FROM ‘THE WITCH APPRENTICE’

LEAVING SUNNY HILLS

I couldn’t believe my eyes when I first saw number 13 Crag Road. No wonder everyone at the Sunny Hills Children’s Home had sniggered when I’d said it was going to be my new home.

Everything about number 13 was crooked. Its walls were crooked, its chimneys were crooked. Even its doors and windows were crooked.

It looked like it was going to fall over any second.

But crooked or not, number 13 was my new home. You see, the two ladies who owned the place, Grizz and Wormella Mint, had adopted me.

My name’s Anna Kelly. I don’t have any parents, and I have never had a proper home. I’ve been at Sunny Hills Children’s Home since I was a tiny baby. By the time I was nine, so many people had decided NOT to adopt me that I had grown used to the idea of spending the rest of my life at Sunny Hills.

But I wasn’t happy about it, not one bit. So when Grizz and Wormella turned up, promising me a pink-and-white bedroom with its own private bathroom, a posh new school, new clothes, weekly pocket money and my own TV, I felt like I’d won the Lotto!

They had been so sweet in Mrs Pegg’s office. So sweet and so keen to have me. Very, very keen.

‘Anna, darling,’ the skinny one had cooed. ‘You’ll have the run of the house! You’ll be able to do exactly as you like!’

‘Thanks, Miss!’ I said.

‘Call me “aunty”, dear,’ she crooned.

The run of the house! Able to do what I wanted! That suited me just fine. I was used to a lot of rules and regulations at Sunny Hills. It was porridge at 7.00am, lights out at 9.00pm, that kind of thing.

But now! Now life was looking up! The two old dears’ only wish was to pamper me. I’d get new clothes, new toys …

It took exactly a minute after arriving at number 13 Crag Road for me to realise I’d made a mistake. A big, BIG mistake.

The Witch Apprentice by Marian Broderick, ISBN 978-1-84717-129-0

 

 

FROM ‘THE WITCH IN THE WOODS’

MRS WINKLE GETS CROSS

You’re going to a witches’ workshop this Saturday,’ said Mrs Winkle.

‘This Saturday?’ I said. ‘But I can’t this Saturday, Miss!’

‘What do you mean, you can’t?’ said Mrs Winkle, frowning. ‘It’s all arranged.’

‘I’m really sorry, Miss,’ I said. ‘But Mary and I are having a sleepover at my house. We’ve been planning it for ages …’

‘A sleepover?’ said Mrs Winkle. ‘Sitting around watching rubbish on TV and eating junk food? Do you really think that’s more important than working on your magic?’

That was exactly what I thought – but I didn’t dare say so. So I just stared at the floor and moved from one foot to the other.

‘Stubborn child!’ she said. ‘You must at least promise you’ll practise at home this weekend,’ she said. ‘A lot. Sleepover or not!’

‘Yes, Miss,’ I said. ‘I promise.’

In the playground, Mary was leaning against the old hazel tree.

‘What was all that about?’ she said.

‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘Homework lecture, that’s all.’

‘Come on,’ said Mary. ‘Let’s go home by Coldwell Wood, it’ll be quicker!’

A shiver ran down my spine.

‘Do we have to?’ I said. ‘It’s safer by the main road.’

‘Don’t be such a baby!’ said Mary. ‘Last one to Crag Road is a turnip!’ She shot off into the trees.

I hesitated. I always avoid dark, creepy places. You never knew who – or what – you might meet. But I could see Mary’s blue school jumper disappearing into the gloom. So I hoicked my bag over my shoulder, and jogged into the wood after her.

‘Let’s at least stick to the path, OK?’ I panted, as I fell into step beside her.

‘Yes, Grandma,’ said Mary. ‘Keep your freckles on.’

We strolled along in silence. The dry leaves crackled beneath our feet and somewhere a bird squawked.

‘Listen to that!’ I said. ‘It sounds like a cat being turned inside out!’

‘Sounds more like you in choir today!’ said Mary.

‘Hey!’ I laughed and slapped her arm.

Mary danced out of reach, giggling.

‘Come on then!’ she sang. ‘Come and get me!’

She ran between two huge oak trees and into the dark wood.

I groaned.

‘Mary!’ I said. ‘Stop it! You’ll get us in trouble!’

I stopped walking. There was dead silence.

‘Mary!’ I shouted. I could hear my own voice quavering. ‘Mary?’

Keep walking, I told myself. Mary’s all right, she’s just messing about.

But I couldn’t walk. All I could do was stare into the trees, where Mary had disappeared.

Between the two oaks, I could see a glimmering green light – and it was growing brighter and brighter.

The Witch in the Woods by Marian Broderick, ISBN 978-1-84717-108-5

AVAILABLE FROM ALL GOOD BOOKSHOPS