Albert held Esmeralda with both hands and moved her towards me to stroke her.
“I'm not so sure about this!”
“It'll be ok Amy just stroke her gently on her head and down her back.” My dad said encouragingly. “But no sudden moves!”
“Just slowly and gently!”
“OK Dad!”
I raised my right hand to stroke her. Doing just what my Dad had said.
As I stroked her she flinched a little. But she soon got used to my stroking her.
Albert held her firmly but gently I could tell he was used to handling creatures. I cannot really describe how she felt when I was stroking her. Her fur felt coarse on her back but softer on her head.
“Hello Esmeralda.” I said to her in a soft voice, almost a whisper.
She was very responsive to my touching her. But as I was petting her, I heard a hissing noise like someone opening a bottle.
This was followed by the most horrible smell. Like bad eggs.
“Pooh what’s that?”
“It's alright lass shi's just dropped one!”
“She has too!” My dad said loudly.
Then came another escape of air followed closely by another bad smell.
It was then that I pulled my hand away from stroking her, because for some reason I thought my stroking her may be causing her to break wind.
“Is she normally like this, when someone strokes her?”
“Aye lass she can get a bit flatulent on occasion!”
Just then Esmeralda gave out another poop but this time there was no hissing like air from a bottle or a deflating balloon.
But a mega trump. Followed by an almighty stink. Like rotting cabbage.
“Ha don't know what's up wi er today. Shi can bi windy at best a times, but normally they don't smell this bad!”
“Ha wonder if shi picked owt up when shi were down hole this morning? Ha think had best put a back in her bag. "Shi likes it in there!”
“Might be a good idea Albert!” My dad said.
“Yes!” I said.
Albert put her back in her bag, and slung it over his shoulder.
“Thad better come art and stretch thi legs Queenie!”
Queenie barked loudly with excitement, shaking her body.
But wasted no time in obeying her master’s voice and jumped from the car and ran to the right side of Albert, as if she had been trained to do so.
“Arthur aren’t yeah gonna offer mi a drink? Am parched lad!”
“Come round the back, we can sit outside its still nice!”
We walked around the house again. But this time with Albert, Esmeralda, in her bag and a very fussy and excited Queenie following behind. She was so excited that she kept jumping up at me and almost knocked me over twice.
Albert kept telling her off.
“Queenie bi still lass!”
My dad offered for Albert to take a seat at the patio table, which he did.
“I'll go put the kettle on Albert. Do yeah fancy a cup a tea?”
“Tea lad ant tha got awt stronger?”
“Fancy a beer then?”
“Nar tha talking!”
My dad said nothing more but went in the house to fetch him a beer.
Albert took the bag from his shoulder with Esmeralda in it and lay it down on the table. I could see her move and riddle around. Occasionally there would be a hissing sound coming from the bag followed by a bad smell.
I stayed outside with Albert while my dad got the drinks. We talked about how nice the garden was. The weather, life in general, smelly pets.
Just then my dad came out of the house with a tray. On it was glass of beer for Albert and two glasses of orange juice, one for me and one for himself. He took a seat at the table next to me.
“Hav just been telling Amy Arthur that yuv got a nice garden.
Very grand indeed!”
“Yeah I keep working at it!”
“I meant to ask ya earlier Albert but why have you turned up after all this time I haven't seen you for five years. The last time you came was at my fortieth birthday party!”
“Are well fo a long time ha thought ha wouldn't be welcome judging bi what happened that neet!”
“Yeah things did get a bit out of hand Albert!”
“Tha mean Ha did. Ha were only havin a bit a fun!”
“A bit a fun? Ya tried to cop off with every women in the place. If they were attached or not!”
“Then ya head butted Calamity's best mate’s boyfriend!”
“Sorry Mate!”
“Sorry mate doesn’t quite cut it. Calamity can't stand ya.
“Is there anybody who actually likes ya apart from me?”
Albert just shook his head. “No Kid ha can't say there is!”
With this I began to feel a little bit sorry for Albert and how hardly no one likes him.
I could tell he was lonely. Or at least I thought so. Only having Queenie and Esmeralda for company.
Albert picked up his glass of beer and drank it down to the bottom of the glass in seconds flat. I had never seen a drink disappear quicker than that before. It was as if he was throwing it down a drain.
“By Arth that were grand. Any danger of another?”
“Amy would ya go and get Albert another can of beer?”
“OK dad.” I left taking myself into the house.
My mum was sat at the kitchen table and she had been listening to what my Dad was saying to Albert.
She whispered to me. “When is he going to go Amy?”
I whispered back to her. “I'm not sure mum! He's just asked for another can of beer my dad asked me to come and get one for him.”
“Your dad is not drinking beer is he?”
“No Mum he's drinking orange juice like me!”
“That's ok then!”
“Why don't you like Albert Mum?”
“It's a long story Amy, I'll tell you later, but for now you better get a can and take it to Albert. Tell your dad that we are going out tonight and he needs to get ready, so then ya dad will take the hint that he needs to ask him to go!”
“But we're not going are we mum?”
“No Amy we're not but Albert doesn’t know that!”
My mum and Dad always taught me to tell the truth and be truthful but I realised that Mum and Dad would tell lies if it meant that they would hurt some ones feelings, if the truth was told.
And if my Dad told Albert to just get lost then this would hurt his feelings, despite everything Albert was dad’s best and oldest friend.
And he had come today to make peace with Dad and brought him the rabbits.
I went to the fridge to get some beer and went out to the patio. Where my dad and Albert by now were having a good laugh about something that happened to them before my Mum and Dad were married. By now my dad was sat with his feet up on the other chair and seemed very happy talking to his old pal.
“Thanks Amy for getting the beer for Albert!”
I gave the can to Albert.
“Thanks Amy thara life saver!”
“You’re welcome!”
Albert pulled the ring off the can and poured the beer into his glass. He poured it very skill fully, never spilling a drop.
He made a nice creamy head on the top. He placed the can on the table and took another large gulp from the glass. But this time he did not pour it straight down his neck but savoured it.
“Dad my mum said that we’re going to have to get ready soon because we’re going out remember?”
My dad looked very vacant as if to say we’re not going out tonight. But then realised it was a rouse to get Albert to go.
My dad cleared his throat with a hur hum and said “Oh yeah Amy yeah right we are going out tonight. And we will have to be getting ready soon!”
“Ok mate hal finish this and hal be on mi way!”
“Ya going anywhere nice?”
“We're off to the pictures.”
“
Oh what ya off to see?”
I could tell my Dad was a bit lost for words.
So I piped up and said. “Bob Fielding’s Last Stand.”
“Oh yeah Bob Fielding’s Last Stand!”
“Wats it a bart?”
My dad said “Not sure.” You could tell he had not heard of it but was playing along. It was a real film and I wasn’t making it up. It had just been released. Anyway even if it wasn’t real Albert was convinced.
“By eck it sounds a right barrel a laughs. Am glad am not going to see it!”
Moments later Albert drained his glass and got up from the chair. My dad and me walked around the side of the house to the drive, where Albert's mucky car stood.
Albert gestured for Queenie to jump in the back of the car and he placed the bag with Esmeralda in it. But before he did place the bag in the car he opened it and her head popped up again.
“Bye Esmeralda, nice to meet you!” And I patted her on the head. This was followed by a Hiss of air escaping, followed again by another foul smell, like sower milk.
“I'll put her back in now and ha think wi best bi off. Nice meeting thi again Amy!”
“Nice meeting you, and Esmeralda and Queenie. Buy Queenie!”
She barked when she heard her name and began to wag her tail.
“Sit darn fussy britches!” Albert said.
Albert closed the back door and made his way to the driver’s seat. He sat in the front seat closed the door and started the engine. He said bye to me again and my dad through the open window.
My dad said "Don't leave it as long next time!”
“Ha won't. Tha knows where I am too!”
“Ya ha do!”
He put the car in gear, pulling off the drive turning into Cogan.
“Dad?”
“Yes Amy.”
“He wasn’t wearing his seat belt!”
“No love he wasn’t was he?”
“It's against the law isn’t it dad?”
“Yes it is Amy. But that's Albert for ya!”
“That Ferret doesn’t half pong Dad!”
“I know love, so does the dog and so does Albert!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Amy Pleb and the Lost Kitten.
It was nearly one month off my birthday and for weeks and weeks I had been dropping hints to my mum and dad as to what presents I wanted. I had been looking in magazines and catalogues and making lists as to what I wanted, especially when they were around.
I had also mentioned for the hundredth time that I wanted another pet. Particularly another Cat, that is a Kitten. I wanted another Kitten to be a companion for Tilly. Tilly was over three years old now and fully grown, and I felt that she would enjoy life more if she had a feline friend she could relate to.
Every time I would start talking about having another pet, my parents would pretend not to listen or ignore me. Or do what my dad called Cock a deafen. And if they did not ignore me, they would just say “Amy you have enough pets, that is you have Tilly, Fluffy and Stuffy the two guinea pigs and the gold fish Simon and Karl.
Often my dad would ask me are you going to look after a kitten if you get one. Yes I would always reply. But my dad would always ask the question, "who cleans out the guinea pigs Amy?”
“I do dad!”
“When was the last time you cleaned out the guinea pigs Amy?”
I could not answer because I never did clean them out. It was always left to my mum or dad. More often than not my Dad.
But my Mum would be the one who would clean out the fish tank. Though often I do help with this.
So this leads me to the conclusion that I will not be getting another pet for my Birthday. But I still live in hope.
Arthur Pleb picks up the story from here.
Any way Amy did get a Kitten, it was one week before her Birthday, It was on the Friday the last day of the summer holiday, when she would return to school on the following Monday.
Calamity had gone to fetch the Kitten, which she had seen a week earlier. But she could not pick it up until today because it still needed to be with its mum and was still being litter trained.
I had been instructed by Calamity to keep Amy in the back Garden. I was in the Garden mowing the lawn. Amy was playing around in the garden. Calamity drove the 10 miles to Cogan to collect the little brat. Sorry Kitten. I have spent most of my time trying to convince Amy that I did not want another pet particularly a cat, because I tell her that I hate them. But I love them really they’re my favourite animal apart from a Stead. (That’s a name for a Horse around here).
Anyway about half an hour later Calamity came back from her secret mission to collect the Kitten. She pulled into the drive, before getting out she rang me on my Mobile.
“Hi love I'm on the drive, where's Amy?”
“She’s in the garden.” I whispered. "She's under the apple tree playing!”
“I'm going to bring him in now I will bring him into the kitchen and put him on the kitchen table. Then you bring her in and her give her a big surprise!”
“Ok love will do.”
Calamity Pleb picks up the story from here.
I put the phone down on Arthur and grabbed the kitten who was in the kitten box. I had placed him on the front seat with the seat belt tied around the box.
I unfastened this and lifted the box out of the car, carrying it by the handle. The occupant gave a bit of a squeal and meow but he was fine. He had been meowing a little on the way here but otherwise he had been a model passenger.
I carried him from the car, to the front door opening it with my key. I quietly slipped down the hall way and into the kitchen. I did exactly what I said I was going to do and placed the box on the table with the kitten in it.
Arthur Pleb Picks up the story again from here.
I shouted to Amy “Mums home!” But trying to give Calamity time to get into the kitchen.
“Come on Amy lets go and see mum!”
Amy came when called and I led her into the kitchen. I was of course the first through the door and I could see the kitten sat in the cat box on the kitchen table. The kitten looked so tiny and forlorn sat in a box which was ten times too big for him. He was a cute little thing. A Grey Tabby kitten with wonderful black markings.
He was squeaking, like kittens do and gave the odd meow.
Amy came into the kitchen a few moments behind me. She did not even appear to notice the large cat box on the table, let alone the meowing sound coming from it or the Kitten inside.
She by passed the table completely and went to the sink to make herself some cordial which was on the work surface.
“Amy?” I asked. “What’s that on the table?”
Amy Pleb will take it from here.
I looked at the table and saw the box sat there. I had not noticed it as I walked in. I had heard squeals and meowing before but I thought they had been made by Tilly. I then turned to look at the box and saw the most beautiful Kitten I had ever seen.
“Wow Dad!”
“Isn’t he great Amy?”
“Yes he is!”
“Is he a boy Calamity?” My dad asked mum.
“Yes love he is!”
“Great mum I wanted a boy!”
“Are you going to thank your mum Amy for finding such a great kitten?”
“Oh thanks mum he's brill!”
Arthur Pleb picks up the story again.
Amy was completely besotted by her new kitten. She took him from the cat box, very gently of course so as not to spook him.
She handled him very well. She played with him for some time and never got bored with him. Tilly came up to him, sniffed at him, looked him up and down and sniffed at him again. The kitten seemed far happier to see her than she was of him.
She sniffed him again, looking him up and down and then slunk off.
As much as to say Amy how could you like that matted ball of fur, more than me. Tilly went into the lounge and
lay down on the rug and went to sleep. Amy made her new addition a bed in the old scullery and gave him some kitten food and a nice cool bowl of water to drink.
The New Kitten gets a name.
Arthur continues with the story.
Over the next few days, the kitten had settled in very well. Even Tilly seemed to approve of the little chap. But he still remained nameless, because Amy could still not find a suitable name for him.
Amy, Calamity and me, had all tried to come up with a name. Amy's list included Charlie, Billy, Bobbie and Toby.
Calamity came up with, Sammy, Grey (because he was grey) and even smoky.
I had thought of Algernon, Bertram, (Berty or Bert), Alerwishes, Chuck and even Crabtree.
But both Amy and Calamity thought that the names I had come up with were from the sublime to the ridiculous. So they were not even placed on the final list.
The names that were on the list were, Billy, Charlie, Sammy and smoky. These were the main candidates. Though I still thought that Algernon was a great name for the new arrival, because I think he has a very regal look about him, almost superior. And Algernon seemed to sum that up. But again neither Amy nor Calamity agreed.
The final choice was made after each of us had put the names of their choosing in a hat I had bought in Australia a couple of years ago. Amy picked out Charlie, Calamity smoky and I got Sammy.
But Amy after all that messing about with lists and picking slips out of a hat chose Charlie anyway. And so the new addition to the family was now called Charlie. And it was a good choice too. Only one hour after the official naming ceremony, Charlie got into some mischief.
He tried to get on to one of the kitchen chairs by making a leap for the seat pad. He successfully stuck his claws into the pad but it was not tied to the chair as Calamity who had just washed it had not fastened it to the chair and he came flying off, pulling the seat pad with him. He landed on the floor on all fours like a good kitten should.
He looked a little dazed but he just shook his head then went off on the next adventure. This led him to attacking the pedal bin. He took a running jump at the object thinking that maybe it was some kind of animal. He ran at it, hit it and bounced off.
“He's a right Charlie!” I said. And the name stuck.
Amy takes up the story again.
It was the final Saturday of my week of disasters. I woke up early. I was due to go to my drama group that morning at 10.30am. I went downstairs after turning off the alarm. My mum and dad were still in bed.
I went to see Charlie. Charlie and Tilly slept in the old scullery.
This is where mum has her laundry room, where the washing machine and the tumble dryer live.