A Witch in a Fix

by Marian Broderick

  For my darling Conall, the most magical of all creatures.

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1. Mrs Cuffy

  2. Anna Teaches a Lesson

  3. Rat in the Classroom!

  4. At Home at Crag Road

  5. The Crystal Ball

  6. Missing Teacher

  7. The Truth Spell

  8. The Magic Box

  9. A Late-Night Conversation

  10. ‘As You Were’

  11. Anna’s Spell

  12. ‘Firm, But Fair’

  About the Author

  Copyright

  1

  MRS CUFFY

  All the teachers at St Munchin’s are really cool. I especially like Mrs Winkle, the head, but I’ve got a good reason for that, as you will see.

  The only one who’s a problem is Mrs Cuffy, my science teacher. Actually she’s more than a problem. I think she hates me. And I’m not mad keen on her either.

  I’m not the only one who feels this way. Mrs Cuffy is the nastiest teacher in the whole school and we’re all scared of her!

  She has long, stringy brown hair just like rats’ tails, and a pointed twitchy nose. And, I swear, she has a straggly black moustache!

  It’s bad luck that we don’t get on, because Mrs Winkle says I’ve got to get good at science. You see, Mrs Winkle knows something about me that very few people know.

  She knows that I, Anna Kelly, am a witch! And the reason she knows this is simple. It’s because Mrs Winkle, as well as being our head teacher, is also a witch!

  Of course I’m only a junior witch – an apprentice. But Mrs Winkle is an expert witch and she is helping to train me.

  She says that science should be one of my best subjects. In fact, she says I can’t be a proper witch without natural science. I need to know all about plants and biology and why things in nature behave the way they do.

  But there’s a problem: it’s boring! I don’t like science experiments out of books. I hate testing whether plants sweat and whether a coin is heavier than a cork in water.

  Instead, I like doing magic experiments that come out of my head! And what I’m really into is a type of magic I can do called ‘shape-shifting’.

  Shape-shifting is fantastic. No books, no test tubes. All you have to do is point at something, concentrate, and make up a magical rhyme. Then the thing you’re pointing at turns into whatever you want, like an animal or vegetable or anything!

  * * *

  So there I was last Monday afternoon, sitting beside my friend Mary in the science lab. I was gazing out of the window – and I was bored out of my tiny, weeny brain.

  I was daydreaming about flying out of the window when suddenly a screech like a banshee shattered my thoughts and my eardrums.

  ‘Anna Kelly!’ shouted Mrs Cuffy. ‘Come to the front this minute!’

  I shot up straight in my seat and met Mrs Cuffy’s beady little black eyes. Mary looked at me sideways.

  ‘You’re for it now,’ she whispered.

  ‘Thanks,’ I said.

  Mrs Cuffy stood at the front of the class with her thin lips curling in disgust. In her hand, she held one corner of a dirty piece of paper, waving it about as if it was an old snotrag. I took a deep breath and dragged myself up to face her.

  ‘And what,’ she shouted, twitching her moustache, ‘do you call this?’

  ‘My homework?’ I said.

  ‘Cheek!’ she snapped. ‘Detention tonight for being cheeky!’

  I gasped. I wasn’t being cheeky! The snotraggy-looking scrap was my homework – it wasn’t my fault it ended up looking like that. My cat Charlie had eaten his dinner off it when I wasn’t looking.

  ‘But Miss,’ I said. ‘It is my homework. Look!’

  I pointed at the untidy squiggles that were meant to be yet another experiment about the effects of vinegar on eggshells. It wasn’t very good, but I’d done my best.

  ‘Anna Kelly,’ said Mrs Cuffy. ‘This is meant to be a simple science experiment about weak acids, not an explosion in a catfood factory! You’ll write it out again after school – twice! Sit down!’

  I trailed back to my desk and sat down. It wasn’t fair. Out of the whole class, she always picked on me – and I was sick of it! Mary squeezed my arm and smiled at me in sympathy. The bell rang for the end of class and everyone leapt out of their seats.

  ‘Freeze!’ shouted Mrs Cuffy, and everyone froze. ‘Mary Maxwell, you will stay behind for smirking at Anna Kelly. The rest of you may all file out in an orderly fashion!’

  Mary’s mouth fell open in shock.

  ‘But I … but I wasn’t smirking!’ she stammered.

  ‘Double detention for cheek!’ shouted Mrs Cuffy. ‘Go and see Mrs Winkle right now, and tell her I sent you!’

  Poor Mary went bright red and her eyes welled with tears as she walked slowly out of the classroom in front of the hushed boys and girls. She was supposed to be in a gym competition tonight, and now she would miss it – all because of rat-faced, whiskery Mrs Cuffy!

  And that was what did it. That was what finally made my blood boil. I’m not proud of it, but there and then I decided to do something drastic. I was going to teach Mrs Cuffy a lesson!

  2

  ANNA TEACHES A LESSON

  I waited until the last person had left the classroom. Mrs Cuffy and I were alone. She plonked herself into her chair and took out a magazine. I shot my hand into the air.

  ‘Miss?’ I said. ‘Please can I come to the front and collect my homework?’

  ‘Too dim to do it from memory, are we?’ said Mrs Cuffy. ‘Very well. But don’t disturb me again – and don’t speak to that little friend of yours when she comes back. I hope Mrs Winkle gives her what for!’

  I pressed my lips together, slipped a pencil into my pocket and crept towards Mrs Cuffy’s desk. I took my fishy-smelling homework from the pile – and dropped it on the floor on purpose.

  ‘Clumsy clot!’ said Mrs Cuffy. Her beady little eyes stared at me for a second and then she went back to reading her magazine.

  I dropped down onto my knees to make her think I was picking up my homework – but really I was quickly drawing a small five-pointed magic star on the floor with my pencil!

  When I’d finished, I stood up and stepped inside the star. I put my hands on my hips, took a deep breath and waited. Mrs Cuffy glanced up at me and glared. Her moustache twitched with irritation.

  ‘Anna Kelly!’ she shouted. ‘What do you think you’re doing, standing there like an idiot? Get back to your seat at once!’

  ‘I will go back to my seat, Mrs Cuffy,’ I said. ‘But not until you promise to let Mary go to gym instead of detention, and say sorry for making her cry!’

  ‘Say sorry!’ spluttered Mrs Cuffy, dropping her magazine in shock. ‘Apologise to a pupil? Me? Are you mad?’

  I squared my shoulders.

  ‘What you did wasn’t fair, Mrs Cuffy,’ I said. ‘And I’m giving you one last chance to make amends!’

  ‘You are giving me a chance?’ said Mrs Cuffy slowly, as if she couldn’t believe her ears. Then she leapt out of her chair.

  ‘How dare you!’ she shouted. ‘I’ve never been spoken to like that in my life!’ She picked up a ruler and advanced towards me.

  I caught my breath. Surely she wasn’t going to clobber me!

  ‘It’s about time you got what we used to call six of the best, my girl!’ she said. ‘Six of the best wallops I can give you!’

  That was going too far. Detention is one thing but even I know that hitting is wrong. It was time for Plan B.

  I planted my two feet firmly in the magic star, pointed my finger at Mrs Cuffy and said the first rhyme that came into my head.
/>   ‘Unkind Cuffy, cruel to kids,

  Watch me put your life on skids!

  Grow a rodent’s tail and paws

  And slink around upon all fours!’

  Straight away I felt the power of magic surging from the floor beneath me. It shot through my legs, into my whole body, and out through the finger that pointed at Mrs Cuffy. A blue flash of light blinded me.

  When the smoke cleared, sitting on the chair where Mrs Cuffy had been, was a large, greasy brown RAT!

  3

  RAT IN THE CLASSROOM!

  The rat – Mrs Cuffy – skittered about on the chair, and I jumped up and down on the spot laughing my head off. This was more like it! Who needed science out of books – or science teachers!

  But about three seconds later, I heard footsteps coming up the hall. Then it hit me. What on earth had I done? And, more importantly, what was I going to do now?

  The footsteps were coming closer. It had to be Mary, already on her way back from Mrs Winkle’s office.

  Now, even though she was my best friend, Mary didn’t know I was a witch. I always kept school and witchcraft separate and never told anyone in case they all treated me like a total weirdo.

  If I let her in, she was bound to ask where Mrs Cuffy was – and then she would see the rat and faint or something …

  ‘Rats! – I mean, blast!’ I whispered, gazing at Mrs Cuffy. She made a furious chattering sound, crossed her little ratty arms, and tapped one foot. Her black eyes glittered at me.

  Quick as I could, I jumped back inside my magic star, pointed at her again and chanted:

  ‘Lose your snout, your tail, your fur,

  And change back into what you were!’

  Nothing happened – except Mrs Cuffy squeaked and chattered even louder. I’d have to think of something else. I rushed to the door and tried to block Mary.

  ‘Mary!’ I said, draping my arm across the doorway. ‘So nice to see you again!’

  ‘Mrs Winkle said I had to do as I was told,’ she said glumly. She looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. ‘I suppose we’d better get on with it, or we’ll be in even more trouble.’

  ‘Good news!’ I said. ‘Mrs Cuffy changed her mind – we’re off the hook!’

  ‘What?’ she said. ‘What do you mean, off the hook?’

  ‘No detention,’ I said. ‘Mrs Cuffy’s busy.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ said Mary, looking confused. ‘It’s not like her to miss a chance to inflict a punishment.’

  ‘Yep,’ I said. ‘After you left, she droned on at me for a while – but then she said we had to go home! Straight away. Right now. Without delay.’

  I could hardly believe how many lies were tripping so easily out of my mouth. Mary tried to peep over my shoulder.

  ‘Is she still in there?’ she whispered.

  ‘Not exactly,’ I said. ‘She had an urgent appointment at the … the vet, and she left in a hurry. Come on, she said we mustn’t hang about!’

  ‘Great!’ said Mary, her face breaking into a broad, dimpled grin. ‘I’ll just get my bag.’

  ‘Get it tomorrow!’ I said. I tried to take Mary’s arm and hurry her down the corridor.

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ said Mary, shoving me out of the way. ‘It’s my gym stuff and it’s just inside the door …’

  Mary stepped through the door. I closed my eyes, put my fingers in my ears and waited. I didn’t have to wait long.

  ‘WAAAAAAHH!! WAAAAAAHH!!!’ screamed Mary, rushing out of the classroom and nearly knocking me over. ‘RATS! Rats! In there! Look!’

  ‘One rat,’ I said, peering around the door. ‘Don’t exaggerate.’

  ‘You knew there was a rat in there?’ said Mary.

  ‘Sure,’ I said, shrugging. ‘It just sort of appeared while you were out. Come on, let’s go.’

  ‘Anna, are you NUTS?’ said Mary. ‘Those things carry diseases and everything! We need to do something!’ she said. ‘I think I’d better take another look.’

  I sighed.

  ‘If you insist,’ I said. We edged back into the classroom.

  On the chair, Mrs Cuffy crouched and glared. She balled one front paw into a fist and shook it at me.

  Mary gasped.

  ‘Is that thing threatening you?’ she said. ‘Are rats even supposed to be able to do that?!’

  No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Mrs Cuffy bared her pointed yellow teeth and reared up on her back legs, screeching and spitting in pure temper. Like a flash, she shot between Mary and me, scampered through the open door and disappeared down the corridor.

  I took a deep breath.

  ‘Friendly animal,’ I said. ‘Can we go now?’

  ‘But, Anna! It’s a dirty old rat!’ said Mary. ‘We need to at least tell Mrs Winkle? Or the caretaker?’

  ‘No need for that,’ I said. I picked up her bag and dragged her down the corridor. ‘Do you want to be here all night and miss gym?’

  That did the trick. Mary Maxwell loved her gym.

  ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she said. ‘Ugh! Rats live in drains and rubbish tips, you know! I saw a programme about it on TV …’

  All the way out of school Mary yakked about rats and mice and cockroaches, but I was only half-listening.

  I was in trouble. If Mrs Winkle found out I was turning her staff into animals, she would probably expel me – she might even strip me of all my witchy powers! My life would be ruined.

  I needed to find a way of turning Cuffy-the-rat back into Cuffy-the-grouchy-science-teacher without Mrs Winkle knowing. And I needed to do it fast!

  4

  AT HOME AT CRAG ROAD

  That evening at home at number 13 Crag Road was very uncomfortable for me. I live with my two aunts, who aren’t witches themselves, but know a lot about witchcraft. They encourage me in my magic studies.

  So as soon as I stepped through the kitchen door, I confessed what I’d done. I was hoping they’d help me.

  Fat chance! Instead of sympathising they scolded me for hours. They were so busy lecturing me, I didn’t even get any tea. The only member of the family who was nice to me was my cat, Charlie!

  ‘But WHY?’ shouted Aunty Grizz for the tenth time. ‘What on earth made you do such a foolish, wicked thing?!’

  ‘Because Mrs Cuffy always picks on me!’ I said. ‘And today she even made Mary cry!’

  ‘Anna, dear, really,’ said Aunty Wormella. ‘It’s still going a little far, don’t you think?’

  ‘She deserved it,’ I mumbled stubbornly. Charlie jumped onto my lap and snuggled down. At least he understood me.

  ‘No one deserves to live life as a rodent!’ shouted Aunty Grizz, thumping the kitchen table. She cast a pained look at an empty cage in a dusty corner of the kitchen. ‘And I should know!’

  It was true, she did know. Once a long time ago, in the days when I didn’t like Aunty Grizz, I turned her into a mouse. I was just beginning to learn I had magic powers – and it was thrilling! But, of course, Aunty Grizz didn’t see it quite like that.

  ‘Do you have any idea what it’s like to look at yourself in the mirror and realise you have big ears, four legs and a tail!’ she shouted. ‘And not in a good way!’

  No, I had to admit, I had no idea how that might feel.

  ‘And for all your talent, you couldn’t change Grizz back, could you, dear,’ said Aunty Wormella, shaking her head. ‘She lived in that cage for weeks, eating nothing but toast crumbs. In the end, we had to call in Mrs Winkle to make her human again.’

  My stomach did a back flip.

  ‘But we can’t call in Mrs Winkle this time!’ I said, panicking. ‘She’ll skin me alive! She’ll expel me! She’ll turn me into something horrible …’

  ‘You’re already something horrible,’ muttered Aunty Grizz, crossing her arms.

  ‘Calm down, you two, calm down,’ said Aunty Wormella. ‘We’ll never solve anything by losing our heads.’

  ‘Hmph!’ said Aunty Grizz. ‘Sounds to me like she lost her head a lon
g time ago. I blame you, Wormella, you’ve always spoiled the child …’

  And off they went into an argument. They always did this. They could never agree on the best way to bring up an orphan witch, and whose fault it was that I was turning out so wayward.

  After about five minutes, I lost patience with the two of them. I took off my shoe and banged the table with it. Charlie jumped off my lap in fright and ran into his basket.

  ‘When you’ve quite finished!’ I said. ‘We still have the small problem of my science teacher skulking around St Munchin’s as a rat! What am I going to do?’

  There was silence in the kitchen. The aunts looked at me and at each other. Aunty Grizz drummed the table with her fingers, while Aunty Wormella hummed a little tune under her breath. Finally Aunty Grizz sat up straight.

  ‘Where is she now?’ she asked.

  ‘Don’t know,’ I said. Then I had an idea.

  ‘That’s what I have to do,’ I said. ‘Find her, coax her out of her hiding place, and turn her back into a human. Mrs Cuffy hasn’t been a rat for very long. With a bit of luck, she won’t remember anything about it.’

  ‘But, Anna, dear,’ Aunty Wormella said. ‘You said you tried to change her back into a human when you were in class, but it didn’t work.’

  I waved my hands about airily.

  ‘The heat of the moment,’ I said. ‘This time I’ll find a really good spell. It’ll be different when I get a chance to work on her properly.’

  ‘And how are you supposed to find her, clever clogs?’ asked Aunty Grizz.

  We all sat scratching our heads and chins for a few silent minutes.

  ‘I know!’ said Aunty Wormella, clicking her fingers. ‘The crystal ball! We haven’t used it for ages! That’ll tell you where she is!’