Chapter 1: The Birthday Gift
"It's his birthday? Today?"
Zeldris looked at Gelda with absolute incredulity, his heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he griped as he shot out of bed, quickly rummaging in the wardrobe for something to wear. "Now I've got less than eight hours to find him a present."
Gelda looked up at him, her face calm and serene as she propped herself up with a number of pillows. "I would have thought you'd remember," she chastised, a slight smile curving the left side of her mouth. "How long have we been living together now? Time enough for you to know when Arthur's birthday is. And besides it's on the calendar…"
"Yes, yes alright!" Zeldris grumbled as he pulled on some clothes. "What's happening anyway?"
Gelda looked at him, her violet eyes gleaming and Zeldris felt the breath catch in his throat. It was the one feature they shared, their eyes so like one another's, their beauty causing him pause even after all these years. "You have no need to worry," she chuckled, "I've sorted everything out. The party will be here. Arthur knows nothing about it but everyone else does, and I booked catering. The cake is a masterpiece."
"How are you always so organised?" Zeldris muttered as he checked his reflection in the full-length mirror, running a hand through his hair to make sure the spikes were arranged in their proper place.
"It's easy really," Gelda replied, "You just have to pay attention and get stuff done. Which is what you should do now. I have suggestions for gifts if you'd like?"
Zeldris paused, his lips pressed together as he battled temptation. "No. I do this every year. I'm going to get him something myself this time."
Gelda laughed, the tinkling sound reverberating through the air. "Well, good luck. Text me if you draw a blank."
Four hours later Zeldris sincerely regretted telling his girlfriend that he did not need her help. He had scoured what felt like the whole of Oxford Street, trying and failing to find something Arthur might feasibly want as a gift. But it was all to no avail. The problem was Arthur had everything any twenty-five year old could possibly want, and if he got him alcohol again Gelda would no doubt raise her eyebrows, the expression saying 'I told you so' more clearly than any words could convey.
Still, a bottle of some random liquor was better than nothing. Turning abruptly, adroitly dodging the crowds swarming past in the opposite direction, Zeldris made his way back to the department store he had listlessly explored earlier that morning. The day was hot, the relentless August sun beating down on the shoppers who dragged their feet limply down the tarmaced street but Zeldris trudged on, wrinkling his nose in disgust as the odd smell of grease from the stalls dotting the sides of the road caused him to gag slightly. He just wanted the whole sorry experience to be over. Thank goodness Gelda's birthday was not until April next year.
He was nearing the pretentious facade of Selfridges when a conversation caught his attention, the words somehow penetrating his consciousness above the hubbub of chatter. His eyes strayed to a small girl walking alongside her mother, clutching at a lead for dear life as an enthusiastic puppy pulled her forcefully along. The animal looked delighted, oblivious to the weather, and Zeldris was surprised to feel a twinge of longing piercing his chest. It looked so much fun, and of course Arthur had always wanted a dog.
Zeldris stood stock still, causing several passersby to bump into him forcefully. And why not? True, a dog was not ideal - they shed hair like nobody's business and made their surroundings smell like mouldy old socks when wet - but the three of them were older now, and well off. They could easily afford to look after a pet, and it could always live outside in the garden. And as a gift it was at least original; Gelda could hardly complain that he had wimped out this time.
About half an hour later, Zeldris was standing in the reception of Battersea Dogs and Cats home, the only place he could think of in central London where one might find a canine at short notice. The walls were covered in pictures and leaflets showcasing the charity's many success stories, sorry-looking mongrels, skeletal and with mangy fur, transformed into sleek, happy and well-beloved pets. He was just congratulating himself on his brilliant idea when the voice of the receptionist pulled him back to reality.
"You need to book an appointment for an interview about adopting a dog," she gently explained as she tapped on her computer keyboard. "We have slots next week, but nothing available until then, I'm afraid."
Zeldris felt his heart sink slightly. "Is there nothing sooner?" he asked cautiously. "I was really hoping to get one today."
"Well that's out for a start," the woman said sharply, her eyes drilling into him as she turned away from her screen. "We are very careful here. We don't let just anyone adopt a dog. There's an initial interview, a home visit to check suitability, and then an observation when a suitable pet has been found. The whole process takes about a month."
"A month?" Zeldris asked incredulously. "But… I mean…"
"If you're after a specific dog, don't worry, there's always plenty, and sometimes the cute ones aren't all they're cracked up to be," the lady continued, her expression softening slightly. "We have dozens of Staffies and they're great companions. People look down on them, but they're wonderful. I have three myself."
"It's not that," Zeldris said quickly, feeling an unwelcome heat flooding his cheeks. "It's… well this is embarrassing. It's my boyfriend's birthday today and he's always wanted a dog. I really wanted to surprise him."
"Awww!" The noise that issued from the woman's mouth was somewhere between a sigh and a swoon. "That's so, so… romantic," she gushed, and Zeldris felt the blush he was trying to manage spiral out of control. "But it doesn't change things," she added more gently, a sad smile on her face. "There's no way you can adopt a dog as a surprise. Our team will need to talk to your boyfriend too."
Zeldris was on the point of making a hasty exit when he caught a calculating look in the receptionist's eyes. "But…" she began, her lips pursed in thought.
"Go on," he encouraged, with some effort forcing his face to return to its normal countenance. "You have something in mind?"
"As it happens, yes," the woman continued, the words accompanied by a vigorous nod. "You see, the team raided a kitten farm a few days ago. The poor things were being kept in such awful conditions and… well the upshot is we have far more cats than we know how to deal with. And a slot for an interview just opened up. If we have a cat that's a match for your family then you can take it home with you today."
"A cat?" Zeldris mulled over the idea and the more he thought about it the more pleased he became. They were by far superior animals in every way. They cleaned themselves, did not require walks, and had the added benefit that they would keep any pests at bay. Zeldris pictured himself sitting on the sofa, a dainty feline jumping up to him and laying its head in his lap. And Arthur did like cats. Maybe not as much as dogs but he did like them. Only last month he had been encouraging a stray to visit the garden, that is until the sorry-looking animal had given him fleas.
"Thank you, why not," he finally said, returning the receptionist's eager smile as the lady started tapping away at her computer once more.
No long after, Zeldris found himself being led up the stairs towards a room that smelled strongly of biscuits and bleach. The walls were lined on all sides with cages, perspex doors with holes in giving a glimpse into the almost identical habitats within. Each cat had bowls of food and water, a litter tray and a box to hide in, as well as a few toys scattered about on the white laminate surfaces. The occupants however could not have been more varied: the cats came in every colour imaginable; some ran up towards their doors, rubbing their heads against the plastic in greeting while others shied away, turning their backs.
The interview had been an informal affair consisting of a few questions about the household amenities and some quiz-like queries about the cost of vet care and insurance. Zeldris was glad he had read the blurb on the organisation's website as he'd waited for his meeting with one of the Home's volunteers to begin; the answers he'd needed were still fresh in his mind.
"Now let's see…" the volunteer murmured as he leafed through the notes of interview, the papers rustling slightly in his fingers. "Three adults, all of you working long hours, and no children. I think we have just the cat for you.
"I have to warn you he's lazy, which is good because he will basically do nothing to the house while you're at work. But don't expect him to be a good mouser," the young man added as he led Zeldris to a cage in the corner of the room. Inside sat one of the fattest creatures Zeldris had ever seen; the white and ginger cat was at least as wide as it was long, if not wider, and sat at its empty food bowl with a mournful expression. It looked like a circle more than anything, or perhaps a stuffed cushion, though the colouring reminded him strongly of Arthur.
"His name is Cath, don't ask me why," the volunteer said as he gave the cat an affectionate look. "And as you can see he likes his food. We've put him on a diet since he's arrived and he's not been too happy about it. But I think some proper fuss will help him settle."
Zeldris, regarding Cath with something approaching disgust, was on the point of asking if any other unwanted felines were possibly available when the volunteer opened the cage. Before Zeldris knew what was happening the cat had launched itself into his arms and started purring loudly, the vibrations reverberating through him as Cath fell asleep.
"He's… not done that with anyone before," the volunteer said incredulously. "He must really like you!"
"Probably just hungry," Zeldris muttered under his breath but deep down he was secretly pleased. It was nice to be holding the cat, who was even heavier than he looked, in the knowledge that the feline was at least a bit choosy.
The young man retrieved a wad of papers stuck in a plastic folder next to the cage, his eyes flicking from side to side as they traced the words on the pages. "Cath has a clean bill of health, and he's been fully vaccinated. He's ready to go," he said cheerfully as he gave Zeldris a wide smile. "He's a well adjusted cat too. Nothing untoward in his past; his previous owners just couldn't afford to feed him I think."
Prising Cath out of his arms proved more difficult than expected but eventually, between them, two volunteers managed to wrestle the animal into a travel box. So it was that, loaded down with food, a litter tray and, of course, the enormous cat in a cage, Zeldris set off in a taxi heading for home. He imagined how pleased Arthur and Gelda would be even as the weight of the cat pressed into his lap.
It was only as he approached the terraced house the three of them shared that he noticed his phone, the lock screen flashing to show he had several missed calls and a veritable flurry of unread messages, most of them containing the words 'where are you' in capital letters. It was much later than he had thought, and the party would likely be starting soon, that is if it was not already underway.
In a rush, Zeldris paid the taxi driver and made his way as quickly as possible to the door of the house, hampered in his efforts by the amount of cargo he carried. He was met on the threshold by a furious Gelda. "Where have you been?" she hissed, her eyes smouldering into his own before she caught sight of the amount of stuff he was carrying, "And what is all this?"
"I got him a cat," Zeldris said lamely, his voice sounding unsure even in his own ears. Gelda stared him with undisguised astonishment, before her face morphed into an enormous grin. In a second she was kneeling before the travel cage, cooing like an imbecile at the still-purring feline.
"That's an amazing idea! You are completely forgiven," Gelda said in rapture as she opened the cage, the huge cat launching into her arms in an instant. "Let's go give it to him now. We've already done the reveal. He was surprised," she added with a little reproach in her voice as she settled the cat more securely in her arms. "Where did you get it from?"
Zeldris felt slightly aggrieved as Gelda led the way towards the dining room, the cat still purring contentedly in her arms as she sashayed down the hall. "I got him from Battersea," he grumbled as he followed behind, having deposited the various bags at the door. "And for your information it was a bit of a mission. I think I should be the one to give him to Arthur…"
"Surprise!" Gelda shouted as she flung open the door, revealing a large group of people all holding glasses. The mahogany dining table was groaning with food, an absolutely enormous cake standing proudly in the centre. It was shaped like a castle, iced walls and turrets rising up proud to form three tiers of confection topped with red and green flags. "It's Castle Camelot," Gelda whispered into his ear as Zeldris stared at it in amazement. "You know, because he's Arthur Pendragon. Cost me a small fortune to commission but I think it's worth it."
The guests were just beginning to make suitable noises in response to the cat's appearance when, without warning, it launched itself from Gelda's arms. Zeldris watched in horror as Cath leapt onto the table and, without hesitation, nose-dived straight into the castle cake, knocking it into pieces in an instant.
The whole thing seemed to happen in slow motion. The tall turrets fell to the table, crumbling on impact, covering the pristine white tablecloth in icing and jam. The guests looked on with horror-stricken faces, mouths open in shock and eyes wide as saucers. The previously cheerful room was now silent as the grave save for the mewls of the cat, who was devouring the cake as if he had not eaten in weeks, small globules scattering from his whiskers into the mass of golden crumbs. Zeldris felt Gelda stiffen noticeably at his side, the soft sound of her breathing betraying her perturbation; it took a lot to upset her but once she was she cried easily. He dared not turn to look into her face, sure that she would be on the point of tears.
Amidst all the commotion, his eyes caught Arthur's and he felt terrible on seeing his boyfriend's face was a picture of desolation. Then, suddenly, Arthur began to laugh. First, his lip twisted, a faint chuckle bubbling up before the sound built and grew into an almighty guffaw. Arthur threw his head back, tears of mirth beading the corners of his eyes as he stared at the mess which had once been the most elaborate cake ever to be constructed. Arthur was of course quick to smile, but it had been a while since he had looked quite this happy.
With some relief, Zeldris felt the change in atmosphere trickle through the room as their friends caught the mood, smiles and laughter returning as they passed bottles of wine and spirits round to replenish their drinks. Glasses clinked and jokes passed as the guests quickly retrieved their phones to capture the sight of the ruined cake. It would no doubt be the star of social media before the hour was out, along with the feline who had caused the destruction.
With some trepidation, Zeldris slipped an arm around Gelda, unsurprised to feel her tremble in his grasp. He was relieved to find that she leant into his touch. "I'm so sorry," he whispered to her as he held her close, both arms encircling her waist as Gelda pressed her face into his shoulder. "They did say he was on a diet but I never thought…"
"That. Was. Hilarious!" Arthur said heartily, moving round the table to join them. He had managed to scoop up the cream-covered cat before it moved on to the rest of the food, depositing dairy smears and crumbs all over his jacket in the process. With a slightly apologetic look, Arthur kissed Gelda tenderly, stroking her hair with his free hand and Zeldris felt her relax against him. It was nice, comforting, the effect only slightly marred as Arthur added with unbridled enthusiasm, "I love him! What's his name?"
"Cath," Zeldris confirmed as the now-stuffed animal rubbed its face into Arthur's chest, continuing to purr as if it was some sort of drilling machine. "His name is Cath. And starting now he is not allowed in the dining room."