Page 9 of The Unhinged Christmas of a Cat Lady
Smutty slinks across the counter like a feline burglar, tail flicking with intention.
“Oi!” Amelia snaps, swatting at him with a tea towel. “Not tonight, Furball.”
Smutty blinks at her, absolutely unrepentant, then makes a slow, sulky exit—only to immediately double back toward the sausage rolls the moment her back’s turned.
There’s laughter. Real laughter. Tired, a bit wine-fuelled, but honest.
And for the first time in what feels like weeks, I feel like a person again—not a wife, or an ex-wife, or a woman stuck between court papers and cardboard boxes. Just me.
We’re all around the kitchen table now, plates cluttered with crumbs and half-eaten sausage rolls, wine glasses catching the warm overhead light. The food’s taken the edge off, but the ache behind my eyes still simmers.
Omar puts down his fork and says, “Right. I’ve just thought of something.”
“Dangerous,” Bri murmurs, not looking up.
“No, listen. That bloke we passed earlier on the green—with the little girl? Jasper.”
There are a few vague nods.
“He’s got this place just a few roads over,” Omar goes on. “It’s a big house but it also has a self-contained flat attached… like a proper annexe. Own entrance, kitchen, all of it.”
I squint at him, half-suspicious. “And?”
“You should move in,” he says simply. “It’s empty.”
I blink. “Wait, what?”
“He bought the place for the house itself,” Omar explains. “The flat was just part of the deal. He doesn’t use it. It’s just sitting there.”
Lizzie’s already grinning. “You could live here! SJ would love it. The space, the garden, all the kids around.”
“His school’s in London,” I remind them. “I can’t just uproot him.”
Ben, casually reaching for his phone, says, “Sim-Sim’s paying for transport. It’s in the divorce agreement.”
“Sure, but—”
“It doesn’t say from where,” Ben adds. “And let’s be honest, getting across half of London can take longer than a train from here.”
I open my mouth, ready to protest, and promptly close it again.
He’s not wrong.
Ben’s already standing. “Let’s just see if it’s an option.”
“Wait—are you calling him now?”
“Yes.”
“Ben—!”
Too late. He steps into the hallway to make the call that could change my life… yet again.
There’s a beat of silence.
Then Coop says, “Jasper doesn’t need the money. I don’t think he was planning to rent it out. But if someone were to ask, I’d bet he’d say yes. Especially if Ben puts the charm on.”
I glance around at the circle of eager, determined faces.
