“How can you be so sure?”

  “Perhaps you’ve heard,” her sister said, “that I almost had the same thing?”

  “Yes, Aunt Sooty told me.”

  “It wasn’t as bad as with you. But I’d eaten out of that rubbish bin as well. And terrible things started happening. My whiskers disappeared and my tail grew smaller and smaller. And I got some very strange urges. I wanted to start walking on my hind legs. And I wanted to have a shower. Instead of washing myself properly with spit.”

  “And then?” Minou asked.

  “A dusk thrush cured me,” her sister said. “I ate a dusk thrush, that’s all. You know how rare they are in our gardens. You hardly ever see them. They only pass through. But I just happened to catch one. And that reversed it. It cured me… I know that dusk thrushes eat certain herbs that are good for all kinds of diseases. Yours too.”

  “And? Are they there now?” asked Minou.

  “Only tonight. And maybe very early in the morning. That’s why you have to come with me right away. It’s already starting to get light.”

  Minou stayed sitting there and thought about it.

  “Come on,” said her sister. “Come home.”

  “But I’ve got a home,” Minou said. “A home and a Man…” She fell silent. The attic and the Man seemed so terribly far away. And so unimportant. Her sister smelt so warm and so close.

  “Remember how we used to catch starlings together in the garden?” her sister asked. “And how fabulous our garden is in spring? Think of the golden chain tree… it’s in flower now… Soon, when you’ve got your tail back, you can walk under the golden chain tree. You can sit on the Woman’s lap and purr. You’ll be able to do everything that’s cattish and normal. What is there to think about? You’re shivering, you’re cold. Come with me, and soon you’ll have your coat back.”

  Minou was cold. It would be lovely to have fur again, she thought. To stretch out on the paving stones in the sun in thick ginger fur. The bliss of licking yourself with one paw up in the air… and then gnawing between your toes. The pure bliss of having claws you can retract or put out, whichever you choose. And spending ages scratching and scratching away at the leg of a brand-new chair.

  “I’m coming,” Minou said. “Just wait a moment…”

  “No, I’m not waiting… it’s almost dawn. What else do you need?”

  “I just wanted… I thought… I have to get my case… and my flannel and that…”

  “What?” her sister cried. “What do you need all that for? What good’s a case to a cat?”

  “I thought… maybe I could return it… just leave it somewhere,” Minou spluttered.

  “Don’t make things difficult,” her sister said irritably.

  “But I have to at least say goodbye, surely?”

  “Say goodbye? Who to? Your human? Are you crazy? He might not let you go. He’ll lock you up.”

  “Let me at least say goodbye to the Tatter Cat,” Minou cried unhappily. “And explain what’s happening… It’s only four roofs away.”

  “You stay here,” her sister hissed, “I’ll take care of it… otherwise you’ll just let him talk you into staying. Wait for me here. I’ll see the Tatter Cat there in your gutter.”

  And off she went, over the dimly lit rooftops, passing Bibi’s attic window on her way to Tibble’s gutter.

  When she came back she said, “I have to wish you luck.”

  “Who from?” Minou asked quickly.

  “Not your human,” her sister said, “I did see him. He came to the window and I left in a hurry. But the Tatter Cat wishes you luck. She said she hopes you’ll drop by soon when you have a tail again. She said I look just like you!”

  *

  Now it was morning and sunny.

  For hours, Minou had been sitting in a tool shed in the back garden of the house on Victoria Avenue. Next to the lawnmower. She was still shivering a little, more from excitement than from the cold. But soon I’ll have fur, she thought. Soon… with any luck.

  They hadn’t had any luck yet. Her sister hadn’t been able to catch a dusk thrush.

  “Is it going to take much longer?” Minou asked through the half-open door of the tool shed. “The sun’s already up.”

  “Yes, great, just hurry me, will you?” her sister snapped. “It’s a tremendous help, you hurrying me… But I’ll go and check the front garden.”

  From the tool shed Minou could see the back of the house where she had been born and where she had lived as a young cat.

  Soon she’d be allowed to go back inside and get a saucer of milk and be patted. And when she started purring, no one would say, “Shame on you, Miss Minou!”

  Here in the garden, she knew every tree and every shrub. In the old days she had caught frogs here on the lawn and once she had even caught a mole. She had scratched in the flower beds. Digging a little hole between the begonias and then sitting over it with a quivering tail and thoughtful eyes, the way cats do.

  And then scratching the soil to cover it up again when she was finished. She was starting to feel more and more cattish. It was going to work, she could feel it in her bones. Very soon now…

  Then she was shocked by a terrible cheeping sound.

  Her ginger sister was running towards her. She had nabbed one of the dusk thrushes from the front garden. In that same instant, Tibble and Bibi were standing at the front hedge, but Minou didn’t know that. Her sister trotted up triumphantly.

  She couldn’t say anything with her mouth full of thrush, but in her eyes you could see her thinking, who’s the best hunter around?

  The bird chirped and cheeped and fluttered hopelessly between her sister’s cruel jaws. For a second, Minou thought, Mmmm, yummy!

  But when her ginger sister came closer, Minou hit her hard and yelled, “Let go!”

  Her sister jumped and released her prey. The dusk thrush immediately flew off, wobbling and unsteady at first… then straight up into the sky, twittering its way to freedom.

  “That is the last straw,” her sister said in a quiet voice full of menace.

  “I… I’m sorry…” Minou said. She was utterly ashamed of herself.

  “This really is the end,” her sister hissed angrily. “I’ve been running around all night for you… all night. Finally, using all my strength and all my cunning, I catch a rare dusk thrush for you. Because I know that it’s your last chance… because you’re my sister. And look what you’ve done!”

  “I couldn’t help it,” Minou spluttered. “I didn’t stop to think.”

  “You didn’t stop to think! That’s a fine remark. After everything I’ve done for you… You knock the bird out of my mouth. Bah!”

  “I’d done it before I even realized,” Minou moaned. “And there is another one—didn’t you say there were two of them?”

  “You don’t think I’m going to go hunting for you again, do you?” Her sister was now beside herself with rage.

  “You know what you are? You’re a human! You’re just like that Woman of mine. That Woman of ours, because she used to be yours too. She eats chicken, but if we catch a bird it’s, Oh, no! Then she knocks the birds right out of our mouths. Remember? When you lived here… Remember we used to talk about it often. It made you furious. ‘The hypocrite,’ you said. ‘Eating chicken herself and taking our birds off us.’”

  “I remember,” Minou said.

  “So why did you just do exactly the same thing?”

  “I don’t know. I think I’ve changed.”

  “You’ve changed too much,” her sister said. “You’ll never recover. And now it’s over, you’re not my sister any more. Go away. Get out of my garden for good. And watch out if I ever see you here again!”

  She hissed so viciously that Minou fled… farther into the back garden. And then through a hole in the hedge into the next garden and farther, through garden after garden, with her sister’s hissing screech still audible far behind her.

  As she wandered on, she thought about what
had happened.

  How could something like that even be possible? All the while she had longed to hunt and catch birds again. Why had she done something so unnatural? So un-cattish?

  Saving a bird… what an idiotic thing to do.

  As she walked she tried to work it out. I could imagine the bird’s pain, she thought. I could imagine how frightened it was. But if you can imagine something like that, you’re not a cat any more. Not at all. Cats never feel sorry for birds. Ever. I think I’ve let my last chance slip by.

  The weather changed while Tibble and Bibi were still on their way back to their own neighbourhood. The wind got up, big clouds drifted over and raindrops started to fall.

  “Will you be on time for school?” Tibble asked.

  “Easy,” said Bibi. “It’s nowhere near half eight yet.”

  They had reached Green Square and Tibble said, “Let’s shelter from the rain for a bit. That bench under the trees is dry.” They sat down and sucked their peppermints, feeling a little sad.

  I’ve got my job back, thought Tibble. And I don’t have to move out of my flat any more. So everything’s worked out. I’ve just lost my secretary. And I don’t have a Cat Press Agency. No more news from cats. I’ll have to do it myself. Am I up to it? Am I brave enough?

  “Of course I am,” he told himself sternly. “I’m not even that shy any more. I’m brave enough to go up to all kinds of people to ask them questions. And having to do it myself will actually be good for me. But I’m still not happy. You’d think I’d be a tiny bit happy, but I’m not.”

  Miss Minou… he thought. There were so many things I wanted to ask her. Before she changed back to a cat. And did I ever actually thank her? No, never. I always told her off for acting too cattish. And I never even paid her either. Not that money would be any use to her now.

  That thought didn’t make him any happier. Just a pair of gloves… that’s all I ever gave her… and that was only because I was scared she’d scratch someone. If she ever comes back—as a person, even if she’s a very cattish kind of person—I’ll never get angry again. She can hiss sometimes if she likes. And purr too. And rub up against people. She was actually sweetest of all when she was purring. Purrfect, thought Tibble. And then a dog barked just behind their bench.

  It was a Great Dane. It was standing under a tree and barking at something in the branches.

  Without a word, Tibble and Bibi jumped up and went over to look. The dog was making an enormous racket and leapt up against the trunk like a wild thing until its master called it. “Carlo!” he called. “Here, boy. Sit!”

  Carlo whimpered for a moment, then obeyed.

  Tibble and Bibi stood there looking up in the rain that was dripping down from the leaves and there, very high up in the branches they saw a leg and a shoe. The milk van came round the corner to Green Square.

  “Excuse me, could you help for a moment?” Tibble asked. “My secretary is up a tree. And she’s too scared to come down.”

  “It was a dog, I suppose,” the milkman said. “It happens all the time. We’re used to it round here. Hang on, I’ll park the van under the tree.”

  Two minutes later Minou was down at street level again and the milkman had driven off. She was wet and her clothes were covered with green smudges, but that didn’t matter. Tibble and Bibi were both grinning with relief and they both wrapped an arm around her wet shoulders.

  “How wonderful,” Tibble said. “It’s fantastic! It was all just our imagination! It wasn’t true at all! We just let ourselves get carried away!”

  “What wasn’t true?” Minou asked.

  The rain had grown heavier and they were getting wetter and wetter, but none of them felt it.

  “We saw you early this morning, Miss Minou,” Tibble said. “At least we thought it was you.”

  “A ginger cat,” Bibi said. “First on the rooftops!”

  “That was my sister,” said Minou. “My quintuplet sister. We’re very similar.”

  “And then in Victoria Avenue,” Tibble said. “We went there and we saw that cat again. With a thrush.”

  “Yes, that was her too. My sister.”

  “But we’re all getting drenched! Let’s go home!” Tibble cried.

  And when he said that—“Let’s go home!”—he felt so enormously happy that he wanted to burst into song right there in the middle of the street.

  “I can’t come with you,” Bibi said sadly, “I have to go to school. And now I won’t hear about everything that’s happened.”

  “Come to our place as soon as school’s finished,” Minou said. “Then I’ll tell the whole story all over again.”

  Sopping wet, Tibble and Minou arrived at the attic, where all the cats were waiting for them. Fluff and the Tatter Cat and the little kittens all crowded around their feet, miaowing and purring.

  “We’ll put on some dry clothes first,” Tibble said. “Then you can tell me everything.”

  Minou told him what had happened. About her sister. And about why she’d left without saying anything first.

  “After all, I’d always been so desperate to turn back into a cat,” she said. “At least I thought so. And when it finally came down to it, I didn’t want to any more. I spent an awfully long time shilly-shallying.”

  “And that’s over now?” Tibble asked.

  “I think so,” said Minou. “My shilly-shallying is over. I want to be a human. But I’m afraid a lot of my cattish traits are here to stay. I just shot up that tree for instance. When the dog came.”

  “That’s fine,” said Tibble.

  “And I can feel that I’m going to start purring again.”

  “It’s all fine,” said Tibble. “Purr away. And you can hiss and rub up against people too.”

  “Hissing’s not necessary at the moment,” said Minou. “But a nice little head rub…”

  “Be my guest,” said Tibble.

  Minou rubbed her head against his shoulder. It was a very wet head, because her red hair was still far from dry.

  “I… I was s-so scared,” Tibble stuttered. “So scared I’d never see you again, Miss Minou. It’s only just sinking in how terrible I felt when you were gone. Don’t run away again like that. Please! Promise me that!”

  “I won’t run away again,” Minou said. “But I was worried you didn’t need me any more. Now you’ve got over your shyness.”

  “I need you so much, Minou,” Tibble said. “Not just as a secretary, but also…” he blushed. “Well… I just need you,” he said. “Here in the house, with me, do you understand what I’m saying, Minou?”

  He noticed that he’d grabbed hold of her hand. And that he’d stopped calling her “Miss Minou”. He let go again and looked away nervously. Until now she’d always insisted on that Miss. And she’d always called him “Mr Tibble”. But now she just smiled and said, “I’d love some breakfast, Tibble. A whole tin of sardines. And after that I’ll just pop out onto the roof for a second. The Tatter Cat says she’d like to talk to me in private for a moment.”

  “Do that first then,” said Tibble. “And in the meantime I’ll get a big breakfast ready with all kinds of yummy things.” He set to work in the kitchen and Minou and the Tatter Cat went out through the window and onto the roof.

  “Something’s wrong,” said Minou. “What is it? You look like you’re not glad to see me back.”

  “Of course I’m glad you’re back,” said the Tatter Cat. “That’s not it at all. It’s just… Look, I don’t respect you any more… What can I say? This latest thing is just too much.”

  “What? Coming back here?”

  “No, I’m talking about this business with that thrush and your sister! I’ve seen plenty in all my years as a stray, but nothing like this. Feeling pity for a thrush! It makes me want to puke! Next thing you’ll pity a fish. You’ll go up to the fishmonger and knock the fish right out of his paws… sorry… his hands. Never mind me, I’m a bit upset.”

  “Yes, you could tone things down a little,” said M
inou.

  “And I wanted to tell you that I’m heading off again too,” said the Tatter Cat. “I’m going back to being a stray. My kids are already eating from saucers. As far as I’m concerned you can start giving them away. They don’t need me any more. Oh yeah, I’ve got some news for you too. Just heard it from the Deodorant Cat. The perfume factory expansion is off. The Councillor refused to approve it. Tell your human.”

  “Thanks,” said Minou.

  “Because the Cat Press Agency will be continuing as normal, won’t it?” the Tatter Cat asked.

  “Sure, everything will continue as normal.”

  “And you’ll be back in your box?” the Tatter Cat asked. “To sleep?”

  “Of course,” said Minou. “Why not?”

  “Oh… I don’t know.” The Tatter Cat stared at her mistrustfully with her yellow eyes. She was looking very battered and grimy again. “You know,” she said softly, “I suddenly had a feeling you were going to marry him.”

  “What gives you that idea?” Minou asked.

  “It was just a feeling…” the Tatter Cat said. “And I’m just warning you. If you do that, you’ll have blown it completely. You’ll never be able to turn back into a cat. And maybe it’ll get so bad that you won’t be able to talk to us any more. You won’t understand Cattish. You’ll even forget the Yawl-Yowl Song.”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” said Minou.

  Tibble leant out of the kitchen window and called, “Breakfast is ready! For cats and people!”

  “Come on,” said Minou. “Let’s go inside.”

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Annie M. G. Schmidt's Novels