What Will Dad Say? Stylish Outfits for Father Figures

Edward stepped into the flat and the silence made him pause. Are they asleep? he wondered. From the kitchen emerged his pallid wife, Lily, and their daughter, Emma, eyes wide as if theyd just seen a ghost, and cradling a tiny kitten in Emmas arms.

It was dark, but the kitten was no longer afraid of the gloom; it had grown used to it. It knew Mum would be back soon, would feed it, lick it from the tip of its tail to its whiskered nose, then curl up beside it, humming a lullaby until fear vanished completely.

This time, however, Mum was unusually late. It was unlike her. The basement, perpetually halflit, had taught the kitten to tell time by the faint drip of a leaking pipe that had burst a day before it was born, leaving a small, fresh puddle beneath it.

Food, on the other hand, was scarce in the cramped storage room. There was never anything to eat, so Mum had to go out every day on the hunt. The kitten rose from its warm cardboard box, padded to the wall and stared up at the single crack through which a sliver of light filtered. The opening was tiny, and the weeds growing outside blocked even that, leaving only a oppressive halfdarkness that made the kitten uneasy.

It tucked its hind legs beneath it and tried to leap toward the crack the very passage Mum used to come and go but it was still too small. Ten attempts later, it still couldnt reach the opening.

Just as the kitten landed on all fours after another failed jump, the basement door creaked open. The suddenness caught it off guard; it froze, hoping not to be seen. A frail old woman, Mrs. Whitmore, the buildings longtime resident, slipped in first, followed by two burly men.

Look at these lazybones! the men shouted. I told you a cat had given birth down here. Lets catch them and throw them outside! one of the council cleaners tried to protest, Shes all alone down here. The other sneered, Shes alone now, but in six months therell be twenty. Why argue? Just catch them!

The men scattered through the basement, chasing the kitten, pausing twice to step outside for a smoke. Only when Mrs. Whitmore joined the hunt did they finally corner the tiny creature.

Nothing works without Mrs. Whitmore! she scolded the men, who happened to be her sons. They tossed the kitten out, slammed the door, and sealed the little hole in the wall so tightly that not even a fly could slip through.

Get out, get out! the old woman barked. Dont come back, I never want to see you again! The kitten fled to a safe distance, its eyes filling with tears as it looked back at the home where it was born. Now it had nowhere to go, and its mother was nowhere to be found.

What should it do? Where could it turn? Yet those heavy thoughts faded as the kittens wide eyes took in a world it had never imagined. Until now its universe had been the dank cellar with four walls, a leaking pipe and a tiny crack. Now it sensed a whole other realm bright, smelling of grass, bustling with people, birds singing, and strange fourlegged beasts with glowing eyes.

Cats that resembled its mother prowled here, but the mother herself was absent. The kitten mewed, first a faint whisper, then louder, finally a desperate cry, hoping someone would hear. No one did. The cats turned, offering sympathetic glances before moving on.

Are you still here? I said getout! shouted Mrs. Whitmore, who had never liked cats. No one knew why she despised them; perhaps it was simply habit, or a way to vent her own frustrations.

With no other option, the kitten bolted, not knowing where to run, only that it must get away. The back door was sealed, making escape impossible. It sprinted as fast as its little legs could carry it, dodging trees, shrubs, passing cars, and streetlights. The speed made its head spin, forcing it to stop.

Adults watched and smiled; children pointed, pleading with their parents to take the kitten home, but their pleas fell on deaf ears. Only one mother asked her son, Are you willing to give up your tablet games? If you are, well take him in. The boy sniffed, shook his head, and kept eating his chocolate ice lolly.

Hungry, the kitten sniffed the air and followed a tantalising scent to a fivestar restaurant named Grandmas Kitchen. The scent of roasted meat, boiled fish and fresh oysters made its mouth water. It slipped through a partially open metal door, slipping into a narrow gap that led straight to the kitchens back room, where a pile of cardboard boxes lay.

Just as the kitten settled into an empty box, two men entered. The owner, Chef Harold, frowned at the mess. Edward, you do a brilliant job, but the kitchen needs order, he said. Im shorthanded, so were looking for help. Ten minutes, then Ill check. He handed Edward a broom and a rag.

Edward tossed the last box onto the paved area beside the bins and heard a soft meow. Did I step on something? he muttered, picking up the box. Inside, a pair of shining eyes stared back.

Hope its not a rat, Edward whispered, remembering his childhood fear of rodents. Yet there was no squeak, only the kittens quiet whine. Edward stared, bewildered. Where did you come from? he asked, halfjoking.

He had never imagined working in one of the citys most prestigious eateries. Yet here he was, faced with a stray kitten on the floor. He never considered himself an animal loverhed always refused pets even when his daughter begged for a dog or a catbut he saw no harm in feeding a hungry creature, especially when he could prepare the food himself.

He scooped the kitten back onto the counter and offered it a spoonful of his signature braised turkey in a rich gravy. The kitten devoured it gratefully, finishing in seconds. Just then, Chef Harold returned, eyeing the box. Whats that? he demanded. Did you forget the box? He kicked the cardboard, sending the kitten tumbling.

A cat in my kitchen? Ill fire you on the spot! Harold roared, citing healthcode violations. Edward pleaded, I cant leave it starving. Harold snapped, Out to the bins, now!

Reluctantly, Edward carried the box to the rubbish bins, glanced inside to ensure the kitten was unharmed, set the box aside, and hurried back to the kitchen to finish the dinner rush. The thought of the kitten lingered. Should I slip it into the storeroom until nightfall? he mused, fearing the bald chef might spot it.

Soon, a delivery man in shabby clothes and battered trainers arrived, tossed leftover scraps into the nearest boxunwittingly the same one holding the kittenand carried it toward the same basement from which the kitten had been expelled earlier.

The man, feeling the weight of the box, was promptly stopped by Mrs. Whitmore, who brandished her cane. Youre not welcome here! she shouted, her voice echoing down the alley. The man cursed under his breath, Even a bite of food is denied!

Meanwhile, a little girl named Harriet, sent by her mother to take out the trash, passed Mrs. Whitmore. The old woman seized Harriets hand, pleading, Dear, could you grab that cardboard box for me? Harriet, who knew Mrs. Whitmores reputation but didnt like her, obliged to avoid further nagging.

Harriet tossed the rubbish bag into the bin, lifted the box, and heard a faint scratching. She peered inside and gaspedthere was the kitten, eyes bright with hope. Oh, my! This is a dream come true! she exclaimed, clutching the creature and hopping home.

Her mother met her at the doorstep, shaking her head, What will your father say? Harriet, already smitten, declared she would never let anyone hurt the kitten again.

Later that night, Edward finished his shift, changed into his coat, and rushed outside. The street was dim, but the outlines of discarded cardboard boxes were still visible against the bins. He searched each one, heart sinking with each empty find. He turned on his phones flashlight, calling out, Mewmewmew! Two stray cats answered, patrolling the bins, but the kitten was nowhere to be seen.

Dejected, Edward trudged home, his conscience gnawing at him. What kind of man am I? he thought. My daughter wants a cat, my wife isnt opposed, yet Ive driven it out into the cold. He felt a pang of guilt, a craving for a drink that he never indulgedhis parents had taught him to stay sober.

He texted his partner, Laura, Im home soon, we need to talk seriously. He arrived to find Lily and Emma pale, as if theyd seen a spectre, and Emma clutching the same kitten he had fed with turkey sauce earlier. Tears streamed down Edwards face as he hugged the tiny animal.

Lily whispered, You wanted to tell us something? Edward could only shake his head, I didnt know what to say. He placed the kitten on the kitchen table, where the whole family gathered around, finally embracing the little creature as their own.

From that day on, the Rumford household had a fathers kitten, a mothers kitten, and a childs kittenall the same cat, loved by everyone. The kitten finally had food, shelter, and love.

And so Edward learned that compassion, once ignored, can return to bite you backunless you choose to open your heart in time. The lesson lingered: kindness, even to the smallest, never truly goes unnoticed.