The Cat Who Liked Rain

‘I haven’t the strength to look at any more brown cats,’ said Beatrice.

‘I’ll go,’ said Lukas, leaving the kitchen.

When he opened the door he found a man standing there with a big bag hanging over one of his shoulders. Lukas wondered if the man had a cat hidden inside it.

‘Is this where you can get a reward of a million kronor if you find a missing cat?’ the man asked.

‘Yes,’ said Lukas.

The man laughed as he responded.

‘Can a cat really be worth as much as that?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ said Lukas. ‘Night is worth that much.’

‘Night?’

‘My cat is called Night.’

Beatrice arrived at that point.

‘It’s a misunderstanding, of course,’ she said. ‘We don’t have a million to pay as a reward.’

‘I’m a journalist,’ said the man. ‘I thought I’d write something in the newspaper about this cat that’s worth a million kronor.’

Beatrice was horrified.

‘You can’t do that,’ she said. ‘We’ve had people coming here all morning, bringing cats of every description you can think of. There’ll be even more if you write about it in the newspaper. They might even come with other animals as well. Dogs and chickens and goodness only knows what else...’

‘It would be great if there was something in the paper about it,’ interrupted Lukas. ‘Especially if there was a photograph of Night as well. Then lots of people will see him. Maybe one of the readers will recognise him? By the way, I have a million in toy money. I can use that to pay the reward.’

‘Lukas,’ said Beatrice, ‘stop talking about money.’

But the journalist thought it would be a brilliant idea to write about Lukas and his cat, even if all that about such a big reward wasn’t really true.

‘I understand that you are so fond of your cat,’ he said. ‘I shall write about that. People like reading in the newspaper about people who are so fond of their missing pets.’

And so a photograph of Night appeared in the newspaper. Axel had taken it in the summer, when Night had been lying on Lukas’s knee outside the caravan. The journalist wrote about Lukas, where he lived, and that he hoped somebody would soon find his Night.

But there was still no sign of Night.

Even so, Lukas could think about nothing else. He thought about how Night would be hungry and wet and cold, he thought about nasty people throwing stones at him or pulling his tail. He thought so hard about Night that he almost turned into a cat himself. It was as if he had acquired black fur and pointed ears. But most of all, he thought that the best way of protecting Night was for him to think about the cat all the time. As long as Night was there inside Lukas’s head, he wouldn’t be in danger.

When he’d gone to bed that night, and Beatrice had tucked him in, Lukas made up his mind once again that he would have to run away. He couldn’t wait any longer, it would have to happen now.

But at the same time, he also thought of something else.

The currant bush.

The big, wild blackcurrant bush growing just outside the fence of Lukas’s garden.

The currant bush where Night had so much liked to curl up when it was warm, and when he wanted to be left in peace and sleep. There was something special about that currant bush. It was growing all on its own, with no other bushes anywhere near. Axel had often said it ought to be cut down. But when Lukas asked why, his dad hadn’t been able to give him an answer. It was as if currant bushes had to grow inside fences. They weren’t allowed to be wild. It seemed to Lukas that it was a bit like dogs having to wear collars. A fence was a sort of collar that currant bushes had to have.

Night had liked that wild currant bush so very much. Lukas sometimes thought that what grew there in the early autumn was really troll black-currants. They were very special berries, with a secret.

If you ate them, you could see straight into the troll world without needing to shut your eyes first.

Lukas stayed in bed, thinking about that bush. Needless to say, that was where he ought to start looking for Night.

Why hadn’t he realised that sooner!

Of course he would put Night’s special food saucer there, the one with the blue hoop round it, with a crack at one point on the edge. That saucer would be bound to entice Night back again.

He felt that he needed to act right away. But when he slid out of bed and tiptoed to the door, he could hear that his parents were still up. They were watching some television programme or other. He could hear his father yawning. Lukas went back to bed. He would have to wait until they’d gone to bed and fallen asleep. Then he would be able to sneak out of the house with the saucer.

Eventually, everything fell silent. Lukas put some clothes on over the top of his pyjamas. Then he tiptoed into the kitchen and carefully opened the fridge. He almost burst into tears when he saw the open tin of cat food standing there on its own, behind a pack of butter. It seemed to him that what he was looking at was poor, abandoned Night, not a can of cat food with no lid.

He put everything that was left onto the saucer.