Gresley the Railway Cat

By Grace J Roberts

When Gresley arrives at Railway Cottage she's never heard of trains, or squirrels, or badgers, but she soon finds her paws... and plenty of adventures!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rachel Trench
• Release date: Jan 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201301804

Book preview

Dedication

For Archie: it's now a real book!

In memory of my father, who instilled in me a love of trains

Gresley Arrives

Curled up in his basket beside the always-warm Aga, Claude dozed comfortably. Distantly he could hear the sound of his humans getting up and he knew that in a few minutes time, Mrs Jones would be bustling into the kitchen to provide him with his breakfast. It was, he reflected, rather a good life for a cat.

A slightly portly tabby cat with a very distinguished ruff of white fur around his neck, he'd first moved into Railway cottage as a kitten. Both Mr and Mrs Jones had been rather surprised that first morning when they'd opened the back door and he'd marched in, but he'd known he'd selected good humans because it didn't take them long to catch on. By sunset of that first day he'd had a bowl given over to his use, a brand new basket positioned by the Aga and a clear place in their hearts.

Yes, it was a good life for a cat indeed.

The kitchen door opened and Mrs Jones shuffled in. Morning, Claude, she called.

Claude twitched an ear in recognition and then slowly started the process of uncurling, stretching and standing up. One of his hind legs had stiffened overnight so he shook it a couple of times before he was satisfied it was ready to carry him with appropriate dignity. It never did to limp: both humans had a quite appalling tendency to whip him off to the vets at the first sign he wasn't in top condition.

You look a little how I feel this morning, Mrs Jones commented. Bit stiff from a good night's sleep, eh?

Claude slowly prowled across the kitchen and bunted Mrs Jones' shins, then looked pointedly at his empty bowl, still sitting in its accustomed place on the floor.

Sorry, Claude, it's a coffee-first morning today. Jeff and I have an early start.

Claude uttered a small chirrup of disgust at that pronouncement. He sat down in the middle of the floor and delicately licked a front paw even as Mrs Jones set the kettle on the top of the Aga to boil. He'd tried coffee once, as a youngster, and hadn't really seen the appeal, but it was a substance both his humans seemed to enjoy so he'd allow them their vice. Just as long as