Visitor

THE VISITOR

Sitting in the house, Claire rose a glass to herself, toasting her own
birthday. Another year had passed, but the last few months had been
different. A visitor came almost every night, keeping her company until
she wanted to go to bed, always leaving when she wanted him to. She
loved him so much, always there when she wanted someone to talk to, and
he was a good listener.

Claire was twenty three and often spent the long, wintry nights with
the visitor, no one else wanted to know her. She learnt not to trust
men at an early age, especially where sex was concerned, being told
that was what they ever wanted. Claire had moved into her own place
around two years ago. She was enjoying the peace and quiet and the
freedom to come and go as she pleased.

Hearing the visitor tap on the door, she opened it to let him in, and
looked at him as he remained motionless, 'Aren't you coming in?'

The visitor looked at her, and walked into the house without saying a
word.

Going to the cupboard, she reached out some food for herself. Getting a
tin of meatballs, she boiled the kettle to have smash with them. Living
by herself meant she always wanted to make easy meals. She knew it was
the wrong way to look after herself. When she had visitors, she often
made them the same meal as she had, not wanting to inconvenience
herself too much from routine.

Her visitor went to sit on the chair by the fire.

Claire was pleased she did not have to go out on this birthday, the
wind blowed a gale outside, and when she opened the door to let in her
visitor, she felt a huge chill rush through the house. She preferred to
remain inside on cold nights like this, and when the visitor came, it
was the perfect excuse to stay in.

'I'll be with you now,' she shouted to him from the kitchen. 'Just
making us a bite to eat.' The kettle clicked off and the meatballs were
boiling.

Turning off the meatballs, she poured some water into the smash, making
them nice and creamy. That was the way she liked them, adding some
margarine before putting them on the plate to make them extra
special.

As she gave the meatballs one final stir, the visitor must have got
bored of waiting by himself, and came into the kitchen to be near her.
He did not like to be by himself for too long.

Claire often thought he must have been as lonely as she was, that was
why he visited her nearly every night.

As he rubbed himself against her, she splashed herself a few times with
water from the kettle.

'Get off,' she chuckled, trying to push him away. 'I am making us
something to eat. Don't you want anything?'

The visitor looked at her, saying nothing, and walked back into the
living room to wait patiently for her.

Putting the tea on the plates, she put some for herself and some for
the visitor. She didn't want him left out in the cold. It was nice for
him to come and see her and the least she could do was make him
something to eat.

With the food on both the plates, she got out the knives and forks,
taking them into the living room and put them on the table before going
back to the kitchen to take in the meals. 'Aren't you going to sit by
the table?' she asked, as he lazily moved from the chair, still saying
nothing.

Sitting on a chair by the table, he waited while Claire went to get the
food.

Carrying them both in together, she placed the fuller plate where she
was going to sit, and the other by her visitor.

As she settled down to eat hers, the visitor began to eat his,
continuously looking at her.

'Am pleased you came tonight,' she said. 'It is my birthday and no one
else wants to spend the evening with me. It is supposed to be a time to
share, but tonight I am sharing it with you. You always come to visit
me. You are my true friend,' she said, reaching out her hand.

The visitor pulled back from her.

'Don't be like that,' she sniffled. Was he rejecting her now, tonight
of all nights? 'I don't have to have you in here,' she snapped at
him.

The visitor looked at her pitifully with wide eyes, and reached out to
touch her.

'That's nice,' she whispered, as she closed her eyes and let him rub
himself all over her arm. It was such a sensuous touch. Could this be
the start of a meaningful relationship? 'I don't mean to shout at you,
just get a little angry when I see all my friends with boyfriends and
all I have is you. I get envious of them. They will be all out tonight,
and there is me, dreary Claire, stuck in the house with only you to
keep me company.'

The visitor finished his meal, left his chair, and went back to the
chair where he was sat before, watching Claire as she collected the
dishes off the table.

Washing the dishes, she heard him move around the living room and
wondered what he was getting up to, knowing he could get up to no
mischief. He knew where everything was and knew that Claire wanted him
to keep the place as he found it. He had been coming here often
enough.

'What are you doing?' she stopped washing up and went to stand by the
door, watching him.

Running to her side, he looked up at Claire as if to say he was sorry
and started to touch her once more. With her dripping hands, she
splashed the visitor a few times, causing him to run from her back into
the room.

Claire walked into the room to say sorry, but he ran past her, into the
kitchen.

Following him into the kitchen, she got a towel to wipe her hands.
'Sorry,' she apologized. 'I didn't mean to frighten you,' she tried to
get him back on her side, to trust her once more.

He looked at her through his big eyes, as she bent to lift him from the
floor. 'Mammy is sorry,' she said as she stroked his fur. 'Mammy did
not mean it,' she acted as if the cat was her child.

The cat looked up at her, and meowed before jumping from her arms and
ran back into the living room. He wanted to play now.