The Bride

THE BRIDE

Clara watched as her fiancé, face twisted with anger, kicked little Mabel, who had accidentally trodden her muddy paw onto his spotless white trainers. Daisy wanted to stick up for the dachshund, but instead received a hard, stinging blow across her face from the heavy leather lead. Now Clara realised why her cats and dogs always bristled around Patrick.

Lost in thought, Clara sat by her bay window. Night was falling over the small town, house lights flickered on all around, but she hardly noticed whether it was light or dark. She had enough on her mind.

It wasnt as if she didnt have anythinga flat of her own, a solid job, a life most wouldnt turn their noses up at. Yet, love simply refused her. Her friends from school were all married and nurturing toddlers by now, while she remained single. Did fate intend her, a clever and not-unattractive woman, to be a spinster forever? Why am I any less deserving? Clara mused, gazing at her devoted furry friends as they gently pressed themselves to her sides.

Her parents had passed away when she was young, one after the other, and shed grown up in her grandmothers care, vowing to become a nurse. Through grit, shed scraped into medical college for paramedics after not making it into her first-choice university. Now, she worked gruelling shifts for the ambulance service.

Her doting granny had long since moved into a little cottage on the edge of town to give Clara some space to settle her private life, but her luck, stubbornly, failed to turn.

As a child, Clara used to dream of having a cat and a dog, but her mother had been terribly allergic to fur. Theyd only learnt this the day Clara arrived home, gleeful, with a foundling kittenher mums asthma flared that evening, and they had to send Ginger off to stay with Gran.

Once orphaned, another strayTabbyjoined her. Shed found Tabby mewing by the bins. Clara desperately wanted a dog as well, but her grandmother hesitated, fearing the extra burden.

Now, instead of a partner, Claras life revolved around five loyal, loving friends whose presence made her loneliness bearable. Daisy, a mutt, was rescued scruffy and shivering outside the corner shop. Shed been chased off by shop staff, but Clara bundled the frightened pup into her tote and carried her home. Quick-witted and full of beans, Daisy earned her name for her madcap speed and bonded fast with Tabby.

Her crowd quickly grew. Soon after, Mabel the dachshund arrived. Mabels previous owners, moving house, had decided the dog had no place in their freshly redecorated flat; they left her out in the garden mid-winter and drove away. The little, knocked-knee dog, abandoned, lingered weeping near the house for a week, trying to sneak into entranceways, until Clara heard about her from the local dog walkers and brought her home, nursing her frostbitten ears for weeks.

Mabel, quiet, wise, and impossibly homely, loved a knitted scarf to keep her sore ears warm; shed trot along the pavement like a comical little matron, making passersby smile.

Sophie, the cat, came next, choosing Clara all on her own. Clara, rushing to her night shift, found what looked like a snowball dashed with ice, yowling desperately at her feet: it was a cat maddened by hunger and cold. Clara led Sophie inside, pressing two cheese and ham butties into her paws and taping a note above the radiators: “Please, dont put the cat outI’ll collect her after my shift. Clara, flat 3A.”

At home, Clara dubbed the new arrival Sophie after her own middle name, and, to her surprise, the cat responded at once. Sophie was a stately, dignified queenbossy in the best wayand quickly ruled the house, ensuring all rules of cleanliness and conduct were followed, even patrolling at night to check on everyone.

The last to join was timid, gentle Teddy, a kitten Clara saved from being pecked by crows in the local park. He grew into a shy, agreeable tom, always the peacemaker in her miniature menagerie.

All fiveDaisy, Mabel, Tabby, Sophie, and Teddylived in peace, doing their best not to trouble their mistress. Clara loved them dearly, but knew not every gentleman caller would be thrilled at sharing a home with her crowd. Even Gran worried.

“Clara dear,” her grandmother would sigh, “your flats big enough, but really, two dogs and three cats? Young men these days arent always fond of animalsthey want less fuss.”

“If they cant love them, they cant love me,” Clara always replied.

And so it proved. Her first boyfriend, Henry, whom she met fresh out of college, stuck it for six months before admitting he hated pets. Clara didnt mourn their breakup for long.

Later, Patrick came inhandsome, lively, a county swimming champion, comfortable in any crowd. He courted her well: sweet gestures, and occasionally walked the dogs for her. They talked marriage.

But soon, her pets began to shun himDaisy growled, Mabel scuttled behind Clara and barked, Tabby and Teddy kept their distance, and Sophie hissed if he so much as looked at her.

One evening, while Clara prepared dinner and nipped onto the balcony, she saw Patricka man always quick with a smilekick Mabel in a flare of rage over her muddy paw on his trainers. Daisy leapt in, only to be struck viciously with a lead.

Clara stormed down, snatched the leads from his grinning hands and, with grim silence, walloped him across the knuckles.

“Clara! What are you playing at? That hurt!” he whined.

“Oh, so it hurts you, but not them? How dare you lay hands on my animals! Will you start on me, too?”

“I was only teaching them not to jump on people!”

“Get out. And never come back!”

“Fine by me! Whod want to live in a blinking zoo?” Patrick sneered, laughing nastily. “Moochers, the lot of them!”

The break was miserable; Patricks words echoed in Claras mind for months. For a year she brooded alone, certain true love wasnt for heruntil she really did fall, head over heels.

It started by chance. Dr Alexander Jameson, an orthopaedic consultant on call, was filling out admissions as she brought in a car crash victim. Their eyes met, and Clara was struck to the heartlove at first sight, despite years scoffing at such tales as fiction.

Alexander, using professional pretext, finagled her number and called the very next evening. They began a slow, meaningful courtship.

Clara sensed this tall, calm man saw her, genuine and deep. She wanted desperately to trust, yet feared heartbreak all over again. No, she wouldnt show him her petsnot yet. Marriage first, then the truth would come out.

Six months passed. Alexander introduced her to his sister, Charlotte, and brother-in-law. Together, they drove to York to meet his parents. Clara, in turn, brought him to Gran. Shed visited his neat little bachelor flat more than once, but hed yet to see hersher visiting relatives and quarantine excuses wore thin. It was time: confess or keep lying.

Torn, Clara gathered up her furry familywith blankets, beds, and food bowlstrundled them off to stay at Grans cottage. Daisy and Mabel were familiar with the place; the cats adored Gran and made friends with Ginger. Gran disapproved.

“Clara, you cant begin a marriage on a lie, she scolded.

But Gran, if Alexander finds out, he might leave me. I love him… and them. What else can I do?

All right, but youd best visit daily, when youre not on duty. Mind, I dont approveit wont end well.

Clara visited her animals every day, aching for them when she was away. With no more suspicion, Alexander proposed, slipping a heart-shaped amethyst ring onto her finger. Darling, Ive no grand dowry, you know! she laughed, giddy.

They filed the papers and wedding plans whirled into motion: dresses to fit, restaurant menus to finalise, rings to collect. One exhausted evening, finally home, they needed to count up the guests and planned dishes for the celebration. After a rushed tea, Alexander reached to toss the rubbish but found the kitchen bin bulging.

“I’ll just empty this,” he offered.

As he did, packets of cat and dog food tumbled out.

“Clara? Whats all this from?

Oh, nothing, Alex, Ill tell you later, she hurried, changing the subject.

Meanwhile, at Grans, shed let Daisy and Mabel out to run in the frosty garden, distractedly watching through the window as she welcomed the postwoman with her pension letter. The postwoman left the gate and door open; Sophie, Tabby, and Teddy seized their chance, slipping into the snow outside, only Ginger stayed in. The gang huddled for a moment, then set offDaisy leading, Sophie last, not letting anyone lag behind.

Onlookers gaped at the unusual parade, doubly so at the zebra crossing. Daisys sense of direction was flawless; soon, her whole pack was scampering toward their mistresss flat, Mabels scarf askew, drawing warm smiles from passersby.

Alexander, hearing a chorus of yelps and miaows at the door, opened it and stood dumbfounded as a sausage dog in a scarf, a big mutt, and three bedraggled cats marched in, dusted with snow.

“Who… what is this lot?”

Clara rushed out, face in her hands, sank onto the shoe bench, and sobbed in silent shame.

“Clara, are these yours*all* of them?”

“Yes. They were at Grans.

Daisy and Mabel, sensing her tears, barked fiercely at Alexander, while Sophie arched and hissed.

“And here you said you had no dowry.”

Alexander grabbed his coat and left without a word. Clara didnt call, not wanting to make excuses, believing everything lost. Weary, she wrapped herself around her animals, sobbing until her face puffed up.

Some hours later, the doorbell rang. Standing there was Alexander, arms laden with bags of the best pet food money could buy. He smiled, deposited his cargo, and left. Dont shut the door, Ill just be a tick.

Moments later he returned, leading a sleek dachshund in a red raincoat.

“This is my dog, Sally. And thishe produced a shy ginger cat from under his jacketis Felicity. They were with Charlotte. Will you have them join your crew?

Years on, Clara and Alexander still laugh about that day. Who knowswithout that extraordinary dowry, their paths might never have crossed quite so securely; perhaps they never would have found so many shared years after all.