The Cat Who Came in Off the Roof (10 page)

16

The Editorial Cat

T
he next morning there was a constant stream of cats up on the rooftops.

They’d all been informed. The cats had passed the word on from one to the other that very night.

“This is the best news since Dunkirk,” said the School Cat.

They were sitting on the roof of the Social Security Building. Minou had never been in the middle of such a large group of cats before, and definitely not in broad daylight. She’d brought a bag of meat with her and was sharing it out on all sides. Ecumenica was so wild with joy that she burst out in a fit of harsh screeching — quite unseemly for a Church Cat. “We’re going to celebrate!” she screamed.

“Yeah, let’s celebrate,” the Tatter Cat said. She was proud that she could climb up to the highest rooftop again despite her leg.

“There’s nothing to celebrate,” Minou said. “My human is still fired and in a few days he’ll have to move out of his flat.”

“Wait and see,” said Cross-eyed Simon, “anything could happen today. The mood’s changed. People don’t like Ellmore any more.
My
human’s furious with him.”

“
Mine
too,” said the Councillor’s cat.

“The whole town’s talking about it,” said the Metropole Cat. “And this time, I mean the people.”

Meanwhile Tibble was stuck in the attic with the six little kittens. His big cats were out on the roof, including Minou.

He’d hardly seen her since the reading and there were all kinds of things he was dying to ask her.

He wandered around the flat and didn’t really know what to do with himself. Then the doorbell rang.

It was Mr Van Dam, his downstairs neighbour. When he finally made it to the top of the stairs, he seemed a little bashful and didn’t want to sit down.

“This won’t take long,” he said. “I’ve heard that my wife has given you notice to leave. That she wants you out of our attic. She did that without telling me. And she shouldn’t have. I don’t agree with it.”

Tibble said, “Please, have a seat.”

Mr Van Dam sat down on the edge of a chair.

“Sometimes she overdoes things,” he said. “She was angry because there were so many cats on the roof. But I told her right away, ‘Tibble can’t help that. That’s just what this 
neighbourhood
’s like. There happen to be a lot of cats around here.’

Tibble nodded.

“And you having cats yourself,” Mr Van Dam continued, “that’s not a problem for us at all. She says it is… but I disagree.”

“Thank you,” said Tibble.

“And otherwise she was very angry about that article of yours in the paper,” Mr Van Dam said. “But now we all know that you were absolutely right. It was true. I just heard that it was Ellmore who ran into the fish stall. And the police have finally found a couple of witnesses.”

“Oh,” said Tibble. “Great. I can’t offer you a cigarette because I don’t smoke, but would you like a peppermint?”

“I’d love one,” said Mr Van Dam. “You also had a… um… a secretary… somewhere.” He looked around vaguely.

“Yes,” said Tibble, “but she’s not here right now. She’s out on the roof.”

“Cute little kittens,” said Mr Van Dam. “I’d love to have one.”

“Oh,” said Tibble, “you can. When they’re a little bigger.”

“No, I can’t. My wife doesn’t like cats, you see. There’s no way round that. But there’s
one
thing I want to tell you, Tibble: this is your home and you can rent it from us as long as you like. That’s all there is to it.”

“That’s fantastic…” Tibble sighed.

He would have loved to tell Minou straight away, but she wasn’t there. And right after Mr Van Dam went downstairs again, the phone rang.

It was Tibble’s boss.

Asking if he could drop by shortly.

Half an hour later he was back in that old familiar spot, sitting in front of his boss’s desk. And the Editorial Cat was there too and winked at him.

“By the looks of things you were right, Tibble,” the Editor said. “That article you wrote was
true
.”

“Of course it was true,” Tibble said. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have written it.”

“Not so fast…” his boss said. “That doesn’t alter the fact that you didn’t have the slightest bit of evidence. And you mustn’t ever write something without evidence to back it up. What you did was wrong. Let’s hope you never do it again.”

Tibble looked up. “Again?” he asked.

“Yes. Because I hope you’re willing to carry on here with us at the paper. You are, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yes,” said Tibble. “I’d love to!”

“Good, that’s agreed then. And… oh, yeah, Tibble… one last thing before you go: it’s been a long time since you wrote anything about cats. It’s all right if you want to write about them again sometimes. As long as it’s not too often.”

“Great,” said Tibble.

As soon as the conversation was over, the Editorial Cat slipped out of the window and hurried up to the roof to tell Minou the news.

“Your human’s back with the newspaper!”

Minou sighed with relief.

“So now you can go away again,” the cat said.

“Go away? Where?”

“Well,” said the Editorial Cat. “Your sister wants you back, doesn’t she? You’re allowed to go back to your old house now, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know…” Minou said, very flustered all of a sudden. “Where did you hear that?”

“On the way here… from a couple of different cats. Haven’t you spoken to her yet?”

“No,” said Minou.

“You’ll see her soon then. She’s coming to get you.”

“But I don’t want to move,” Minou said. “I’ve already got a human. And he still needs me. How else is he going to get news?”

“He doesn’t need you any more,” the Editorial Cat said. “He’s changed so much! He’s not shy any more, not at all. He’s not scared of anything. Haven’t you noticed?”

“Yes,” Minou said. “It’s true. He’s brave enough to go up to anyone and ask anything now. He was so angry at Ellmore, he stopped being scared. He Learnt to Dare.”

On their way back to the attic, Minou talked a little with the Tatter Cat, who immediately brought up the subject of her sister.

“Your sister wants you to drop by,” the Tatter Cat said. “I haven’t spoken to her myself, but that’s the message going round. I’d get over there if I were you.”

“Yes…” Minou hesitated.

“I hear she’s found some remedy that will cure you. That would be a real blessing,” the Tatter Cat said. “The
bliss
of being a cat again… don’t you think?” She peered at Minou with her yellow eyes.

“I… um… I don’t know any more…” Minou said.

She found Tibble in the living room, over the moon about all the things that had been happening.

“I’ve got my job back and my flat!” he shouted. “We’re going to celebrate with fish, fried fish, and lots of it.” But because he was so happy, he didn’t notice how quiet Minou was. Quiet and thoughtful and not happy at all.

17

A Cat Again?

T
ibble was woken by a downy paw stroking his face.

It was Fluff.

Tibble looked at his alarm clock. “Quarter past three… Fluff, why are you waking me up in the middle of the night? Go back to the end of the bed and lie down.”

But Fluff miaowed insistently.

“Have you got something to say? Are you trying to tell me something? You know I don’t understand you. Go and tell Minou. She should be in her box.”

But Fluff kept miaowing until Tibble got up.

Minou wasn’t in her box. Apparently she was still out on the roof. It was already starting to get light. The kittens were
playing in the junk room and Fluff kept miaowing at Tibble until he followed him over to the kitchen window.

“What is it? Do I have to look out?”

Tibble leant out of the window and looked out over the rooftops. There were two cats sitting nearby on the slanting roof. One was the Tatter Cat. The other was a beautiful ginger cat with a white chest and a white-tipped tail.

Tibble leant out farther and the window squeaked. The ginger cat looked at him.

He was so shocked he almost lost his balance and had to grab hold of the window frame. It was Minou.

The eyes he knew so well. Minou’s eyes. And Minou’s face, totally, but now
all
cat.

He wanted to call out,
Minou!
but the shock had made him hoarse and taken his breath away. It only lasted a moment anyway. The ginger cat turned and disappeared over the edge of the roof with a few quick jumps.

The Tatter Cat stayed where she was. She just flicked her tail and looked at him with her mysterious yellow eyes.

Feeling a little dizzy, Tibble went inside, sat down on the couch and started to chew his nails.

“Ridiculous,” he said. “Nonsense. I’m letting my imagination run away with me. Miss Minou will come back any moment now.”

Fluff kept circling around him and trying to tell him something. Never before had Tibble
so
wished he understood Cattish…
Something
was going on… That was all he knew.

“What are you trying to tell me, Fluff? Has she changed back to a cat?”

“Ah, nonsense,” he said again. “I’m still half asleep. I’m dreaming. I’m going back to bed.”

He tried to go back to sleep, but couldn’t. He just lay there waiting… Usually Minou came home as soon as it got light. Then she’d get in her box. Now she didn’t come and he grew more and more worried. In the end he got up to make some coffee.

It was six o’clock. And Minou still hadn’t come home.

Tibble went to see if her things were still there.

Her flannel and toothbrush and things. They were all there. Her case was still in the junk room too. That’s a relief.

A relief? Why should it be a relief? If she’s changed back to a cat, she won’t need any of that any more.

I’m going mad. What kind of rubbish have I got into my skull?

At quarter past six the doorbell rang.

It’s her! thought Tibble. She’s coming up through the front door.

But it wasn’t Minou. It was Bibi who came up the stairs.

“I know it’s really early, Tibble,” she said. “But I got such a fright. I looked out of my window this morning… I have a view out over the rooftops too, just like you… and I saw Minou. She went past.”

“Yes?” said Tibble. “And?”

Bibi was silent for a moment and looked distraught.

“Go on, Bibi…”

“She’s turned back into a cat again,” Bibi said. She said it hesitantly. She was afraid that Tibble would laugh at her. But Tibble stayed serious. He did say, “Bibi, come on… don’t be silly…” But he said it without any conviction.

“It’s really true,” Bibi said.

“I think I saw her too,” Tibble said. “I went to call her but she ran off. She could be anywhere now.”

“I think she’s gone back to her old house,” Bibi said. “To her garden.”

“Which garden?”

“On Victoria Avenue. She told me once that her real home was in Victoria Avenue. A house with a golden chain tree next to the patio. That’s where she lived when she was still a cat.”

Fluff started miaowing again.

“I don’t understand what he’s saying,” Bibi said. “But he’s probably agreeing with us. What should we do, Tibble?”

“Nothing,” Tibble said. “What can we do?”

“Go there,” Bibi said. “To Victoria Avenue. To see if she’s there.”

“No,” said Tibble. “That’s ridiculous.”

But ten minutes later they were walking down the street together in the early morning light.

It was a very long way and it took them a while to find Victoria Avenue. It was a short, winding street with white houses and big front gardens.

“I can’t see a ginger cat anywhere,” said Tibble. “I don’t see a golden chain tree anywhere either.”

“It must be at the back,” Bibi said. “I’ll go round and walk through the gardens. Nobody will be up this early.”

It was very quiet on the street at this hour. Birds were singing and the blossom was swaying in the breeze. Tibble sat down on a garden wall to wait for Bibi to come back. In front of one of the houses there was a big rubbish bin. The house itself wasn’t being used as a home any more, it looked more like offices. A sign on the gate said
Institute for Biochemical Research
in black letters.

And that reminded Tibble of something Minou had told him: that as a cat she’d eaten something from a rubbish bin that had changed her. He’d laughed about it at the time, but now he thought, who knows… with all these modern scientific experiments… They must have thrown out something that went wrong.

Bibi had reappeared next to him.

“It must be that one,” she said, pointing at the house next door to the institute.

“There’s a golden chain tree out the back. But I didn’t see any cats. Maybe she’s gone inside.
Oh, look!
”

Tibble looked.

The ginger cat was standing in the front garden. Under a lilac bush.

She turned her head to look at Tibble and Bibi, staring straight at them. And again they both saw Minou’s eyes.

But the most horrific thing of all was that the cat had a thrush in her jaws. A freshly caught, live, fluttering thrush.

Bibi yelled and waved her arms and in a flash the cat ran off through the bushes at the side of the house with the bird in her mouth.

“I’m going after her!” Bibi cried, but Tibble stopped her.

“Don’t,” he said. “That bird’s probably wounded and half dead… it’s best to just leave it.”

They stood there at the hedge. Minou had disappeared round the back of the house with her prey and Bibi started to cry.

“Don’t cry,” Tibble said. “It’s just the way things are. You can’t stop a cat from being a cat. And cats catch birds.”

“I saw that expression on Minou’s face a lot,” said Bibi. “When we were in the park and a bird landed near us. I thought it was
creepy. I’d shout out, ‘It’s not allowed.’ And then she was always so ashamed of herself. But now she’s not ashamed any more. And that’s why I’m crying.”

Tibble was only half listening. He was wondering whether he should ring the doorbell. He wanted to ask, excuse me, ma’am, but was your ginger cat missing for a while?

But he thought about it and realized that the lady who lived here wouldn’t even be up yet. It was still so early. And anyway… what difference did it make? She’d probably say, yes, she was gone for quite a long time, but now she’s back.

What good would that do him?

“Come on, let’s go,” he said.

“Don’t you want to take her with you?” Bibi asked.

“No,” said Tibble. “She’s someone else’s cat. And I’ve still got eight cats left.”

Slowly and silently they walked back through the streets.

It hadn’t been a pleasant sight… their own Minou with a live bird between her jaws.