Felix The Railway Cat

‘This is it!’ the announcer cried in excitement, his eyes shining with glee. ‘This is our opportunity. Let’s get the cat!’

2. A ‘Mouse’ in the House

Angie Hunte adjusted her yellow hi-vis jacket and cast her eyes along the commuters bustling through the gateline, stifling a yawn. It was now April, which meant that at last the mornings were lighter and brighter, but getting up at a quarter to five for an early shift was still a struggle, even after all these years. Much as she liked working at the station, some shifts you felt you just plodded your way through.

That morning, though, she felt an unfamiliar fizz of excited anticipation in her stomach as she scanned the faces of the customers coming through the station. She was looking for one face in particular: that of Belinda Graham.

Belinda was a TPE manager who worked at the company headquarters in Manchester, but commuted through Huddersfield every day. It was fortunate she did, for Angie had a very important question to ask her – about a certain station cat. With Andy Croughan, the acting station manager, having at last given the nod to the idea, all the Huddersfield team needed now was for HQ to say yes. But, Angie knew, getting that yes might be easier said than done.

There was no question of skipping this step, though, or of welcoming a cat through the back door. They all wanted it to be above board and proper. Although it had started out as a joke, the Huddersfield team were cat lovers, many of them cat owners themselves, and they took the responsibility of owning a pet seriously. Angie, Gareth, Andy and the others had already decided that, if they got the approval they were hoping for, the cat would be cared for equally by the team. Even Billy had given an – admittedly typically taciturn – acquiescence that he, too, would chip in and help out.

As the cat campaign had gone on, Billy – perhaps worn down by his friend Gareth’s unfailingly upbeat enthusiasm – had come around to the idea. Over time, he’d become quite keen on the concept and would even break into a smile every now and then when Gareth raised the fantasy cat in conversation, and a smile was a rarity with Billy.

‘All right, lad, all right,’ he’d concede, his lips curving unnaturally upwards, as he headed outside for a smoking break, clutching his favourite cigarillos. ‘I agree: a station cat would be grand.’

Billy had cats of his own, including a ginger queen called Jaffa. A railway man to his very bones, he and his wife lived in some old station buildings, and his cats would often hold up the trains as they weaved their way across the rails. Their shared love of cats was another thing that he and Gareth had bonded over, for Gareth was the proud owner of Cosmo, a fluffy black-and-white moggy with a massive tail. But one cat was not enough for Gareth – and, at last, the station cat seemed within his reach.

But first Angie had to work her magic. Angie was a brilliant people person – part of her expertise as a team leader was in managing others, and she always seemed to know exactly who to speak to and more importantly how to speak to them to resolve any issues or to get things done. It was Angie who’d suggested they approach Belinda for permission. Angie knew her of old, and she knew Belinda was a doer: someone who meant business and was willing to roll her sleeves up and make things happen. Nothing was ever too much trouble for Belinda. Angie gave another glance at the commuters, but it was still a little early, and there was no sign of Belinda’s distinctive short blonde hair amidst the trickle of customers coming through the gates.

Angie rehearsed in her head what she was going to say, and couldn’t help the almost guilty smile that twitched at her lips as she did so. For the team had decided they couldn’t leave things to chance, but instead were going to pull out all the stops to bring this cat home. And so the conversation Angie was about to have was in some ways just as creative as the hand-drawn posters that Gareth had been mocking up for the past three years.

Another surge of customers swelled through the concourse, and Angie suddenly recognised the tiny figure of Belinda weaving among them.

‘Belinda!’ she called out urgently, bustling over to her with a practised air, neatly avoiding the steady stream of commuters.

‘All right, Angie?’ The manager greeted her warmly.

‘Have you heard what’s happened here?’ Angie began, lowering her voice discreetly, as though she didn’t want the customers passing by to overhear.

Belinda’s brow creased in concern. ‘No, what?’ she asked, expecting any manner of emergency. Angie was a very experienced team leader – if she needed to call on head office for support, it must be serious.

‘Do you know, we’ve got a mouse in the mess room?’ Angie whispered theatrically, as though aghast, acting her shock and horror at this supposed ‘pest invasion’ perfectly. ‘Sharon, one of the girls in the office, she says she’s seen a mouse.’