PS here's an Epilogue – or perhaps tailpiece is a better name for this last chapter. . .
By midnight, everyone in the house was in bed and asleep. Lily Hobson was out for the count, exhausted from the day, her dad not too far behind. Robbie and Laura were in bed, both sound asleep.
Samson the cat had napped a while in the laundry room in his cat basket, Robbie having left the little door open so he could get in and out as he pleased. He went to the saucer of food left for him and sniffed. He wasn't particularly hungry, he'd had a nice plate of chicken earlier in the day but after having a small rest he needed to stretch his legs. He delicately hooked his paw around the laundry room door and expertly opened it without a sound. Then he padded into the house.
In the sitting room, the stove was still warm even though the logs had nearly burnt out. Samson sat for a while, his paws neatly arranged together and his tail curled round over his toes. He closed his eyes for a while and enjoyed the comfort of the last bit of heat.
After a while, he decided to investigate the kitchen. He was too old to jump up onto the table which he would have like to have done so he settled for a sniff around the floor. He hoped he might find a treat, maybe a bit of sausage or some such. Mr. Potter dropped things all the time which Samson was able to treat himself to before Mrs. Mitchell the cleaner came. But the floor here was disappointingly spotless. Samson exited the kitchen with his tail aloft, despite this disappointment, and made his way back into the dining area. Under a chair he saw the toy the little girl and the woman had made for him. He tapped it with his paw and it rolled slightly, the string following the cork with a slight delay. It pleased Samson greatly and he tapped it again, harder, making it roll again. Samson pounced on the little toy and sunk his teeth into it before he rolled over, clutching the cork with all four paws while it was in his mouth. He held it for a while and then gently let go before stretching his limbs out. He mewed slightly, his body ached; he was an old cat but today he had enjoyed the fun that he remembered as a kitten, many years ago.
He lay for a while, purring quietly to himself. Then he got up and went to the Christmas tree and sniffed a bauble. Had he been a little younger he would have taken a swipe at the decoration but playing with the toy the girl had made had satisfied him so he simply sniffed the shiny ball again before turning tail on the tree.
He wandered casually back into the hallway and slowly made his way up the stairs. He knew that's where everyone had gone. He wasn't used to stairs, there were none in Mr. Potter's flat so he made his way with care, taking his time to get to the top.
At the top of the stairs, Samson decided to rest for a while, settling down and tucking his front paws neatly under his body to warm them. He dozed for a while, his eyes half-closed and with a slight purr. He had enjoyed his day although it had been eventful and he had felt a bit panicked until Robbie had taken him and told him it was ok. He liked Robbie's voice and it soothed him until they got to the house even though there was someone else in the car. Then Samson had another panic when he got to the house. There were lots of smells and people but he held his nerve and when it got too much for him he had retreated back to his wicker cat basket for some respite.
Samson snoozed a while longer but then he felt his limbs stiffen. It was draughty on the floor. He needed somewhere comfy and warm to sleep.
He stood up and stretched as much as his old creaky muscles would allow and padded up the hallway. There was an open door and Samson peeked around it. He saw the loud man and the little girl asleep. Was here a good place to sleep? he thought. The man turned in his sleep. Samson didn't like the thought of having such a big body near him as he slept. The little girl had been lots of fun and had made him feel like a kitten again but Samson didn't like the thought of a rude awakening when the little girl discovered him in the morning. Samson backed out of the doorway and padded up the hallway to the next room. Through the door he could see Robbie asleep in the bed and the blonde woman. This was a better bet. Samson, with his tail high and on muffled paws went up to the bed. He steeled himself and gathered all his energy and, with success, he jumped up onto the bed.
He managed to land softly on the duvet and the inhabitants of the bed slept on unawares. Samson trod a path up the bed towards Robbie who was snoring softly and sleeping on his side. Samson watched Robbie for a while and sniffed his ear. He wondered if Robbie might wake up. Samson looked for a suitable place to settle down for a nap. He liked very much to sleep on top of a slumbering body and he wondered about climbing up onto Robbie but Robbie kept moving slightly. Samson abandoned the idea. He turned to the woman. Maybe this was a better option. She was sleeping soundly and quietly and Samson felt the warmth from her body through the duvet. The woman had scared Samson a little earlier when he'd first seen her through the bars of his basket, but later in the day she came to the room where he'd taken refuge in his basket. The woman had stroked his head very softly and then gave him a small saucer of the most delicious chicken Samson had ever eaten before pouring some fresh cool water into his water bowl for him. Samson liked the woman. He would sleep by her he thought and he trod delicately over the duvet towards her. He saw a good spot to settle down in. There was a space between the woman and Robbie which was just the right size for him. Samson curled up in it, and, finding himself warmed by both bodies, he settled down. He purred deeply with contentment for a long while before sleep eventually made his purrs slowly subside. And then there was just the silence of the room and the sound of three sleeping souls in the Christmas night.