The following week, Mrs Haggerthwaite had hardly a moment to spare. Every day was booked solid with clients demanding love potions, good-luck talismans, baldness cures, incantations of one type or another, protective amulets, reviving draughts, charms against vampires or ingrowing toenails, invigorating tonics or health-bequeathing elixirs. ‘I hate to admit it,’ Mrs Haggerthwaite admitted. ‘But my astounding success astounds even me!’
Even Jessica had to admit that this success had a good side. For one thing, it meant that some of those nasty bills could be paid, and the Haggerthwaites could stop worrying that their telephone or electricity was about to be cut off. For another, it meant that Mrs Haggerthwaite did not notice some of the very strange things that Jessica was up to.
For example, Jessica was spending a suspicious amount of time at Aunt Kate’s. Of course, this was not strange in itself. Midge and Jessica often ran over to see their dad. But it was certainly odd that Jessica should take a tape measure and a ball of string with her, or that she should come home covered in soil.
Then there was Robbie Flotsam. He was forever coming round after school. Jessica said that they were working on their science projects together, and Mrs Haggerthwaite thought nothing of it. But she should have been more suspicious. After all, Jessica had often told her that Robbie Flotsam was quite the nastiest boy she knew.
Then there were the footsteps on the stairs in the middle of the night. Not to mention the signs, afterwards, that someone had been looking at Mrs Haggerthwaite’s spell book. Mrs Haggerthwaite should certainly have noticed this (and been absolutely furious, for nobody was allowed to look at her spell book except her). But she was so tired, from all her new customers, that she slept as heavily as if she had taken her own Guaranteed Effective Sleeping Potion. Furthermore, she was under the fond impression that her spell book was untouchable. It was, after all, kept in a magic box, sealed with her strongest and most powerful enchantments. (It was only later that it emerged that these enchantments were neither strong nor powerful enough to stand up to Jessica and the bread knife.)
But if Mrs Haggerthwaite did not notice something was afoot, somebody else did. Midge did not have the distractions of a successful witchcraft business. And if he slept through the footsteps on the stairs, he certainly noticed the tape measure, the string and the soil. And the presence of Robbie Flotsam (who had, after all, tried to jam Midge’s head between the school railings on at least three separate occasions).
It did not take Midge long to realise that Jessica was Up To Something. And once he had realised this, he lost no time in confronting her.
That very evening, as Jessica was working in her room, Midge flung open the door. He got straight to the point.
‘What are you up to?’
Jessica, head bent over her calculator, jumped.
‘I wish you would knock, not just burst in,’ she said crossly.
‘If I knock, then I won’t be able to catch you out, will I?’ Midge pointed out. ‘What are those? And what’s all that?’ He gestured towards the graph paper, the coloured pencils and the calculator.
‘Oh you wouldn’t understand,’ said Jessica. Then she sighed. ‘I have a new plan. But -’
‘- it’s all gone horribly wrong,’ Midge finished for her. ‘Tell me about it.’
So Jessica did. In truth, Midge did not understand all of Jessica’s explanation (especially the bits that involved handfuls of graph paper with squiggly lines all over them). But he understood the basics of what she was doing. And, much to his own amazement, he actually thought Plan C was a good idea.
‘So what’s bothering you?’ he asked when she had finished. ‘I mean, it sounds all right to me. Better than your other plans, anyway’
‘But look at the results! I need to show Mum she’s wrong -’
‘Why?’
‘It’s obvious -’ Then Jessica stopped short. Her eyes took on a thoughtful expression. ‘Hmm. Perhaps you’re right. There are possibilities. I’ll have to think about this.’
She went back to her graphs. Midge grinned and left her to it.
* * *
Three days later Jessica was hurrying through the school gates when she heard a shout. ‘Jessica! Wait for me!’
It was Robbie Flotsam.
Jessica was not terribly pleased to see him. After all, she did not want him to think, now that the projects were finished, that they were going to be friends. Already some people at school had noticed them going home together, and several people had tried to be funny about it. And it was not as if she needed his company. She had plenty of her own friends now at school.
Of course at first everybody (even Clare) had been terribly snooty about a mother who thought she was a witch. There were giggles and whispers and a lot of cruel comments and stupid jokes. Jessica had stuck up for her mother (after all your mother is your mother, even if most of the time you wish she wasn’t). But she’d had a bad time.
Then things had started to change. First one girl and then another had approached to say how much their own mother had benefited from Mrs Haggerthwaite’s Energy and Vitality Enhancing Elixir, or how impressed their granny or auntie had been by a lucky charm or an incantation. Soon some of the girls were asking if Jessica could tell fortunes or make good-luck charms too. Although Jessica was not about to forget the way some of them had behaved towards her, it was nice to have people to talk to once again. Even the boys had been quite polite. Simon Johnson had actually offered Jessica five pounds to get her mother to turn Robbie Flotsam into a frog. (Jessica, regretfully, had declined this.) Although come to that, Robbie too was less unpopular than he had been. Perhaps that was because he was spending more time on his science project, and less time jamming other kids’ heads between railings.
‘What do you want?’ she asked ungraciously. ‘After all,’ she added, ‘we’ve handed in the projects now.’
Robbie looked dismayed. He opened his mouth but nothing came out, and Jessica could not help feeling sorry for him. But she could see Clare smirking at her from the other side of the gate, so she hardened her heart and said nothing.
‘It’s just - about the science projects -’
‘Got a new boyfriend, then, Jessica?’ It was Clare. She snickered as she said it, and for a moment Jessica felt absolutely mortified. She did not want any boyfriend, but most particularly she did not want Robbie Flotsam.
‘Come on, Jessica.’ It was Pippa, arm in arm with Clare. ‘You don’t want to bother with the likes of him.’ She giggled. ‘Come and talk to us.’
Jessica did not even notice Robbie’s face, which had filled with misery as he waited for her to walk away. For she was overcome by a new feeling. Suddenly she was no longer mortified. She was plain mad.
‘You weren’t even speaking to me last week!’ she shouted. ‘You two-faced ninnies.’ She grabbed Robbie’s arm. ‘Come on! We’ve no time for the likes of them. You come home with me.’
She marched him rapidly out of the gates, ignoring the tide of giggles. Her anger lasted until they were round the corner. Then she let go his arm and hastily stepped away.
‘Stupid twits,’ she said crossly. ‘They made me forget Midge. We’ll have to wait and go back. What was it you wanted to say?’
‘What? Oh, that.’ Robbie was having trouble finding his tongue. ‘It’s just - I’ve been thinking - it’s not fair for you not to win the Science Competition. I mean, you did all the work. And you’re best at science, not me.’
Jessica was considerably surprised. She had never suspected Robbie Flotsam of having a conscience before. ‘Look, don’t worry about it. We had a deal. remember? Anyway I need your dad to be in really good mood. It’s part of my plan.’
‘I don’t see why the Science Competition’s going to put my dad in a good mood.’
‘It will when you win! It’ll make your dad really think something of you. He’ll be pleased as anything’ She paused. ‘And then he’ll give my dad that contract.’
‘My dad wouldn’t think something of me even if my project won the Nobel Prize,’ said Robbie gloomily. He stared at his feet and once again Jessica felt sorry for him. It occurred to her that however stupid and idiotic and plain selfish her parents might sometimes be, they never left her in any doubt that they thought something of her and Midge. In fact, more than something.
‘He will,’ she said firmly. ‘My whole plan depends on it. Remember he’s going to be guest of honour at the party as well. If he’s guest of honour and he knows you’ve won the Science Competition, then surely even he’s got to be a bit pleased.’
‘Perhaps.’ But Robbie did not sound very sure. He hesitated, then burst out, ‘What is your plan, anyway? Go on, Jessie. Tell us.’
Now it was Jessica’s turn to hesitate. So far she had told only one person about her plan, and that was Midge. She wondered if she could really trust Robbie Flotsam.
As if he read her thoughts, Robbie said, ‘I won’t tell anyone. I promise.’
All right then,’ said Jessica at last. ‘But it’s a bit difficult to explain. You’d better come home and see the tomatoes.’
‘The tomatoes?’
Jessica grinned. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘They’re more interesting than you’d think.’
* * *
Midge acted quite resigned when he found that they were walking back with Robbie Flotsam. Robbie had not picked on him for ages. He was a bit more surprised when Jessica and Robbie rushed straight out to the greenhouse. He went to watch TV with Liverwort, and he did not see them again until an hour later, when he found them sitting on the steps that led down into the garden.
Robbie was saying, Yeah - I see. Not bad! Not bad at all!’
Jessica looked smug and Midge sighed. He didn’t think she needed any encouragement.
‘I suppose it is quite clever,’ she said.
‘It’s magic!’ Robbie grinned. ‘Sorry But you’re right though. That project won’t win the competition. Definitely not.’
‘It won’t win,’ Jessica agreed. ‘But it might just succeed!’
Midge sat down beside them. He was relieved when they gave up talking about how brilliant Jessica was and turned to more ordinary things, like Liverwort, who was hunting for insects on the paving stones below. At the other end of the garden Mrs Haggerthwaite was piling old branches onto the bonfire she was building next to the compost heap. It was going to be for the party. The guests would be able to roast potatoes and apples and marshmallows on it. She had already hung magic lanterns from the shrubs and apple tree, and although they were not lit, they bobbed lightly in the breeze.
After a while Mrs Haggerthwaite shouted that they were a load of lazy lummocks, and why didn’t they help her build the bonfire? So, after some grumbling, they did. It was hot work, but fun. Robbie soon gave up clouting other people over the head with branches when he realised that there were three of them, and they would clout him back.
At last it was time for Robbie to go home and for Mrs Haggerthwaite to start tea. But none of them wanted to go indoors. Instead Mrs Haggerthwaite fetched out a tin of Aunt Kate’s flapjack. It was supposed to be for the party, but Mrs Haggerthwaite said a few slices would make no difference either way. So they all sat on the steps and munched, while Liverwort crawled around their feet, eating the crumbs. There were squirrels chasing each other along the wall and wood pigeons cooing in the apple tree. The sun dropped lower and lower in the sky.
It was almost a perfect evening.
But Midge knew that something was missing. And he felt sure that Jessica - and even their mother - knew it too.