This time Jessica allowed no time for argument. With a flying leap, she went through the back door, grabbing her mum by her flowing, witch-like scarf as she passed. As she landed, she grabbed her dad by his ordinary, gardener-like denim collar.
‘Right,’ she announced. ‘You two are coming with me.’
Mr and Mrs Haggerthwaite looked at Jessica, then looked at each other. Then, like two lambs, they meekly followed their daughter into the house and upstairs into her bedroom. They could both see that there was absolutely no point in fighting.
‘This had better be good,’ said Mrs Haggerthwaite, recovering her spirits somewhat.
Jessica ignored her.
‘Sit down,’ she commanded.
She waited until her parents were sitting attentively on her bed. Then she went over to the crate her dad had brought and undid the string. She lifted the lid and carefully, very carefully, one by one, lifted out the contents. Then she reached down under her desk and lifted out six more of the same type of object.
‘Tomatoes!’ gasped Mrs Haggerthwaite. She was looking very pink, whether from shock or anger it was difficult to tell.
‘Tomato plants,’ Mr Haggerthwaite corrected her. ‘And very fine ones too. I’m sure that’s because Jessica keeps them in a sunny part of the greenhouse and uses the best fertiliser -’
‘Shut up!’ Jessica yelled. Her parents were so startled that they just sat there. Jessica took a deep breath and began.
‘Now listen to me. This is my science project. And you’re going to pay attention while I explain it to you.
‘As you can see, there are twelve plants. Six are from Aunt Kate’s greenhouse, and six are from our greenhouse here at home. They all came from seeds that Dad originally grew in our greenhouse. But six of them Dad took to Aunt Kate’s and has been raising his way. And six are the ones that got left behind and Mum has been raising them her way.’
With that, Mr Haggerthwaite gave Mrs Haggerthwaite a very accusing look. She had the grace to blush a little.
‘Well, why not?’ she began. ‘After all, you weren’t needing them -’Jessica silenced with her a glare.
‘These tomatoes,’ Jessica continued, ‘were raised from the same soil and from the same packet of seed - even the amount of sunlight was the same. I checked all those things. There was only one difference. Dad’s six plants were treated with normal fertiliser. But Mum’s six were treated with her magic potion.’
Her parents sat gazing at her in silence, and Jessica took a deep breath and continued her explanation.
‘Now, every scientific experiment needs to have a hypothesis. That’s what you think is going to happen - or what you’re trying to prove,’ she added, seeing her parents look blank. ‘Now my hypothesis -’ and here she blushed a little - ‘was that the plants treated with the fertiliser would grow faster than the plants treated with Mum’s potion.’
‘Typical!’ snorted Mrs Haggerthwaite.
‘Well,’ said Jessica, almost apologetically. ‘You know I want to be a scientist. Of course I thought fertiliser was best. I wanted to prove you wrong, once and for all. And I thought that this was the one thing that might make you see sense.’ She paused. ‘After all, I am a witch dispatcher.’
‘If you mean that ridiculous sign on your door – ’ began Mrs Haggerthwaite dangerously. But Mr Haggerthwaite hushed her.
‘Go on, love,’ he said, turning to Jessica.
‘So I measured them all very carefully – in fact I measured every tomato plant in the greenhouses – several times, and I wrote it out in my notebook, and I made my bar chart -’
Mr and Mrs Haggerthwaite were no longer listening. They were staring at the tomato plants.
‘But they’re all exactly the same!’ Mrs Haggerthwaite burst out.
‘I know,’ said Jessica. ‘They’re exactly the same height. Whether you used fertiliser or magic potion, it didn’t make any difference. And on average, they produced the same number of leaves and the same number of tomatoes too. And,’ she added, just so there should be no remaining doubts, ‘Midge and I took turns to be blind fold, and then we tested a tomato from every plant, and they taste equally delicious too.’
There was a long silence.
Then both Mr and Mrs Haggerthwaite burst into speech. Was Jessica sure she had got it right? Had she really measured the plants the right way? Had she really counted every leaf? Had she really tasted the tomatoes?
‘Of course I did!’ Jessica declared, crossly. ‘And Miss Barnaby said the whole thing was completely scientific! After all,’ she added, ‘I have won first prize in the Science Competition!’
And before her parents could say anything else, she went on, ‘And I did more than that, too. I found out why they’re the same height.’
‘How on earth did you do that?’ asked her father.
‘Easy,’ said Jessica. ‘I got hold of Mum’s spell book -’
‘You did what?’ Mrs Haggerthwaite glared.
‘- And then I looked up the ingredients in my Science Encyclopaedia. And what I discovered is that a lot of her spell is the same thing, really, when it comes to the actual chemicals, as Dad’s fertiliser. Like the comfrey. There’s lots of comfrey in Mum’s potion, and comfrey’s just full of potassium.’
‘Tomatoes love potassium,’ said Mr Haggerthwaite.
‘I know,’ said Jessica. ‘And then there’s the soaked nettles. They have potassium too, and so do the sow thistles. And the sorrel has calcium and phosphorus. And then there’s the seaweed.’
‘Seaweed!’
‘Yes. Seaweed has everything! It’s wonderful! They even sell it at the garden centre. Mind you,’ she added, ‘I’m not sure about the dead beetles. Or the pond slime. Or the sheep’s eyes.’
‘I left those out, actually,’ Mrs Haggerthwaite admitted.
‘So it’s not surprising that the plants grew to the same height,’ said Mr Haggerthwaite.
‘Not really. Mrs Lippitt at the garden centre says the potion is probably what they would call an organic fertiliser. It does the same thing as a normal fertiliser, but it’s all natural ingredients.’
‘And you’ve always been in favour of organics, Tom!’ Mrs Haggerthwaite pointed out smugly.
‘Well, of course, if I’d known you were just talking about an organic fertilizer – ’
‘Not just an organic fertiliser,’ Mrs Haggerthwaite corrected him. ‘An ancient, long-treasured magic potion, that it just so happens can also be explained in modern scientific terms. A victory for witchcraft, I would say! And how do these chemicals make the tomatoes grow, eh? Tell me that! There’s the real magic!’
Jessica grinned. And, having watched the tomato plants herself, and seen their hard, green spheres turn into ripe, red fruit, she almost wondered if her mother was right. But she did not want to be distracted.
‘Now you listen to me,’ she told her parents. ‘I don’t care one jot about tomatoes! Not a whisker, not a smidgen. As Aunt Kate would say, I don’t care stuff!’
‘But then why -’ began Mr Haggerthwaite, rather startled.
‘I’ll tell you why.’ And suddenly Jessica found her voice was shaking. ‘Because I care that you don’t live here anymore! And I wanted to sort out your stupid quarrels, once and for all!’
She gestured towards the tomato plants.
‘You can see the truth before you. You were both right and you were both wrong. And perhaps that’s true of other things, too. Maybe that’s something you should think about.’ She swallowed. ‘And now - well, I can’t stop you living apart if you want to. Even -’ she clenched her hands – ‘getting a divorce. But if you do get divorced, don’t pretend it’s over something as stupid as how to grow tomatoes.’
All of a sudden, Jessica was sure she was going to burst into tears. Blinking furiously, she turned and fled from the room. Behind her she could hear her parents calling, ‘Jessica! Jessica! Come back!’ but she paid no attention.
It’s up to them now, she thought, as she stumbled across the landing and down the stairs. It’s up to them. I’ve done my very best, but now it’s really up to them.