The Cat Who Took the Train

Rosa was from Seville, but for the last two years she had lived in York, in the north of England, where she worked as a nurse. Every morning she took the 7:42 train to a small hospital in the countryside. The journey took twenty minutes, and she usually spent it reading or looking out of the window at the green fields and the sheep.

One Monday in November, she noticed a large ginger cat sitting on the platform. When the train doors opened, the cat walked in calmly, as if it had a ticket, and sat under a seat. Nobody seemed surprised. At the third stop, a tiny village called Little Ashby, the cat got off and walked away along the platform.

The next day the same thing happened, and the day after that. Rosa asked the conductor about it. "Oh, that's Marmalade," he said with a smile. "He's been taking this train for years. He is said to belong to the old station master at Little Ashby, but nobody really knows. He is known by everyone on this line."

Rosa could not stop thinking about the cat. Where did he go every day? Why did he come back to York every evening? On Friday, which was her day off, she decided to find out. She took the 7:42 as usual, but this time she got off at Little Ashby with Marmalade.

The station was very small. It was built more than a hundred years ago, and it is only used by a few trains a day. The cat walked past the empty ticket office and through a little gate into a garden full of flowers. In the garden there was a cottage, and in front of the cottage an old man was sitting on a bench with a cup of tea.

"Good morning," said the man. "You must be another of Marmalade's fans." His name was Walter, and he had been the station master at Little Ashby for thirty-five years. The ticket office was closed in 2005, he explained, and the job disappeared, but he was allowed to stay in the cottage. Now he was eighty-one and lived alone.

"Is he your cat?" Rosa asked. Walter laughed. "Nobody owns Marmalade. He was found as a kitten on a train, so I suppose he thinks the railway is his home. He sleeps in a cafe at York station, where he is fed by the staff. But every morning he comes to visit me. He has never missed a day." The cat jumped onto the bench and lay down next to the old man.

Rosa stayed for an hour, drinking tea and listening to Walter's stories about the railway. When she left, he asked her if she would come again. Now, every Friday, Rosa takes the 7:42 with Marmalade, and the three of them have breakfast together in the garden at Little Ashby.