Caution: Witch In Progress

by Lynne North

  The new chair ran up behind Gertie so fast, it almost knocked her legs from under her. She ended up sat in the middle of the room on it, laughing with glee.

  ‘You’ll need to get used to each other,’ announced Grothilde, looking at Gertie and out of the window at the same time. ‘I think I’ve still got the bruises from first practising with mine.’

  Now Grothilde was here, the party could begin. Ma and Gran had gone to such a lot of trouble over the food so Gertie could have what Gran called ‘a good do.’ There were sandwiches of so many different types, even Bertha said she didn’t know where to begin. She didn’t let her confusion last for long however. She decided to try everything. There was devilled chicken, and round baked potatoes cut in half like small cauldrons filled with cheese and onion. Miniature cauldrons of various spicy dips were surrounded by breadsticks that looked like magic wands, and there were devilled eggs, and Gran’s favourite devil cakes. Plates of biscuits in the shape of broomsticks, and bat shaped ones with currants or chocolate chips for eyes surrounded the centre piece of the table. This was a huge Black Forest Gateau, Gertie’s favourite. It was lit by ten black candles, and looked lovely. With dandelion and burdock, or root cordial, to wash it all down, Gertie thought she had never seen such wonderful party food!

  There was even plenty for Bertha to eat, and that is really saying something. Bertha kept making the excuse of showing everyone her levitation skills by having something rise up off the table and head for her mouth. They were all quite impressed at first, but after a dozen or so demonstrations the novelty began to wear off a bit. Bertha kept doing it anyway. She was enjoying herself too much to stop.

  ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got any witch’s brew for us grown-ups?’ asked Grothilde hopefully, after a while.

  ‘Course we have, you old hag,’ chuckled Gran. Off she went to return with a frothing jug and two empty glasses. ‘Sure you don’t want any?’ she asked Ma. Ma didn’t usually drink brew.

  ‘No thanks,’ replied Ma. ‘I’ll drink root cordial with the girls. Mind you don’t have too much either.’

  Gertie smiled. She knew what Gran was like when she got together with Grothilde.

  ‘As if,’ replied Gran, sounding quite indignant.

  Nevertheless, it wasn’t long before Gran and Grothilde were slurring their words, and laughing at nothing in particular.

  ‘Go on, Batty,’ encouraged Grothilde. ‘Show us your trick again, lass.’

  Gran choked on a devil cake, and almost fell off her chair wailing ‘Batty!!! Haaahaaaaa!’

  Bertha didn’t mind. She giggled too at the two old witches’ infectious laughter.

  Ma and Gertie found themselves laughing along as well. They were not laughing about the silly things that were amusing the tipsy pair, but more at Gran and Grothilde themselves.

  Bertha obliged by showing them her levitation skills again.

  Gertie had noticed her friend eyeing the choc chip bat biscuits, and now the perfect opportunity was offered to her. She was impressed how good Bertha was at her new found skill. The big girl could even get a biscuit to hover while she took repeated bites out of it without having to hold it in her hand. Gertie was most impressed because try as she might, she hadn’t achieved much more than a temporary hover when she tried to levitate anything. She guessed Bertha’s success was based on her obsession with eating. Her friend didn’t have half as much control when trying to levitate objects that were not edible. Gertie wondered if Bertha would have to get a chocolate broomstick in order to learn to levitate it properly.

  The young witch suddenly remembered she was supposed to be telling Grothilde about borage being a good hangover cure. Now was probably a very good time to do so, since Grothilde seemed to be well on her way to causing another.

  ‘I’ve learned something at the Academy I especially want to tell you about, Grothilde,’ said Gertie in all innocence. It never crossed her mind that the old witch might take offence at talk of her many hangovers.

  ‘An’ what’s that then, Gertie luv?’ asked the cross-eyed witch, trying not to giggle uncontrollably again.

  ‘Well, in the protective herbs and spells class, we learned that borage is good to use for hangovers,’ Gertie explained.

  Grothilde stared at Gertie (and at a cobweb in the top corner of the room) for a moment. She then said, ‘Eee, Lass, I manage to get them fine without any help. It usually only takes a few witch’s brews for me.’

  ‘No, what I mean is…’ began Gertie, but was drowned out by Gran’s guffaw. Gran rolled about, wiping her eyes as she wailed.

  ‘What? WHAT?’ asked Grothilde, missing the joke entirely.

  ‘Never mind, Gertie,’ Ma whispered, ‘I’m sure Grothilde will appreciate your advice when she’s in a better frame of mind to listen.’

  Gertie smiled. Grothilde was now laughing as much as Gran again, even though she had no idea why.

  Grothilde must have finally remembered that Gertie had been trying to tell her something about the Academy, because she said, ‘I’ll tell you one thing they’ll probably teach you there, Gertie luv, when you have your broomstick class. They’ll tell you that a good broomstick should be able to stand up on its own. Well, that’s as may be. What I say is that a bloomin’ good broomstick is one that helps you to stand up. Haaaaaaaaaaa!’

  Grothilde nearly fell off her chair laughing at her own wit.

  Gran had tears rolling down her face by now.

  Gertie was so happy. Everything was going right. She was finding classes she enjoyed at the Academy, she was home, and it was her birthday! Gertie decided she liked being ten years old.

  It was late when the party ended and Grothilde finally decided she should be heading home. The fact that the Grimthorpe’s had run out of witch’s brew seemed to add to her decision. Gran went to walk Grothilde home, as no one believed she would find her way there otherwise. It wasn’t far, and she was in no state to ride a broom. Ma said she hoped Gran would find her way back.

  Ma talked with the girls about the Academy and what had been happening in Vile Vale, while they were waiting for Gran’s return. When Gran arrived back, the fresh air seemed to have calmed her down a bit. Bertha was yawning widely as Gran came back in.

  ‘You two girls must be tired,’ said Gran with only a slight slur in her voice. ‘It’s been a busy day for you. Maybe it’s time for your beds. I know I’m ready for mine.’

  ‘Yes, I am tired,’ agreed Gertie. ‘It’s been such a wonderful day though I don’t want it all to end, ever!’

  Ma and Gran smiled. Gertie knew it was so important to them both that she had a good birthday.

  ‘Have you enjoyed yourself too, Bertha?’ Gran asked.

  ‘Oh yes,’ replied Bertha. ‘It’s the best party I’ve ever been to!’

  It’s maybe the only one she’s ever been invited to, thought Gertie. It’s a shame really, but at least Gran is getting on better with her now. It’s funny how being rich can change people’s opinions about you. Gran seemed to find a wealthy Bertha much easier to tolerate than a poor one.

  Gertie kissed Ma and Gran goodnight, then she and Bertha went off to her room. Bertha’s bed creaked and groaned in a complaining sort of way as Bertha clambered into it, but at least it didn’t set off running anywhere. Actually, there probably wasn’t much danger of that, all things being considered. The poor bed seemed to be struggling to stay upright on its legs with Bertha’s weight in it, never mind being able to set off at a gallop. It seemed pretty unlikely to move at all.

  Gertie and Bertha chatted and giggled between themselves about the day and the party. Especially about Gran and Grothilde getting so silly after drinking the witch’s brew. Both girls were tired, but it had all been too exciting for them to go to sleep yet. Before long, they grew more tired, and the talk dwindled. It was then that Gertie began to hear a small voice from the wardrobe.

  ‘I can hear you there. Can I come out?’ It was Bat.

  Gertie didn’t reply.

  �
�I’ll be good.’

  ‘Hush now, Bat, it’s bedtime’ Gertie whispered. Bertha was almost asleep.

  ‘Well, can I come out with you tomorrow?’ Bat persisted.

  Gertie tried ignoring him. He didn’t go away.

  ‘Please?’

  ‘We’ll see, Bat,’ Gertie relented, feeling a bit sorry for the lonely umbrella.

  ‘Really! Honest?’ Bat asked excitedly.

  ‘Only if you learn to behave,’ Gertie said quietly, but in as stern a voice as she could manage.

  ‘Oh I’ll behave. Yes, I can behave,’ promised Bat.

  ‘Okay then, Bat. Just let us sleep now,’ said Gertie feeling sleepy.

  ‘Sure thing!’ agreed the umbrella. ‘Not another word will pass my wooden lips.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Not one. Honest!’

  ‘Okay, Bat. Goodnight.’

  There followed a few moments silence broken only by Bertha’s deep breathing, and Gertie almost fell asleep. Bat’s voice jolted her back from the brink.

  ‘It’s not that I’m ignoring you or anything, or being impolite. It’s just I’m not supposed to be saying another word. Is it okay if I say goodnight back to you though?’

  ‘Yes, that’s alright, Bat,’ said Gertie with a sigh.

  ‘…Goodnight then,’ the umbrella replied.

  ‘Goodnight, Bat.’

  ‘…Sleep tight...’

  ‘BAT!’

  ‘Okay, okay…night.’

  The room was soon filled with Bertha’s snores.

  Gertie thought Bat might be learning to behave at last, even if only a little bit. He didn’t complain about the noise. Not even once. Not loud enough for Gertie to hear anyway.

  Chapter Nineteen

  When Gertie awoke in the morning, it took her a few minutes to remember she was at home. The other bed in the room was the most confusing thing. She soon remembered. Bertha was still asleep, whistling through her teeth. Gertie couldn’t hear any mumbles yet from the wardrobe. What was she going to do about Bat? It was Gertie who had given him a kind of life, so it was unfair to expect him to spend it in the back of a dark wardrobe. But he was so naughty! Still, he seemed he might have learned his lesson last night. Gertie knew she had to give him another chance. Whether she took him back to the Academy with her though was another thing altogether. It all depended on his behaviour today in the Vale. She would see.

  Gertie could hear Ma and Gran talking in the parlour, so she decided to get up. As soon as she started moving about the bedroom, Bat called out.

  ‘You haven’t forgotten your promise, have you?’

  ‘No, I haven’t forgotten, Bat, We’ll go out later.’ Gertie whispered, so not to wake Bertha.

  ‘YIPPEEEEEEEEEEE!’ squealed Bat quite loudly, even through the thick wardrobe door.

  Bertha awoke and looked around with bleary eyes. Recognition of where she was registered on her face, and she smiled at Gertie. ‘Is it breakfast time?’ she asked.

  Gertie didn’t know how Bertha could even think about food after all she had eaten last night. But, that was Bertha. Strange to think she was rich, but she was still the same old Bertha.

  Gertie washed and dressed, then went to check on breakfast for her friend while she got ready. The Grimthorpe’s were not a family for big breakfasts, so Gertie wanted to see what Ma had in the pantry. She wasn’t sure if they would have much to offer Bertha. There was no need to worry, as it happened. Knowing that Bertha was staying, Ma and Gran had stocked up with eggs, bacon, sausages and bread rolls.

  Gertie only wanted a boiled egg and toast, but Bertha made up for that by eating everything put in front of her. She would have also had a go at everything put in front of everyone else too, given half a chance. She did have seconds, of course. Whether Bertha was rich or not, Gran’s expression said she was pleased she wasn’t staying long. Even Gertie admitted to herself they would be eaten out of house and home in a few days.

  Gertie decided to show Bertha around Vile Vale after breakfast. As she had promised, she went to the wardrobe for Bat. The door opened, and Bat stared at Bertha.

  Bertha stared at Bat.

  Gertie could tell the little umbrella was dying to say something, as his tiny wooden lips were quivering. For a while at least, he managed to restrain himself. Gertie was quite impressed. It’s a start, she thought.

  When Bat did speak, it was obvious he had been trying to think what to say in order to get back into Gertie’s good books. It didn’t come out quite as he had planned however.

  ‘Hey, it’s the big girl!’ Bat began. ‘I’m Bat. Nice to meet all of you. Uhm, what I mean is, sorry if I hurt you by calling you Fatso. It was a friendly term though, like you might call me sweetie or something like that.’

  It wasn’t a word Gertie would have used to describe him.

  Unaware of Gertie’s threatening stare, Bat continued digging himself deeper.

  ‘Not that you aren’t fat, because you are. Even you must know that. Gosh, it must be a chore even standing up for someone your size. Anyway, er, er, those rolls of fat really suit you!’

  Bat looked at Gertie for confirmation he was behaving.

  Bertha stared at him, not too sure if she had been insulted again or not. Bat had said it all so quickly, and in such a nice voice.

  Gertie didn’t know what to say. Bat was a very hard act to follow.

  ‘Big is beautiful, eh?’ Bat continued, clearly thinking he was doing well.

  ‘Okay, Bat,’ Gertie interrupted before he disappeared into an even deeper hole. ‘Come on. We’re going to show Bertha around the village.’

  ‘Yeeeeh! Way to go, Bertha!’ shouted Bat with enthusiasm. ‘Sure you can manage a walk?’ he suddenly asked.

  ‘Bat!’ said Gertie.

  ‘Hey, I’m only talking as a concerned friend,’ replied Bat. ‘We don’t want her passing out on us do we? We’d never get her back here.’

  Gertie’s warning look as she held the wardrobe door open made Bat go quiet immediately. He then added ‘I won’t say another word. Boy, are you witches sensitive. Fancy taking offence even when I’m being so friendly!’

  Bat clearly didn’t know what he had done wrong this time.

  Gertie picked him up, and she and Bertha set off to go around the village.

  Bat was full of himself, but not too badly behaved after all. Gertie showed Bertha the pond where Wart usually lived, then took her on a guided tour of Vile Vale. Bat tried to join in, but admitted he didn’t know the sights as well as Gertie. He claimed it was because he usually saw them through a sheet of rain, and in an upside down position.

  Bertha said she thought Vile Vale was wonderful, and genuinely seemed to mean it. Gertie was beginning to realise her friend was pretty easy to please. As long as there were things to eat and people were not being horrid to her, she was quite content.

  Bat called out to passers-by, but not in his usual insulting way surprisingly today.

  ‘Morning!’ he called to Mona ‘Lovely day, eh? Look at me. I’m out for a walk with my friends and it isn’t even raining. How’s that, eh?’

  ‘Guess that’s something to do with Grothilde,’ said Mona to Gertie as she gestured towards Bat. She knew her sister well enough to know that if it was an animated object, Grothilde must have a hand in it somewhere.

  ‘Well, actually,’ replied Gertie, feeling quite proud of Bat for the first time in his short life, ‘I animated my umbrella. It was Grothilde who taught me how though.’

  ‘Thought as much,’ replied Mona, not looking very impressed at all. ‘She’s obsessed with getting things to move. Usually things that by rights should just sit there. I dread her coming to my house. You never know what’s going to be running about when she leaves. Are you going to visit her then, young Gertie, to show her your umbrella? She’ll love it. I don’t think she’s thought of an umbrella yet.’

  ‘Yes. We’re going to call on her to thank her for my wonderful present again, and to see if she’s alright this
morning,’ replied Gertie with a bright smile.

  ‘Why, is she ill?’ asked Mona in concern.

  ‘Oh no,’ replied Gertie. ‘It’s just she was at our house last night, and we had a little party…’

  ‘Right! Say no more,’ interrupted Mona. ‘Drunk again.’

  ‘Well, not really, I didn’t mean that,’ said Gertie in defence of Grothilde.

  ‘Don’t worry, Gertie love. I know you didn’t mean that. I know my sister. She only has to look at a Witch’s Brew to be drunk. I’ve never known anyone like her. Enjoy yourselves then, girls. I must be on my way.’

  ‘Bye, Mona. Thanks. We will,’ replied the young witch.

  ‘Sheeeesh,’ said Bat.

  ‘What?’ asked Gertie.

  ‘She’s an ugly one, isn’t she?’ he replied.

  ‘Bat! What have I told you about behaving!’

  ‘I am behaving,’ said Bat in shock. ‘I didn’t say it to her, did I? Did I say, Boy, you’re an ugly one. Did I?’

  ‘Well, no. But it isn’t nice to even say it to us.’ Gertie replied.

  ‘Why?’ asked the umbrella. ‘It’s true isn’t it?’

  Gertie didn’t know what to say, because it was true.

  ‘See,’ said Bat quietly, quite smug but trying not to push his luck.

  As they approached Grothilde’s, Gertie gave Bat a stern warning.

  ‘Not one word about Grothilde’s wayward eye, Bat, I mean it! Not even, Oh your squiffy eye does suit you. Do you hear me?’

  ‘Okay!’ replied the umbrella. ‘Maybe I won’t talk at all, and then she won’t believe you’ve animated me.’ Bat looked quite hurt at having been warned, when he thought he was being good.

  ‘You,’ said Gertie. ‘Not talk? Impossible.’

  ‘My lips are sealed then,’ retorted Bat.

  ‘Really?’ asked Gertie. She did want to show him to Grothilde actually.

  ‘Mm,’ muttered Bat.

  ‘Not a word?’ asked Gertie.

  Bat shook his wooden head.

  Gertie knew it wouldn’t last. She knocked on Grothilde’s door.

  The old witch was delighted to see them, and ushered them towards her parlour. She didn’t seem any the worse for wear after last night. They hadn’t even reached the parlour before Bat said ‘I know what you mean about the eye.’