By Thursday, Hathaway and Fiona had established a few little routines. He had learned the toilet paper would be spared as long as he left paper wads and corks out for her to play with during the day. He enjoyed the way she greeted him with her chirp when he came home from work and sat on his lap in the evenings. At night, her soft warmth was comforting, like sleeping with a furry hot water bottle.
But Hathaway was running late that morning, having spent ten minutes on his knees digging at least four paper wads out from under the sofa. Still, he managed to arrive at work before Lewis. He hastily logged on and started conducting online research on what were the best cat toys. When he heard Lewis greet another officer out in the corridor, he quickly closed that screen and opened the report he had been working on the day before.
Shortly before lunch, Hathaway noticed Lewis muttering under his breath as he worked at his computer.
"Anything wrong, Sir?"
"This stupid computer has gone and lost all me files from last month! I can't find any of them. It's this new system, isn't it?"
Hathaway got up and came around the desk to see if he could help. "May I?"
"Sure. If I can't find them, I'm just going to make you redo them, anyway." Lewis got up and moved out of the way, sitting on the corner of his desk.
Hathaway clicked various menus and tabs for some time. At last, he was triumphant. "There you go. They got renamed somehow and put in this 'Records' folder."
"Oh, thanks, Sergeant." Then, with a raised eyebrow, "So, how was she last night?"
"What? How was who?" Hathaway was thoroughly puzzled.
"Well, I'm thinking you must have spent the night at someone else's house. That looks like animal hair all over your trousers. Not like you to go out looking like a pet owner. Whoever she was, she must have offered some serious distraction."
Hathaway realized he'd forgotten to apply the lint brush that morning after rooting around under the sofa.
"Well?"
Hathaway exhaled deeply. Time to confess. "I wasn't at anyone else's house. I have to admit I have someone living with me temporarily and, yes, she does offer some serious distraction."
Lewis's mouth fell open. "Living with you? I didn't know you'd met anyone you were that serious about."
"Oh, well, I suppose you don't know everything about my personal life, do you?" Hathaway flicked on his mobile and thumbed to the picture he'd taken of Fiona. "Inspector Lewis, meet Fiona."
Lewis stared at the picture, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "Hathaway, man, that's perfect! It's just what you need. How long have you had her?" He peered at the photograph. "Are those . . . are her eyes two different colors?"
James related the story of how he had found the cat in dire need and rescued her. And he found himself describing her habits, the way she chirped, played, washed herself, sat on his lap in the evenings, and slept by him at night.
Lewis's grin got even bigger. "You're in love, aren't you?"
Hathaway had to laugh. "I guess so. She's a real nuisance at times, but it's been a lot of fun. Why don't you come over this weekend and meet her?"
Lewis noticed when James got back to work at his desk, the hand sanitizer went untouched. Yes, this was exactly what James needed.
* * *