The Cat Who Came in Off the Roof (2 page)

2

A Stray Cat

W
hile Tibble was fretting and worrying in his attic, the strange young lady was closer than he thought.

Just a couple of streets away she was sitting in a garden, tucked in behind some shrubs. Night had fallen and it was pitch-black. A strong wind was blowing and the garden was extremely wet.

She sat there with her little case and made a small mewing noise. First nothing happened.

She made the noise again. And now an answer came from the direction of the house.

“
Mew
…”

An ancient but very dignified black cat came walking towards
her very slowly, then stopped suspiciously, some distance from the shrubs.

“Aunt Sooty…” the young lady whispered.

The old cat spat and shrunk back.

“Now I see…” she hissed. “
You!
”

“Do you still recognize me, Aunt Sooty?”

“You’re Minou! My niece Minou from Victoria Avenue!”

“That’s right. I heard you were living here and here I am.”

“I’ve already heard about it,” the old cat said nervously. “About what happened to you… all the cats are talking about it. How could something like that happen, Minou? To you, a member of one of Killenthorn’s very best cat families! What does your sister say?”

“She doesn’t want to know me any more,” the young lady said. “She says it must be my own fault. She gave me the cold tail…”

“
Ssss
…” said Aunt Sooty. “I can’t blame her. You must have done something ghastly to be punished like this. Turned into a
human
! What a horrific punishment. I wouldn’t be human for all the canaries in China. Tell me, was it a magic spell?”

“I don’t know,” Minou said.

“But you must know
how
it happened?”

“I went out as a cat and came back as a human, that’s all I know.”

“Incredible,” Aunt Sooty said. “But it must have been your fault. You probably did something terribly
uncattish
. What was it?”

“Nothing. I didn’t do anything. Not as far as I know.”

“And you’re wearing clothes,” Aunt Sooty continued. “Did you have them on straight away?”

“I… I found them somewhere,” Minou said. “I couldn’t roam the streets naked.”

“Ugh! And you have a
case
…” Aunt Sooty hissed. “What’s the point of that?”

“I found it too.”

“What’s in it?”

“Pyjamas. And a toothbrush. And a flannel and some soap.”

“So you don’t wash yourself with spit any more?”

“No.”

“Then all is lost,” Aunt Sooty said. “I’d still hoped that it might come good. But now I’m afraid there’s no hope for you at all.”

“Aunt Sooty, I’m hungry. Do you have anything I can eat?”

“I’m sorry, not a thing. I’ve already finished this evening’s Kit-e-kat. And I have a very tidy human. She never leaves food lying around. Everything always goes straight back in the fridge.”

“Is she nice?” Minou asked.

“Absolutely. Why?”

“Maybe she’d like to have me too?”

“No!” Aunt Sooty cried, horrified. “Child, the thought of it. The way you are now?”

“I’m looking for a home, Aunt Sooty. I need somewhere to stay. Can’t you think of anywhere? Here in the neighbourhood?”

“I’m old,” Aunt Sooty said. “I almost never make it up onto the rooftops any more. I hardly even go into other cats’ gardens. But I still have a few acquaintances left. One garden up, there’s Mr Smith’s cat, the teacher’s. That way. Go and talk to him. He’s called Simon. Cross-eyed Simon. He’s Siamese, but perfectly friendly.”

“And you think maybe that teacher would…”

“No!” Aunt Sooty said. “You can’t stay there either. But Simon knows all the cats in the whole neighbourhood. And that means he knows all the humans too. He can probably point you in the right direction.”

“Thank you, Aunt Sooty. Bye. I’ll drop by again soon.”

“If it doesn’t work out, talk to the Tatter Cat. A stray. You can usually find her on the roof of the Social Security Building. Not that she has a particularly good reputation, of course. She’s a scruff and a tramp. But very well informed, because of all the time she spends on the streets.”

“Thanks.”

“And now I’m going inside,” Aunt Sooty said. “I am deeply sorry for you, Minou, but I still think you must have done something to deserve it. And one last piece of advice: wash yourself with spit. Lick yourself. That is the beginning and end of all wisdom.”

With her tail held high, Aunt Sooty strolled off through the garden and back to the house while her poor niece picked up her case and crawled through a hole in the hedge. Off in search of the cat next door.

Tibble wasn’t doing well. He paced the floor of his attic and sat down every now and then at his typewriter, only to tear up everything he’d typed in a rage and rummage through the drawers in search of his peppermints. He had the idiotic idea that he couldn’t think or write without a peppermint, but meanwhile it was getting later and later.

“I should actually go back out,” he said. “To see if anything’s happening anywhere. Something I can write about. But I
don’t think anyone’s out on the street any more with this weather. Strange that Fluff’s staying out on the roof so long. Usually he comes back a lot sooner. I think I’ll just go to bed. Tomorrow I’ll go up to the boss and say, ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. I don’t have what it takes to be a newspaperman.’ And he’ll say, ‘Yes, I think it would be best if you started looking for something else.’ And that will be that. I’ll go and look for another job.”

There was a quiet noise in the kitchen.

It was the bin.

“That’s Fluff,” Tibble said. “The scrounger! He’s trying to get the fish bones out of the bin. Even though he’s already had a whole fish. I’d better go have a look, otherwise he’ll tip the whole bin over and I’ll have to clean it all up.”

Tibble got up and opened the door to the kitchen.

He was shocked by what he saw.

It wasn’t Fluff. It was a woman. The young lady from the tree, who was now digging around in his rubbish bin. There was only one way she could have got in—through the window that opened out onto the roof.

The moment she heard him, she spun around just as she was stuffing a big fish skeleton into her mouth with her paws. No, no… with her
hands
, Tibble thought immediately, but she looked so much like a wet, timid stray cat that he’d almost gone, “Psssst, scat!” But he didn’t say a word.

She took the bones back out of her mouth and gave him a friendly smile. Her green eyes were slightly slanted.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was just sitting on the roof with your cat Fluff. And it smelt so delicious. That’s why I stepped in through the window for a moment. He’s still out there.”

She had a very respectable and ladylike way of talking. But she was soaked through. Her red hair was stuck to her head in clumps and her jacket and skirt were sopping and formless.

And suddenly he felt so sorry for her. She was just like a sad, half-drowned cat. A hungry stray!

“I’m afraid we ate all the fish,” Tibble said. “But if you like… I could give you a sauc—” He’d almost said a saucer of milk. “… A glass of milk. And a sandwich perhaps? With sardines?”

“Yes, please,” she said politely, but meanwhile she was dizzy and wild-eyed with hunger.

“Perhaps you can put that back then,” Tibble said, pointing at the skeleton in her hand.

She dropped it in the bin. And there she sat, shy and wet on a kitchen chair, watching Tibble open a tin of sardines.

“May I ask your name?” Tibble said.

“Minou.
Miss
Minou.”

“I’m—”

“Mr Tibble,” she said. “I know.”

“Just Tibble. Everyone calls me Tibble.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather stick to
Mr
Tibble.”

“What were you doing up on the roof?” he asked.

“I um… I was looking for a job.”

Tibble looked at her with surprise. “On the roof?”

But she didn’t answer. The sandwiches were ready. Tibble went to put the plate down on the floor, but changed his mind. She probably eats like a person, he thought. And he was right. She ate her sandwiches very daintily with little bites and nibbles.

“You have a job at the newspaper,” she said between
mouthfuls
. “But not for long.”

“How do you know that?” Tibble cried.

“It’s what I heard,” she said. “That article didn’t work out. The one about me up the tree. Too bad.”

“Now, stop right there,” Tibble said. “I’d like very much to know who told you that. I haven’t spoken to anyone about that at all.”

He waited until her mouth was empty. It was the last bite. She picked up the last crumbs with a finger and licked it clean. Then she half closed her eyes.

She’s falling asleep, Tibble thought.

But she didn’t go to sleep. She sat there staring sweetly into space. And now Tibble heard a soft rumbling noise. Minou was purring.

“I asked you something,” Tibble said.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Well… it’s just something I heard.”

Tibble sighed. Then he noticed that she was shivering. No wonder, with all those wet clothes.

“Don’t you have anything dry to put on?”

“Yes,” she said. “In my case.”

Only now did Tibble notice that she still had her case with her. It was on the floor under the window.

“You should have a hot shower,” he said. “And change into something dry. Otherwise you’ll catch your death. The bathroom’s just there.”

“Thanks very much,” she said. She stepped across the room to pick up her case and when she passed him on the way back she pushed her head up against his arm for a moment, wriggling her shoulders slightly at the same time.

Tibble jumped back as if a crocodile was trying to bite him. She’s rubbing up against me! he thought.

Once she’d closed the bathroom door behind her, Tibble sat down in the living room. “This is mad,” he said to himself. “A strange woman comes in through the attic window. Half starved. Then purrs and rubs up against you!”

Suddenly something terrible occurred to him. Surely she doesn’t… she won’t want to stay with him, will she? She was looking for a job, she’d said. But she was obviously looking for somewhere to live. Like a cat looking for a new home.

“I don’t want her here,” Tibble said. “I’ve already got a cat. I’m way too happy living alone and doing my own thing. And anyway, I’ve only got one bed. I should never have let her use the shower!”

Here she was again… coming back into the room.

See! Tibble said to himself. Just as I thought. She was standing there in her pyjamas with a dressing gown on over the top and slippers on her feet.

She gestured at the wet two-piece suit she was holding draped over one arm. “Is it all right if I dry this in front of the fire?”

“Um… yes, go ahead,” Tibble said. “But I want to say straight away that you, um…”

“What?”

“Look, Miss Minou, it’s fine for you to sit down for an hour or so until your clothes dry. But you can’t stay here.”

“No?”

“No. I’m sorry. That’s absolutely out of the question.”

“Oh,” she said. “Not even for just one night?”

“No,” Tibble said. “I don’t have a bed for you.”

“I don’t need a bed. Back there in the junk room there’s a big box. A cardboard box that used to have tinned soup in it.”

“A box?” Tibble said. “You want to sleep in a box?”

“Absolutely. If you put some fresh newspaper in it first.”

Tibble shook his head stubbornly. “I’ll give you some money for a hotel,” he said. “There’s one just around the corner.”

He reached for his wallet, but she refused point blank. “Oh, no,” she said. “There’s no need. If it’s really not possible, I’ll just be off. I’ll put my wet clothes back on and leave at once.”

She stood there looking pitiful. And with such a frightened look on her face. And outside you could hear the wind and the rain. You couldn’t possibly send a poor cat out onto the roof in weather like this.

“All right, fine, but just one night,” Tibble said.

“Can I sleep in the box?”

“If you like. But under one condition. You have to tell me how you knew all those things about me. Who I am and where I work and what kind of article I was trying to write.”

They heard a small flopping sound in the kitchen. It was Fluff, finally back from his roof walk and coming in with wet, grey fur.

“He told me,” Minou said, pointing at Fluff. “He told me all about you. And actually I’ve spoken to lots of cats who live around here. They all said you were the nicest.”

Tibble blushed. He felt strangely flattered. “You… you talk to cats?” he asked.

“Yes.”

What nonsense, thought Tibble. The woman’s quite mad.

“And, er… how did you come to be able to talk to cats?”

“I was one myself,” she said.

Totally bonkers, thought Tibble.

Minou had sat down in front of the fire, next to Fluff. They were sitting together on the rug and Tibble could now hear
two purring sounds mixed together. It sounded very peaceful. Shall I write that article about her after all? Tibble thought.