Freddie works as a lorry driver, and his colleagues dont so much dislike him as they keep their distance. Hes a sensible man, an experienced driver and a diligent worker, but hes utterly unsociable.
Nobody wants to team up with him, and he actually enjoys that. One manager gave him a wave and sent him on his way. The other longhaul drivers nickname him Grim, and the name sticks even when they forget his real one.
Todays run is routine: a familiar route, an ordinary freight. He steers the rig, eyes the road
At the side of the motorway, something writhes through the grass. He intends to drive past, wary of roadkill, but something in his chest makes him pull over and check whats happened.
A massive striped tomcat snarls, clearly on the brink of death. They say cats have nine lives, and this one looks like its lost several; its covered in blood, one paw mangled, its fur filthy.
Whats gotten into you, you miserable cat? Freddie asks, leaning over it.
The cat hisses and mews hoarsely, as if saying it needs no help and that Freddie should keep moving.
Freddie recognises the look of a proud animal a cat he once shared a warm hearth with as a child, snuggled next to his grandmothers purring companion. He remembers those comforting evenings now gone.
Im no veterinary surgeon, but I can see this isnt something you can just ignore, he mutters. Theres no shelter nearby, so let me get you to a clinic.
He lifts the cat gently, places it on the back of the cab and secures it. The animal settles down, as if accepting that things wont get worse.
Diverting onto a minor road, Freddie pulls into the small market town of Ashford and finds a veterinary practice. The vet, an elderly gentleman, spots the grimlooking driver with a cat and lets them skip the queue.
Lucky you, lad, the vet says. Well clean you up, put a plaster on, and youll be on your way.
Freddie protests, But Ive got a full load to deliver! The vet shrugs. Theres no animal rescue here, and it isnt a kitten its a fullgrown cat.
The cat watches them, its green eyes boring into Freddies soul, and a pang of guilt hits him. He decides to stay and help.
In the waiting room two older women chat loudly.
My sister Mary kept coming to me yesterday, hiding from her husband, one says.
Hard luck for her, the other replies sympathetically. Shes a good woman, but the blokes a tyrant, they say he even beats her.
Its no wonder she didnt go to work; shes covered in bruises, the first woman adds. The local boss, Mr. Clarke, is turning up at the shop today.
Freddie doesnt linger on the gossip. He knows how badly some people are doing, himself included. He once promised his fiancée hed stay till the end, yet she left after a month, taking their future with her.
The vet hands the cat back to Freddie, It should stitch up like a dogs. In about three weeks well remove the plaster.
Thanks, Freddie says, cradling the cat and heading for the door.
He has no clue what to do with this unexpected gift, but time is tight and his schedule is already off. First he must deliver his freight, then figure out the rest.
He straps the cat onto the sleeper berth and gets back on the road.
A few kilometres on, he spots a woman waving frantically from the verge, a small girl clinging to her.
Sorry, I dont take passengers, Freddie mutters, sticking to his rule.
A sudden Meow! comes from the back.
Awake? Freddie asks the cat. What do you want?
Meow! the cat repeats insistently.
Maybe you need a favor? Freddie thinks. Good thing you spoke up before I drove off.
He stops, lifts the cat onto the grass. The cat instantly lifts its tail, confirming Freddies suspicion.
Hey! Where are you going? the woman shouts, running after them.
Before Freddie can drive off, the woman, dragging the little girl, reaches his cab.
Please, dear, take us! Its only about thirty miles away, she pleads, tears brimming in her eyes.
The girl looks at Freddie, cheeks wet from crying.
Im not a taxi driver, Im a lorry driver, Freddie says. Take the bus!
Were late for our only run, the mother insists. Give us a lift and well thank God for you!
The cat, limping slightly, waddles toward the girl and rubs against her leg. She kneels, strokes it, and the cat purrs.
Let me give you a lift if you take the cat, Freddie offers. Hes already getting attached.
Tears roll down the womans cheeks.
Id love to, I work at a vet, I love animals, but we have nowhere to stay. My aunt lives in the next town; well ask her for a place, she says.
Freddie watches the girl gently pet the cat.
Shes a sweettempered little thing with light curls, clearly frightened. The cat seems content with the attention.
Freddie remembers the vets comment this must be the same Ethel who mentioned a violent husband. He doesnt press further, just nods.
Okay, Ill give you a lift, he says.
Come on, Poppy! the girl cries, delighted.
Freddie lifts the cat, and the little trio climbs into the cab. The woman squeezes onto the passenger seat, the girl settles at the back.
Ill pay, dont worry, the mother offers, but Freddie just grunts, Im not charging.
Thanks, kitty! the woman says, looking at the cat. Whats his name?
Just Tom, Freddie replies. We just met on the road.
Youre a good man! she exclaims. And what should I call you?
Freddie, he grumbles.
Im Ethel, and this is my daughter Poppy, she says.
Will your aunt take him in? Freddie asks, surprised at his own concern.
I hope so, Ethel sighs. We have no phone my husband left us
Freddie hands her his mobile. She whispers hurriedly, Tell Aunt Mabel well come. We cant keep the cat, its too much.
Poppy hiccups, Tom, come home with us, she coos.
Freddie chuckles, Weve already made a deal with the cat.
Ethel apologises, Hes very clingy, I know.
Realising he cant find a home for the cat, Freddie drops the strangers at the address she gave and hands the cat to the waiting aunt.
Poppy clings to Tom, kissing his whiskered face, then darts to Freddie, hugging him with both arms.
Poppy, you cant do that! Ethel yells, startled.
Its because she misses a father, the aunt mutters, so she clings.
Freddie feels a sting in his chest. He had sworn off thoughts of family, of a loving wife and kids, yet this tiny, curlyhaired child pulls at something deep inside him.
Uncle, will you come visit us? Poppy asks, looking up at him with huge eyes. With the cat?
Ill try, Freddie says, unable to give a firm no.
Poppy sighs and runs into the house. Freddie gets back into his lorry and rolls on, the image of the frightened mother and her daughter lingering in his mind.
He turns to Tom and asks, Where do men like you come from, always picking on the weak? The cat hisses, as if agreeing.
Id explain to him why you shouldnt raise your hand against women and children! Freddie mutters.
Mew! the cat replies, as if adding his own biteready argument.
Having the cat beside him calms Freddie; for the first time on the road he has someone to talk to. He confides in Tom about his parents, his army stint, his political views. The cat watches, occasionally meowing in approval.
Look over there, Freddie points to the roadside where two men argue, one jumping onto the carriageway waving his arms. Looks like they need help.
Even the most solitary driver knows the roads unwritten rule: help and youll be helped.
Freddie approaches the men. One pulls a pistol, the other shouts, Get that cat away! Hell scratch my eyes out!
The cat leaps, claws out, and bites the attackers face. The shooter drops his gun, trying to free himself. Freddie grabs the weapon, points it at the bandit.
Hands up! he shouts.
The second thug rushes toward them, Freddie swings his lorrys bumper into his jaw, snatches the cat, and jumps back into the cab.
He dials the highway patrol; the call takes only seconds. Police arrive within half an hour and arrest the two criminals, later telling Freddie theyve been on the forces radar for a while.
One officer jokes, The country needs to know its heroes!
Freddie sighs, Im no hero. Id have tied you both up myself if Id had the chance.
The officer nods, Youve saved a lot of lives today, even that cat.
Freddie looks at Tom. Tom looks back.
My mate, Freddie says firmly, is a lorry driver. This cats my partner.
Lucky you have a partner, the officer smiles. You gave him a proper fight.
Freddie nods seriously. The story of the lorry driver and his brave cat spreads online; people recognise them, wave, thank them. Freddie feels something thawing inside, as if the ice on his heart has begun to melt.
Three weeks later, when the plaster comes off, Freddie drives into the little town where he once left Ethel and Poppy. He pushes open the clinic door and sees Ethel standing there.
Oh, its you, she says, eyes wide. I had a dream youd come today!
Seems dreams have a way of working out, Freddie replies. Are you and Poppy alright?
Yes, Ethel says, shaking her head. My aunt loves us, and Ive started divorce proceedings. My husband hes gone.
Freddies heart pounds. Would you be with me? he blurts.
Ethels eyes widen, she opens her mouth, then closes it. Tom, perched on the counter, lets out a demanding meow.
My daughter Ethel whispers.
My cat! Freddie answers, Im not great with fancy words, but I know this meeting isnt by chance. Ill look after you both.
Meow! Tom confirms.
Ill think about it, Ethel says cautiously.
A month later they marry. Freddie switches jobs, becoming a driver for a mobile veterinary service. Tom lives with them, watching over Poppy and occasionally sighing as he recalls long, lonely highways, now curled up on a wide sofa.
Romance is romance, but without Toms watchful eye, life would feel empty. Good thing there are wise cats in the world.
