Most people would think it would be hard to sneak out of a palace and creep off to meet a witch to buy a magical potion when the king, who lived in the castle, hated witches and magic, but it was really quite easy.

Or at least it was easy if you were as good at sneaking around as Margery.

The witch in question was the same witch who lived in a lovely gingerbread cottage, not far from Hansel’s house, and her name was Veronica. She knew lots of people liked to tell stories about witches, about how they’re mean and they wear black all the time and they’re forever cooking children, but, other than enjoying a very stylish black ensemble from time to time, Veronica wasn’t anything like those kinds of witches. For starters, she was a vegan.

‘Knock-knock!’ Margery called as she opened the door to the witch’s cottage and let herself in. They had known each other for years, but you wouldn’t exactly call them friends. Mostly because Margery didn’t really have any friends.

‘Hello,’ Veronica replied, waving to Cinders’s stepmother from behind her cauldron where she was stirring up something that smelled delicious, like caramel and cocoa and the first bite of a birthday cake. ‘What can I do for you today?’

Veronica was not entirely thrilled to see Margery in her home. She only came to visit when she wanted something.

‘It’s my poor, dear husband,’ Margery said, swooning on to the settee in the middle of the living room. Very comfy, she noted, wondering whether or not she should buy the same one for her new, soon-to-be-permanent quarters at the palace. ‘I’m sure you’ve heard the news?’

Veronica nodded. She had heard the news, but she was having trouble believing it. She’d known Cinders ever since she was a little girl and yes, she’d been known to get into the occasional scrape now and then but, for the most part, she was an outstanding girl. Always kind and polite and ready to help out, and very often carrying snacks. The thought that she might have been running round the kingdom, casting evil spells on people, seemed very unlikely to Veronica. While she preferred the term ‘herbal mixologist’ to ‘witch’, she did have an idea of how hard it was to cast spells, especially evil ones. Cinders didn’t have the heart for it.

‘Do you want me to see if I can bring Cinders home?’

‘Cripes, no!’ Margery frowned. ‘I need more of your sleeping draught, for her father. He’s been in a terrible state ever since she ran away, and it’s the only thing that helps him get any rest.’

Veronica raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow. She was a very well turned-out woman.

‘You need more?’ she asked cautiously. ‘But I gave you a month’s supply just last week. How much is he taking?’

Margery pursed her lips. She needed to play this one carefully. As far as anyone else was concerned, Cinders’s father had fallen into a deep sleep ever since his daughter went missing. No one needed to know she had been slipping him a sleeping potion to keep him that way.

‘I’m following your instructions to the letter,’ she replied in a haughty tone. ‘Although, I must confess, I might have taken a smidgen myself.’

But Veronica still didn’t look convinced.

‘And maybe my girls have popped a drop or two into their bedtime hot chocolate,’ Margery added.

‘Even so,’ Veronica said, ‘you’ve got through it awfully quickly, Margery. One spoonful of that potion is enough to put an elephant to sleep for a year.’

Margery sat up on the sofa and fixed her sort-of friend with a very stern glare.

‘It’s a very nice home you’ve got here,’ she said, standing up and walking round the room, taking in all of Veronica’s lovely things. ‘You have heard the king is cracking down on all things magical, I suppose? It would be such a shame if he sent a search party here. They’re not terribly careful with people’s belongings.’

Veronica set down her ladle, the cauldron bubbling before her.

‘And breaking your things is probably the best-case scenario,’ Margery went on, picking up a particularly pretty vase. ‘I’d absolutely, positively hate it if they ended up throwing you in the dungeons.’

‘And why would the king send a search party here?’ Veronica asked quietly. ‘Is that a threat?’

The other woman turned round with a big smile on her face.

‘Yes,’ she said, sounding utterly relieved. ‘I’m so glad you caught on. I was worried I was being too subtle. Now, about the sleeping draught?’

With great reluctance, Veronica pulled a large blue glass bottle from the shelf behind her and handed it over.

‘Be very careful with it,’ she warned. ‘If you take too much, there’s a very good chance you’ll never wake up.’

Margery’s eyes glittered with happiness.

‘Is that so?’ she replied, smiling so broadly that Veronica could see all her teeth. ‘That’s very helpful to know.’

With one last dashing grin, she turned on her heel and walked towards the door.

‘Say,’ she called over her shoulder, one hand on the door handle. ‘Where did you get your settee?’

‘It’s one of a kind,’ Veronica replied. ‘Custom-made.’

‘Hmm,’ Margery said as she let herself out. ‘That’s a shame, isn’t it?’

The witch couldn’t quite work out whether it was a shame for her or a shame for Margery, but, either way, she was very, very worried.

‘Lovely to see you!’ Margery sang. ‘We must do this again soon … if you’re still here.’