I wont live with you any longer! Nothing I do pleases you! Susan glared at her mother, her face hot with injustice. All right, when I was little: dont go there, dont do that but Im twenty, Mum! Twenty. Ive been an adult for two years now.
Well, if youre an adult and dont wish to live with us, youd best find a job, rent and pay for your own flat. Thats my answer, daughter.
Unbelievable! Susan huffed. One moment, its study, darling, dont go to parties, focus on your books, and the next, go and get a job. What about my degree, isnt that important? Couldnt you support your own daughter, just a bit?
Youre an independent girl. You dont want our advice, her father chimed in. So, if you dont want us interfering in your life or telling you how to live, nows your chance to be entirely self-sufficient.
Of course, the idea didnt thrill Susan. Her mother never pressed her to help with housework or cooking, and her father covered the household bills, bought food, and even slipped her a bit of cash onto her bank card now and again. Living at home was easy, simple except for the constant meddling. If only her parents would just keep their opinions to themselves
But Susan was as stubborn as they come her family often joked about some great-great grandmother who had been a rabid suffragette. Whenever they grumbled about Susans wilfulness, that tale was always mentioned.
So she found a job and rented a tiny bedsit not far from the university. For the first time, she understood what it meant to not have enough money. Susan had heard the phrase in passing: on the bus, in her parents conversations about friends, or in daytime talk shows muttering, Cant even afford the basics.
Rent for the small flat swallowed up most of her not-particularly-generous wage. She still had to buy food, pay for travel, and sort the rest. The rowdy parties shed dreamed of faded quietly into the background of her mind. Without even noticing, Susan learned to value what she earned, and her parents nagging began to seem less unreasonable.
One evening, coming home from work, she walked behind two teenage lads, loud and crude, tossing about lewd jokes. Susan shook her head. Did they have anything sensible in their brains at all?
Up ahead, seated on the steps of an old, out-of-business shop, was an elderly woman. Susan often saw her there. The old lady would sit muttering indistinctly, a battered tin at her feet, into which passers-by would sometimes toss a few coins. In the age of cards and contactless, coins and crumpled fivers were rare in any pocket, yet Susan tried to save a few pence here and there for the old lady. She couldnt quite say why; as a child, shed never have spared a glance.
But calling her a beggar would be unfair. Despite the threadbare clothes and her battered tin, there was a dignity about her. She nodded gratefully to anyone who offered something and sat, week after week, on those cold grey steps.
As the boys passed, one of them gave the tin a sharp kick. It rattled across the pavement, pennies skittering everywhere.
The old lady struggled to her feet and stooped to scoop up what coins she could, her fingers clumsy but determined.
What do you think youre doing, you idiots! Susan flared up and dived down to help.
The lads clattered off, jeering at her over their shoulders, unbothered by rebuke.
Here you go, Susan said, handing the woman the scattered coins. She reached into her wallet and pressed a crumpled five-pound note into the womans hands.
Thank you, the old lady replied softly. Her eyes, though her face was creased with wrinkles, looked almost young. I recognise you. You always give something.
She smoothed the battered tin with shaky fingers. Its all dented now. Ill have to find another.
Susan realised the womans hands trembled and she looked unwell. Do you live far?
The old lady shook her head. See those flats through the courtyard? Top floor. Thats me.
Ill walk you there, Susan said, offering her arm. You look a bit wobbly.
My hearts playing up. Got upset. The woman leant heavily on Susans arm. Thank you. I wont keep you long, love.
Up in a small third-floor flat, they were nearly bowled over by a crowd of cats. Susans eyebrows shot up she nearly lost count.
Twelve, the old lady said by way of explanation. Never thought Id end up with so many.
But why keep them all? Susan asked.
Its not that I need them, child. They need me. Without me, theyd not survive. Tilly and Princess I found them in a bag on a freezing night behind the bins. Tilly could hardly breathe. Fluffy I rescued from a gang of boys, and Mr Tom found me at the corner shop. Daisy appeared in the basement, so I brought her and the kittens home before they were poisoned… You must think Im batty.
No, not at all! Susan blushed. Its just, well, its a lot, and they must eat a lot
Thats why I take my tin outside. The old lady nodded.
They grew close after that. It sounds odd, but Susan couldnt simply go back to her old life, pretending nothing had changed. She visited Miss Edith, as the old lady called herself, often. Susan shared her story online. To her surprise, amid the snide remarks, there appeared messages of kindness, offers to help with food or vet visits. Soon, there were more.
Darling, her father said carefully, why are you so caught up in all this? Youve never been a great animal lover.
Dad, it isnt just about the animals. We never spoke about pets at home I never even considered asking for a dog or cat. Now I wonder, why not?
Susan went quiet a moment. Miss Edith says it’s not that she needs the cats, but that they need her. Its true without her, theyd have no chance.
So are you going to fill your own flat with cats and turn into a spinster? her father growled. Thats what people used to call women who took in all the stray cats and never married.
Im not filling my flat with cats, Susan retorted. I wanted to take one to help Miss Edith, but my landlady said absolutely not. But just because I wont, doesnt mean Im a child or a fool. Im grown up, and Im not doing anything wrong.
You arent, her dad sighed. Still, wasting your youth on this… love, your mother and I, we just worry for you.
No need to worry, Dad. Honestly, Im fine.
Susan kept helping Miss Edith. Thanks to social media, she found homes for four of Daisys kittens. But eight stayed on with their old mistress most were well into their dotage, past the age where anyone else would take them. Miss Edith, after so long, couldnt imagine life without them.
Sue, if anything happens to me, youll look after them, wont you? Miss Edith asked one day. I know its a lot to ask, but youre all they have. Theres no one else I trust.
Susan had wondered why she lived alone. One day, Miss Edith, pain in her voice, told her: I might have had a granddaughter, one like you. But things didnt work out. Her only son had divorced turns out he couldnt have children and hed been killed on duty some years before. So shed ended up like this, alone with her cats, never able to turn away from a creature in pain.
One day Susan arrived to find the flat silent and no one at the door. She rang the neighbour.
Excuse me, have you seen Miss Edith? Has she gone out?
Susan? Oh dear, no, she wasnt well this morning. Hang on Ive got a key
Inside, Miss Edith lay peaceful, as if sleeping. Her wrinkles seemed to have melted away, her face serene. The cats milled, mewling with confusion.
Oh, bless her, shes gone, the neighbour breathed, crossing herself. Susan began to weep. Shed never known loss like this.
What do we do now? she kept asking helplessly.
My girl, look, shes left you a note, said the neighbour.
Susan, through her tears, read the words, shaky, angled, but deliberate. Miss Edith bequeathed her flat to Susan and begged her not to abandon the cats.
Youre the only one I trust with them, my dear ran the note, as tears streamed from Susans eyes.
Susan never imagined how much legal wrangling such a bequest would cause. Shed have been lost if it werent for Tom.
Shed met Tom when she wrote her first post about the cats; hed been among the few to write kind words. They messaged, became friends, and later more. Toms family loved animals theyd always had pets growing up, and he volunteered at rescue shelters. Thanks to him, they had managed to rehome four of Daisys kittens.
Tom was a law student, and his support was invaluable as Susan navigated Miss Ediths final wishes.
Sue! Amazing! her friend Helen exclaimed. Youve got your own flat! Ask Tom to move those cats into a shelter, job done!
Helen, I cant, Susan protested. I promised Miss Edith I wouldnt abandon them.
Shes dead, shell never know. Youve lost your mind, Sue! What if they live forever?
As long as theyre here, theyre here. I cant break my word. Theyre so sweet.
Youre talking like an old lady! Helen cackled. Even your dad called you a spinster. With all these animals, no one will visit you, and you’ll never land a bloke.
Helen, you know I havent got a bloke.
And you wont! Helen snapped. Sorry, but I dont get it.
Her parents were no more supportive.
The flats a boon, her mother said, pacing, but it all feels dodgy, like some film. A strangers inheritance!
Whats odd? her father shot back. The old lady was daft. Got Sue involved, made her promise, ruined her life.
Rubbish! Susan shouted. She meant well.
For her cats, her mother huffed. Not for you, silly. Just a way to ease her conscience. She never thought of the future.
Susan left her parents downcast. Everyone was against her, telling her to dump the cats and be done.
Sue, wait! Tom caught her near Miss Ediths old block. Hello! Are you all right? You seem upset.
Tom, do you think Im daft? she asked bluntly.
Why? he blinked.
The cats. Everyone my parents, my friends says Ive wrecked my life by keeping them. Maybe its not too late to give up the flat?
Give it up? Tom looked at her, honest as ever. Miss Edith trusted you. If not for you, they’d be on the street. Or simply put down.
You dont mind my decision?
No. Its rare to meet someone truly sincere and good. Im glad I met you. Oh, and someone onlines interested in taking two of the cats. I was just coming to tell you.
Really? I hope shes kind… Susan fretted.
Shell come by, well meet her, dont worry
When Susan and Tom married, four of the original twelve cats stayed with them. Mrs Jones next door took Tom; Hes always been a favourite. Another went to Toms parents: No trouble Tom kept bringing them home as a boy!
When Susan came back from hospital with baby Matthew in her arms, there in the corridor, lined up in a row, sat Tilly, Princess, Fluffy, and Daisy.
Nannies at the ready! Tom joked. Or should we say granny-cats?
Hello, Susan smiled fondly, Did you miss me? Ill put Matt to bed and then fuss over you, my furry inheritance.One of the cats brushed against her leg, purring as if to say, Welcome home, as always. Susan knelt, soothing fur and ears, and thought about all the ways love could surprise you: sometimes, it came as a reckless suffragettes spirit in your blood; sometimes, as an odd inheritance crammed with cats and obligations. Sometimes, it was in keeping promises for someone who saw younot as a foolish girl, but as someone strong enough to care.
I made it, Miss Edith, Susan whispered, gaze drifting to the sun-warmed window and the gentle world outside. Were all home.
And if, on quiet evenings, when the baby slept and Tom read nearby, Susan heard the faintest echo of a kind old voice or caught a flash of a shadow on the stairsshe just smiled, heart full, knowing there are many ways to belong. Sometimes, the family we make is gathered softly, paw by paw, promise by promise, until the little flat was overflowingnot with burdens, but with the enduring, unexpected warmth of love.
