An Expensive Indulgence

An Expensive Treat

Claire, again? How much longer is this going to go on? I swear I work just to keep your cat in biscuits!

The cat, whom Claire was vainly trying to coax into his carrier, twisted free, thudded to the floor, and then retreated into the corner of the hallway, howling in a deep, mournful tone. Judging by his expression, the cat, whom Claire had once grandly named Mr Darcy, felt it was time to sell his rather useless, in my opinion, life as dearly as possible.

It had been so long, after all Darcy, as Claire fondly called her whiskered friend, had lived with her for nearly ten years. How old the cat truly was, Claire didnt quite know. Shed found him on the streets, and hed certainly not been a kitten. Even then, he was a youngish grown-up, according to what the vet at Marylebone Animal Clinic told Claires mum.

That day, Claires mum, Margaret, had dashed to the surgery with her daughter, tightly cradling the battered cat wrapped in a faded old baby blanket.

Please, do something! Save him!

Where did you find this beast? drawled the young vet, nose wrinkled. Looks like a right old straggler.

What difference does it make where hes from? Hes my cat now! Help him! Cant you see hes suffering? Why are you dragging your feet? My money not good enough here, is it? Worse than the people coming in with their fancy Persians?

Margaret was so fierce in that moment, the vet decided not to argue. Wise move.

Margaret Sanders was as stubborn as they came. But what else could one expect? Try raising a child alone, with no father and no help, while minding two elderly parents, all on a nursery teachers salary. Life teaches you to bare your teeth.

She stood her ground and always had whether with the neighbours, with the parents of the children in her class, or passing strangers who occasionally mistook her gentle looks for easy prey.

But she had a way of doing it that left people quite baffled. She never shouted, never lost her temper shed just find the right argument or say something, and you could see the switch flip in her opponents mind. Suddenly, the row would dissolve; a dispute would become a calm, corner conversation, during which the adversary would inevitably end up telling Margaret their whole life story. Shed listen kindly, nod and wait. Usually, she was thanked, apologised to, and people left her in peace.

She never really understood how she knew just where to press that sore spot. Margaret simply listened wholeheartedly. Maybe that was the secret.

Still, that talent only worked with strangers. With those closest to her, she found it impossible.

Her husband had scarpered a week into married life. Her mum would later joke hed stuck around longer than shed expected a comment Margaret found biting but couldnt help agreeing with. She thought, Who would build a life with someone as hopeless as me? For when he left, hed said, smirking, You a woman? About as much as I am a ballerina!

It hurt. But then, a few months later, Margaret found out she was pregnant, and a strange calm set in. She was a woman, after all she was going to have a baby! Men dont have babies.

Margaret awaited her daughters arrival with more anticipation than shed ever had for Christmas or her own birthday. Her life had been quiet and joyless, with precious few celebrations. This, this was different.

Her own mother had been less than supportive.

Why do this, Margaret? A burden! Youre young, pretty enough, youve got prospects. But have a child? Youll be living on beans and toast the rest of your days. And youd doom your baby to the same! Children are an expensive pleasure, Margaret. Thats what you dont see now, but youll understand eventually.

Mum, didnt we live like that?

Exactly, love! Exactly! And what was so grand about it?

Margaret thought hard. Normally, she listened to her mother, but this time something inside her rebelled.

Every time she pictured life without her baby, a darkness settled over her mind, suffocating. How could she get rid of what was growing inside her and not just the little bundle she hadnt yet held, nor even properly felt, but the knowledge she could be a mum if she wanted? Someone wanted to take that from her.

Oddly, it was her nan who settled her mind. One day she had just arrived from the countryside, settling her posh scarf only for special occasions and delivered her verdict: Have the baby, Maggie! Ill help.

But Nan, what about Granddad? He cant manage alone in the village.

Dont you fuss, love. Hes tough as boots. And if things get rough, well bring him here.

Nan placed a neat bundle on the table. Margaret instantly recognised her favourite embroidered tea towel, the one shed made for Nans birthday.

Remember this? Go on, open up.

Margaret had never seen nor touched so much money.

Granddad sold the house. Theres a new road going through the village, the lands worth a pretty penny. All our savings are here. Enough for a small flat. After that, its up to you.

Nan, I cant take this

Yes you can, dear! Not for yourself, for the little one. Who else will look after them, if not the mother?

That bundle was the final straw in the row between Margaret and her mum.

Oh, so now you find the money, Mum? When I asked before, you said you hadnt any! And now its all tea and sympathy!

Nan chased Margaret out of the room and held a quiet but firm conversation with her daughter. Still, she never managed to convince her. Margarets mum could not understand why, with all of Margarets wrong-headedness, life had dumped in her lap everything a woman in her position could want help, support, even her own place. It was like winning the lottery, and she grumbled that Margaret didnt deserve it.

Margaret never understood what shed done wrong. She hadnt been out gallivanting; the child was her husbands. And it takes two to tangle as Nan said: If the horse cart tips, its not down to one horse not pulling. And if hes a stallion, well, then its doubly his job.

Margaret couldnt say anything to that but she was endlessly grateful.

The flat Nan found was a cracker four rooms in a rambling Victorian terrace, a bit shabby but full of charm. The builders (all hearty lads under the gruff eye of the foreman and Nans sharper one) fixed it up a treat in two months, and for the first time, when Margaret tiptoed into what would be her daughters nursery, she broke down in happy sobs.

Oh you silly thing, dont cry! Be glad! Nan dabbed her nose briskly. Now, come on, lets break in the new cooker.

Claire came a little early, and Margaret was worried, but everything was fine. The girl grew strong and sweet-natured. Not that youd expect otherwise Margaret, having been raised on peppered arguments with her own mother, swore never to treat her own daughter like that.

Nans your favourite now, isnt she? her mum would gripe. She bought the flat, helps with the baby, but Im not even allowed in for a cuddle!

No-ones stopping you, Mum. Come over whenever you like, but please no rows. Claire gets scared.

Scared? Shes a baby! She doesnt know her head from her heels. What could she possibly be scared of? My voice?

Mum, you dont just talk. You shout Margaret would nearly cry.

But her mum refused to hear any of it. Lets see what you say when your own daughter talks to you like this.

She never will! Margarets tears vanished.

Oh, she will! Just you wait its all in how theyre raised! I spoiled you, and see where it got me with a daughter who doesnt care one bit for her mother. Now you dont need me!

Thank you, Mum! Margaret replied, her voice suddenly the same gentle one as before.

What for? Her mother, finally flustered, was thrown off.

For the lesson, Mum. I now know exactly what not to do!

What are you on about?! But Margaret had stopped listening.

Only one thought pulsed through her head: I will be a different kind of mother!

Easy to promise. Not as easy to do.

Margaret wasnt at all sure she was getting it right, trying to figure out the right approach with her child. Claire wasnt a brat, but she had backbone she always knew exactly what she wanted and could find her way round you with a smile, even as a tot.

Mummy, may I have a sweet?

After lunch, Claire.

Not even one?

No, love.

All right, Mummy. May I have two after lunch if I eat everything up?

Margaret would laugh at her little trickster, but she always handed over two sweets when that plate was wiped clean.

Well done!

All these little negotiations helped shape Claires character; she learned early that tantrums didnt pay, and she even managed to sweeten her formidable Nan in the same way:

Nan, dont shout! Its so unkind, and itll give you wrinkles. Come here!

Nan would oblige, and little Claire would sit in her lap, smoothing her fingers over Nans brow: See? All gone! Now youre pretty again.

Margaret chuckled as she watched her mum melt like butter, but wisely stayed quiet.

Life gradually settled down. Margaret worked, and Nan, together with Granddad (who sold his farm and moved to town), took care of Claire.

Things got tough when Nan fell ill. The doctors didnt offer any hope, and Margaret didnt need any. She understood.

Nan, shall we go to London for a proper check-up?

No need for that, love. Ive had my life. Its just you and your granddad I cant bear to leave.

Dont say that!

Dont mind me, girl.

Just then, Claire brought a cat home.

The day Darcy arrived in Margarets flat, it almost cost her her daughter. Claire left school as usual, took the path home and disappeared.

Granddad, who was meant to pick her up, missed her by two minutes.

Where could a kid vanish on a straight path a few hundred yards from home? It was a mystery.

Everyone searched: classmates, neighbours, Margaret called in from work, Granddad, and even poorly Nan.

But Claire came home on her own, tear-stained, clutching a limp cat.

Are you hurt, love?

No, but hes hurting, Mummy! Not me him!

Margaret wrapped the shivering cat and sprinted to the vet.

Luckily, he hadnt suffered too much beyond a few bites and bruises just battered and exhausted. The vets patched him up and handed the patched-up moggie to Margaret.

Here you go and once hes better, get him his jabs. You say hes a house cat, but hes a real ragamuffin no microchip, no papers.

Margaret gulped when she saw the bill.

You could buy two pedigrees for that, she muttered, but paid up.

At home, she emptied out her purse, did her sums, and frowned. Shed be skint by month-end. There were medicines to buy for the cat and Nan; Claires birthday was coming, and Margaret was determined her daughter would never feel her birthdays were sad affairs, as Margarets had been.

Mummy, can I ask you something? Claire, who should have been asleep, tiptoed into the kitchen and hugged Margaret.

What is it, love?

You dont need to get me presents. Can I please keep him? Hell be my present

Margaret hugged her back and gazed at the fluffy heap at her feet. Shed tried settling the cat in a box, but he always clambered out to be near her. Hed curl up by her slipper and purr the place to bits.

Needless to say, Margaret agreed and Darcy stayed.

Amazingly, this scruffy former alley cat adapted quickly to the comforts of home, causing no trouble and doting on the old folk. He especially shadowed Nans every move.

And curiously, life for his hosts began to shift too.

After paying off the vet bill, Margaret decided shed had enough. She was tired of scraping by on her salary and occasional pension top-ups. The cat changed everything; she finally plucked up the courage to resign. Frightened, but determined, she took a job as a nanny for a family a friend recommended, and immediately regretted not doing it sooner.

From then on, work was never a problem. Families raved about her, and with each referral her wages rose, because people understood how rare it was to find a good nanny.

Every evening, shed come home, stroke Darcys healed ear and murmur, Thank you, Darcy. I wouldnt have done it without you.

Darcy would purr, tap her hand with his paw, and look over at Claire. He cared for both, but he was most loyal to Claire. He was with her for every homework session, helping by holding her copybook flat with his paw; he was with her through school, heartbreak and loss when Nan died quietly, and Granddad followed some months later.

He was there when, to everyones surprise including herself Margaret met a decent, loving man and, after much thought, married him. He cherished Margaret, saw through to her secret strengths, and stood up for her against all comers even her mother, whom he charmed into silence by giving her his car and driver.

This transformed Margarets mum, who now swanned out her block with her gardening tray: My son-in-laws here! Off to the allotment.

By the time Claire was in college, she was flying solo. She and her stepfather got on, but Claire preferred to stay on in her childhood flat, which she considered home.

Thats where she brought her boyfriend.

Blimey, Claire, this place is huge!

Dont exaggerate.

So much space! Oh whats that?!

A hissing, growling fuzzball shot from Claires room and leapt at Dennis. He squealed and hopped about, trying to avoid Darcy, who made his dislike perfectly plain.

Get it away! Get it away!

Claire soon got the cat under control but Darcy and Dennis remained firm enemies.

Dennis disliked the cat intensely and took every chance, discreetly, to chase him off.

After a year, they married. But something started coming apart between them. Dennis began making snide comments comments that would have floored Margaret.

What sort of wife are you, Claire? Is this supposed to be stew? Its just watery soup. Cant cook for toffee, can you?

Claires gran had taught her to cook, and shed made her first stew at ten so he was hardly fair.

Dennis would have found nothing else to grumble about if not for Darcy.

Whats wrong with him now? Dennis exclaimed, seeing another vet bill. This is madness, Claire! I dont spend that on myself. And hes just a ball of fluff!

Dennis, Darcy is not just fluff. Hes family.

Whose family? Not mine! I dont want him.

You cant say that.

I can and I have. If this happens again, Ill throw him out myself!

Claire, who that morning had found out she was pregnant, said nothing. She thought theyd talk later. But that morning, Darcy, already an old boy, had another accident, so she bundled him up again for the vet just as Dennis returned from his run.

Dennis took his health seriously ate right, ran every morning, and was always on at Claire for not understanding how important these things were. Health is the most important thing!

This time, hearing the cat needed more treatment, Dennis lost his temper, flung his trainer at the wall, and declared, Thats it! This animal goes. Im not forking out any more for this useless fleabag. Out with him out of my house!

Then itll be me as well! Claire, always the calm one, flared maybe hormones, maybe nerves.

Then off you both go! Ive had enough! Why should I put up with this?

Something shifted between them, something permanent. Claire went cold realising she no longer wanted this marriage.

She didnt say it was her flat, nor that throwing her and the cat out was absurd. She just reached into Dennis jacket, pulled out his keys, and held them.

Im pregnant. I shouldnt get upset, and I cant be doing with rows. The cat gets it you dont. Leave. Now. When youve calmed down, we can talk but I cant live with you anymore. If you can so easily throw out someone whos been part of my life for so long, how quickly would you get rid of me if I annoyed you? My feelings mean nothing to you, is that right? Yes. Weve had some good times, Dennis, and Im grateful for them. But now, theres just too much bad. Thats too much for me for both of us, frankly. So go, please. Pick up your things later. Right now I need to get Darcy to the vet. He needs me. Thats how it is, thats whats right.

Dennis didnt argue. He shoved some papers and his jacket into his gym bag and slammed the door behind him.

Claire knew he hadnt even registered that she was having a baby all he cared about was getting rid of the cat.

She set down the carrier, waited for Darcy to stroll in, gave his head a little scratch, and said, Ready? Lets go. Time to sort things out starting with your health!

The cat recovered. Of course, age would tell, and Claire would have to get the carrier out many more times. But Darcy always willingly entered when little hands tugged his tail gently something he let no one but Claire’s child do. Her daughter would be the only one allowed such liberties.

Claire would never know a better babysitter. In five minutes flat, Darcy could get the baby off to sleep, pinning her to the pillow with a furry paw. Claire even considered naming her daughter after her mum, but Margaret talked her round.

Why not ask Dennis? Shes your child together. Youll live apart, but this wonder will bind you for good. Youve done much to maintain civility, but now its time to do more. It wont be easy, but the baby is worth it.

Claire listened, surprising her now-ex-husband.

How odd. Didnt know you had such wisdom.

Well, Im growing. So, what do you say?

I say Thank you.

What for?

For not putting your own stubbornness above our child. Ill help out, Claire.

And Dennis kept his word.

Little Alice grew up with two homes, two beds, and two favourite bunnies one at Mums, the other at Dads. She had a much-loved grandma Margaret and a just-as-loved Grandma Barbara. But the love between them was one and the same, and in that love Alice flourished, believing that if these grown-ups cared for her and want her happy, they must care for one another too. That simple, truthful idea brought the family together, just as her mum had done long ago, smoothing over old hurts.

Only Darcy knew the whole story about this little girl, but hed never breathe a word not for lack of language, but because he simply didnt need to.

It was obvious: if the mother cat is gentle, her kittens will be, too.

And as for small Alice, she had nothing to worry about on that front. One day shed bring a new life into the world, bend over her childs cot, stroke a tiny cheek, just as her mother and grandmother had, and whisper, Hello there, darling. Ive waited for you all my lifeYouve come home to us, just like I hoped you would.

And, wrapped in the golden hush of the nursery, all at peace, Alices baby blinked uptiny fist curling beside a whiskered, dozing cat, grown ancient now, but still just as gentle. Outside, in sunlight, shadows of old misfortunes faded, soft as the thump of a patient tail on a carpet.

In that moment, as three generations looked onMargaret by the door, Claire cradling her daughter, Alice marveling at new lifea hush settled, stitched through with purrs and the quiet promise that, no matter what twists life brought, you could still choose kindness, make room for love, and welcome home every scruffy stray heart along the way.

For in this family, every expensive treatbe it a battered tomcat, a new chance, or simply an ordinary Tuesdaywas repaid in loyalty, laughter, and love multiplied, year after year, in fresh, miraculous abundance.