Die fantastischen Abenteuer der Christmas Company Fantastic Adventures of the Christmas Company by Corinna Gieseler © 2019 Hummelburg Verlag, Imprint of Ravensburger Verlag GmbH, Ravensburg www.foreignrights-ravensburger.com © English sample translation by Anette Pollner 1 At 4 o’clock on the sixth of December, the Asmussen family’s rarely used landline rang. “Tock, tock, tock!” Freda’s fingers hammered into the display of her mobile like an overenthusiastic woodpecker. “Gotcha!” A triumphant fanfare blared out. Freda was supposed to do her homework, six worksheets on the subject of Animals in the North Sea Mudflats that had been lying around on her desk for two weeks. That’s what she had promised her mother, but in fact she had been playing the computer game Snowdrift for a while now. There, she was gathering fire wood and frost berries and hunting the small greedy lemmings who kept stealing her provisions. And just now she had reached the Crystal Palace of the Ice Queen for the very first time, an awesome record! Freda turned reluctantly away from her screen and listened. Who could that be? Mum was still working, her cluttered little gift shop was always crowded in the weeks before Christmas. And also, she would have most likely used the mobile. And grandpa and grandma had already dropped by with their Nikolaus gifts at lunch time. The unknown intruder was obviously very persistent. The phone kept jingling its annoying tune again and again. No chance, Freda had to interrupt her game. She grimaced and slid off the chair. “Alright, alright, I’m coming”, she shouted, sliding on her socks along the corridor. She brushed past a few boxes with leftover shop window decorations, banged her little toe against a basket with unsorted laundry and skidded around the curve towards the living room. She ripped the receiver roughly from the chest of drawers. But she had got there too late. Now, there was nothing but the beeping of the engaged signal. The caller had given up. “Crap! And for that I lost my wonderful score”, Freda muttered. She angrily dumped the receiver back into the charger. Somehow she didn’t feel like playing any more. But she definitely didn’t want to write down things about mudflat worms and jellyfish either. Instead she went into the kitchen to pinch another vanilla cookie from grandma’s generous Nikolaus offerings. And then she immediately forgot everything, because Mr Livingstone entered the room. This was quite a common effect Mr Livingstone had on those who met him. He was an unusually powerful black tomcat with amber eyes and a very distinct personality. A seasoned world traveller, as Freda’s father liked to say, and incredibly clever. An incredibly cheeky, flea ridden stray, claimed Frau von Potzendick from the second floor. The latter was true. Mr Livingstone regularly disappeared on his secret jaunts. But he always turned up again, although sometimes terribly skinny and exhausted, just like the famous English explorer of Africa, 1 of 49 Die fantastischen Abenteuer der Christmas Company Fantastic Adventures of the Christmas Company by Corinna Gieseler © 2019 Hummelburg Verlag, Imprint of Ravensburger Verlag GmbH, Ravensburg www.foreignrights-ravensburger.com © English sample translation by Anette Pollner David Livingstone a hundred years ago which was how he got his name. Mr Livingstone veered towards the fridge and meowed accusingly. “Forget it, I’ve fed you already”, Freda mumbled, her mouth full of cookie crumbs. “Let’s chill on the sofa for a bit.” She scooped the cat up and carried him into the living room. Surprisingly, and in stark contrast to the amount of decorations in the corridor, there was a conspicuous absence of Christmas adornments in this room. The only tribute to the season were two crooked strings of lights hanging from the white dormer windows. Their faint glow illuminated an unusual style of furnishing. It consisted of lacquered Asian furniture, grim wooden African masks, glazed ceramic bowls filled with glittering South Sea shells and rare musical instruments made from leather, fur and wood. The wooden model of a Viking ship with full blown red and white striped sails hung from the ceiling over the seating area. Freda flopped down with the cat on the wide leather sofa and snuggled into the cushions. But Mr Livingstone didn’t seem to be able to settle down today. He nervously balanced on Freda’s lap, his pointy ears turned towards the window panes lashed by the rain. The long note of a ship’s horn honked from the harbour. The sound of departure and farewell. “You should be glad that dad picked you up among the containers”, Freda said, stroking his soft fur. “Otherwise you’d be soaking wet right now, foraging in the garbage bins.” She shook a few cat hairs from her fingers. Yes, Captain Tom Asmussen had a heart for adventurers. He was travelling the world on a cruise ship after all. He rarely came home but when he did, he gave out scratchy kisses and presents, bursting with ideas for family trips. On days like that, Freda wished that it would go on forever. But it didn’t. The next travel date with his shipping company was a dead certainty, drawing Captain Asmussen back out to sea again like a giant magnet. In the past, Freda had assumed that was normal. Only on her ninth birthday (without her dad of course) she had started to wonder what this must be like for her mother. And now her big brother Liam was a student at the Maritime Academy too! Maybe that was why Freda preferred to hide inside her four safe walls. “Tell me, are you going to become one of those pale computer nerds with horn-rimmed glasses?” Liam had asked her recently, pinching Freda’s round bottom. “Better ask Santa to bring you a new bicycle or a kayak.” A boat, so that yet another member of the family could disappear at sea? No thank you! Freda gave the old globe on the window sill an angry shove. At that moment, and without warning, the cat sank his claws into her thighs. „Ouch!“ Freda screamed. She shot up from the sofa, grimacing with pain. “Hey, are you crazy?” Mr Livingstone landed on the floor, rudely kicked off. He immediately jumped to his feet again and raced across the room, towards the shelf where Freda’s dad kept his special mementoes. 2 of 49 Die fantastischen Abenteuer der Christmas Company Fantastic Adventures of the Christmas Company by Corinna Gieseler © 2019 Hummelburg Verlag, Imprint of Ravensburger Verlag GmbH, Ravensburg www.foreignrights-ravensburger.com © English sample translation by Anette Pollner Right next to pictures of his first big journey to Singapore, a valuable ship’s clock and a shiny brass barometer hung on the wall. The cat stopped in front of them, snarling. Freda didn’t want to risk another scratch, but Mr Livingstone was acting so weirdly that her curiosity drew her to him. And then she could see it too. Both devices were going crazy. The clock was running backwards, the needle of the barometer was swinging between high and low with breath-taking speed. She hesitated, waiting to see if the problem would maybe resolve itself on its own but no such luck. She knocked on the protective glass covers. Maybe the batteries just needed to be replaced. But before she could make a decision, the blasted land line on the chest of drawers rang again. This time, Freda answered on the second ring. „Hello, this is Frederizia Asmussen”, she said. The deep male voice sounded friendly but determined. “Good afternoon, I would like to speak to Mr Livingstone.” Freda gasped. „But... that’s not possible! Mr Livingstone is a… is my cat!” she stuttered after a confused pause. “Yes, yes, I know, let me speak to Mr Livingstone”, the caller urged her, suddenly indignant. Freda swallowed and wondered if this might be one of those hoax calls from the regional radio station. At the same time she could feel the phone being taken out of her hand. When she looked, she could see that it was – her cat! “Livingstone here, what’s up?” he said without looking at Freda. “What? When did that happen? Well of course he’s furious. And now?” For a long while, he listened attentively to a long report at the other end of the line. Eventually he just said: “You are lucky, I happen to know someone. Until later!” With the push of a paw, the phone was switched off. For a second, the girl and the cat looked each other in the eye. “What are you looking at”, said Mr Livingston, with a jaded air, flicking a tiny particle of dust from his chest. “Never seen a cat on the phone before?” “You … can speak…” Freda croaked. She could hear a ringing in her ears. “Correctly observed.” Mr Livingstone bounced off the chest of drawers and simply marched out of the room. Freda couldn’t think of anything clever to add. She trotted behind him like an obedient, dumb sheep. 3 of 49 Die fantastischen Abenteuer der Christmas Company Fantastic Adventures of the Christmas Company by Corinna Gieseler © 2019 Hummelburg Verlag, Imprint of Ravensburger Verlag GmbH, Ravensburg www.foreignrights-ravensburger.com © English sample translation by Anette Pollner In the corridor Mr Livingstone scratched at the front door, originally painted white a long time ago. “Do keep up please, we don’t have all day”, he ordered sternly. “Erm… what? Time for what?” Freda wanted to know as she automatically opened the door for him – after all, Mr Livingstone wandered about outside by himself every single day.