Witch for a Week

by Kaye Umansky

  Nuisance didn’t take offence. He wagged his tattered tail, trying to look like a winsome puppy you might feed half a sausage to, rather than a disintegrating piece of old carpet.

  ‘Go on,’ said Elsie. ‘I haven’t any food.’ This was true. Her basket just contained her toothbrush and a change of underwear. And, at her mum’s insistence, a warm shawl.

  ‘Write home the minute you get there, mind,’ her mum had said.

  ‘I don’t think there’ll be a postbox in the forest,’ Elsie had said.

  ‘She’s a witch, isn’t she? Tell her to magic one up. If we don’t hear in a day or two, Dad’s coming to find you.’

  Elsie didn’t think that was very likely. Crookfinger Forest was no sun-speckled wood. It was old, dark and scary and it went on forever. Nobody walked dogs there, or went looking for blackberries. Children were forbidden to venture into the trees. And the forest was full of wolves. At night, you could hear them howling.

  Elsie gazed into the wall of dark trees. There was no proper path to follow. No gates or signposts.

  ‘We’ll find you.’ Those had been the witch’s words.

  Right, thought Elsie, Plunge in and hope for the best. That’s how most adventures start.

  ‘Bye, Nuisance,’ she said. ‘Wish me luck.’

  To begin with, the forest was surprisingly pleasant. Birds sang overhead, and here and there were bunches of bluebells. Elsie considered picking some for the witch, but decided against it. Hanging about picking flowers wasn’t a good idea. Not that Elsie believed in talking wolves who ate grandmothers, of course.

  But when you were alone in a forest, it was a story you didn’t want to think about.

  She continued on, following an old badger track, trying to imagine what it would be like to live alone. Looking after herself wouldn’t be a problem. She helped her mum cook, clean and scrub clothes at home, in the tiny attic above the shop that was hardly big enough for one person, let alone six. And the idea of sleeping in a bed of her own was so exciting! No elbows in her ribs or feet in her face. Elsie loved Arthy, Toby and baby Todd, but sharing a bed with three small brothers was no fun at all.

  She thought about the books the witch had mentioned. Imagine being able to sit and read for hours on end without being disturbed!

  She wondered what was meant by the tower having all the magical ‘gear’. Not that it mattered. Elsie didn’t intend to try any magic. In stories, when people messed about with spells, things always went horribly wrong.

  As she walked further and further into the forest, Elsie stopped thinking. She needed all her concentration to keep going. The badger trail had long vanished. Now there were potholes, fallen branches and thick roots. The trees grew so close that their branches intertwined, blocking the light. Thorn bushes dragged at her cloak. Nettles stung her legs.

  Even worse, she kept thinking she could hear something behind her – heavy breathing and the occasional crack of a twig. Things were no longer exciting. Things were scary.

  Heart beating fast, Elsie came to a halt in a small glade and peered around in the gloom.

  ‘Hello?’ she called. ‘Anyone there? Miss Sharp? It’s me, Elsie!’

  Her voice echoed away into silence. Somewhere high above, a bird flapped away, screeching. And then:

  ‘Over here,’ came a voice. ‘Behind you.’

  Elsie turned around.

  And there it was! The tower. Soaring high above the trees, it was neither glass nor ice. It was built of common grey stone, and covered in a thick coat of ivy, which made it blend in to its surroundings. Shuttered windows studded the four walls. At the very top, catching the morning sun, fluttered a red flag.

  It hadn’t been there a moment ago, Elsie was sure of it. Ivy or not, you couldn’t miss something like that.

  The witch stood on the step, her back to the door, a carpet bag in one hand. There was no sign of her usual red cloak; instead she wore a neat grey travelling coat. Her hair was scraped back into a tidy bun. Apart from the red gloves, she looked almost normal.

  ‘Sorry we’re late,’ she said. ‘I was busy making myself look respectable. Do I?’

  ‘Very,’ said Elsie.

  ‘They’re stuffy, where my sister lives. I’m supposed to “blend in”. She tells people I’m a librarian. No problem getting your parents to agree you could stay here?’

  ‘Oh, no. Not really. The till being full of pennies helped. Thank you for that, Miss Sharp.’

  ‘Magenta will do. Come in, I’ll run over the basics of the job with you. I haven’t long. I’m catching the early coach. I’d use a transportation spell, but my sister prefers me to arrive in a conventional manner.’

  Elsie was about to put her foot on the step when Magenta said: ‘Wait. Introductions first. Elsie – Tower. Tower – Elsie.’

  There was a pause. Elsie wasn’t sure what to expect. Thunder? A big, booming voice? Would the tower bend over and shake her hand?

  The door opened. Just quietly opened. No squeak. No fuss.

  ‘Right,’ said Magenta. ‘It seems happy enough. Come on in.’

  Chapter Four

  EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW

  Elsie looked around the tower, taking in her new home for the week. A flight of stone steps wound up into shadow. To her right, a low archway led into a small, cosy kitchen. A rocking chair sat before a fireplace where a cauldron hung suspended. There was a table with two more chairs, a stove and a sink. Shelves and cupboards lined the walls. Herbs hung from hooks in the rafters. A clock ticked on the wall. One corner was given over to a wooden perch, on which hunched a large black raven.

  Elsie knew nothing about birds, but this one didn’t look friendly.

  ‘This is Corbett,’ said Magenta. ‘Corbett, meet Elsie.’

  The raven raised his head and stared. Despite only having two eyes and a beak to work with, somehow he managed to arrange them into a sneer. Then he turned his back.

  ‘Sulking,’ explained Magenta. ‘In a strop because he can’t come with me.’

  ‘Oh, is that right? I don’t think so!’ came a hoarse rasp from the perch.

  ‘Yes, you are!’

  ‘Oh!’ Elsie was startled. ‘You didn’t mention that he talked.’

  ‘All the time.’ Magenta sniffed. ‘He’s got opinions on everything. That’s right, Corbett, you carry on sulking, at least it means you’re quiet.’ She turned to Elsie. ‘I’ve tried spells to shut him up but the tower overrides them. It’s one of the Ancient Rules.’

  ‘Shut Thou Not the Raven’s Beak. Ravens Have the Right To Speak,’ quoted Corbett.

  Elsie wasn’t sure, but she thought she felt the slightest of vibrations from the surrounding walls.

  ‘He can’t leave the tower, you see,’ went on Magenta. ‘That’s another rule.’

  ‘Bad Luck Will Come to Stay Should the Raven Fly Away,’ recited Corbett, adding, ‘So be warned. If I go, you’re in deep trouble.’ Again there came that faint vibration. ‘See? The tower agrees.’

  ‘Oh, stop your doomy nonsense,’ snapped Magenta. ‘Ignore him, Elsie. Moody old misery.’

  ‘I’m sure we’ll get on fine,’ said Elsie.

  ‘I doubt it,’ said Corbett.

  ‘We will if you want fresh water,’ said Elsie. ‘I hear you can’t work the tap.’

  Corbett mumbled something under his breath which sounded a lot like: ‘May pigeons poop on your silly head!’ Then he put his head under a wing and pretended to go to sleep.

  ‘Now,’ said Magenta briskly, ‘I can’t stop to show you round. You’ll have plenty of time to explore. But don’t worry, I’m leaving you a book. It’s all in there. How things work. Where things are. What to do in an emergency. Not that there will be one.’

  She opened a drawer and took out a square, thick book with a red cover. Written on the front in bold, black capitals were the words: With a certain amount of pride, she placed it on the table.

  ‘I was up all night writing it. I think you’ll find it very useful.’
She pointed to a ring of keys on a hook. ‘Keys for all the rooms. Make sure all the doors are locked at night and when you go out. Any questions?’

  ‘One thing,’ said Elsie. ‘The tower. I couldn’t help noticing, it . . . well . . . it wasn’t there. And then it . . . was.’

  ‘Yes. We like to move around from time to time. When the neighbours get annoying, or if we don’t want to be found.’

  Elsie thought about this.

  ‘It won’t move by itself, will it?’ she asked. ‘While I’m asleep, or something?’

  ‘No. I’ve set it to long-term parking. Any more questions?’

  Elsie had plenty, but Magenta was clearly in a hurry, so she contented herself by saying: ‘You have neighbours?’

  ‘I do. I wouldn’t advise inviting them in as they tend to outstay their welcome. Especially not the Howler Sisters. They’re light-fingered.’

  ‘Right,’ said Elsie, nodding. ‘No Howlers allowed.’

  ‘The woodcutter will be along tomorrow to cut more logs for the fire. His name’s Hank. If you get cold, the log pile is out the back, next to the privy. I pay him sixpence. There’s loose change in the jar on the mantelpiece.’

  ‘Got it,’ said Elsie.

  ‘Then there’s Aggie Wiggins – or Sylphine Greenmantle, as she’s started calling herself. She dresses like a wood sprite, usually got some wretched animal in tow, so you’ll know her as soon as you see her.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Elsie. ‘Um – why does she dress like a wood sprite?’

  ‘She thinks she looks romantic. Ridiculous, but you can’t tell some people. Wherever Hank goes, she’s not far behind, silly soppy girl. But it’s all in the book. Plenty more reading matter up in the office. Help yourself. Right, I’m off. See you in seven days, if I last that long.’

  Magenta marched to the door and picked up her bag.

  ‘Have a lovely time,’ said Elsie.

  ‘We’ll see. Don’t let the dog in unless he’s had a bath.’

  ‘What dog?’

  ‘The one hiding under a bush, hoping for half a sausage. Goodbye, then. Have a nice, quiet time.’

  And with that, she vanished. One moment there, the next, gone.

  Elsie stared out at the trees.

  ‘How?’ she muttered. ‘How does she do that?’

  A breeze blew through the treetops. A faint voice replied: ‘I have a spell for that . . .’

  Chapter Five

  TAILS

  ‘Come out, Nuisance,’ called Elsie. ‘I know you’re there.’

  The dog came lolloping from the undergrowth, his coat a matted mass of burrs, leaves and twigs.

  ‘Wait there,’ said Elsie. ‘I’ll see what there is to eat.’

  Corbett’s unfriendly black eyes followed her as she crossed the kitchen and began opening cupboards.

  ‘Tall door next to the sink,’ he growled.

  ‘Oh, good,’ said Elsie. ‘You’re speaking now, are you?’

  ‘Anything to stop you banging about. Making my head ache.’

  Elsie opened the larder door and gasped. She had never seen so much food! Eggs, ham, cheese, tomatoes, a loaf of bread, biscuits, a jug of fresh milk, apples – everything she loved! Plus a cake! A beautiful iced cake, with a pink ribbon!

  She filled a bowl with water, took a biscuit, went to the door and set them down on the outside step.

  ‘Here. I’ll cut you some cheese later.’

  Nuisance downed the biscuit in one and thirstily lapped at the water, then flopped on the ground and scratched happily at his fleas.

  Elsie went back inside and helped herself to an apple and a glass of milk.

  ‘Anything for you?’ she asked Corbett. ‘Biscuit? Breadcrumbs? How’s your water dish?’

  ‘My water dish is fine. And I only consume natural food. Insects. Worms. Bread’s for common pigeons who don’t know any better.’ Corbett paused for a moment, then burst out, ‘We don’t need you here, you know. Me and the tower. We’re quite capable of managing on our own!’

  ‘Of course you are,’ said Elsie soothingly. (Customer Service Rule Six: Use a Soothing Tone with Tricky Customers.) ‘It’s just the water thing, I suppose.’

  ‘I am completely self-sufficient and I prefer my own company.’

  ‘Well, I won’t bother you,’ said Elsie. ‘I’m looking forward to some peace and quiet too. You get the worms yourself, I take it?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘I thought you couldn’t leave the tower.’

  ‘I can’t fly away. Meaning long distance. I can go for short, local journeys. Don’t you know anything, girl?’

  ‘No,’ said Elsie. ‘Not yet. But hopefully reading this will help.’ She walked to the table, where Everything You Need to Know waited. She sat down, took a bite of apple and a sip of milk.

  ‘May penguins peck your mother! They’re here already,’ Corbett groaned before she could even open the book.

  ‘What? Who?’ Elsie asked.

  ‘The Howlers. Get rid of ’em.’

  ‘Cooo-eee!’ called a voice from the doorway. ‘Anybody in?’

  Elsie went to the door and saw two little old ladies smiling up at her. One wore a blue dress, the other pink, but apart from that they were identical, both with tight grey curls and kindly faces. They had matching parasols and carried a basket each. Elsie thought they looked sweet and harmless. Like perfect grandmothers.

  Nuisance didn’t think so. He was sitting bolt upright on the step, growling and showing the whites of his eyes.

  ‘Can I help you?’ asked Elsie.

  ‘Is Magenta there, dear?’ asked the one in blue.

  ‘No, I’m afraid not. She’s away for a few days.’

  ‘Oh? She didn’t say, did she, Ada?’

  ‘No, Evie,’ said the pink one. ‘Not a word.’

  ‘I’m Elsie. I’m looking after things while she’s away.’

  ‘Well, dear, we’re good friends of Magenta’s,’ said Evie. ‘Can we come in?’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s not a good time. I’ve just arrived, you see.’

  ‘We won’t stay long, dear,’ said Ada. She stared at Nuisance, who bared his teeth. ‘If you could just get the nice doggy to move.’

  ‘Perhaps another time,’ said Elsie. ‘Right now, I’m rather busy, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Well, maybe we can help, dear. We’re very good at unpacking,’ said Evie.

  There came a sudden, hoarse squawk from the kitchen.

  ‘Oi! Girl! Get in here! Something’s burning!’

  ‘Sorry, got to go!’ said Elsie.

  ‘That’s a shame,’ said Ada. ‘Tomorrow, maybe?’

  ‘Maybe,’ said Elsie. ‘Thank you for calling.’

  ‘You’re welcome, dear,’ they chorused.

  Arm in arm, the sisters turned and walked away.

  Elsie gasped as she saw what was protruding from slits in the back of each of their skirts . . .

  Chapter Six

  SYLPHINE

  ‘Tails!’ said Elsie, coming back to the kitchen. ‘They’ve got tails. They wagged!’

  ‘Yes,’ said Corbett. ‘Extra feature, all part of their charm.’

  ‘Thanks for rescuing me, by the way.’

  ‘You were letting the draught in. Go to the window. See what they do now.’

  Elsie moved to the window. There was no sign of the sisters.

  ‘They’ve gone,’ she said.

  ‘Keep watching.’

  Elsie did as he said and a moment later, the sisters emerged from somewhere behind the tower. Their baskets were heaped to the brim with firewood. Moving surprisingly quickly, they scuttled off into the trees, tails swishing.

  ‘See?’ said Corbett. ‘Never leave empty-handed. Take anything that’s not nailed down. Now listen.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Just listen.’

  From somewhere in the distance, there arose two sudden, spine-chilling howls, sounding like hungry wolves on a winter’s night.

  ‘Goodness!’
said Elsie. ‘Is that them?’

  ‘Yep,’ said Corbett. ‘Celebrating their swag.’

  Elsie was just about to sit back down when there came a timid knock at the door.

  ‘Parrot piddle!’ sighed Corbett. ‘What now?’

  This time when Elsie opened the door she was faced with a slightly large girl who wore a flowing green gown. Frizzy brown hair hung down her back. Unwisely, she’d added a tiara of daisies. In her plump, pink arms was a resentful-looking white rabbit.

  Ah. Aggie Wiggins, who dresses like a wood sprite, thought Elsie. It has to be.

  Nuisance eyed the rabbit with interest but stayed where he was, clearly deciding against action. He had been promised cheese later. You didn’t have to chase cheese.

  ‘Hello,’ said Elsie. ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘Oh,’ said the girl. ‘Isn’t Miss Magenta in?’

  ‘She’s away. I’m Elsie, the caretaker.’

  ‘I was wondering . . . is Hank coming today, by any chance?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Elsie. ‘Magenta said he would be here tomorrow.’

  The girl’s face crumpled.

  ‘Yes, but I thought – I hoped – oh, it doesn’t matter. Stop it, Muffin!’

  The rabbit was kicking and struggling to get away.

  Elsie reached out to stroke the rabbit. It scrabbled crazily and made a lunge for freedom over the girl’s shoulder. One of its legs became tangled in her ridiculous hair, causing the daisy chain tiara to slip over one eye, giving her a rather piratical look.

  ‘Stand still,’ said Elsie. ‘Let me untangle you.’ She reached up, unhitched the leg and straightened the daisies. ‘There. That’s better.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said the girl miserably. ‘I’m Sylphine Greenmantle.’

  ‘Nice to meet you, Sylphine,’ said Elsie.

  ‘When is she back? Miss Magenta?’

  ‘In a week.’

  ‘But she said . . . oh, never mind.’

  Abruptly, she wheeled away. But Nuisance was in the way, as usual, and she tripped over him, falling clumsily on her hands and knees. The rabbit shot off into the bushes. With a sob, Sylphine picked herself up and stumbled after it.