Morning Rain (part 1)

She woke up to the sound of raindrops pitter-pattering on her bedroom window above her pillow. Opening her eyes she wrapped her quilt tight around her shoulders and knelt on the bed. Her elbows felt the cold dew on the window sill, and drawing the curtains slightly apart she peered outside. The window pane was sprinkled with glass-like beads, each one descending sluggishly, offering a unique glimpse of the world outside before being hastily replaced by a freshly splattered droplet. Unlike most children her age, Phoebe loved rain.

The gray sky glowed almost fluorescently, and looking downwards Phoebe took in Vallance Street with an expression of awe. The usually dull looking houses had been washed, and their red brick glistened afresh; the green of the front gardens had now darkened; the soil could finally breathe again and fill the street with its earthy fragrance. Phoebe noticed Ms. Lavinia of number 7 across the road. She was standing behind her front door which was slightly ajar, trying to work out which was the safest route to her car in order to not get terribly soaked. Old Mr. and Mrs. Spencer of number 3 walked slowly down their porch to their car shielded by a big black umbrella. Mr. Spencer waited patiently until his wife got safely into the passenger seat. Closing the door shut he hopped rather wistfully to the other side, waited for the car to warm up, and off they went. Phoebe’s eyes followed them until they turned round the bend at the end of the street.

She suddenly heard the front door unlock downstairs and looking down into her front garden she saw her father making his way to the car. Pulling the curtains slightly more together so as not to be seen, Phoebe watched curiously. Father walked out to the middle of the garden and stood still in the rain for a few minutes, only moving to turn up the collar of his long black coat. He didn’t seem to mind getting wet much. Turning to the car, Father looked straight up at his daughter’s window, smiled knowingly and winked. Then off he went to work.

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The rain had quietened down and Phoebe felt that this would be a good excuse to get outside the house and go for a walk. She put on her mack and wellies, and headed to the door. Should I let Mother know? Looking up the staircase she considered this for a moment, but decided on the contrary. Best leave Mother rest.

The air outside felt fresh and cool, and everything was so still and silent. Closing the gate behind her she made her way to the park, jumping from puddle to puddle as if they were the only platforms that could save her from falling down into an imaginary abyss. She reached the maple tree rooted in no. 24’s front garden. It stretched out over the pavement providing a momentary shelter. Phoebe looked up into its twisted branches and felt the lingering morning raindrops drip on her face. She looked over the gate to make sure Mr. Grog wasn’t anywhere to be seen, then jumped gingerly up onto his front wall and pulled one of the branches close to her to cut off a few of its blazing amber leaves. The rain had made the leaves sparkle just as though they were precious jewels, and Phoebe felt a sudden flash of guilt. Was she taking more from Mr. Grog than just a bunch of leaves?

She heard a raspy “Miaooowww!” in the branches above her, and then saw a set of dark blue accusatory eyes. A black cat appeard from the thickness of the branches and jumped down nearer to her. “Miaaooww!” it repeated, as if to clarify that it was indeed addressing Phoebe. “What?” she retorted. The black cat continued to stare at her and at the glistening leaves in her hand. “Well even if you wanted to, there’s nothing you can do about it”, said Phoebe matter-of-factly. However despite her apparent self-assurance Phoebe had to admit that the cat had the upper hand in this scenario. After all this seemed to be the cat’s tree, and for all Phoebe knew the black cat could well infact do something about it. Feeling slightly uncomfortable Phoebe jumped down off the wall and continued her walk. She turned to utter a meek “Sorry ...”, but the black cat had already climbed back up to its higher position in the tree, and all Phoebe could see of it was its skinny black tail disappearing into the dense branches.