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Source ISBN: 9780008165772

Version: 2018-01-08

For Hazel and Lolly

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Map

Chapter 1. A Room of Her Own

Chapter 2. Shells

Chapter 3. A Spark

Chapter 4. What Are Villages For?

Chapter 5. Ducklings In a Row

Chapter 6. In for a Splash

Chapter 7. In For a Soak

Chapter 8. Here to Stay

Keep Reading …

About the Author

Also by Sarah Lean

About the Publisher

Map

It was spring, and Tiger Days was visiting her grandmother, May Days, for the school holidays. May Days used to live in Africa, and Tiger had met her for the first time a year ago when she moved back to England to live at Willowgate House. Since then, Tiger loved staying with her grandmother, exploring the great gardens and wildlife, and becoming more and more adventurous each time. Tiger had made friends with a boy called Tom and his grandfather, Grumps, who lived next door. She was disappointed to discover that this time they were away on holiday at the seaside, but she was looking forward to having May Days and Holly the cat all to herself.

While Willowgate House was being fixed up, Tiger and May Days had slept in the garden in a tent. Over winter, rather than move into one of the finished bedrooms, May Days had simply pitched the tent inside the big kitchen, and she was still sleeping there now.

Tiger, Holly and May Days spent their first day together wandering the gardens to see what wildlife they could find. Birds were in the sky, fish were in the river, squirrels leapt between budding trees and a hedgehog shuffled in the undergrowth.

Tiger and her grandmother were full of wonder, chatting about what they had seen while they grilled sausages for tea on a campfire under the willow tree. They had gone to bed full and contented, listening to an owl hooting and bats squeaking through the open kitchen window.

“Nobody would know so many things live in the garden unless they looked and listened like we do,” said Tiger.

“The garden is always full of life,” said May Days, yawning. “And your grandmother is full of tiredness. Time for sleep. Night, night.” And she turned out the lamp.

The next morning, Tiger and Holly were still snuggled into the sleeping bag – inside the tent, inside the house! – wondering what they would all do today, when May Days, who was already up and about, poked her head back into the tent.

“Come outside. There’s something I want to show you,” she said.

Tiger, still wearing her striped tiger-print pyjamas, and Holly, as always, wearing a soft white fur coat, followed May Days out on to the front porch. She pointed to where the wall joined the roof. It looked as if some roughly made clay bowls had been stuck in the corners. Under the eaves of the main roof were lots more bowl shapes and also one in the top corner of the outside toilet.

“What are they?” asked Tiger.

“Swallow nests,” said May Days, smiling. “One of my favourite birds.”

“But where are the swallows?” said Tiger, as the nests were empty.

“Swallows come here for the spring and summer,” said May Days. “They find their way back to the same place every year, tidy up their old nest, lay their eggs and then raise new chicks. Come on, I’ll show you what they look like.”

They went back to the kitchen and sat at the table to look up swallows in the wildlife book. The little birds had tails like streamers, black coats and bold white chests.

Tiger read:

Small flocks of swallows gather together and prepare to migrate. They fly over 8,000 kilometres from Africa to the UK, arriving in April.

“But how can they fly so far when they’re so small?” said Tiger, amazed.

“Because they are all together to support each other,” said May Days, “and they must be very determined to raise their chicks in the best place.”

“But why don’t they just stay here all the time?”

“It’s far too cold in the winter and there’s nothing for them to eat,” said May Days, looking out of the window. “They would have left Africa about six weeks ago. I thought they’d be here by now.”

May Days had a few jobs to do around the house, so she left Tiger in the kitchen to get dressed. Tiger was thinking about the little birds who worked hard each year to restore their old homes so they could move back into them. Then she started thinking about Willowgate.

“This is very silly,” Tiger said to Holly, who pricked up her ears and sat looking at Tiger with wise eyes. “Why doesn’t May Days move into the house properly now all the repairs are done?”

It didn’t make sense that they were still sleeping in a tent when there was a big empty house that seemed to be waiting for them.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Holly?” The cat tilted her head to the side as if waiting for Tiger to go on. “Maybe the house isn’t as finished as we think it is. We’d better go and find out.”

Tiger pulled on her T-shirt and Holly stood up beside her, ready to investigate.

“We’ll have to look around the house as carefully as we did in the garden yesterday, and then maybe we’ll be able to see what we’re waiting for.”

They started with the kitchen, looking up and down and around. This was the only room they had used properly right from the start, so there wasn’t much to discover here. Outside the kitchen was a tall, empty hall, with two rooms either side. One was small and empty. The other was much larger and led into the conservatory. All the walls had been plastered smooth and painted white, the cobwebs dusted away. Holly’s paws didn’t make a sound, but Tiger’s footsteps echoed off the bare floorboards, making the house sound very empty.

“Where’s all May Days’s furniture and carpets and pictures, Holly?” said Tiger.

In the conservatory, May Days grew tropical flowers in pots, tall and bushy, climbing up supports and across the glass roof. When the flowers bloomed, it was the only colourful room in the house.

“I expect all these flowers grow in Africa too,” Tiger said to Holly, thinking of how long May Days had lived in Africa and the things she must have got used to seeing.

With their eyes alert for any movement, just like they had been in the garden the previous day, they spotted a woodlouse crawling past one of the pots. Tiger crouched down and held out a finger to it. The woodlouse wiggled its antennae and then climbed on.

“It must feel like a huge jungle in here to a woodlouse,” said Tiger as the cat gave it a good sniff. Tiger let the woodlouse ripple off her finger and back on to the floor. She decided to keep it company for a while in case it felt lonely.

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