Minou walked down the street with a shopping basket over one arm.
Besides that first time when the dog treed her, she’d never seen this neighbourhood in the daytime. She only really knew the town from the rooftops and in the dark. And she knew the back gardens better than the streets and squares.
She felt like slinking along and hiding behind parked cars and in doorways as she went, darting from one to the other. The people and traffic made her very uneasy.
“But I don’t have to sneak around,” she told herself. “I’m a human going out to do some shopping. Here comes a doggy. There’s no need to get frightened; it’s only a little dog… and I mustn’t hiss at it. And I definitely shouldn’t stop to sniff the rubbish bins. I’m going shopping, like all the other humans out and about in this part of town.”
From very far away Minou smelt the fish stall on Green Square and started walking faster and faster to get there sooner.
And when she was almost there, she circled it a couple of times at a distance until she suddenly thought, I can buy some fish. I’ve got a purse. I don’t need to beg and I don’t need to steal. She went up to the fishmonger. He smelt delicious and Minou slipped in a quick rub of her head against his shoulder. He didn’t notice, he was too busy gutting fish.
She bought herring and mackerel, and lots of everything, and after she’d paid she brushed her head against the fishmonger’s arm once again. He looked up with surprise, but Minou just strode off on her way to the baker’s.
She passed Mr Smith’s school. The windows were open, she could hear children singing and she could see the class sitting there. Bibi was there too.
Now a cat jumped up onto the school wall. It was the School Cat. “Nosey-nosey first,” he said.
Minou pushed her nose forward and felt the School Cat’s cold, pink nose against it. This was how the cats here in town greeted each other when they weren’t fighting.
“If you give me a piece of fish,” the School Cat said, “I’ll tell you some news for the paper.”
Minou gave him some.
“Fantastic news,” the School Cat said. “The Spanish Armada has been defeated. By Sir Francis Drake. Make sure they put it in the paper.”
“Thanks,” said Minou.
Two houses up sat Cross-eyed Simon, Mr Smith’s Siamese.
“Give me a piece of fish,” he said, “and I’ll tell you something.”
Once he had the piece in his claws, he said: “You should never listen to the School Cat. He always sits in on the history lessons. He thinks it’s exciting and doesn’t realize it all happened ages ago.”
“I got that,” Minou said. “But what did you want to tell me?”
“That,” said Simon.
“You’re all just after the fish,” Minou said. “I’m glad I bought a lot.”
Now she passed the factory. It was the Deodorant Factory. This was where they made spray cans with smells in them and it stank of disgusting violets. Nowhere near as nice as the fish stall.
Minou was about to hurry past when the Factory Cat came up to her. The Deodorant Cat was one of the Tatter Cat’s sons. He had a very strong smell of violets about him.
“I suppose you’ve got some news for me if I give you some fish,” Minou said.
“How’d you guess?” the cat asked.
“You can have a piece of mackerel.”
“Firstly,” said the Deodorant Cat, “the nicest canteen boy in the whole factory just got fired. He’s over there now. He’s called Billy. It’s a terrible shame because he was really kind to me and patted me every day.”
“Why’d they fire him?” Minou asked.
“He was always too late.”
“Oh, that’s a shame,” said Minou. “But it’s not news for the paper.”
“No? Fine, that was ‘Firstly’ then. Now comes ‘Secondly’. There are plans to expand our factory. I sat in on a secret meeting today. They’re going to turn this whole neighbourhood into one big perfume factory.”
“That’s real news,” said Minou. “Thanks.”
“But they don’t have permission yet!” The cat called after her. “The Councillor still has to approve it.”
Minou hadn’t bumped into many people during her shopping expedition. But she had met quite a few cats and there were a few more on her way to the baker’s.
The baker’s wife was standing behind the counter and there were already a couple of women in the shop. Minou waited politely for her turn, but while she was standing there looking around, Muffin the Bakery Cat came into the shop from the house, miaowing loudly.
She’s after my fish, thought Minou, but then she heard what Muffin was saying.
“Miaow, miaow! Now, now!” the cat cried. “Tell her now!”
Minou hurried up to the counter and said, “Your little boy Jack has got the paraffin bottle. Upstairs, in the bathroom.”
The baker’s wife looked at her with shock, dropped the bread rolls on the counter and ran out of the shop without a word.
Minou felt the stares of the other customers. It was very intimidating and she was about to hurry off when the baker’s wife came back.
“It was true,” she panted. “I got upstairs and there was my three-year-old, little Jack… with the paraffin bottle… pouring it out… You can’t leave them alone for a second… Thank you so much for warning me…”
Suddenly she stopped and looked at Minou.
“How did you know?” she asked. “You can’t see into our bathroom from down here.”
Minou was about to say, “Muffin told me,” but then she saw the women staring at her. She stumbled over her words, “I… it was just a feeling.”
“Well, thank you anyway. Whose turn is it?”
“The young lady can go first,” said the other customers.
Minou asked for bread and biscuits and paid.
No sooner had she left the shop than they started talking behind her back.
“That’s Mr Tibble’s young lady…”
“She’s his secretary… and she sleeps in a box…”
“And she sits on the roof at night…”
“A very strange young lady…”
“Well,” said the baker’s wife after listening to it all, “she may be strange, but she certainly did me a tremendous favour. End of story. A small loaf of brown, you said?”
Meanwhile Tibble was waiting.
More than an hour had passed since Minou went out to do some shopping. Just bread and fish, that couldn’t take this long.
He sat at his desk, nervously chewing his nails. Just when he was starting to wonder whether he should go out to look for her, the phone rang.
“Hello,” said Tibble.
“Hello, Mr Tibble, this is Mrs Van Dam speaking. From downstairs, you know. I’m calling from a phone box. Your secretary is up a tree. And she can’t get down again.”
“Oh, thank you very much,” Tibble said.
“You’re welcome.”
Too late he shouted, “Which tree?” But she’d already hung up.
“Here we go again!” Tibble cried, “What a pain!” And he ran down to the street.
Green Square first, that was where most of the trees were.
When he arrived, he saw where she was at once. There was a large group of people gathered round. It wasn’t the same tree as last time, it was another one that was even taller. Bibi was there too because school had just finished for the day.
“A dog chased her,” Bibi said.
“Uh-huh,” sighed Tibble. He wasn’t surprised. “How do we get her back down again?”
“The fishmonger’s already at it,” Bibi said. “He’s up in the tree. He’s helping her down.”
Amid great interest, the fishmonger helped Minou down through the branches. First onto the roof of the greengrocer’s van, then down onto the street.
“Thank you very much,” she said, sniffing at his sleeve one last time. “Oh, my basket must be here somewhere.”
Tibble picked it up. There were biscuits and bread in it and a little bit of fish.
“We have to do something about it,” Tibble said when they were back home. “Things really can’t go on like this, Miss Minou.”
She was sitting in the corner looking very repentant.
“It was the same dog again,” she said. “He’s called Mars.”
“It’s not just getting stuck in trees,” Tibble said. “It’s all these cattish traits… you have to stop acting like that.”
“Being rescued by the fishmonger was lovely,” Minou said wistfully.
That annoyed Tibble even more, but before he could say anything she blurted, “Oh, yeah, I heard some news too while I was out.” She told him about the expansion of the perfume factory. It calmed him down a little; he had something new to write about.