Christmas at the Cat Cafe

A few weeks earlier I would have delighted in seeing elegant, reserved Ming flinging herself around in such an ungainly fashion, but instead I felt touched that she had, finally, revealed her playful side. I took it as a sign of trust that she felt able, at last, to let down her guard with us.

As the morning wore on, a delicious aroma of roasting turkey began to drift out of the kitchen, drawing Eddie across the room to pace back and forth in front of the counter, sniffing the air hopefully. When John peered furtively through the window from the pavement, Sophie stood up to let him in, making sure to close the café door softly behind him. He placed a bag of gifts in an empty chair and immediately came over to sit beside my window cushion. ‘There you go, Molly,’ he whispered, adjusting my collar carefully with hands that smelt of soap.

John winked at me, then stood up and went over to the counter.

‘Happy Christmas, ladies,’ he shouted through the kitchen doorway. Debbie emerged from the steamy kitchen in her Crazy Cat Lady apron, wiping her forehead with the back of her arm. ‘Nice apron,’ John murmured, stretching over the counter to give her a kiss.

‘Suits her, doesn’t it?’ Linda quipped, poking her head through the doorway from the kitchen. ‘Shall we have a cup of tea?’ she said cheerfully.

‘Already, Linda? We haven’t got the potatoes on yet,’ Debbie replied, glancing anxiously at her watch.

‘Yes, please,’ Sophie piped up from the armchair in front of the stove.

‘I’ll make it. You two take a break for five minutes,’ John said, pulling a stool over for Debbie.

Realizing she was outvoted, Debbie reluctantly sat down.

‘I’ll just get the Fortune Cookies,’ Linda said brightly, as John made his way around the counter.

‘Fortune Cookies?’ Debbie repeated, looking puzzled. ‘They’re not exactly festive, Lind. If you’re hungry, there are mince pies in the—’ But Linda had already followed John into the kitchen, and Debbie found herself addressing the empty doorway. She tutted and rolled her eyes, drumming her fingers on the counter while John and Linda assembled the tea things in the kitchen.

After a couple of minutes, they emerged with a tray full of mugs and the Tupperware box of Fortune Cookies.

‘I’ve got some new mottoes,’ Linda explained, rummaging around inside the box. ‘I’d like to know what you think.’

Debbie gave a defeated shrug and picked up a steaming mug, half-heartedly taking the cellophane-wrapped cookie Linda handed to her.

‘I’ll go first, shall I?’ John said, unwrapping his cookie. ‘Fortune favours the brave,’ he read.

Debbie nodded, albeit with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm.

‘Okay, how about mine,’ Linda said quickly. ‘Some pursue happiness, others create it.’

Debbie remained taciturn.

Sophie placed her mug on the counter and cleared her throat. ‘Your heart knows the answer your head has been searching for.’

‘Um, I think—’ Debbie began.

‘You haven’t read yours yet,’ Linda remarked offhandedly, cutting her sister off mid-sentence.

Debbie sighed and unwrapped the twist of cellophane that she had absent-mindedly placed on the counter. ‘If there is a day to act on the love in your soul, it is today.’ She looked around at their expectant faces and smiled vaguely, as if sensing that diplomacy was called for. ‘They’re good Linda. Although, if I’m honest, I think the last batch was funnier,’ she demurred.

The backhanded compliment seemed to glide off Linda, and she gave a nonchalant shrug.

‘Actually, Debs,’ John said quietly, ‘Linda didn’t write the mottoes. I did.’

Debbie looked at him, nonplussed. ‘I, don’t, er . . .’ she stammered in confusion.

‘Molly’s got your Christmas present,’ John explained, taking her by the elbow and steering her across the room towards me.

Debbie looked utterly bewildered as she scanned the windowsill around my cushion. ‘What do you mean, I don’t see any—’ Suddenly she gasped and one hand flew up to her mouth.

John knelt down in front of me and carefully untied the diamond ring he had attached to my collar with a ribbon. ‘Good work, Molly,’ he said, rubbing my head. Then, still kneeling, he turned towards Debbie and fixed her with a look that was at once hopeful and terrified. ‘Molly’s dying to know, Debs. Will you marry me?’

Across the room, Linda was biting her fist, and Sophie had taken out her mobile phone to film them.

Debbie uncovered her mouth and let her trembling hand drop by her side. A suspenseful silence settled over the room.

‘Yes, I will,’ she whispered.

There was a shriek and a whoop from across the café and, beaming broadly, John stood up and slid the ring onto Debbie’s left hand.

‘I can’t believe I just got engaged, wearing a Crazy Cat Lady apron!’ Debbie wailed, smiling through her tears as John pulled her close and kissed her tenderly.