That evening at home at number 13 Crag Road was very uncomfortable for me. I live with my two aunts, who aren’t witches themselves, but know a lot about witchcraft. They encourage me in my magic studies.
So as soon as I stepped through the kitchen door, I confessed what I’d done. I was hoping they’d help me.
Fat chance! Instead of sympathising they scolded me for hours. They were so busy lecturing me, I didn’t even get any tea. The only member of the family who was nice to me was my cat, Charlie!
‘But WHY?’ shouted Aunty Grizz for the tenth time. ‘What on earth made you do such a foolish, wicked thing?!’
‘Because Mrs Cuffy always picks on me!’ I said. ‘And today she even made Mary cry!’
‘Anna, dear, really,’ said Aunty Wormella. ‘It’s still going a little far, don’t you think?’
‘She deserved it,’ I mumbled stubbornly. Charlie jumped onto my lap and snuggled down. At least he understood me.
‘No one deserves to live life as a rodent!’ shouted Aunty Grizz, thumping the kitchen table. She cast a pained look at an empty cage in a dusty corner of the kitchen. ‘And I should know!’
It was true, she did know. Once a long time ago, in the days when I didn’t like Aunty Grizz, I turned her into a mouse. I was just beginning to learn I had magic powers – and it was thrilling! But, of course, Aunty Grizz didn’t see it quite like that.
‘Do you have any idea what it’s like to look at yourself in the mirror and realise you have big ears, four legs and a tail!’ she shouted. ‘And not in a good way!’
No, I had to admit, I had no idea how that might feel.
‘And for all your talent, you couldn’t change Grizz back, could you, dear,’ said Aunty Wormella, shaking her head. ‘She lived in that cage for weeks, eating nothing but toast crumbs. In the end, we had to call in Mrs Winkle to make her human again.’
My stomach did a back flip.
‘But we can’t call in Mrs Winkle this time!’ I said, panicking. ‘She’ll skin me alive! She’ll expel me! She’ll turn me into something horrible …’
‘You’re already something horrible,’ muttered Aunty Grizz, crossing her arms.
‘Calm down, you two, calm down,’ said Aunty Wormella. ‘We’ll never solve anything by losing our heads.’
‘Hmph!’ said Aunty Grizz. ‘Sounds to me like she lost her head a long time ago. I blame you, Wormella, you’ve always spoiled the child …’
And off they went into an argument. They always did this. They could never agree on the best way to bring up an orphan witch, and whose fault it was that I was turning out so wayward.
After about five minutes, I lost patience with the two of them. I took off my shoe and banged the table with it. Charlie jumped off my lap in fright and ran into his basket.
‘When you’ve quite finished!’ I said. ‘We still have the small problem of my science teacher skulking around St Munchin’s as a rat! What am I going to do?’
There was silence in the kitchen. The aunts looked at me and at each other. Aunty Grizz drummed the table with her fingers, while Aunty Wormella hummed a little tune under her breath. Finally Aunty Grizz sat up straight.
‘Where is she now?’ she asked.
‘Don’t know,’ I said. Then I had an idea.
‘That’s what I have to do,’ I said. ‘Find her, coax her out of her hiding place, and turn her back into a human. Mrs Cuffy hasn’t been a rat for very long. With a bit of luck, she won’t remember anything about it.’
‘But, Anna, dear,’ Aunty Wormella said. ‘You said you tried to change her back into a human when you were in class, but it didn’t work.’
I waved my hands about airily.
‘The heat of the moment,’ I said. ‘This time I’ll find a really good spell. It’ll be different when I get a chance to work on her properly.’
‘And how are you supposed to find her, clever clogs?’ asked Aunty Grizz.
We all sat scratching our heads and chins for a few silent minutes.
‘I know!’ said Aunty Wormella, clicking her fingers. ‘The crystal ball! We haven’t used it for ages! That’ll tell you where she is!’
I’d forgotten we even had a crystal ball. At Crag Road, we still had a lot of equipment from the days when my aunts believed that they were the witches, and not me. We had cauldrons and broomsticks and pointy hats and jars of strange ingredients heaped in a jumble all over the house.
I don’t use that sort of stuff – I don’t even use a wand very often. I’m a modern witch – and all those old traditions and trappings are soooo last century! But, I must admit, they can come in handy sometimes – like now.
I scrambled onto the kitchen counter, reached to the top of a cupboard, and lifted down a dark red box with silver stars all over it. I hopped down and placed the box on the kitchen table. We all stood around and stared at it.
‘Open it, then,’ said Aunty Wormella, nudging me.
‘OK, OK,’ I said. I took the lid off the box and sifted through piles of scrunched - up newspaper. I felt something hard and cold, and lifted it out.
The crystal ball glittered as I placed it onto the kitchen table. I stared at it and shivered.
