Kit E Cat

Ruth and Kevin both preferred comfort to glamour, showers to baths, pizza to curry, and cats to dogs. Neither wanted children; both had been refused pets by their parents. So it was inevitable that six months after they moved in together, they should take a trip to the Animal Rescue Foundation. There they fell for a pair of black kittens, slim and graceful with huge round eyes ('bushbaby ancestry?' Ruth said) and oversized ears ('fennec fox, I think,' Kevin said).

They brought the kittens home, named them Snowy and Paleface, called each other as witnesses to amazing kitten acts like sitting and walking, and took dozens of photos. Little beds were made with old jumpers and towels in cut-down cardboard boxes, and placed in draught-free corners, but the kittens ignored them. After a thorough exploration of the flat, they climbed up onto Ruth and Kevin's bed, curled up together in the very centre of the duvet and went to sleep. Ruth and Kevin said 'aaahhh' a few times, took some more photos, and went off to the living room.

After the kittens woke up, they spent the rest of the day exploring the flat, and by the time Ruth headed for bed, they were back in the centre of the duvet. She slid in gently so as not to disturb them and turned off the light. Football commentators muttered from the living room. Her head was full of kittens, they were so small, would she roll on them in the night? Should she try putting them in one of the box beds? But she didn't think they would stay there if she did. Anyway, they probably needed their sleep. And so did she.

Maybe she'd try the age-old sedative. Her hand moved down her body, under the duvet. As her fingertips reached the base of her belly she arched her back in anticipation. What was that? Something had landed on her hand - and then something else landed on her toes. She reached for the light switch and turned it on to see Snowy, or was it Paleface, trying to kill her pubic bone through the duvet, and Paleface, or it might have been Snowy, enthusiastically gnawing the duvet over her big toe. Their little ears were pointed high, their wee tails switching, fierce concentration visible to the end of their fur. Then they caught sight of each other and began a squeaky wrestling match that ended with both of them tumbling off the bed and racing to the kitchen for a snack.

Ruth sighed, turned off the light and put herself to sleep.

When she woke in the morning, the first thing she could hear was Kevin's breathing. She opened one eye. He was on his side, his back to her. She lifted her head and saw the kittens asleep on the duvet inbetween them. He stirred and she put her hand on his shoulder.

'Careful, the kitties are on the bed.'

He grunted a response and turned slowly, peering over the duvet to see. 'Awww, aren't they lovely?'

His face was soft with sleep and happiness. Ruth wanted to kiss him good morning. She leaned towards him until their lips touched.

'It's Sunday morning,' he said, and cupped her left breast in his hand, gently squeezing her nipple.

'I know. Mmmm, that’s nice. But…' She looked at the kittens again, curled in a circle with their sleek backs outside, eight black paws jumbled together so that it was difficult to tell which were whose. 'Should we wake them?'

'Let's just – ' He reached for her hand, pulled it towards him. 'I've got morning thickness. I need you to make me feel better.'

She touched, held, caressed. He hummed with pleasure. And a kitten pounced. 'Aarrgghh!' Followed by the other one. 'Oooww! Right on my bladder,' he said, 'which I was trying to ignore.' He threw back the duvet, scooped up the kittens, deposited them in the hall, closed the door, got back into bed and wrapped himself around Ruth. She snuggled into him, enjoying all the hardnesses of his body, his spicy smell, his kisses on her neck, his hand smoothing down her back.

There was mewling and frantic scrabbling from outside. Kevin loosened his hold on Ruth.

'They're putting me off my stroke,' he said.

She grinned. 'It's a catastrophe.'

'Shall we, er, paws for a while?' He kissed her. 'Or should we try to ignore it?' But one of his hardnesses was softening.

'I don't think I can,' she said. 'Do you?'

'No. And I need a pee, anyway.' He got out of bed again and opened the door. Snowy and Paleface ran in and chased each other around the room at high speed, taking in the bed as part of their circuit, Ruth's presence under the duvet irrelevant.

When Kevin came back from the bathroom, he sat beside Ruth and they watched Snowy washing Paleface's ears with a raspy pink tongue. 'Would you like breakfast in bed?'

'I don't think so. Not with these two. I'll get up.'

He traced her jawline with a finger. 'Maybe later, if they go back to sleep, we could do that thing, you know, that we did on the sofa that time.'

She smiled at him, remembering. 'You liked that thing on the sofa, didn't you.'

'I think you rather liked it yourself.' He leaned down and kissed her forehead. 'And with luck we won't have any more cattus interruptus.'