It was playtime at St Munchin’s. Across the playground, there were children screaming, laughing, kicking footballs, and chasing each other. One small figure peeled off from the rest, and pelted across the playground in my direction.
It was Mary.
‘You’re out!’ she panted. ‘I called at your house!’
‘Yeah, I heard,’ I said. ‘So you met my aunt Grizz?’
‘Yeah,’ said Mary. She rolled her eyes. ‘What a nightmare!’
‘Tell me about it,’ I said.
‘So what’s your next move?’ said Mary.
‘I’ve got to see Mrs Winkle again,’ I said. ‘I need her help and I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to get here today.’
‘Here she comes now!’ said Mary. She squinted at the large figure striding across the playground.
‘She doesn’t look too happy,’ she said. ‘I’m off!’
Mary raced across the playground and disappeared behind a tree. I straightened my shoulders, and turned to face Mrs Winkle.
‘Anna Kelly!’ she boomed.
‘Good morning, Mrs Winkle,’ I said. ‘I have come to ask you …’
Mrs Winkle peered over her glasses at me. Her blue eyes bored into my skull. She held up her hand and started counting on her fat fingers.
‘First, you aren’t in school when you should be,’ she said. ‘Then you aren’t at home when you should be. Now you are in school when you shouldn’t be …’
‘I’m sorry, Miss,’ I said, slightly louder. ‘But I’ve been a bit busy, what with learning magic, and getting locked up, and freeing animals, and destroying an evil book, and setting fire to cellars and …’
Mrs Winkle held her hand up and I stopped talking. Her eyes glinted.
‘Learning what?’ she said. ‘Did you say magic?’
I gulped. What had I said that for? She’d think I had really lost it and she’d have me locked up …
But Mrs Winkle threw back her head and laughed.
‘I knew it!’ she said. ‘I knew there was something different about you!’
There was something different about me all right – but how did Mrs Winkle know? As if reading my mind, she leaned forward.
‘Sometimes,’ she whispered. ‘It takes one to know one.’
My mouth fell open.
‘You don’t mean you’re a …’
I couldn’t quite get the word out, but Mrs Winkle nodded slowly.
‘But you wear a suit,’ I said. ‘And you’ve got a proper job. You’re a head teacher, for goodness sake!’
‘Despite what your aunt Grizz thinks,’ said Mrs Winkle, ‘it’s not all pointy hats and broomsticks, not these days.’
She smiled.
‘Come into my office. We have a lot to discuss …’