Five minutes later, I was standing in front of St Munchin’s, I could hear my heart banging like a drum inside my tatty black dress. But it was too late to turn back now. I slipped through the iron gates, skirted around the playground and peeped through some classroom windows.
After a while I spotted Mary. She was one of about ten girls playing indoor football. She was dribbling the ball; she was taking aim – she’d scored! All her friends jumped on her as a frizzy-haired teacher blew the whistle.
‘Well done, girls!’ she shouted.
I leaned my head against the window frame and sniffed. Why wasn’t I having fun with all these other kids, instead of pulling my hair out in a witch’s kitchen? It wasn’t fair.
‘Break-time!’ called the teacher. ‘Off you go!’
Most of the girls streamed out of the class – but Mary spotted me and waved. She came over to the classroom window and opened it.
‘Hi, Anna!’ she said. ‘You managed to get away, then?’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘It wasn’t easy. I had to knock out my aunts.’
Mary put both hands over her mouth and giggled. She still didn’t believe me.
I peeped over her shoulder at the teacher.
‘Won’t she mind you talking to me?’ I asked.
‘Who, Miss Roland?’ said Mary. ‘No. She’s cool – like most of the teachers here. The only one I’m a bit scared of is the head teacher, Mrs Winkle.’
Miss Roland came over to the window.
‘Well, Mary,’ she said. ‘Who’s your friend?’
‘This is Anna, Miss,’ said Mary. ‘She lives on my road.’ Mary shot me a sidelong glance. ‘She wants to join St Munchin’s.’
I chewed my lip and fiddled with the frayed sleeve of my black dress. I knew I wasn’t making much of a first impression.
‘Do you, Anna?’ said Miss Roland to me.
‘Yes, Miss,’ I said.
‘How very sensible,’ said Miss Roland. ‘But, somehow, I don’t think you’ll manage it by hanging around outside the window!’
She smiled, showing two deep dimples in her cheeks. I relaxed a little bit.
‘Why don’t you come in and have a look around,’ she said. ‘Mary can show you her classroom.’
‘Yes, Miss,’ said Mary. She beckoned me through a side door.
As we walked down the corridor, I noticed that the walls were covered with pictures. There were bright notices flapping on boards.
‘What are all those about?’ I asked.
‘They’re activities,’ said Mary. ‘There’s after-school swimming, choir, canoe lessons – there’s even classes for adults.’
We slipped into a classroom that said 4B on the door.
‘Ooooh!’ I whispered, and I looked around. The place was covered with books, coloured paints, maps and toys – everything that was missing from my life at Crag Road.
I could really picture myself here, sitting on top of one of the desks, laughing and talking with the other girls …
‘Hello, girls!’ boomed a voice behind us.
Mary and I both jumped out of our skin. We turned around. A large, white-haired lady in a blue suit was standing in the doorway.
Mary’s eyes opened wide.
‘Mrs Winkle!’ she whispered.
Mrs Winkle peered at me over tiny glasses. Her blue eyes seemed to bore into me, as if they could see into my soul. I got fidgety.
‘I think I’ll be off now,’ I said. ‘Things to do.’
‘Please don’t go, Anna,’ said Mrs Winkle. ‘It’s not every day we get young people turning up wanting to join our school!’
I looked at Mary.
‘How did she know that?’ I whispered. Mary shrugged.
Mrs Winkle smiled. Her eyes glinted again.
‘Not a lot goes on at St Munchin’s that I don’t know about,’ she said. She held the classroom door open. ‘Will you come to my office, please? Mary, you can go.’
I gulped. I wasn’t sure I was ready for this interview.
‘Bye, Mary,’ I mumbled, as I followed Mrs Winkle down the corridor.
‘Good luck,’ whispered Mary.
I trailed after Mrs Winkle down the long corridor.
‘I’m sorry, Miss,’ I said, as soon as I was inside Mrs Winkle’s office. ‘I didn’t mean to barge in and disturb everyone.’
‘I don’t blame you for wanting to join our school, dear,’ said Mrs Winkle, sitting down behind her desk. ‘But, you know, this is an unusual way to go about it.’
‘Trust me, Miss,’ I said. ‘I’m an unusual child.’
Mrs Winkle shook with silent laughter. She pulled a blue pen out of her bun and opened a register.
‘Let’s get some background,’ she said. ‘Where do you live, Anna?’
‘Number 13 Crag Road,’ I said.
Mrs Winkle scribbled down this information.
‘And with whom do you live?’
‘I live with Grizz and Wormella Mint, my two adopted aunts.’
‘Their occupation?’ she said.
This was the part I’d been dreading.
‘They’re witches, Miss,’ I said. ‘Or at least they think they are.’
Mrs Winkle’s head shot up and her eyes bored into me. Her smile had vanished and her face was deadly serious. I could suddenly see why Mary was a bit scared of her.
‘I beg your pardon?’ she said.
‘My aunts think they’re witches,’ I said in a small voice.
‘And do you think they’re witches, Anna?’ she said.
I shook my head.
‘Not likely,’ I said. ‘Or, at least, if they are, they’re the worst witches in the world.’
‘How would you know?’ said Mrs Winkle, her eyes glinting. ‘Do you know much about witchcraft?’
‘Well, no,’ I admitted. ‘But Grizz and Wormella do have the pointy hats and the cauldron and all that …’
Mrs Winkle stroked her chin.
‘Really?’ she said. ‘How very interesting.’
For some reason I couldn’t seem to stop talking.
‘And they do keep trying to do spells,’ I gabbled. ‘And none of them ever work. But I …’
I stopped and tried to get control of myself. After all, I didn’t know if I could trust this big woman with the deep, blue eyes.
‘Yes?’ she said.
‘Nothing,’ I whispered and looked at the floor.
Mrs Winkle didn’t question me further. She snapped the register shut and folded her hands.
‘When can you start?’
My heart leapt. Was she letting me join? Was I really going to have friends, and play football, and win prizes …
‘As soon as possible!’ I said.
‘I’ll need to talk to your aunts, of course,’ Mrs Winkle said.
My heart sank to my boots, but she smiled and handed me a piece of paper.
‘Take this home,’ she said. ‘And ask your aunts to sign it. I’ll make a home visit as soon as I can.’
The last of my hopes trickled away. Grizz would never sign this – she would rather be boiled in her own cauldron than allow me to go to school.
‘Please, Miss,’ I said. ‘Can’t I … can’t I sign it myself and save them the trouble?’
Mrs Winkle laughed again.
‘Very good, Anna!’ she said. ‘That’s what we like here at St Munchin’s – a terrific sense of humour! We look forward to seeing you soon.’ She picked up her pen and started to write.
I hung my head and turned away.
‘Goodbye,’ I whispered.
Trudging back to Crag Road, my thoughts circled round and round. I’d come so close to getting my wish. But it would all come to nothing. Grizz would see to that.
As I plodded closer to the house, I slowed down. What would be waiting for me? I hadn’t thought of that when I drugged Grizz and Wormella – and they would be awake by now…
I stood outside number 13, and gazed up at the sky. Clouds covered the sun and a cold wind was picking up. I had goosebumps all over my arms. I let myself in and crept into the kitchen.
Grizz and Wormella were sitting at the kitchen table – and Grizz was holding Charlie around the neck.