Feedback from some of the beta readers for my second novel, Staking a Claim, suggested my protagonist, Kate, was too unlikeable. My solution? Why, have her adopt a cat of course! Below is the resulting chapter.

Read Part 1 of this post here:

Making My Protagonist More Likeable
Yes, I know he looks friendly, but it’s no coincidence my nail polish is the colour of blood.

Image by Anja from Pixabay

It was raining. A cold front had come pouring up from the Southern Ocean, transforming the dry heat of the afternoon into a steady downpour that pounded a low and vigorous rhythm on the roof, a curtain of droplets sparkling silver in the light from the kitchen window. On the streetside corner of the house, the spouting overflowed, sending a slender waterfall crashing to the ground below.

Kate took her mug of steaming tea and collapsed onto the couch. Corbin sat on an adjacent armchair, watching a DVD. He should’ve been in bed but after the trials of her day, she didn’t have the energy for that battle. Considering it a win that she’d managed to get his pyjamas on, she was hoping he’d eventually fall asleep where he was and save her some trouble. Adjusting the cushion behind her, she leaned back and sipped her tea. The sound of the TV and the rain was comforting. She took another sip, closed her eyes and was wondering whether a short nap might be on the cards when a noise that sounded suspiciously like a doorknock interrupted her brief moment of peace.

What the… She opened a tired eye, wondering if it was her imagination. Who’d be dumb enough to be out on a night like this? It was the kind of thing Evan might do, but Evan was back at his flat in Queenstown. Besides, she had his car. Then the sound came again, more insistent this time, and there was no mistaking it. Muttering under her breath, she perched her mug on the nearest unpacked box and went to answer the door.

There was a figure on the landing but it wasn’t Evan, nor anyone else she recognised. She switched on the outside light but the weather and the corrugated glass panels of the front door obscured what little there was to make out. The only thing she could be sure of was the figure’s colour: a dark, olive green.

“Who’s there?” she asked.

“Tabitha,” said the figure, the reply almost drowned by the rain.

Tabitha? Kate racked her brain. The name was familiar for some reason but she couldn’t attach it to a face.

“From downstairs.”

Ahh, right, my mysterious neighbour. Works shifts, keeps to herself, Kate recalled. Not the night I’d choose to make an acquaintance, but whatever. She opened the door and was greeted by the sight of a short, plump woman covered from head to toe in a long, flowing, rain poncho. The woman’s feet were covered by the poncho’s hem, her face hidden in the shadow of its hood, and she could almost have passed for some demonic minion of the underworld were it not for the incongruous addition of the bedraggled ginger cat she held clutched to her chest. She’d grasped the sodden creature beneath its forelegs, leaving the bottom half of its belly and its back legs dangling. There was an evil gleam in its yellow eyes and Kate took a step backwards.

For a moment, neither woman spoke. Then the cat let out a pitiful meow and Kate remembered her manners. “Would you… like to come in?”

With a nod, Tabitha shuffled across the threshold.

Moving aside to let her pass, Kate closed the door behind her. “Can I take your raincoat?”

Tabitha’s head swivelled while the rest of her stayed in place, giving an uncanny, robotic quality to the movement. “Piddles!” she squawked.

“What?” said Kate, taken aback. “Oh, you mean the cat? You want me to… I’m not quite sure I… err, hold on then, I’ll grab a towel.”

Darting down the hall to the laundry cupboard, Kate returned a moment later with two of her oldest and ugliest towels. She draped one across both arms while Tabitha carefully placed the sopping moggy onto it. Kate squinted, half expecting to feel the pain of a slashing claw, but the creature remained compliant throughout the transfer. “You can hang your coat there.” Kate dipped her head towards a steel hook screwed to the back of the kitchen door.

Tabitha complied, removing the poncho to reveal an outfit consisting of a pair of baggy grey Nike track pants and a matching sweatshirt. The ensemble was well-worn, with the lettering on the sweatshirt cracked and peeled so that it now read ‘U DO IT’. Kate passed her the cat again, then used the other towel to mop up the puddle of water that had collected at Tabitha’s feet.

“Umm,” she said once she’d finished, “I was just having a cuppa. Would you like one?”

Tabitha’s round, pale lips, which had remained expressionless up until that point, broke into something resembling a smile. She nodded.

“I’m having peppermint. Will that do?”

Another nod.

“Right then. Come and sit down.” Kate arranged the towel at the foot of the door to soak up the water leaking from Tabitha’s poncho, then led her into the lounge. “This is my son, Corbin. Corbin, this is Tabitha, our downstairs neighbour. And her cat… Piddles. Say hi.”

“Hi,” said Corbin, sweeping his eyes over the visitors. Then, the appeal of a strange woman and her cat clearly not matching that of a talking steam engine, returned his attention to the TV.

“Here,” said Kate, removing a pile of clothes from the couch and placing them on top of a stack of boxes. For a moment, she thought the tower might topple, but it held fast. As Tabitha lowered herself stiffly into the vacated space, Kate headed back to the kitchen where she flicked the jug on and dropped a teabag into another mug. Tapping her fingers on the bench as she waited for it to boil, she asked, “would you like some honey?”

“No, thanks,” came the reply.

Kate filled the cup and, returning to the lounge, used her feet to guide another unopened box in front of Tabitha. She placed the cup on top and then, retrieving her own mug, settled into her seat at the other end of the couch. “Sorry about the mess.”

“That’s okay,” said Tabitha, her eyes on the curtains covering the sliding door to the balcony, their absent glaze suggesting she could see right through to the storm outside. The cat lay nestled in her lap, her hand moving rhythmically along the length of its back and by degree, the dangerous glint in the creature’s eyes mellowed, moving from murder to mere mistrust.

“So,” Kate ventured, “Piddles, huh? Is that because she—”

“He.”

“Right, he. And does he, you know, ahh—”

“Oh, no, he’s fully house-trained now,” said Tabitha sternly, transferring her gaze to meet Kate’s, “but he was only a few weeks old when I got him. I was going to call him Slayer but… well, you know what kittens are like. Piddles seemed more appropriate.”

Slayer? Kate doubted pursuing that thought would explain Tabitha’s appearance on her doorstep, so decided to get straight to the point instead. “Well, Tabitha, it’s nice to meet you, but I take it you’re not here to borrow a cup of sugar. So what can I do for you?”

Her brows knitting, Tabitha took a sip of tea before answering. “I need to leave town for a while.”

“Err, okay.”

“Tonight.”

“Really? It’s not great weather for driving.”

“No,” said Tabitha matter-of-factly, “it’s not.” Her hand trembled for an instant, slopping hot water over her fingers, but she didn’t seem to notice. “However, I don’t have a choice.” Her expression morphed, becoming familiar somehow. With a start, Kate realised why — as a champion crier herself, she had plenty of personal experience — it was the face of a woman on the verge of tears.

“Are you o—”

“Mum’s had a fall,” Tabitha squeaked. “Broken hip. She’s in hospital.”

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry.”

“Dad’s a mess. Without Mum… he hardly knows how to boil an egg. I have to go.”

“Of course, of course. You poor thing, what terrible news. Is she going to be okay?”

“I don’t know.” Kate looked from her neighbour’s stricken face to her robotic stroking hand and knew what was coming next. “But I need… someone to look after… Piddles.” Tabitha sucked in a shuddering breath. “I was going to put him in the cattery, but he hates it there. He knew something was up as soon as he saw me packing. Ran away. Took an hour to find him.”

“You should have said something. I would’ve helped.”

Tabitha gave a dejected shrug. “I didn’t want to bother you more than necessary. I hate to ask, and if there was anyone else… but since moving here… well, I’ve found it hard to make friends. And you seemed like a nice person.”

Some would disagree. Including myself, at times. “How would you know?”

“Beth said so. And I… kinda watched you move in, through the window, a little bit. It’s clear you love Corbin.”

At the sound of his name, Corbin glanced over. Kate smiled at him. That I do. “Well,” she began, while spying on me between your curtains is a little weird; given the extenuating circumstances… “I’d be glad to mind… Piddles.” Although I might have to come up with a nickname. “How is he around kids? Tabitha?”

“Sorry, I… I’m just so relieved.” Wiping a tear from her eye, Tabitha continued. “To be honest, he’s not spent much time around children, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. He’s a very friendly cat.”

“Is he? That’s good.” From within the folds of his flannelette enclosure, the tabby’s glare remained one of suspicion. Kate couldn’t blame him. She’d have to be wary. In her experience, the first thing a toddler did when faced with any cat was to yank its tail. She could imagine Piddles’ reaction to that.

She sipped her tea in silence, not sure what to say next. Tabitha followed suit. On TV, a train derailed. Thomas came to the rescue, after which The Fat Controller assured him he was a Really Useful Engine. Then, upending her mug, Tabitha downed the remaining contents in one swallow, again proving her resistance to the effects of hot liquids. Maybe she is a robot, thought Kate. “I’d better get going,” said Tabitha, shifting in her seat. “It’s a long drive to Nelson.”

“Nelson?”

“Yeah, why? Is that a problem?”

“No, no, I just… how long do you think you’ll be gone?”

There was that look again. “I don’t know,” Tabitha croaked. “I’ve taken a week off work, but… once I get up there and talk to her doctors, if it’s going to be longer, I… I’ll make some other arrangements.”

“That’s not what I meant,” said Kate earnestly. She felt the comment required an additional gesture of support and, leaning closer, sent skittering fingers in the direction of Tabitha’s knee. But then Piddles cocked his head in her direction and in the paired stares of… what did you even call a person and their cat? Master and companion? Guardian and feline? Parent and pussy? No, not that… she lost her nerve, settling for her own knee instead. “You do whatever you have to do. But this weather… are you sure you don’t want to leave it till morning?”

“No,” said Tabitha, sliding the cat off her lap and onto the couch. Kate recoiled but, while remaining watchful, Piddles made no move to extricate himself from his enclosure. “The sooner I get there,” Tabitha continued, “the better. I doubt I could sleep anyway. And if I start feeling tired, I’ll pull over. It’s amazing what a good power nap can do.” She poked a pale hand into the pocket of her track pants. “Here’s a key to my flat. There’s some food for him in the fridge. And some money to buy more. I’m sorry, fifty’s all I’ve got on me, but if you give me your bank account number, I can—”

Kate gave a dismissive wave. “Don’t be silly, I’m not taking your money.”

“Are you sure? His tastes are rather… particular. He won’t do no Whiskas.”

“Oh, a Gourmet fan, huh?”

“At a stretch. He likes fresh fish. And eye fillet; that’s his favourite.”

This earned a raised eyebrow. Jeez, when was the last time I had eye fillet? Maybe I should take the money. But Tabitha had already slipped it back into her pocket.

Crouching in front of Piddles, Tabitha scratched behind his ear. “Kate’s gonna take good care of you, so you make sure you behave, d’you hear?” In response, Piddles gave a low purr, the gentle rumble only just audible above Ringo Starr’s sultry narration and the thrum of the rain upon the roof. “Momma’s gonna miss you, my beautiful boy.” She sniffled, then with a final scratch, departed for the kitchen.

Following, Kate fired a glance at cat and Corbin on the way, but neither one demonstrated an interest in the other. She exchanged phone numbers with Tabitha before she re-engaged the services of her poncho and Kate opened the door for her to leave. A wall of cool, wet air flowed through, tickling Kate’s nose. Outside, the rain was falling even heavier than on Tabitha’s arrival. The wind had changed direction, and a fierce gust sent a flurry of drops bouncing off the concrete landing and through the doorway. Tabitha swivelled on the dampened threshold, tears welling in her eyes again, then sprang forward and thrust a pair of stumpy but surprisingly strong arms around Kate’s torso. Seconds passed while the water from the still-dripping poncho soaked its way through the fabric of Kate’s top. The moment extended through awkwardness and into the surreal before Kate discovered there was just enough freedom of movement available for her to pat Tabitha on the back in a mildly condescending fashion, hoping she’d take it as a sign to finish squeezing. It took several before Tabitha got the message and, loosening her grip with a dramatic sigh, lifted her head from where it was nuzzled into Kate’s shoulder.

“Thank you. I really appreciate this. I don’t know how I’m going to make it up to you.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” said Kate stiffly. “After all, what else are neighbours for?”

“Not everyone would be so accommodating. It’ll give me some peace of mind knowing I’ve left Piddles in such capable hands.”

Don’t be too sure. The last pet I had ended up getting flushed down the toilet.

Raising her hood, Tabitha stepped outside. Kate drew the damp folds of her top away from her skin, watching with an uncertain frown as her new neighbour descended the stairs into the rain-slicked night. Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought Tabitha had spent the duration of their friendly embrace breathing a lot harder than was strictly necessary.


As it turns out, my editor doesn’t like this chapter, so I’m going to make some changes as a result. I’m still going to have Kate adopt a cat, but significantly adjust the circumstances around how it happens. However, I’m still curious about this scene as it’s written here. And while I know it’s hard to make a judgement out of context, I’d love to know what you think. Do Kate’s actions in this scene reflect positively on her as a character and help to make her more appealing? Was I (at least somewhat) successful in making my protagonist more likeable? Let me know in the comments.


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