Page 13 of The Unhinged Christmas of a Cat Lady
The walk home isn’t long—ten minutes at most, along the edge of the lane, past the stone wall I still haven’t got around to repairing, then up the gravel drive.
I miss them, sometimes. The noise of it all. Theo talking too much, Geoff being smug in three languages, Lucy leaving her socks in places physics can’t explain. But I don’t miss London.
Moving out here was the best decision I’ve ever made. No neighbours on the other side of a paper-thin wall. No impossible parking. No fighting ten people for a seat on the tube. Just space. Time. A house so big it still feels a bit like trespassing.
The porch light flicks on as I step up to the door. It’s on a motion-sensor, but it still startles me every time.
I’m pulling off one glove when my phone buzzes in my pocket.
I answer on the second ring. “Hey Ben”
“Jasper, mate. You free for a favour?”
I pause, pushing the door open with my shoulder, the warmth of the house spilling over me like a wave.
“That depends,” I say, toeing off my boots. “Is it the kind of favour that involves bailing someone out?”
Ben laughs. “No, no. Nothing that dramatic. Just… the annexe.”
I pause in the hallway, halfway out of my coat.
“Right,” I say slowly. “What about it?”
Ben exhales down the line, like he’s been half-running or trying not to talk too loudly near someone.
“So, Amelia’s friend Miranda… she’s just come out of a divorce. Proper shitshow. Husband’s a complete arsehole. She’s got an eight-year-old son and needs somewhere to stay. Somewhere steady. Quiet. Safe.”
I lean against the hallway wall, still holding my gloves.
Ben goes on, “We were all at the bonfire earlier, and it just sort of... came up. Omar mentioned the flat. Amelia would feel better knowing Miranda is close by so we thought we’d ask.”
I say nothing, so Ben adds, “Look, I know you were not planning to rent it out. And of course you can say no. But… she’s good people. Bit shell-shocked. And she doesn’t want charity, just a chance to land on her feet.”
I stare down the hallway into the dark. The annexe’s technically attached, practically its own little world.
After a beat, I ask, “Her child is quiet?”
Ben huffs a laugh. “Yes, and it is shared custody, so he won’t be there all the time.”
I rub a hand over the back of my neck. “How soon are we talking?”
“Soonish.”
I sigh. “Tell her to come have a look.”
Ben’s smile is audible. “Knew you’d say yes.”
“I didn’t say yes.”
“You didn’t say no.”
I sigh. “Tell her to come by. Look at the place. No promises.”
“I’ll let her know.”
“Fine.”
“Thanks, mate. Seriously. You’re doing something good.”
