Michael Morpurgo - Favourite Cat Stories - The Amazing Story of Adolphus Tips, Kaspar and The Butterfly Lion

This is the first time I’ve felt like writing in my diary for days. Mum was right, I did catch a chill that day when we all went out looking for Tips, and it did go to my chest. Mum told me I had a temperature of 104 for nearly a week and the doctor had to be called because I became delirious. That sounds like it means I was just happy – I certainly was not. It meant I was out of my head. And I must have been because I remember very little. I only remember bits of the last few days. I remember Barry coming in after school and telling me what the new school in Kingsbridge was like and giving me get-well cards from Mrs Blumfeld and the class. I remember waking up to see Grandfather and Mum sitting in the chair watching me, or just sitting there sleeping. And from time to time I could hear the murmur of voices downstairs and Uncle George blowing his nose like a foghorn.

I’m much better now, but Mum says I’ve got to stay inside for at least another week. Doctor’s orders, she says, but I think they’re just her orders. She always gets very fierce and strict with me when I’m ill. She’s been feeding me soup and then sitting and watching me, just to make sure I finish it. She makes me eat stewed apple every day and I have to drink lots of warm milk with honey in it. She knows I hate milk. But now she’s got the perfect excuse to make me drink it. “It’ll build up your strength, Lily,” she says. “Drink it.” And she always stays until I do.

As for Tips, there’s still no sign of her. No one has been back to look for her, of course. But I haven’t given up. I still keep hoping she’s all right, that one day she’ll come and find us. She’s a good hunter, she can take care of herself. She knows warm places to go. I try to hope and believe Adie will find her somehow. But then when I think about it again I know he won’t. I keep thinking of her lying dead in some ditch. I try not to think like that. I try so hard. Soon as I’m better, I’m going to go looking for her. I promised myself I would, and I will.

Mum came up today and read me a letter from Dad. It’s such a long time since I saw him I find it difficult to see his face in my head any more. I tried to hear his voice as she was reading the letter, but I couldn’t. He says they had corned beef and tinned potatoes for Christmas lunch, and they wore paper hats made out of newspaper, sang Christmas carols and thought of home. He sounded so sad and far away. When Mum finished reading she was sad too. I could tell she wanted to cry but she wouldn’t let herself.

I’ve been planning it for days, working it all out and screwing up my courage to do it. And today I did it. But it didn’t work out at all like I had planned.

I’m getting really good at telling lies. I told Mum I just wanted to go out for some fresh air, that I was fed up with being cooped up. I nagged and nagged and finally Mum gave in, but only because it was a nice, sunshiney day, she said. She wrapped me up as if I was going out into the Arctic – gloves, hat, scarf, coat, the lot – and she told me to keep out of the wind, and I had to promise her I’d be back inside an hour. I promised…with my fingers crossed.

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