivation and a willingness for the clock to skip several hours.  It was a relatively warm day, and so Cassie had caught the bus into work,  mainly to save petrol, another transition that further stole her joy, saving money for the sake of it.

 

The kettle had leaked all over the work surface, requiring a ton of kitchen roll to mop up the water. It was old and needed replacing before the damp destroyed the electrics.  Sarah used to love the retro style and matching toaster, the only reason Cassie didn’t want to replace them with workable and more sensible gadgets.  They used to share the house as well as décor ideas, and would clash regularly, often without compromise. Oh, for the chance to reconcile every single disagreement about furniture, wallpaper and things that simply didn’t matter.

 

Cat was in the usual place, fixated on the window, and barely moving or looking around in response to incidental noise.

“Sod this,” Cassie said, opening the door slightly.

She began preparing toast and beans for tea and took out a tin of tuna from the cupboard to feed the mini beast,  having totally caved in. It stayed put for a good while before climbing down towards the house, and then very slowly slunk inside. There was no sign of hunger or even mild curiosity, having entered unfamiliar territory. Instead, it just sat by the chair, staring out.

“Make yourself at home,” Cassie said.

 Eventually, cat ate the tuna and then rested on the rug by the fire, all cosey.  Cassie hoped she wouldn’t live to regret it, as they can get attached and she wasn’t into all that perpetual fussing and stroking.

 

A clutter clear-out was long overdue - a task Cassie had been putting off with lame excuses and guilty thoughts about getting rid of ‘stuff’.  Sarah’s endless fiction titles filling the shelves and vinyl that was gathering dust beneath and so she lay out several open boxes and began the swift transference of items. Cat was watching from the chair arm, and then climbed down and among the clutter, sniffing everything intently. It chose a particular book and glared at Cassie, its paws padding the surface.

“So, what’s the deal,” she said, reaching for the title. 

It was Sarah’s diary, a pen-driven legacy, something she never invade and certainly worth keeping.

 

Friday at the office came and went and Rose never mentioned the pub ‘do’ from the staff room noticeboard.  Cassie had been half-looking forward to the possibility of getting out, which was a good sign at least.

 

A small pile of post lay on the mat as Cassie arrived home with one letter addressed to Sarah to add to an already growing pile on a shelf, somewhere. Cat was on the sofa, curled up between cushions, and now a permanent resident, it would seem. Cassie’s heartstrings were being lightly plucked, as she had already made a point of checking whether there was another tin of tuna in the cupboard.

“Suppose you’ll want feeding,” she said.

Cat glanced up with no purr or any physical signs of affection, it’s presence leaving a dopey ‘calm’ feeling, like she’d been smoking Ganja. She dragged herself into the kitchen to fill cat’s makeshift bowl, or spare saucer, with fish, and wrote on the kitchen slate with chalk as a reminder to get further supplies.

 

A free paper was splayed open on the table, showing the ‘classifieds’ page with a penned circle around an ad for a charity shop on the high street, requesting bric-a-brac. This was Sarah at work for sure, ‘the queen of a no-throw-away policy’.

“How strange is this?” Cassie said to cat.

 

That feeling when you wake with a desire to greet life with unabated enthusiasm maybe plan a movie evening and cook a nice meal, Cassie thought, something to look forward to, after all, she was due a trip to the supermarket for cat food on the way home from work.

 

It had been expected that the jolly outlook would soon wear off, but on it went, day after day where nothing was phasing or bothersome, just a minor inconvenience at worst, and everyone has those, Cassie thought.

 

Mum called as per the usual ritual and passed comment on how tidy and organised the place was.

“Wow - where has everything gone?” she said, referring to the bookshelves that were once packed tight, above and below.

“I can’t hold on to Sarah’s things forever, and most of the clutter was hers, sadly. The charity shop was grateful anyhow,”

Mum stared for a good while. “So glad you’ve managed to do it, at last,” she said.

Cat brushed past and leapt onto the windowsill.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Cassie said.

“Well, who can possibly resist such a beautiful creature,” mum said, about to stroke cat when it shot away and under the sofa.

“’the creature’ doesn’t like being touched, strangely enough,” Cassie said.

 

Instead of mindless garb, Cassie was indulging in some thought-provoking documentary, while cat was pacing the floor,back and forth. 

“What is it?” she said, as if the creature could answer.

Cat continued towards the door that led to the stairs and then looked back, as if to beckon her. Intent on a response, cat then jumped up and onto the back of the sofa, and started patting her hair.

“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that,” Cassie said. “Come on then, show me,”

She followed cat as it led her up the stairs and into her bedroom.   “You know I don’t normally allow you in here,” she said.

Regardless, cat paw-pointed underneath the bed at what used to be Sarah’s side.  Cassie got down on all fours and started delving, and eventually found a chain entangled in dust and carpet fibres.

“Oh my god,” she said, “How did you know?” she said, clutching Sarah’s gold heart pendant that had been missing days before she died.

Cat sat beside Cassie for a while and then left the room.

 

The movie and just played out as Cassie sat on the sofa, twiddling the necklace between her fingers. After a good hour, she went to the kitchen to make cocoa, all the while wondering where cat had disappeared to and despite several attempts to lure the creature to her side, even with treats, it never showed.

 

The reorganisation almost complete, apart from one solitary box tucked in the corner below the bottom shelf.  It was covered in cobwebs and a few old pennies for some weird reason, and the lid was dented as if it had been used to prop the books that had since been removed. Cassie sat on the chair beneath the window and prized it open to reveal several old photographs, many of Sarah.  It was a veritable sift through her childhood and one specific snapshot shook Cassie to the bone. It was in a garden and Sarah was sat with a tortoiseshell cat on her knee, exactly like the one who had occupied the house for several weeks.