Mollie didn’t say anything at first, and as she turned back around, her expression was far from happy. ‘I’m afraid not,’ she said, with a resigned sigh. ‘That was Noah Hathaway. He’s asked me to contact the vet to have Monty put to sleep.’
16
‘What?’ Bella felt sick. ‘But why? Monty might be a bit cantankerous and old, but he’s not seriously ill. Why would Noah make that kind of decision?’
Mollie shook her head. ‘People choose to euthanise their pets for many reasons. Monty belonged to Jack, not Noah, and now Jack’s gone, it seems that no one in his family wants or is able to take Monty on. It could be months before he finds a new home, and there’s no guarantee anyone will come forward for him. And then, even if they do take him, he could end up back with us again if the re-homing fails.’ She sighed. ‘You and I both know that Monty’s not the easiest of cats to love.’
‘Yes, but surely we have to try?’ Bella replied. ‘Noah’s treating Monty like an inconvenience, something disposable. It’s so awful.’ She shook her head. She always told herself not to get too attached to the animals in the rescue centre, but in the months that Monty had been residing at the cattery, she’d grown to love him, even if the feeling wasn’t mutual. She couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him put down because Noah and his family saw the cat as just another possession – part of Jack’s estate to be dealt with and, in this case, got rid of.
‘It’s not our place to argue with owners,’ Mollie reminded Bella quietly. ‘At the end of the day, Monty belongs to Noah and his family now, and if they want to make the decision to put him to sleep, we can’t stand in the way. We’ve advised him on the different options, and he’s taken this choice. That’s where our involvement ends.’
‘I know, but it’s so unfair!’ Bella braced her arms against Mollie’s desk in frustration. ‘Poor Monty. It’s not his fault Jack died and he had to come to us. Why should he pay the price?’ She felt tears blurring her eyes, and she shook her head impatiently. Now wasn’t the time to fall apart.
‘Sometimes, that’s the way it has to be.’ Mollie spoke so quietly, and with such an air of resignation, that Bella looked up from the floor and met her gaze. She looked suddenly older and more tired.
‘Sorry,’ Bella said softly. ‘Me getting upset isn’t helping, is it?’ She slumped down into the chair on the other side of Mollie’s desk. ‘How do you do it, Moll?’ she said, staring back at the floor. ‘How do you stop yourself from getting attached to them all?’
Mollie walked around the desk and put a hand on Bella’s shoulder. ‘You can’t not get attached to them. But it’s knowing when it’s time to say goodbye that’s the important thing. Sometimes, cats die in our care, sometimes we have to make the decision to put the strays who are too old, too injured, or too sick to sleep, and sometimes, as in Monty’s case, it’s not our choice to make. You have to know when to give up, love.’
Bella said nothing for a moment. She knew that Mollie had developed a strong streak of pragmatism in her years running Purrfect Paws that was in part self-preservation. It was, in theory, a healthy counterpoint to her deep wells of compassion. But when faced with a situation like this, it was difficult for Bella herself to emulate Mollie’s example. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she said quietly. ‘But I still don’t like it.’
‘I know, love.’ Mollie gave Bella’s shoulder a squeeze. ‘But there’s nothing we can do. Now, why don’t you put the kettle on, and we’ll have a cuppa before the afternoon rounds?’
Bella nodded and rose from the chair. She forced a smile. ‘Milk and two sugars?’
‘Better make it three.’ Mollie gave a brief grin. ‘I think I need the extra energy today.’
As Bella hurried out to the small kitchen on the other side of reception she couldn’t get Monty’s fate out of her mind. The thought of it made her feel sick, the more she dwelled on it. If only there was some way to convince Noah to reverse his decision. The man hadn’t even clapped eyes on Monty when he’d visited Purrfect Paws. Surely, if he saw him, he’d change his mind? Admittedly, Monty wasn’t the poster boy for cute cat public relations, but surely Noah must hold some residual affection for the crotchety Bengal? After all, Jack had adored him. There had to be some way of getting Monty a stay of execution.
That evening, as she was walking to the Star and Telescope for her shift, she caught sight of Noah heading out of Jack’s cottage. She stopped, unsure if she wanted to speak to him after Mollie’s news. Anger and frustration flared in her gut. His decision felt so unfair to poor Monty who hadn’t done anything wrong. Gritting her teeth, she began walking towards him, hoping he’d say hello and let her get on her way.
‘Hi.’ Noah’s smile greeted her as she drew closer to the wooden gate of Jack’s front garden. ‘Do you ever get any time off? You always seem to be working.’
‘Needs must,’ Bella said briskly. ‘We can’t all have hefty inheritances to fall back on.’
Noah looked startled and a little affronted by her tone.
‘I’m surprised you’re still here,’ Bella added, before she could stop herself. ‘Now that you’ve solved the Monty problem.’
Hurt and uncertainty flickered in Noah’s eyes as he took in her words. ‘Mollie’s spoken to you, then,’ he finally said with a sigh.
‘I was at Purrfect Paws when she took your call.’ Bella looked Noah straight in the eye, challenging him to respond. She knew she shouldn’t be talking to him about this, but the sight of his smug, lean, designer shirt-and-jeans-clad body, locking up the door of a cottage that, when sold, would make a very nice addition to anyone’s bank balance, and the knowledge that poor Monty was going to be put to sleep soon, so that this prick could get on with his metropolitan life, filled her with a combination of anger and envy. Nothing had ever come easily to her, and Noah was exactly the kind of guy for whom everything had fallen into his lap for the whole of his life. Even his dark olive skin looked as though he’d spent a fortune on moisturisers, and those God-given long black eyelashes, framing dark, dark velvet brown eyes were yet another example of how he’d not only won the financial lottery, but the genetic one as well.
‘Look,’ Noah said. ‘Not that it’s any of your business, but we have no choice. Monty’s old, and could get ill, and no one in the family can re-home him. You told me yourself it’s unlikely that anyone else would choose to take him on. What else do you expect us to do?’
‘Us?’
‘My two brothers and I have had to come to a difficult decision. That’s all there is to it.’ Noah began to walk away from her, but something inside Bella had been ignited.
‘I bet it was really difficult, seeing as you haven’t even bothered to come and see him all the time he’s been at Mollie’s.’
Noah stopped walking. ‘It’s easier that way.’
‘For whom? Certainly not for poor old Monty! Your grandfather would be ashamed of you all.’
Spinning around, Noah looked her straight in the eye. ‘Don’t presume to tell me what my grandfather would think,’ he said coldly. ‘He’s not here any more, and I’d appreciate you not sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong.’ With that, he turned his back again and strode off.
Bella started to shake. She hadn’t intended to go that far. Throwing Jack’s recent death at Noah had been a very low blow. She’d often been accused of letting her heart rule her head, and this seemed to be another example of that, an impulsive, stupid decision to confront Noah about something she had no business in talking about. If word got back to Mollie about what she’d said, Mollie would hit the roof, perhaps even sack her. She prayed Noah wouldn’t mention it to Mollie. The last thing she needed was to lose her job at the sanctuary.
