Witch for a Week

by Kaye Umansky

  Elsie stared at her. ‘I can’t make it. I’m not a witch.’

  ‘But the label says “Use Immediately”.’

  Elsie shook her head. ‘I’m just the caretaker. Spells and magic are not in the deal.’

  ‘How hard can it be?’ Sylphine wailed. ‘All you have to do is follow a recipe!’

  ‘I haven’t got a recipe.’

  ‘Yes, you have,’ said Corbett. ‘Top shelf on the right. Everyday Recipes for the Practical Witch. Love Potion. Page ninety-two.’

  ‘Corbett,’ said Elsie, ‘whose side are you on? I’ve had no time to myself since I woke up. I haven’t washed, unpacked, or cleaned my teeth. I haven’t had breakfast or fed Nuisance. I haven’t even opened a book. Nothing you or anyone can say will make me mess about with magic. And that’s my final word.’

  Chapter Nine

  LOVE POTION

  ‘How many Raindrops on Roses did you say?’

  ‘Three heaped tablespoons,’ said Corbett.

  Moonlight streamed through the kitchen window. Elsie stood over the simmering cauldron, measuring out ingredients. Corbett perched on the table, reading out instructions from a large tattered book.

  Elsie hadn’t intended to do it. She had held out for ages, even when Sylphine had run off in floods of tears. Even when Joey had offered to return at the end of his round and help. Even when Corbett had warned her that ‘Use Immediately’ usually meant use immediately. She had washed, visited the privy, and made herself and Nuisance some late breakfast, all the while ignoring the ingredients for the potion, which stood in a great, hopeful cluster by the sink. Finally, she had sat down and opened Everything You Need to Know. This was the first chance she’d had to look at it and she was deeply curious.

  There was only one page. One single white page.

  Which was blank.

  Elsie shut the cover. Again, the book seemed thick. She opened it again. Just the one page . . . What was going on?

  ‘Put your thumb on it,’ said Corbett.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Press your thumb on the page and say what’s on your mind.’

  Feeling rather silly, Elsie put her thumb on the page and said: ‘Erm . . . we seem to have run out of cake?’

  To her amazement, the page was suddenly filled with large black capitals.

  TO ORDER FOOD ITEMS, KNOCK THREE TIMES ON THE LARDER STATING YOUR REQUIREMENT. THE TOWER WILL PROVIDE SAID ITEMS IMMEDIATELY. REMEMBER TO SAY PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

  ‘Oh, my,’ said Elsie. ‘How useful.’

  She walked to the larder door and rapped three times.

  ‘Right. Ahem. Excuse me? Tower, could we have another cake, please?’

  When she opened the door, a large cake sat on the middle shelf. Chocolate this time, with cherries on top. It had worked! This was magic she approved of.

  She thanked the tower and thought she got a faint, friendly little quiver of acknowledgement in return.

  The love potion ingredients were still there, though. Lurking in the corner. Spoiling her day. It felt like having lots of accusing eyes boring into her back.

  Elsie threw a towel over them.

  She spent the entire afternoon outside, trying to make Nuisance look less like a bush and more like a dog. She found a comb in a drawer and gently combed out his tangles. Corbett condescended to help by picking out burrs and twigs with his beak. Nuisance had borne it bravely, only giving the occasional yelp when it all got too much.

  Then Elsie had discovered an old tin tub hanging on a nail in the privy. So she lit the fire, boiled up six cauldrons of water, took some soap and a towel from the kitchen, picked Nuisance up and plonked him in.

  He loved it! He splashed about happily for a good hour, and licked Elsie’s face in gratitude when she finally hoisted him out and wrapped him in the towel. Underneath all the filth, he was quite handsome!

  But he wouldn’t come indoors. He just flopped on the doorstep, resting his head on his newly washed paws. Elsie sat down next to him for a while, watching the bats fly and enjoying the peace. Corbett perched on her shoulder, snapping at mosquitoes and shouting rude remarks to owls.

  The light was fading when she finally went back inside. The towel she’d used to cover the ingredients was on the floor. Several of the jars on the draining board had popped their lids. Angry fizzing noises were coming from the bottles. The bag of Pixie Mix had exploded, showering the sink with purplish dust. More pink hearts were oozing from their jar.

  ‘You’ve got to do it,’ said Corbett urgently. ‘Right now. Everything’s unstable.’

  ‘But it’s getting late! It’s almost dark outside.’

  ‘Magic works best at night. Come on. I’ll give you a claw.’

  And that’s how Elsie ended up in the candlelit kitchen, doing what she’d insisted she would never do. Messing about with magic.

  A rosy fire glowed beneath the cauldron, which was giving off a delicious, sugary smell. The potion itself was rainbow coloured. Every time a new ingredient was added, it changed. Little pink hearts bubbled up from the surface and bobbed merrily about the rafters, catching the candlelight.

  ‘What next?’ asked Elsie.

  ‘Ten drops of Moon Mist.’

  ‘Right. Done. That’s Raindrops on Roses, Honeysuckle, Mermaid’s Dream, Sugar Candy, Rainbow Dust, All-Things-Nice Spice and the rest of those perishing Love Hearts. Anything else?’

  ‘A Maiden’s Tears.’

  Elsie examined the bottles. ‘I don’t see those.’

  ‘They don’t come in bottles. You’ll need Sylphine’s own silly tears. Here, use this.’

  Corbett flapped to the table and picked up a sodden hanky with his beak.

  ‘She blew her nose on that,’ said Elsie. ‘It’s all snotty.’

  ‘Plenty of tears there, though.’

  ‘But won’t it spoil it, having snot in?’

  ‘Who cares? We won’t be drinking it.’ Corbett flapped to the cauldron and dropped it in. ‘There. It’ll all come out in the wash.’

  ‘That’s it? Are we done?’

  ‘That’s it. Just let it simmer. Tomorrow, when it’s cold, pour it into the bucket under the sink and leave it to ferment.’

  ‘How long for?’

  ‘The recipe says three days.’

  ‘Excellent!’ said Elsie.

  She could forget about it for three whole days. She had paid Hank. She had sorted out Nuisance. She had given out tea, cake and sympathy to Sylphine. She had ordered another cake. She had even written a note to her mum and dad to let them know she was okay, which Joey had promised to deliver.

  Which meant that now she would have some time to herself.

  The bookshelf in her bedroom was still empty. Tomorrow, perhaps, everyone would leave her alone so that she could finally sit down and read.

  Chapter Ten

  THREE WONDERFUL DAYS

  The next three days were wonderful.

  Elsie spent the first morning in Magenta’s office. She brought up a huge bundle of complaining letters from the kitchen drawer and placed them carefully on the cluttered desk. Then she backed away on tiptoe, for fear of causing a landslide. Next, she turned her attention to the crowded shelves of books.

  There were so many to choose from. Some were in different languages. Some were full of weird diagrams. Most were falling apart. There were old books of fairy stories, with strange pictures, which were tempting. But Elsie was looking for something different. Something interesting. The sort of book they didn’t stock in the Smallbridge library.

  Her eyes kept falling on a small book entitled Three Little Spells for Beginners.

  No, she thought to herself. Don’t get sucked in. You’ve already made a love potion against your better judgement. Leave it at that.

  Firmly, she moved on past.

  Ten minutes later, she went back again and took it from the shelf.

  ‘Baby stuff,’ scoffed Corbett, when she showed him. ‘Anyway, I thought you wanted nothing to do with magic.’


  ‘I don’t,’ said Elsie. ‘I was just a bit curious. I’ll put it back and find something else.’

  But she didn’t.

  She took the book into her bedroom, sat on her bed and began to read.

  The first spell was making an egg appear from thin air. Carefully, she read the instructions. Apparently, it was just a matter of moving your fingers in a certain way, crossing your left leg over your right one and chanting a simple rhyme.

  OVER THE LEG,

  GIVE ME AN EGG!

  A brown speckled egg materialized in the air and plopped gently into her lap. Simple!

  Encouraged, Elsie practised making more eggs appear. The more she tried, the better she got, and soon she found she could order them singly or in a shower. She could even have them hard-boiled if she liked. It was just a matter of extra finger twiddles and small adjustments to the rhyme.

  CROSS MY LUCKY LEGS,

  GIVE ME HARD-BOILED EGGS!

  Down they came out of nowhere, plopping onto her bed and rolling around the floor. When there were eggs everywhere and it all got a bit silly, she found she could make them disappear with a snap of the fingers and saying the rhyme backward.

  SSORC YM YKCUL SGEL.

  EVIG EM DRAH-DELIOB SGGE!

  Nothing to it.

  She felt absurdly pleased with herself. What was it Magenta had said about having the knack for magic?

  She saved one of the eggs and ate it for lunch, along with a piece of chocolate cake.

  She wanted to show the spell to Corbett, but he’d gone for a walk with Nuisance.

  After lunch, she investigated the Spelloscope on the roof terrace. Just like Corbett had told her, when the magic button was pressed you could see whomever you liked. But not only that, you could hear what they were saying! Elsie spent the whole afternoon curiously observing her new neighbours.

  First she zoomed in on the woodcutters’ camp and watched Hank lounging in a hammock seeing to his hair while the other woodcutters did all the work – cooking, sharpening their axes and washing their socks in a wooden tub. Their names, Elsie learned, were Ed, Ted, Fred, Jed, Ned and Short Shawn. All of them were muscular, as woodsmen should be, but none of them were as muscular as Hank, who they clearly held in great awe. They brought him chicken drumsticks, asked if he wanted a cushion, or a drink, or anyone to hold the mirror. They even helped dry his hair, which he apparently washed on a daily basis. Elsie knew this because there was a chart hanging on a tree headed HARE ROTER with a list of days and names. Hanging from the same tree was a fluffy towel and a bottle of special shampoo with Hank’s name on.

  Next Elsie spied on Sylphine, who lived in a tiny untidy cottage with a thatched roof. Somebody must have told her that, as well as wearing weird, wafty dresses and dancing barefoot under the moon, wood sprites were known for having hordes of adoring animals following them everywhere. Consequently, her garden was full of stuff designed to tempt in the local wildlife. Bird feeders, hedgehog hotels, bird baths, a small pond, and lots of little notices everywhere reading: COME IN, ALL WELCOME, DEER SCRATCHING POST, SQUIRREL SANCTUARY, FOXES DRINK HERE! and suchlike. Sadly, whilst the local wildlife was happy to make use of the facilities, adoring Sylphine wasn’t on the agenda. They ate the food provided, scratched on the post, bathed and drank their fill whenever Sylphine was asleep or out. Whenever she made an appearance, they all flapped, galloped, loped or melted away just in case they were unlucky enough to get caught by her and taken on as her latest ‘pet’.

  Thankfully, Elsie didn’t see Sylphine dancing barefoot in a glade. She was clearly too depressed about Hank.

  Elsie tried spying on the Howler Sisters, but it didn’t work. All she got was a view of the full moon in the night sky, although it was still broad daylight. It seemed that where and how the Howlers lived was a mystery.

  When she tried getting through to the Emporium, the tower gave a disapproving little shiver and the Spelloscope refused to show anything but trees and sky. It was as though the magic had run out.

  She asked Corbett about it as she sat down to eat her tea.

  ‘Against the Ancient Rules,’ he explained. ‘Never try too far to see. What will be is what will be.’

  ‘That’s a terrible rhyme,’ said Elsie, ‘but I suppose it makes sense. Whatever’s happening at home, I can’t do anything about it. Right, Tower?’

  She waited for a little tremor of agreement, which didn’t come. Maybe it didn’t like its rhyme being criticized.

  After she had finished tea, washed up and watered and fed Corbett and Nuisance, Elsie put Everything You Need to Know on the kitchen table, keen to ask it some more questions. She spent a long time pressing her thumb on the blank white page, asking questions and enjoying the novelty of seeing the answers swim into view.

  Practical things like:

  ‘Where do I put the rubbish?’

  BACK OF THE PRIVY BY THE WOODPILE.

  Interesting things like:

  ‘Does the tower really have an ancient rule about ravens never doing the washing up?’

  NO. HE’S LYING.

  Silly things like:

  ‘Are there fairies at the bottom of the garden?’

  DON’T WASTE MY TIME.

  She asked what to do in an emergency. The words came up:

  CONTACT ME ON THE CRYSTAL BALL IN THE OFFICE.

  She read this out to Corbett.

  ‘Did she give the password?’ he asked.

  ‘Password? No.’

  ‘Pointless, then. You’ll just have to cope if there’s a problem. Lucky you’ve got me.’

  ‘It is,’ said Elsie. And it was. Grumpy though he was, she enjoyed Corbett’s company. It was nice to have someone to chat to. Because as much as she was enjoying life at the tower, she found she was missing her family and all the hustle and bustle that came from living on top of each other. Despite his healthy worm-and-bug diet, she found that Corbett was partial to cake. Between them, they got through a lot of it.

  When she went to bed, she discovered her bedroom drawers now contained a brush and comb, and blue and yellow ribbons for her hair. There was also a blue nightgown, decorated with little yellow moons. Plus a hand mirror that made her look better than usual.

  That night, she dreamed of skipping over sunlit hills in blue dancing shoes, and cleverly juggling eggs.

  Outside in the forest, the moon sailed high over the trees. Nuisance, fast asleep on the doorstep, snuffled happily in his sleep.

  Under the kitchen sink, the potion fermented.

  On the second morning, Elsie put on one of the new dresses Magenta had left for her – it fitted perfectly, as she had known it would – and changed into the new boots. Feeling the need for some fresh air, after breakfast, she carefully locked all the rooms, double locked the front door and took Nuisance for a long walk. Corbett came along too, riding on her shoulder and shouting insults at wood pigeons. This time, Elsie did pick some bluebells. The forest didn’t seem so threatening any more. Once you lived somewhere, you began to see its nice side. She was beginning to feel she belonged.

  She spent most of the afternoon in her room with Three Little Spells for Beginners. She produced some more eggs from the air. No trouble. Eggs were easy.

  Elsie moved on to spell two. A storm in a teacup.

  After a few failures (hurrying too much and getting the finger shapes wrong) she managed to produce a perfect little storm, with tiny flashes of lightning and sweet little rumbles of thunder. A small rain cloud hovered above the cup’s rim. The tea splashed about, like a miniature brown sea.

  She learned that if you added sugar, you could make it hail!

  Next, she worked on making the storm come out of the cup. The instructions were to throw your arms up, move your fingers a certain way and say:

  UP, UP! OUT OF THE CUP!

  With a slurping noise, the tiny black cloud sucked up the tea. It then shot up, massively increasing in size, boiling around the ceiling before unleashing a deluge of tepid brow
n liquid that instantly soaked Elsie’s bed. The tiny lightning bolts merged into one massive one that stabbed down, leaving the wardrobe with a nasty charred mark. The accompanying clap of thunder nearly burst her eardrums in such a confined space. Down in the kitchen, Corbett fell off his perch. Elsie decided it was probably not a good idea to practise that one indoors.

  She was pleased with herself, though. Could it really be that she was one of those people who had the knack? She asked Corbett.

  ‘Well, obviously,’ said Corbett, cleaning his feathers with his beak. ‘Why else do you think Magenta chose you?’

  ‘She didn’t choose me,’ said Elsie. ‘It just happened that way.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Corbett.

  Early that evening, the Howlers came to call. Elsie knew before they even arrived, because Nuisance, who still refused to come into the tower, started barking like crazy, going into fierce guard dog mode.

  ‘Bald buzzards with knobs on, they’re back,’ sighed Corbett.

  The two little figures – one blue, one pink – hovered at the edge of the glade.

  ‘Hello, Elsie, dear,’ called Ada, waving her parasol. ‘Can you call your dog off?’

  ‘We’d love to pop in, if it’s convenient,’ called Evie.

  ‘Sorry,’ shouted Elsie. ‘I’m a bit busy.’ Firmly, she shut the door.

  A moment later, two howls resounded throughout the treetops.

  ‘That’s another bucket gone from the privy, I reckon,’ said Corbett, and he was right.

  Shortly after that, Joey popped in with another bundle of complaints. He and Corbett did the usual claw/hand greeting, then Joey hopped onto the table.