Mollie gave him a quizzical look. ‘I thought you were back off to London after this?’
‘Yes, I am.’ Noah shook his head. ‘Sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night.’
‘It’s a difficult decision, to say goodbye to an animal,’ Mollie said softly. ‘I can understand why you might be feeling unsettled.’
‘No, no, it’s not that. I had a migraine.’
Mollie’s brow furrowed. Noah rather got the impression that she didn’t believe him. There was a short pause before she reached for a manila document wallet on the desk and pulled out the relevant paperwork.
‘If we could go through a couple of things prior to your signature, that would be great.’
Noah’s heart sped up. So, this was it. He felt frustrated at his instant physical reaction at the sight of Monty’s euthanasia paperwork. He’d made the decision; there was no point getting upset about it now.
‘Sure, sure,’ he said hurriedly.
Mollie ran him through the specifics, and he noted them as if on autopilot. All he wanted was to sign and get out of there.
‘That all makes perfect sense. Thanks, Mollie.’ He reached for the pen that was attached to a long string on the front desk and swiftly scrawled his signature on the bottom of the second sheet of paper. He was that desperate for it to end, he didn’t bother reading much of it.
As he handed the paperwork back to Mollie, she nodded and he could see, despite her professional demeanour, more than a trace of sadness in her eyes. ‘Monty’s been a memorable guest here,’ she said. ‘I’ll miss him.’ She paused, before adding, ‘But I’m sure you and the family have come to a decision that’s best for you.’
Noah was sure he wasn’t imagining the whiff of judgement in that comment, and he bristled slightly under her shrewd gaze. ‘Well, you said yourself that he’s very old.’
‘That he is, but age shouldn’t be a barrier.’ Mollie shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Noah. I’m not one to comment, but we will miss him here at Purrfect Paws.’ Mollie popped the paperwork back in the folder and tucked it into the filing cabinet behind the desk. ‘Would you like to see him? I’m sure he’d be pleased to see you.’
Noah drew in a long breath. ‘I suppose I should, really, since I’ve just signed his death warrant!’ He instantly regretted his attempt at black humour as Mollie’s face tightened before she plastered on another smile. He suspected that all residents of Purrfect Paws were regarded as a lot more than just ‘inmates’. It must be impossible not to get attached to the cats in their care, impossible to retain some kind of professional distance, if Bella’s outburst last night was anything to go by, at least.
‘Come this way.’ Mollie came out from behind the desk and led Noah through the side door to the cattery end of Purrfect Paws.
As they walked, Noah wondered where Bella was. He felt a prickle of unease, as if she might suddenly jump out from one of the doors that marked the different areas of the sanctuary and start telling him off again. He tried to hush those thoughts and concentrate on seeing Monty. Monty was the important thing, now.
He was surprised to see that Mollie had some empty enclosures at the moment. ‘It’s kitten season, so we’re usually rammed, but we sent a couple of residents to their new homes this week,’ Mollie said, by way of explanation when he asked. ‘Although I’m sure they’ll be full again in a day or two.’ Noah could see a teenager cleaning out the empty spaces as they passed, plugged into AirPods as she worked.
‘We’re lucky to get weekend volunteers from the local Sixth Form,’ Mollie added. ‘The Duke of Edinburgh’s Award scheme has been very helpful for us, over the years.’
Noah smiled. He got the sense that Mollie’s chatter was a way of trying to put him at ease. ‘It’s good that you get that help.’
Finally, they approached Monty’s enclosure. Noah’s ears pricked up as he heard low singing coming from behind the door. A sweet, gentle voice, so pitch perfect that it didn’t need any accompaniment. He paused, listening keenly for a moment or two. Mollie, who was in front of Noah, also paused, an unreadable look on her face.
‘Monty’s got a visitor, love.’
Noah’s stomach flipped at Mollie’s words. A visitor who’d signed off to end his life, he thought, before firmly pushing that idea to the back of his mind. He mustn’t be influenced by anything now, especially not Monty himself. What was done was done. And itwasgoing to be done.
Standing to one side as Mollie opened the door to Monty’s pen, he caught a glimpse of the last person he wanted to see. There, on the floor gently waggling a catnip fish on a string over Monty’s rolling, happy body, and singing to him sweetly, was Bella.
20
The first thing Noah noticed was Bella’s look of delight at Monty’s shenanigans. The second was how happy and healthy Monty looked. In Noah’s head, and despite the reports from Mollie that were sent as brief email updates every month since he’d been paying Monty’s boarding bill, he’d expected a shrivelled, miserable, skinny cat who only communicated by growling or spitting. He didn’t expect a cat that looked happy and healthy, and full of life.
‘He’s perked up this morning,’ Bella said, without looking behind her to see who the visitor was. ‘On his good days, he loves the catnip fishing rod, but he’s not paid much attention to it lately.’ She smiled down at the cat as he again caught the felted fish with his front paws, and, after letting him nibble and scent it for a few moments, she gently disentangled it from his clutches. ‘It’s good to see him scratching something other than my arms, for a change!’
‘He looks happy,’ Noah said, his voice tight. He watched as Bella’s back stiffened at the sound of his voice before she turned around and their eyes locked.
‘He is,’ Bella said evenly. ‘It’s a good day for him.’
Noah was torn between replying that he was glad Monty’s last day was a good one and ignoring her comment as she rose to her feet.
‘Well,’ Mollie said quickly, obviously sensing something was awry between the two other people in the room. ‘Bella and I will leave you to it, if you want to say your goodbyes. I’ll be in my office when you’re ready.’
