sniffed. ‘What’s done is done. As it happens, I do know how to reverse the spell but I’m certainly not trusting any silly little girl with it. You’ll have to bring the cat to school and I’ll deal with it here. Then you will have extra homework for the next six weeks as punishment. That way you may learn some sense.’
‘Yes Ms Borage,’ murmured Caitlin wretchedly.
‘Here Marmalade,’ she called the next morning. Her mother had lined a strong carton with a soft towel and they were all trying to catch the cat and put him in the box. This was easier than it sounded. Marmalade was not keen on being put into boxes, something he associated with trips to the vet and inoculations. An invisible Marmalade was even more difficult to catch. The Ashby’s finally shut all the doors and windows and went through each room in turn, patting the furniture and calling as they went.
‘Here Marmalade. Hurry up, you dratted cat. I’m going to be late for work.’
‘He won’t come if you shout,’ said Caitlin reasonably. ‘You’ll scare him.’
‘Nothing scares that cat,’ said her father scathingly.
Caitlin was about to dispute this but subsided when she saw the expression on her father’s face. ‘Perhaps we could hold out some fish,’ she suggested.
‘I’m not walking around the house carrying a smelly piece of fish,’ objected Scott. ‘I’d die of embarrassment if anyone saw me.’
‘Now, now, everybody,’ sighed his mother. ‘We have to catch Marmalade and this squabbling isn’t helping. This room is empty so come out quickly and I’ll close the door.’
Mrs Ashby had tried hard to keep the peace, which hadn’t been easy. None of the Ashby’s had enjoyed being woken from a sound sleep by a large invisible cat that jumped onto the bed and made it clear that he was ready to play. Mr Ashby was particularly annoyed, as he had been shaving that morning when a loud yowl came from behind him. This caused him to nick his chin, which bled copiously. He still had a tuft of tissue stuck to it and was becoming more harassed as time went on.
‘Here he is, I’ve got him,’ called Scott triumphantly, diving in a rugby tackle to the living room floor. There was a howl from Marmalade and an even louder howl from Scott, who stood up empty handed with three red claw marks streaked across his arm.
‘That’s it. I’ve had it. I’m off,’ he snarled, and stormed out of the room.
‘I have to go or I’ll be late for work,’ said Mr Ashby hurriedly, following his son.
His wife sighed. ‘We’ll have to catch him by ourselves, then Caitlin. I think that food is a good idea of yours. Let’s fill the cat bowl in the kitchen, the spare one we can actually see, and wait for Marmalade to come and eat it.’
Caitlin agreed to this sensible suggestion and soon they had a protesting Marmalade securely strapped inside the box.
It was with great relief that Caitlin collected the box from the staffroom after school. Marmalade was very fat and contented and she suspected that the teachers had been slipping him tit bits of food, even though they preferred black cats.
‘Oh no,’ groaned Caitlin. ‘I’ll have to catch the last broom again. I’ve missed the first one.’
‘I’ll come with you and help with Marmalade,’ offered Holly. ‘It’s not going to be easy holding that box on a broomstick.’
They stood gloomily waiting as Miss Wilson came shakily along the road. The girls climbed onto the broom, balancing the box between them. They were the only passengers and Caitlin hoped the broom would find it easier. Unfortunately, the broom was more sluggish than ever and the girls resignedly started to run along the road to help. Eventually the broomstick rose into the air. It swayed from side to side in sickening jolts, barely above the ground.
‘Go higher,’ shouted Miss Wilson, and hit the broom so sharply that she snapped her wand. The broom instantly began to climb. Higher and higher it went, wobbling sideways and lurching until it was skimming the rooftops. There was an ominous rumble from the box as Marmalade objected to the motion. Caitlin looked at the box worriedly as she saw a claw poke out one of the air holes and start to wave around.
‘Look out,’ screamed Holly, as they saw the large clock tower rapidly approaching.
‘I can’t control it,’ gasped Miss Wilson.
The broom was losing height now and they were almost certainly going to collide with the clock tower. Holly screamed again and Caitlin shut her eyes. There was a louder scream as Marmalade finally clawed his way out of the box. As Caitlin opened her eyes and desperately tried to grab him with one hand, he leaped over her shoulder and strolled to the end of the broom where he sat down firmly on the bristles. The broom gave a start and immediately moved in a banking turn to avoid the clock. As Miss Wilson sighed with relief, the broom then turned back on course and glided smoothly down to the street where it continued until it reached Caitlin’s house.
‘Wow! I’m glad you fixed the broom, Miss Wilson,’ said Caitlin shakily. ‘I thought we were going to be toast for a while there.’
‘It was nothing to do with me, dear, it was the cat. My old Dexter used to sit there and the broom must have been pining since he passed away. I wonder…do you suppose your parents would let me borrow Marmalade? Just for the School Broom Run I mean,’ she added quickly. ‘It would make things so much easier.’
Caitlin looked at the broom. It looked younger and much stronger. Even its bristles looked alert and frisky. Marmalade was purring loudly and showed no inclination to get off.
‘I’m sure they’d be happy to,’ said Caitlin with a smile. ‘And I can see that Marmalade enjoys it.’
She giggled happily as she and Holly walked down the path.
‘What’s so funny?’ asked Holly.
‘I can’t wait to tell Dad,’ confessed Caitlin. ‘He always said that if Marmalade ever did anything useful, he would eat his hat. I’d better get the tomato sauce out for him. He’s going to need it!’
The Weekend Witches and Other Stories Page 11