The Worst Witch All at Sea

by The Worst Witch All At Sea

  ‘I have an announcement to make, girls,’ she continued, ‘which should cheer Mildred up considerably. Mr Rowan-Webb, the magician Mildred rescued from the school pond last term, has written and asked if Mildred and her form would like to spend a week at his home by the sea during the Summer Term, by way of a thank-you to Mildred.’

  There were gasps of delight from the girls, who all turned to Mildred with joyous comments.

  ‘It seems that we all have you to thank for this little treat,’ said Miss Hardbroom, making it sound as if Mildred had done something wrong.

  Mildred didn’t know whether to smile or look solemn.

  ‘Goodness me, girl,’ said Miss Hardbroom, noting Mildred’s anxious face. ‘Surely the thought of a week at the seaside is a cheering thought?’

  ‘Oh yes, Miss Hardbroom,’ sniffed Mildred, ‘it’s cheered me up very much. But I was wondering if I could bring Tabby with me as a little break from the kitchen. I wondered if it would…’ Her voice trailed away as she saw Miss Hardbroom’s eyebrow arch into a slant, like a poised spear.

  There was no point in continuing. Mildred stared down at her feet and tried to look suitably pleased about the holiday, which was difficult when trying not to cry.

  Maud sneaked a hand under Mildred’s desk and squeezed her friend’s arm. They both knew that a holiday would be no fun at all, with Tabby left behind in the kitchen wondering why Mildred didn’t come to collect him.

  radually, the weather improved. It stopped snowing, the snow melted and soon the girls were all out in the chilly playground again, trying to devise new ways of keeping warm. The holiday was planned for the first week in May and everyone hoped that it might be warm enough by then to swim and have some fun. Mildred was the only one who didn’t seem to be looking forward to the treat in any way.

  ‘I wonder if there’ll be a sandy beach,’ said Maud, as they all stood ankle-deep in slush in the playground during lunch-break.

  ‘— and caves!’ said Enid.

  ‘And a whole week of sunshine so that we can sunbathe and swim,’ said Maud. ‘What do you think, Mil?’

  ‘Mildred doesn’t think,’ said Ethel Hallow, who just happened to be passing by on her way to the library. ‘At least, I didn’t see much evidence of any thought last term.’

  ‘Oh, do leave me alone, Ethel,’ said Mildred, hunching her cloak up around her ears.

  ‘Not looking forward to our little treat then?’ Ethel continued, in her usual sneering tone. ‘I can’t think why the whole thing’s in honour of you, anyway. You’re always messing everything up, you’re the worst witch in the school –’

  ‘Come on, Mildred,’ said Maud, trying to keep the peace. ‘Let’s go somewhere else and leave Ethel to her sour grapes.’

  They all trailed across the playground and tried to get out of the wind by huddling in the broom-shed (which is exactly the same as a bike-shed, except that it houses broomsticks instead of bicycles).

  In fact, Ethel’s observations about the holiday in Mildred’s honour were very ill-advised. The whole incident

  ending up with Mildred in the pond had been completely due to Ethel in the first place. During the Winter Term, Ethel had changed Mildred into a frog. Mildred had hopped off to find help and been discovered by Miss Hardbroom, who had put her into a jar in the potion laboratory. The frog-Mildred had escaped from her jar and fled to the pond to hide, where she had met the magician, Mr Rowan-Webb, also turned into a frog by enchantment. Mildred had rescued him and made sure he was reinstated as a human, so he was naturally very grateful to her, but Ethel was jealous of all the attention and praise which had been heaped on Mildred.

  ‘What’s up, Mil?’ asked Maud. ‘Aren’t you even a bit thrilled about the holiday? Miss Hardbroom’s already sent off for our regulation swimming-costumes and bathing-hats. I think it’s the most exciting thing that’s happened for years.’

  ‘Sorry to be a wet blanket, Maud,’ said Mildred. ‘I’m just a bit fed up at the moment, that’s all.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mil,’ said Enid. ‘I’m sure you’ll be just as glad as everyone else by the time we actually set off to – where is it? What’s the name of the place where the magician lives?’

  ‘Gloom Castle, Grim Cove,’ said Mildred.

  ‘What a terrible name!’ said Enid.

  ‘You’re joking!’ exclaimed Maud.

  ‘No I’m not,’ said Mildred. ‘I saw it at the top of the letter on Miss Hardbroom’s desk. Sounds brilliant, doesn’t it? I can just see us all frozen to death,

  doing broomstick practice up and down 500-foot sheer cliffs in our swimming-costumes – anyway, just imagine what the swimming-costumes will be like! If Miss Hardbroom thought our black and grey checked dresses were frivolous, goodness knows what she’ll come up with for swimwear. Anyway, I’m bound to get everything wrong. Ethel’s right really – I do mess everything up. I am the worst witch in the school.’

  Maud and Enid felt awful. Mildred was truly down in the dumps, and nothing they could say seemed to cheer her up. What they didn’t know was that she had another secret fear – like her embarrassing fear of the dark. Mildred couldn’t swim. She had never learned how to, and even with armbands or a ring around her middle she was as terrified as Tabby on the back of the broomstick.

  Tabby was the other problem. She missed Tabby so dreadfully that nothing could make her feel better – nothing except having Tabby back again—and she didn’t know how to work out a plan to rescue him.

  Ebony, Fenella’s cat was a first-rate cat, almost as good as Ethel’s. Mildred felt a twinge of disloyalty as she zoomed around the playground during broomstick practice with the perfectly

  trained Ebony bolt upright behind her. It really was a help to have a cat which was a credit to you. But at night, Ebony would set off through the window and along the school wall for a night of hunting, whereas dear, scruffy old Tabby had always spent the night curled up either on Mildred’s chest or round the top of her head like a fur hat. Enid gave Mildred a rather nice furry tabby-cat hot-water bottle,

  but it only made her feel worse.

  If only someone had invented a hot-water bottle that purred, thought Mildred sadly, as she curled up under the bedclothes in the dark.

  very so often, Mildred made secret trips to the kitchen in an attempt to visit her abandoned pet. However, the kitchen was always bustling with cooks and dinner-ladies, and so far she had only caught one glimpse of Tabby, looking rather thin and even more moth-eaten than usual, curled up on top of a tall cupboard in a dark corner. Each time, someone had noticed Mildred skulking in the shadows, and shooed her away.

  Meanwhile, the holiday at Grim Cove loomed nearer. One morning, Miss Hardbroom strode into the classroom with a large box containing the swimwear so eagerly awaited by Mildred’s class.

  Their spirits sank as Miss Hardbroom held up one of the costumes for their inspection. It was like one of those old-fashioned Victorian bathing-costumes, in black and grey stripes, with elbow-length sleeves and knee-length legs. The school badge, depicting a black cat on a yellow moon, was embroidered across the chest, and to crown this outfit was a close-fitting black swimming-hat.

  Miss Hardbroom narrowed her eyes as her glance darted around the room.

  ‘Well, girls,’ she said coldly, ‘I had hoped for slightly more enthusiasm from all of you. Miss Cackle has gone to considerable trouble and expense to

  kit you out with these superb garments. In fact, Miss Cackle has decided to join us for our exciting week on holiday. Isn’t that wonderful? The remainder of the lesson will be spent making cards for Miss Cackle, to thank her for your marvellous swimming outfits.’

  A faint groan of general disappointment rumbled around the classroom like distant thunder, as they all heaved open their desk-lids and rummaged around for their coloured pencils.

  That evening, the members of Form Two all tried on their swimming-costumes in the wash-room before they got into their night-clothes. Mildred’s

 
was slightly too large and rather baggy, and Maud’s was unfortunately a little too tight, so that the school badge was stretched sideways across her front. Needless to say, Ethel’s fitted like a glove and even managed to look quite smart.

  ‘I have four cups for swimming from the first school I attended,’ said Ethel. ‘We had a huge swimming-pool there and I won cups for everything – diving, life-saving, relay racing and broomstick water-skiing.’

  ‘Gosh,’ said Mildred. ‘What’s broomstick water-skiing?’

  ‘Don’t you know anything, Mildred Hubble?’ said Ethel in her infuriatingly superior tone. ‘It’s easy-peasy. You have skis on both feet, like ordinary skis, then you tie a piece of rope to the back of your broom, and off you zoom, holding on to the rope so the broomstick pulls you along like a boat. We can have races at Grim Cove. Of course, I’ll win, but it’s jolly good fun, even for all the losers.’

  Mildred wondered if she ought to confess to Maud that she couldn’t swim but it was so depressing constantly being hopeless at everything. She longed to say to everyone, ‘Oh yes, I’m brilliant at such and such. Let me help you,’ instead of spending her whole life desperately trying to memorize spells in the library and ending up in Miss Cackle’s study explaining for the hundredth time why everything had gone wrong.

  Also brewing in the back of Mildred’s mind was a plan to kidnap (or catnap) Tabby from the kitchen and smuggle him away on the holiday with them. Even if she got into the most awful trouble on their return, she felt it would be worth it to spend a whole week with her much-loved pet, and she really did want to enjoy the holiday, particularly as it was a result of one thing that she had actually done right – saving Mr Rowan-Webb, the kindly old magician, from a lifetime of frog-dom.

  ‘Are you up to something, Mil?’ asked Enid one evening at dinner.

  ‘Yes,’ said Maud. ‘You’ve got that far-away, vague sort of look you get when you’re thinking up some scheme or other.’

  ‘What?’ asked Mildred vaguely, glancing up from a ghastly-looking plate of grey stew with a slab of yellow cabbage in the middle.

  ‘I told you,’ said Enid. ‘She’s up to something.’

  ‘No I’m not,’ said Mildred. ‘And I’m really starting to look forward to the holiday now. I think we’re all going to have a very exciting time.’

  ‘Not too exciting, Mildred,’ said Maud uneasily. ‘We don’t want any trouble, do we?’

  But Mildred wasn’t listening. She was busily working out the finer details of her plan to snatch Tabby twenty minutes before take-off on their broomsticks for the flight to Grim Cove.

  uck was on Mildred’s side for once. Miss Cackle announced that the journey to the magician’s castle would begin at dawn. Each girl would have a packed breakfast to eat halfway through the journey, which would be ready and stowed away in their suitcase the night before. Miss Cackle also announced that, as it was a fairly long flight, lasting two hours, all pupils’ cats would be transported in cat-baskets to save any accidents with sleepy or nervous cats falling off into the tree-tops below.

  This meant that firstly the kitchen staff would not be up and about and secondly there would be a conveniently dark cat-basket in which to hide Tabby.

  Mildred did consider telling Maud and Enid of her plan, but she knew that they would be so anxious on her behalf that it would only worry them, so she decided against it.

  The morning of the holiday dawned. Mildred had been up and dressed for two hours, hoping that Ebony would be back early from his night out hunting, as he was sometimes out until long after dawn. Thankfully, on this occasion, he was back twenty minutes before the first blush of morning light stole across the cloudy, grey sky.

  Mildred seized the elegant black creature as he positioned himself ready to spring from the window-ledge on to

  the top of the wardrobe. She bundled him into the cat-basket and crept out into the deserted corridor.

  There was a dim night-lantern burning at the end of each corridor and at the head of each staircase, so she was easily able to make her way to the kitchen, once her eyes had adjusted to the gloomy light.

  The kitchen looked strange with no one in it, all the pots and pans hanging on their hooks and no fires burning in the cooking ranges. The only sign of life was the pattering of dozens of tiny feet as mice swarmed all over the tables and worktops looking for leftover crumbs. Obviously Tabby was no use whatsoever in his new job.

  ‘Tabby,’ called Mildred softly. A shiver ran down her spine as she peered around into all the dark corners, huge creepy-looking cauldrons and storage cupboards with doors half-open as if someone might be lurking inside.

  ‘Tab!’ she called again. ‘It’s me. It’s Mildred, I’ve come to fetch you.’

  One of the cupboard doors creaked open and Mildred screamed, her heart banging in her ears with fright.

  An answering ‘Miaow!’ set her mind at rest as Tabby came pattering softly to greet her, a half-eaten kipper dangling out of his mouth. The little cat was so delighted to see his mistress that he dropped the kipper and leaped into her arms, where there was much miaowing and cuddling, and even weeping from Mildred.

  Tabby settled contentedly around Mildred’s neck as if to say, ‘Now where have you been all this time?’ and Mildred bent down and unlatched the cat-basket.

  Ebony stalked out looking rather annoyed at being shoved into the basket and then unceremoniously plonked out on to the cold, stone kitchen floor.

  ‘Off you go, Eb,’ whispered Mildred. ‘I’m taking Tabby for a little holiday, so you can stand in for him while he’s away. Oh, Tabby, they’re all going to go mad when they find out. Perhaps they won’t notice, with a bit of luck. Still I don’t care. It’s worth anything to have you back, even for a week. Come on, you’ll have to go into the basket or we’ll be found out before we even get there.’

  Tabby didn’t mind going into the basket at all. Mildred could hear him purring like a car-engine as she headed for the kitchen door. As she heaved it open, several mice skittered out from beneath the large table and dived past into the corridor, pursued by Ebony.

  Mildred giggled, ‘Oh, Tabby,’ she said, scratching his head fondly through the wicker bars.

  ‘You’re such a hopeless case. I have missed you.’

  peration Rescue-Tabby had taken longer than Mildred had calculated, and she arrived in the yard to find everyone, including Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom, all lined up and ready to set off. They were standing in rows, in absolute silence, as Mildred burst through the main door and clumped to her place in line.

  ‘Ah, Mildred,’ said Miss Hardbroom crisply. ‘How kind of you to join us. Perhaps you had a little problem getting up so early in the morning?’

  ‘Yes, Miss Hardbroom,’ agreed Mildred, relieved to be provided with an excuse. ‘And then I had to wait for Ebony to come in from his hunting and then I couldn’t get him to go into the basket and then I couldn’t…’

  ‘That will do, Mildred!’ snapped Miss Hardbroom. ‘I really don’t want to stand here all morning listening to a never-ending list of all the things you couldn’t do before we were graced with your presence. Now then, if Miss Cackle is agreeable, we shall proceed to Grim Cove and the splendid holiday which awaits us.’

  Miss Cackle smiled and nodded at the girls. ‘Most certainly, Miss Hardbroom,’ she said. ‘Let us proceed at once! We don’t want to waste one moment of our jolly holiday, do we, girls?’

  Form Two let out a loud cheer of agreement.

  ‘That is quite enough, girls!’ exclaimed Miss Hardbroom. ‘Miss Cackle doesn’t want to be deafened. Now, Mildred Hubble, a word in your ear. Mr Rowan-Webb has kindly bestowed this holiday upon Form Two out of gratitude for your helpful action in saving him from the pond. He obviously thinks most highly of you, so let us hope that you will not do anything whatsoever to disillusion him. Do you think you can manage an entire week without drawing any unwanted attention to yourself? In other words, Mildred, no silly nonsense – all right?’

/>   ‘Oh, definitely, Miss Hardbroom,’ said Mildred, feeling distinctly nervous as she held the cat-basket containing the wrong cat underneath her cloak.

  ‘Good,’ said Miss Hardbroom. ‘Then let us depart. Ethel, dear, lead on. Follow the river.’

  The girls commanded their broomsticks to hover and hooked their suitcases and cat-baskets over the twigs at the back. Then they all arranged themselves side-saddle, jammed their hats on as firmly as possible and took hold of their broomsticks – some more grimly than others. Ethel sat as upright as a telegraph-pole, her fingers

  loosely curled around the stick. At the other end of the scale, Mildred was hanging on so tightly that her knuckles were white and she was almost bent double.

  Ethel led the class over the wall and down the mountain towards the shining river, which was like a mauve and pink ribbon in the sunrise.

  ‘Gosh, Maud,’ said Mildred. ‘It looks really beautiful at this time of day, doesn’t it? Perhaps we’ll have wonderful weather and it will be a great holiday after all.’

  ‘It won’t be if your cat doesn’t shut up,’ said Maud, looking back at Mildred’s cat-basket, from whence a desperate yowling had just started.

  Ethel swooped back alongside Mildred. ‘There’s something about you, Mildred Hubble, isn’t there?’ she observed unpleasantly. ‘I mean, even a superb cat like Ebony goes berserk the

  moment it falls into your clutches. Perhaps being worst at everything is catching – you know, like measles.’

  She zoomed ahead again to take her place as leader of the Form.