"Darling," he smiles as he opens the door. Oh, he definitely thought this was another PD session. His face falls when he sees me there in my messy hang-around-the-house clothes, surrounded by boxes and bags and a cat carrier in my hand.

"Amelia? What the f—"

"Be good and give me a hand," I say pretending there is nothing amiss here before pushing past him with Smutty.

Oh wow, this is nice. His house is decorated expensively, but tasteful and homely. I can see dark furniture and shelves with books in the first room on the left. That's where I place Smutty's carrier, so he is out of the way, before turning back to Ben. I was expecting more of a fight, but he’s picked up the scratch post and placed it inside the door to the left. He’s now carrying the box of the cat food and most of the bags into his house.

"Care to explain?" He tries again when our eyes meet.

"Let's just get this all in first," I say and shoo him down the corridor leading to the back of the house. I place the cat litter tray next to the scratch post before grabbing the last of the bags and closing the door.

"Now?" Ben makes me jump as he appears behind me.

"Sure." I push the bags into his hand and wave him off again.

My chest expands as I take a deep breath of relief. Smutty is in. He is safe. That's all I care about even if I basically performed a hostile takeover of Ben’s house. I know I sound a bit nuts but I also know Ben will let me get away with it.

Smutty's pink nose appears through the grid on the door as I lift his carrier. He sniffs the air of his new surroundings as we head in the direction that Ben disappeared. At the end of the corridor I find a living room and a kitchen. Ben is in the kitchen staring at all the bags.

"Ben, I need your help," I start, and his eyes land on me before zoning in on the cat carrier.

"No! No, Amelia. I don't like cats!" he exclaims with big eyes.

"Oh, come on! Smutty wouldn’t hurt a fly," I coo and open the cat carrier door. My beautiful black furball jumps out and immediately attacks one of the tassels of the rug on the floor. I laugh nervously when Ben raises an eyebrow.

I try to swat Smutty off the tassel but he takes that as a sign for a little rumble and attacks my hand with his ears pressed tightly against his head. He carefully sinks his teeth into my palm whilst clamping on tightly with his paws. He would never hurt me but even I can see that this doesn't look good.

"Clearly, tame like a lion," Ben says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

15

Smelly Cat

Ben

This isn't going to happen. I have never and will never be a cat person. Amelia is standing in front of me with messy hair, nervously pulling on her ratty T-shirt. Her eyes are full of fear. And I feel a small crack in my armour.

"Ben, please." She takes a step closer. "My landlady has to make some repairs to my boiler tomorrow morning, and I can't find anywhere else for Smutty to stay. She doesn't know that I have him because she won't allow cats. Please." Her voice breaks and a tiny tear runs down her cheek. Amelia is not someone who will fake cry to get what she wants. Come to think of it, Amelia is also not a person to ask for help. If she’s here begging me to take her cat it must be serious and mean a lot to her.

"Come here." I hold out my arms and she takes tentative steps before finally allowing herself to sink into my embrace. It feels so natural, so right.

"Smutty is my whole world. I can't let my landlady know that I have him, she’ll make me give him up. I can't lose him," she cries softly into my chest. Ah fuck, how can I say no to that?

"Fine."

"Fine?" She lifts her head and gives me a big grin. "Did you hear that, Smutty? You can stay with Ben!" The only response we get is some awful retching before the cat spits a tiny furball onto my kitchen floor. Amelia‘s cheeks turn pink and she rushes to grab a kitchen towel from the counter.

"He doesn't do that often. If he got it out now he'll be good for a few weeks," she mumbles apologetically as she mops up the vomit.

"Sure." I wipe my face with my hands. This is so not how I’d imagined this evening would go. "Do you want some dinner?" I ask her.

In the hope that's what she was coming over for I defrosted some pasta sauce.

"No, can't, sorry. I have to go home and make sure there’s nothing left to give Smutty away. Right, he gets dry food throughout the day and wet food in the evening. All the food is in the box. You should put the litter box somewhere he can easily get to and place him in it at least three times tonight even if he doesn't need to go, so he remembers where it is. There are tons of toys but mainly he just sleeps," she rattles off instructions whilst retreating towards the door. Smutty and I follow her, not ready for her to leave.

"Bye, Smutty." She picks up the furball, cuddles him and presses her lips to his head. He gives a little meow before she places him on the floor again.

"Thank you, Ben. I’ll text you all the instructions." She places her soft lips on my cheek and it takes everything for me not to pull her close for a proper kiss. She’s given me blue balls the whole week, ignoring my messages again after that evening we had and clearly there is no relief in sight.

She slides out of the door before I can reply, leaving me and the cat alone in the corridor. He sits on the floor next to me and stares at the closed door.

"Welcome to my house, I guess." I stuff my hands in my jeans’ pockets and grin at him. He just gives me a look of discontent before turning his nose up and walking away from me like I don't exist. Fuck my life.

Okay, I swear this furball hates me already and he’s only been in the house for an hour. I put the cat litter tray in the utility room. The first time it took ten minutes for me to catch him so I could show him where his fucking toilet is. But he’s not stupid; the second time he saw me coming and had me chase him through the house for twenty minutes before I finally cornered him. In return, he gave my hand a swipe and I now wear three red scratches as a badge of honour.

But we’re not done. He and I are eyeing each other again. It's like he knows that I need to put him into his litter box at least one more time. But before I can make a move, my phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Hey, are you busy?" Coop asks.

"I'm locked in a battle at the moment. What do you need?"

"What battle?" he asks ignoring my question.

"Long story. Actually, do you have a clue about cats?"

"Cats?"

"Yes, how do you catch one?"

Coop chuckles before I hear him repeat my question to who I assume is his soon-to-be wife.

"Lizzie says use food." Fuck, of course! I head to the kitchen to try to find some treats.

"So, what do you need, Coop?" I say and peek into all the bags on the floor. Eventually I find tins of cat food in a box.

"The recruitment agency confirmed our meeting tomorrow to discuss the general manager role," he sounds determined.

I grab the box of dry food and shake it which seems to work like magic because I barely finished rattling it when the black furball shoots into the kitchen like a lightning bolt.

"Ah, gotcha'" I chuckle.

"Sorry?" Coop asks from the other end of the line.

"Not you. Yes, I'm up for a meeting with an agency. The important thing for me is that we keep control over the bigger picture decisions."

"Shit, Ben, me too. We worked too hard, but I need some more time to enjoy life. I need this," he sighs.