The Library Cat

by Philip Ardagh

  Beancat jumped up on to a nearby table to take a closer look. Then she ambled up a pile of large bound copies of old local newspapers.

  She stood on her back legs and stretched right up, her two front paws against the wall; her nose just reached the bottom quarter of the old, old photo.

  Not only was the photo itself very old, the glass and the frame were both yellowed with age.

  She studied what she could of the picture very closely indeed. There was no doubt about it. The photograph had been taken in the foyer. It looked very different, and there was the plaque about Lady Francis Mulholland on the wall, but it was, without question, the foyer of Gothport Library.

  In the picture a woman was standing to the side of the plaque, her head turned towards it. She was wearing a long dress and a funny hat with thin pointy feathers sticking out of it. To the other side of the plaque stood a man with a top hat and an enormous beard. Because the photo was so old and the beard so big, the man looked more beard than anything else.

  There was some writing on a white strip below the photo, but the ink had faded over the years, the glass was yellowing and, truth be told, Furry Purry Beancat found it hard enough reading printed letters. Handwriting was far harder.

  Reg would be here soon and the others soon after, so Beancat jumped down and ambled over to the staffroom to greet him on arrival.

  The talk in the staffroom that morning, when Marcia, ginger-haired Lizzie and Dave had arrived, was all about the meeting in the Scout hut.

  ‘That Mayor Haycroft was so horrible,’ said Dave.

  ‘You won’t ’ear no argument from me,’ said Marcia, who was usually nice about everyone.

  Furry Purry Beancat sat on Reg’s lap. She knew now that the dark blue suit he wore every day was part of his caretaker’s uniform. She thought he looked VERY SMART and he always brushed his trousers with a clothes brush he hung on the back of his office door after Furry Purry Beancat had left him covered in fur! She loved sitting on his lap and he loved having her there. As he stroked her, he would sometimes talk about Jean who, she soon realized, must have been Reg’s wife who had died some years before. She sensed his love and sadness. Furry Purry Beancat was glad that she was there to give him LOTS of love. But that morning all the talk was of how to try to save the library.

  Later, the schoolchildren arrived and Beancat leapt into action. She needed to find out more about that plaque. She let herself be petted and greeted by all the children, but it was Timmy she was waiting to see.

  Hello, Furry Purry Beancat, he said in her mind.

  Good morning, Timmy! said Beancat. I need your help. It’s important.

  Of course, said Timmy excitedly. What can I do? He was stroking her as they spoke.

  I need you to ask your teacher what ‘in perpetuity’ means.

  Perp-e-tu-ity?

  That’s it, said Beancat.

  Of course, said Timmy. He gave Beancat a scratch between the ears, stood up and turned to Jenny, his one-to-one helper who spoke sign language with her hands.

  He spelled out ‘perpetuity’ with his hands letter by letter, and then asked her what it meant.

  Jenny replied quickly, her fingers moving at speed.

  Timmy crouched back down and stroked Furry Purry Beancat under the chin. She did her VERY best to take in what Timmy was saying, but was more than a little distracted by the under-the-chin scratching, which was BLISSSSSSSSSSS! She almost went into an overdrive of purring.

  Jenny says that ‘in perpetuity’ means forever, he told her.

  Forever? Beancat echoed, her purr calming down as she started to consider what that meant. Now THAT, Timmy, is very interesting. Thank you.

  If the inscription on the plaque shown in the photograph, and now Reg’s room, meant what Furry Purry Beancat thought it meant, this could change EVERYTHING. She would have to bring it to everyone’s attention!

  Now, Furry Purry Beancat was very good at making plans – you will know that from Operation Magic Bean – but sometimes the quickest way to get a result, especially when time is running out, is to ACT QUICKLY. And this is how Operation Crash Bang Wallop came into being.

  She had gathered all the information she required and now she had to share it. She looked around the library.

  Mr Pasternak sat in his usual place at the corner desk, writing to everyone he could think of who might be able to help in the fight to save the library.

  Yusuf was sitting in the newspaper section but ignoring the newspapers. He was writing some very large letters on a very large square of cardboard.

  The Reminiscence Group were sitting round their usual table but, instead of talking about sherbet dips and ration books, they were having a council of war against the new leisure centre with its unstaffed ‘library corner’.

  Joan was poring over bus timetables and working out distances with Marcia at the library counter, while Reenie had her yellow feather duster out and was doing the tops of the doors.

  It was time to act. Suddenly, and without warning, Beancat put Operation Crash Bang Wallop into action. She dashed like a fireball of furry-purriness across the library, into the local history section, on to the table, on to the local newspapers and LAUNCHED herself up at the old photo.

  She hit it at speed and clung on to the frame for dear life… dislodging it from the wall.

  It fell with an almighty CRASH, the frame breaking into two Ls and the glass shattering into jagged pieces. Fortunately, Beancat jumped clear in time, avoiding injury.

  People dashed from all corners of the library to see what had happened.

  Beancat just sat there, half a metre from the damage, licking her front paws as though she didn’t have a care in the world. Little did anyone realize that what looked like chaos and mayhem was the result of a carefully laid plan!

  ‘What’ve you done, Furry?’ asked Marcia in surprise.

  CHAPTER 8 HELP ACROSS THE YEARS

  While Reg (wearing a pair of tough work gloves) was carefully picking up the larger pieces of yellowed glass off the floor and putting them into a metal bin, Marcia was retrieving the photograph. She held one corner and lifted it carefully, shaking it so that any smaller pieces of glass might fall off.

  ‘What got into you, girl?’ she asked Beancat.

  ‘You haven’t behaved like that since you were a kitten,’ said Reg, ‘when you used to go crazy and shoot up the curtains!’

  Furry Purry Beancat sat a short distance away, but she wasn’t purring. It’s very nice of you not to be annoyed with me, she thought. But I do wish you’d LOOK AT THE PHOTOGRAPH.

  When planning Operation Crash Bang Wallop, Furry Purry Beancat had thought of trying to get Timmy to show them the photo. Or having Gregory and Daphne hang down in front of it so that Reenie might try brushing them away and see what was in the picture. But, in the end, she had decided on the direct approach: her SMASHING idea!

  ‘Is the picture damaged?’ asked Reg.

  ‘No, it seems fine,’ said Marcia, looking at it properly for the first time. ‘In fact, this old photo is in much better condition than I imagined. It must have been the glass that made it look so faded.’

  ‘You can even read the writing on that plaque between those two people,’ said Reg, peering over her shoulder. He pointed and read it out loud.

  Marcia looked at Reg.

  Reg looked at Marcia.

  Furry Purry Beancat watched them both and began to purr.

  Marcia hurried over to the desk where Mr Pasternak was working. She lay the huge photo over the papers in front of him. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr Pasternak,’ she said. ‘No. That’s not true. I’m not sorry. Would you read this please?’ She pointed.

  He read, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

  ‘ “In perpetuity” means forever, am I right?’ said Marcia. ‘So this is saying that Lady Mulholland – whoever she was and God bless her soul – gave this library to the town FOREVER?’

  ‘I think it is much better than that,’ sa
id Mr Pasternak in his thick accent. ‘There will have been deeds and a contract and in law “in perpetuity” means even beyond the contract.’

  ‘So even if the councils somehow managed to change the contract or the deeds, they can’t alter the fact that this building has to remain a free public library?’

  ‘Precisely.’

  Marcia grabbed both sides of Mr Pasternak’s head and kissed the top of it. ‘I’m s-s-so sorry!’ she said, as she realized what she’d just done. ‘I don’t know what came over me!’

  ‘That’s quite all right!’ said the elderly gentleman. ‘We have much to celebrate!’

  Hearing loud, happy voices, Yusuf came over to see what all the excitement was about. They told him.

  ‘You have local newspapers going back many years, do you not?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘Almost two hundred years,’ said Lizzie, who’d now joined the group. ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, surely such a splendid event as this good lady giving the townsfolk a new library would be recorded in the newspaper?’

  ‘Of course!’ said Marcia, a chuckle rising in her throat. ‘But what year is MDCCCLXVIII?’

  ‘That is easy,’ said Yusuf. ‘It is 1868.’

  ‘What a team!’ said Marcia happily. ‘We’ll save this library yet.’

  Beancat slipped away to the staff area and to Reg’s room to report the latest to Gregory and Daphne.

  ‘It worked!’ she told them. ‘I think the library WILL be saved.’

  ‘There’s still plenty of time for something to go terribly wrong,’ said Gregory and, although the words were just the sort of gloomy thing he would say, he sounded a little half-hearted, as if he couldn’t hide just how pleased he really was.

  ‘Quiet, you!’ said Daphne, dropping in from above.

  ‘How are your eggs?’ asked Beancat.

  ‘Fine thanks, Furry. There’s nothing to do now. They’ll hatch when they’re good and ready.’

  ‘Which still leaves the problem of Reenie and the first Thursday of NEXT month,’ said Gregory. The library may be saved, but we could still be goners. Dead. Departed. No more.’

  Daphne skedaddled over to her husband. ‘Beancat told me you did a very brave thing last night, frightening off that dreadful Mayor Haycroft, and I know you will do all you can to protect our children.’

  If spiders could blush, that’s what Gregory would be doing right now, thought Beancat.

  * * *

  The rest of the morning was a flurry of activity. Sure enough, amongst the bound copies of the Gothport Chronicle in the local history section, Yusuf found the 9 July 1868 edition, which contained a very interesting article about Lady Mulholland bequeathing the library to the town at its grand opening.

  There was much backslapping and whoops of excitement and triumph and joy!

  The disliker of cats, Dave, stared at Furry Purry Beancat, who was sitting on an oak chair nearby.

  ‘Do you know,’ he said to no one in particular, ‘I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Furry had deliberately knocked that painting off the wall to make us look at it…’

  Marcia laughed. ‘That would be something, wouldn’t it?’ she said. ‘LIBRARY SAVED BY INCREDIBLE READING CAT!’

  ‘Mistress Beancat is certainly a most excellent cat,’ said Yusuf, looking up from the newspaper spread out before him. ‘Which reminds me. I received this today.’

  From his pocket he produced a blue envelope and from the envelope he pulled out a photograph of a beautiful cat standing in the rubble of a building. ‘This is my Iishraq. She is alive and well, as is my cousin Abida who cares for her.’

  Furry Purry Beancat jumped up on to his lap and rested her chin on the edge of the table, her nose almost touching the glossy picture.

  She’s your Sunshine, she purred.

  The happy moment was interrupted by Reenie running towards them. ‘You’re not going to believe it. You are NOT going to believe it.’

  ‘What? What is it? You okay, Reenie?’ asked Marcia.

  ‘I am fine. Tickety-boo! Plump currant! On this very day that Furry has led us to the photograph of that library-saving plaque, a spider has just led me to the plaque itself!’

  ‘Are you sure you haven’t been affected by cleaning-fluid fumes?’ joked Lizzie.

  ‘It’s true!’ said Reenie, her Scottish accent coming through loud and strong. ‘It turns out that the plaque has been here all this time under all that junk in Reg’s room! I was chasing a couple of spiders across the floor with my feather duster and they led me right to it. I wouldn’t even have recognized it if I hadn’t just seen it in that photo.’

  ‘What a day of happy chances!’ said Mr Pasternak.

  ‘Chances?’ said Reenie indignantly, rubbing the enamel Scottish thistle pinned to her housecoat. ‘I’ll have you know that a spider plays a very important part in my people’s history, giving Robert the Bruce the inspiration to carry on his fight and by protecting him from his enemies!’

  ‘You’ve changed your tune!’ Reg laughed. ‘You’ve been having a constant battle with spiders and their webs over the years and suddenly they’re heroic Scottish beasties!’ He tickled Furry Purry Beancat’s furry, purry chin.

  ‘Yes, well, maybe I should have remembered my Scottish heritage!’ said Reenie. ‘I think those spiders wanted to save this library as much as we did! I’ll keep this place clear of cobwebs but, from now on, all spiders are welcome!’

  ‘You daft thing!’ said Reg kindly. He looked down at Furry Purry Beancat on his lap. ‘If anyone saved this library it was my Beancat… Now, come on, let’s go and get that plaque.’

  * * *

  That evening, when the library was closed and the last of the sun cast patterns of light on to the carpet between the bookstacks, Furry Purry Beancat and her two eight-legged friends looked back at their event-filled day.

  ‘You do realize that you saved the library, Furry,’ said Daphne.

  ‘Not just me,’ she said. ‘It was a team effort. And you two saved your children – all the spiders in the library – from bug spray.’

  ‘We did, didn’t we?’ said Gregory. ‘Of course, I knew about Robert the Spruce all along and that Reenie is Scottish and—’

  ‘Nice try, husband!’ said Daphne, ‘but no, you didn’t. And, anyway, it’s Robert the Bruce not Spruce.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Gregory, ‘but if I had known about it…’

  ‘You’re welcome in the children’s library any time,’ said a small voice that Beancat recognized at once. ‘All of you.’

  ‘Thank you, Graham,’ she said.

  Furry Purry Beancat purred and padded off, leaving them to it. She had a feeling her work here was done.

  She found a patch of sunlight, followed her tail round in a circle three times, then settled herself down in a furry ball of purry cat. She yawned, lowered her head to the ground and pulled her beautiful, fluffy tail in front of her little pink nose.

  Where will I wake up next? she wondered, slowly closing her big green eyes and drifting off to sleep…

  More from this Series

  The Witch's Cat

  Book 4

  The Pirate Captain's Cat

  Book 1

  The Railway Cat

  Book 2

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR AND ILLUSTRATOR

  Roald Dahl-Funny-Prize-winning author PHILIP ARDAGH has been published for around thirty years, written more than 100 titles and been translated into forty languages. Books range from his bestselling and international award-winning Eddie Dickens adventures – celebrating twenty years in 2020 – to his prize-winning Grubtown Tales, the Grunt series, illustrated by Axel Scheffler, and High in the Clouds, a collaboration with Sir Paul McCartney, currently being developed as a film by Netflix.

  www.SimonandSchuster.co.uk/Authors/Philip-Ardagh

  ROB BIDDULPH is a bestselling and multi award-winning author/illustrator and was the official World Book Day Illustrator for 2020. His first picture book, Blown Away, won the Waterstone
s Children’s Book Prize in 2015. His second book, GRRRRR! was nominated for the CILIP Greenaway Medal and the IBW Children’s Picture Book of the Year in 2016.

  www.SimonandSchuster.co.uk/Authors/Rob-Biddulph

  PHILIP ARDAGH didn’t have a pet as a child, except when looking after the class tadpole one weekend. He was in his twenties when he got his very first pet, a long-haired tabby-and-white cat called Beany. ‘I loved her to bits!’ he said. ‘She was very furry and very purry!’ Beany lived into her eighteenth year and, in creaky old age, sat with Philip in his study as he wrote. One day, it occurred to him that – if he slightly skewed the meaning of a cat having nine lives – she could have eight other exciting lives… and the idea of THE NINE LIVES OF FURRY PURRY BEANCAT was born.

  First published in Great Britain in 2021 by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd

  Text copyright © 2021 Philip Ardagh

  Illustrations copyright © 2021 Rob Biddulph

  This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.

  No reproduction without permission.

  All rights reserved.

  The rights of Philip Ardagh and Rob Biddulph to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work respectively has been asserted by them in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Design and Patent Act, 1988.

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  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.