Old Lives - Chapter 1

 I blinked and coughed. I choked and spluttered. Finally, with one racking wheeze, I heaved up a fur-ball. I shuddered and tried to focus on my surroundings. Directly in front of me was the lip of a bed. Its white plastic reminded me of the protective caging that had rimmed Julie's bed when she was little. There was something hanging from it but I wasn't sure what. When I let my eyes drift upwards I saw another bed similar to mine, with sheets drawn tightly round a still – but breathing – lump.

“Miles?”

I had never heard her so frightened. I whipped my head round to face her and the smile that spread across her face made me tingle all the way from the whiskers on my nose to the claws on my toes. I tried to meow, but my throat cracked.

“Could I have some water?” I croaked.

Her smile dropped. Her eyes widened. Then a scream ripped out of her throat like a baby T-Rex bursting out of its egg.

“What? What?” I said. I could feel my own eyes widen. “What's wrong?”

Julie hadn't been scared of me since Paddy had brought me home from the pet shop – and that was four years ago. I only seemed to be fuelling her terror and she pounded across the linoleum floor to a high work counter neither of us would have had any hope of seeing over.

“Where's my daddy?” she howled.

A moment later, before the woman at the worktop had even looked round, Paddy emerged through a glass-panelled door, holding a tube of Smarties. He looked at me, then saw the tears running down his daughter's face. His jaw dropped, then he frowned. He walked over to Julie and left me wondering where I'd learnt the world linoleum.

Then it hit me. It hit me like Paddy's newspaper when I brought a dead pigeon into the house for my dinner.

Where had I learnt words?

I was talking, I realised. I was thinking. I was speaking the language of my owners. Well, I didn't know that for certain. Maybe I was barking my confusion in the harsh consonants of German, and that was what was scaring Julie. How did I know what German sounded like?

“Paddy?” I called.

He swivelled round and raised an eyebrow, but then lowered it. He held Julie's hand tight and they both crossed the room towards me, casting a quick glance at the lump in the other bed.

“Hiya, buddy,” said Paddy, a smile spreading across his face. His eyes didn't look particularly happy though.

I raised a paw to wave, hoping staying quiet would help Julie to calm down. She still avoided my gaze and hid behind Paddy.

“Julie tells me you've been asking for a drink?” Paddy asked.

I nodded eagerly. So I had been talking English. What was English? Paddy glanced over at the woman behind the worktop and nodded.

“What is this place?” I asked, after a brief pause.

Paddy took a seat on a plastic chair beside my bed.

“It's called a hospital,” he explained, “It's sort of like the vet's but for humans.”

I was impressed. He'd barely even flinched when I'd spoken. Julie had perched on the edge of the bed and was nibbling at the Smarties, but was still staring at the ground.

“But if it's for humans, why am I here?” I asked. Then a horrible thought occurred to me. “I am still a cat, right?”

Paddy chuckled and stroked me behind the ear. The woman – slim and dark-haired – returned with a bowl of water for me. She reached behind my head and swung a table out over my body. It was suspended by a metal bar attached at one end and running the length of its underside. She placed the bowl on the table, smiled at me, then strode away to tend to someone else.

“Yes, you're still a cat,” Paddy replied, then paused to let me drink some water.

Oh, it was heavenly. It was crisp, cool, clear and ran down my throat as if it was dripping off my spine. After a few seconds though, my tummy felt a bit off. My face must have let my discomfort slip, because Paddy moved the bowl away from me.

“That's enough for just now, Miles,” he said, “Your body's not ready for it yet.”

I tilted my head to the side. “How long have I been out for?”

He glanced at his shoes. The silence made Julie look round and, still frowning, she replied, “Three days.”

My stomach did a somersault and I could imagine all the water sloshing around inside me. Three days?

“Okay.” I spluttered. “Never mind where I am, what all these tubes stuck in me are, or even who or what is in that bed over there … What on Earth has happened?”

Paddy ran his hand through his shock of ginger hair. I had never noticed how bright it was before. It stood vibrantly out against the dull background of the hospital walls, the brown chairs and the cream floor.

“I don't know where to begin,” he said, dragging his hands down his face. “It's all my fault. You better get comfortable, Miles. This is going to take a while.”

I nodded, and leaned forward to lap up a mouthful of water.

He cleared his throat. “It started about four months ago – that is, the monkeys started four months ago. They started talking. They stood up and walked about and used door handles and talked on telephones and did everything I do on a daily basis. That was staggering enough. I couldn't believe it when they told me at work. They were our evolutionary cousins of so many million years of separate development, and all of a sudden I was standing in line for the bathroom in front of a capuchin.”

Paddy's arms were waving wildly around in front of him as he spoke. Julie had looked round and the open surprise on her face showed she was hearing this for the first time too.

“It was just monkeys, Dad?” she asked.

He nodded. “At first. But it seems other animals have started talking too, all sorts of pets.”

I raised my eyebrows and gasped. “Shadow! Is he okay?”

Julie frowned and pointed at the lump in the bed across from me.

“That's Shadow?” I exclaimed, “He looks enormous!”

“That's just the pillow they had to prop him up on. He's so small he was getting drowned in the sheets,” Paddy explained. “We've been watching him half the time, you half the time.”

I looked up at the lump again and had to restrain myself from bounding across the gap between us to reach the gecko. He was my best friend. What if he was too small to survive what was happening to us?

“Okay,” I said, “Maybe one of you should keep watching him.”

Julie shrugged and walked over to the other bed, sitting down on the edge of it.

“But why, Paddy?” I asked, searching his strained, tired eyes.

“I wish I could tell you, Miles,” he said, spreading his hands wide, “I'm sure someone will figure it out sooner or later.”

I lay my head against the pillow. Why monkeys? I just wanted to go back to sleep. I wanted to chase the mouse that'd been living in our kitchen for the past few weeks. I wanted to play tug-of-war with Julie and I wanted her not to run away from me whenever I opened my mouth. I took a breath and let it vibrate out through my entire body in a quiet purr. At least I could still purr.

“You can go back to sleep if you want, Miles,” said Paddy. His voice was soft, like he was already trying not to wake me. “I'm sure you'll wake up sooner this time.”

I nodded and tried to smile, but was drifting into unconsciousness before I got the chance to find out if I was successful.

Shadow woke up while I was asleep, Paddy informed me later. In fact, it turned out that the only reason I woke up in the hospital room for the second time was because they couldn't discharge me while I was asleep. I thought they would have wanted to keep a talking cat and gecko for a few more tests but it seemed they needed the beds. I wondered what the queue looked like outside and was glad Paddy had got Shadow and myself here so fast.

In the back of the car on the way home I was considering trying to curl up around Julie's feet, but when she spotted me eyeing her pink sandals she drew her legs up under her and looked out the window. Shadow, who was sitting on my head, slithered down my nose and sprang onto the middle seat. He edged towards Julie but as soon as he lay one webbed foot on her she flinched. He turned to face me and shrugged. I nodded and offered him a paw to run up.

Paddy didn't say anything, just let the rumble of the car fill the silence. I purred and was glad when we pulled up outside the house a few minutes later. Julie got out the car and walked over to the door of the house, then stood facing the door as if it was the only thing in the world that existed. The lilacs and blues of flowerpots at either side of the porch steps caught my eye and I pictured Julie's rosy cheeks draping a daisy chain around my neck. I ached as I realised she would never do that to me now.

That night I twisted and turned in my basket. I stared up at the low ceiling and gazed numbly out through the glass patio doors. Compared to the open floor plan of the house that put these wide panels in full view, the wicker surrounding me felt like the walls of a prison, caging me in and curling me up into a tight ball. I wondered how I had never noticed this before. In all my life before today at the hospital I had never slept in my own bed, with a mattress and pillows. I had shared Julie's, sure, when she was ill, and kicking the covers off because she had a fever. I doubted she'd let me share tonight.

I glanced across the living room to Shadow's tank. He'd decided to stay in it overnight, until something else could be arranged. I wasn't sure if anyone considered my 'bed' as something that would need to be altered. From the sliver of moonlight that filtered through the blinds of the smaller window beside his tank, I could see the table that the tank always sat on, but the tank itself was obscured by the shadow of the window frame.

“Shadow?” I whispered.

No reply. How was he sleeping in that thing? I shook my head and stretched my legs. In moments I was on my feet and crossing the smooth wooden floor the living room door. Julie might want nothing to do with me, but there was one man who would lend me half his bed for the night. I was sure of it. I dragged myself up the stairs, my eyes drifting closed every few steps. When I finally reached the top, I wasn't even sure if I would make it to Paddy's room. I crawled along the thick, fluffy carpet and nudged Paddy's door open.

“Hiya, buddy,” he whispered from within.

He must have heard me coming, I guessed. He opened the door and bent down to look in my eyes. His were strained too. I hadn't seen him this tired since he first brought me home from the pet shop. I remember those eyes on long nights were he'd let me rest on his shoulder while he sniffled himself to sleep. It was understandable. I'd be inconsolable if my mate died too, not that I've ever had one.

I followed him over the laminate floor to his bed and scrambled under the covers. I didn't curl up in the crook of his shoulder. Maybe if my voice had been a little higher-pitched, if I'd sounded a little less like a middle-aged man. Maybe then I wouldn't even be here tonight. Because we both knew why I was here, lying in bed next to my owner – because this would be the last night we spent under the same roof.