The Worst Witch and the Wishing Star

by Jill Murphy

  It was odd being the only one out in the deserted corridors. Every now and then one of the pupils’ black cats came slinking past on its way back to its owner’s room after a night’s hunting.

  Most of the cats stayed out all night and Tabby was unusual in spending the whole night on Mildred’s bed. He stayed in as much as possible because the other cats bullied him.

  ‘Poor Tab,’ thought Mildred as she doused the large lantern above the main door, pulled back the bolts and stepped out into the playground. ‘No wonder he’s scared of our little newcomer.’

  Mildred hovered up over the gates, doused the candles and landed behind the high wall out of sight of the windows in case anyone was looking. She just knew Miss Hardbroom would be on the prowl and that she needed to be extremely careful if she was going to keep her new pet a secret.

  Mildred opened the holdall, lifted Star out and emptied the bowl of dried catfood that she had brought for his breakfast on to the grass.

  The little dog bolted it down in seconds and wagged his tail gratefully. He had been lost in the woods for a long time and his previous owner had not been kind to him, and he could see that Mildred was the owner he had dreamed of. He was as bright as the wishing star he was named after and was determined to make his new mistress proud, bearing it bravely when Mildred produced a flask of water, flannel and a bar of soap, and gave him a thorough wash.

  Mildred had been right to keep an eye out for Miss Hardbroom, who was at that very moment in the staffroom, watching Mildred’s progress from the window.

  She turned as the staffroom door opened and Miss Drill came in, clad in a purple and dark green zigzag striped dress with a rather garish lime-green cardigan. Miss Hardbroom winced.

  ‘Oh, good morning, Miss Hardbroom,’ said Miss Drill. ‘I thought I was the first one up.’

  ‘It seems that Mildred Hubble is the first one up today,’ said Miss Hardbroom. ‘She’s even beaten Ethel and Drusilla, who are still toiling round the East Wing. I have to admit,’ she added grudgingly, ‘she really does seem to be taking her duties seriously. I checked the lanterns last night and they were burning brightly, with all the lantern doors completely closed. It seems that being in a fine old establishment like Miss Cackle’s Academy has finally rubbed off on our young misfit.’

  ‘Well, I’ve had no trouble from her,’ said Miss Drill. ‘Would you like a nice cup of tea, Miss Hardbroom?’

  ‘That would be just the ticket, Miss Drill,’ said Miss Hardbroom, feeling somewhat relieved that the term had got off to such a calm and orderly start. ‘Well, Miss Drill, we’d better sit down and work out a way to find the perfect “act”, for want of a better word, to give us a good chance of actually winning this competition.’

  Mildred was still outside the gates. She had taken Star for a walk through the trees, keeping close to the wall so that no one could possibly see them. It really was an ideal task, being the Lantern Monitor, she reflected, as it meant that she could easily get Star out for a walk in the morning and evening without being seen, and, if Tabby could just pull himself together, the two pets could stay in her room all day and she could train the little dog to hide under the bed if anyone came in. He seemed ultra-trainable and anxious to please and was already very steady on the broomstick. Perhaps she could even teach him a few tricks.

  ‘Come on then, in you hop,’ she said, opening the holdall.

  Star jumped on to the broom and into the bag, flattening himself down helpfully.

  ‘Good boy,’ said Mildred, zipping him in. ‘You really are my little star.’

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  iss Hardbroom decided that each class should come up with ideas for the competition and select the best one with the aid of their form mistresses – the chosen act to be handed in to the staffroom. Miss Hardbroom and Miss Cackle would then consider all the suggestions carefully and post the winner on the downstairs noticeboard at the end of the week.

  Miss Drill’s class was bursting with ideas and Enid’s dance troupe was very popular with her classmates, but totally unpopular with Miss Drill, who knew that it wouldn’t get past Miss Hardbroom’s disapproving eye. In the end, Form Four voted for Ethel’s chanting choir when Miss Drill said that perhaps they could incorporate a small amount of tap-dancing at the same time.

  ‘I just know they’ll choose my idea,’ gloated Ethel, passing Mildred in the corridor as they both started out on their nightly round of lantern-lighting.

  ‘The Grand Wizard’s mad about choral singing so that’s a start and I’ve got such a superb voice – my singing tutor told me that I’m impossible to teach because I’m already at such a high standard – have you got something else in your bag, Mildred? It looks absolutely stuffed.’

  ‘Nope,’ said Mildred briskly, hastening away down the shadowy corridor before Ethel could investigate further. ‘Better get on, or it’ll be dark before we’ve finished.’

  ‘It’s not fair!’ yelled Ethel, stomping into the classroom the next morning after breakfast. ‘They didn’t choose my idea, I can’t believe it!’

  Form Four were busy gathering up their gym kit, ready to set off for a training session, and everyone looked up surprised.

  ‘How do you know, Ethel?’ asked Drusilla.

  ‘I’ve just seen it on the noticeboard,’ snarled Ethel. ‘They’ve chosen Form Five to do a broomstick ballet, called “The Joy of Flying” – huh! What a stupid idea; it’s not exactly original anyway.’

  Despite Ethel’s endless sneeriness towards her, Mildred couldn’t help feeling quite sorry for Ethel. It was so terribly important to her, being first and best at all costs, and Mildred could see how upset she was not to have the chance to win such an important competition.

  Miss Drill strode into the classroom, wearing yet another vibrant outfit. This one was a dress composed of green-lace cobwebs, with a short black and green striped jacket, purple starry stockings and pointed cowboy boots.

  ‘What’s the matter, Ethel?’ she asked sternly. ‘I could hear your voice halfway down the corridor.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss Drill,’ said Ethel, trying to sound humble. ‘I was just disappointed that our class hasn’t been chosen.’

  ‘We’re all disappointed, Ethel,’ said Miss Drill reprovingly. ‘Aren’t we, girls? But you mustn’t be a bad loser, Ethel – everyone knows that losing graciously is just as important as winning in any competition! There are some excellent dancers in Form Five – and that particular class also has some of the best fliers – yes, Ethel, I know you are one of the best in this class but it’s been decided, and you’ll just have to accept that Form Five simply came up with the best idea of all.

  ‘Now then, girls, gather up your kit and hurry down to the cloakroom to change and you can do a spot of broomstick gymnastics to take your minds off your little disappointment. Think of it this way, girls: at least you can get on with your usual studies and tasks while Form Five does all the hard work, then all you have to do is cheer them on with the rest of the school and hope they win! Sounds rather good news if you ask me!’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  t sounded brilliant news to Mildred, who was now free to concentrate on her routine of lantern-lighting and dousing, plus sneaking Star in and out, and working extra hard at her lessons so that she didn’t draw any attention to herself. Everything was going so smoothly that she began to wonder if the wishing star had also been a lucky star, making things start to go right all the time – even Tabby had calmed down gradually as the days passed. It wasn’t long before he realized that Star was no threat at all and one day, when Mildred came up to her room after lessons, she found them both asleep in the holdall under her bed.

  The playground was often so misty first thing that you couldn’t see the gates until you were a few feet away, which made the early dog-walk much easier. One morning when the mist was so thick that it provided perfect cover, Mildred took Star a little further into the pine forest and started to teach him a few tricks on the broomstick. He was a
natural: unafraid, trusting and desperate to please his rescuer, and Mildred found that he would – and could – do anything she asked.

  ‘Wow,’ thought Mildred as she slalomed in and out of the trees with Star leaning into the corners like a pillion rider on a motorbike. ‘If only we could have dogs on our brooms, I’d be the school champion! Even the best cats can’t do anything much except sit there!’

  Every time it was misty, which was most mornings at that time of year, Mildred taught Star some more tricks. He also came up with a few himself, such as standing on his head and doing a back-flip in mid-air that took him above the broom and over the side, with Mildred zooming underneath to catch him.

  Mildred invented a new trick where Star did the usual back-flip with Mildred zooming underneath him. However, this time they started thirty feet up and did several back-flip catches, descending very fast, so that it looked quite graceful, like a tumbling waterfall. Mildred had never had so much fun on a broomstick before.

  After a few weeks of morning Star-training, Mildred became so enthusiastic that she began helping him to practise some of the more complicated routines in her room. At first she was a little worried that Tabby would be jealous, but he didn’t mind at all. He absolutely hated broomstick flying and couldn’t care less about Mildred training anyone else, as long as he still had his place on her pillow at night and lots of cuddles when she was sitting in bed reading.

  Star tactfully slept at the end of the bed on Mildred’s feet or curled into the back of her knees and Tabby often sneaked under the covers into Mildred’s arms, so that she sometimes woke up almost wearing the two of them. On cold nights, Mildred slept better than she had ever done, wrapped in her pets like a furry dressing gown. She had even got used to the clunking bat flap, just as Maud had said she would.

  Mildred hardly saw Maud and Enid at all during the first few weeks. They often called for her, but she was usually off lantern-lighting in the evening when they all had a spare moment, and by the time she was back from dousing the candles in the morning they only had a few minutes for a quick hello before they all dashed off to breakfast.

  One morning Mildred had just zipped Star into the holdall when there was a knock at the door. ‘Who is it?’ asked Mildred nervously.

  The door burst open and there stood Maud and Enid, dressed and ready for the day, holding their broomsticks. ‘Surprise!’ said Maud. ‘We’re coming with you to help, so we can all have half an hour together.’

  ‘Gosh, Mil,’ said Enid, who was holding a large jug and a pair of kitchen scissors. ‘How on earth do you do this every morning and stay so cheerful?’

  ‘I’ve sort of got used to it,’ said Mildred, glancing at the bag. ‘Look, don’t worry about me, I’ll just nip round on my own. I’ll be back in a tick and we can catch up over breakfast.’

  ‘Don’t you like us any more, Mil?’ asked Maud, sounding really hurt. ‘You never ask us into your room these days. Have we done something to upset you?’

  ‘Maud’s right,’ said Enid. ‘It feels as if you’re avoiding both of us. We haven’t had a proper conversation with you since the first day of term.’

  Mildred looked desperately at her two friends, longing to tell them but knowing that they would be horrified. She had been having such fun with Star and it had all been so easy, taking him out on lantern duty and hiding him under the bed. She thought of his sweet scruffy face gazing at her and his warmth during the long freezing nights and didn’t want to risk losing him.

  ‘Don’t be daft!’ said Mildred. ‘Of course I’m not avoiding either of you – I’ve just been busy, but I really will be quicker on my own and –’

  ‘Well, we’re coming with you, whether you like it or not,’ said Maud. ‘Enid’s got to get some foliage for her duty as Flower Monitor, haven’t you, Enid?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Enid. ‘So let’s go.’

  Mildred trailed miserably down the corridors, expertly flipping open the lantern flaps and putting out the candles, followed along by her broomstick and her two friends, and soon they had reached the school gates.

  ‘You really are good at this, Millie,’ said Maud as Mildred hovered expertly up and over the gateposts, deftly extinguishing the last two lanterns on the way.

  They all hovered down and landed on the grass. Mildred led everyone out of sight along the outside of the wall and into the edge of the forest.

  ‘Gosh, Mildred,’ said Enid. ‘What on earth have you got in the bag?’

  Star, who was looking forward to his morning runabout and broomstick fun, was wagging his tail and bustling, making the bag and broomstick jerk about madly.

  Maud and Enid stared at the bag in amazement.

  ‘This is going to surprise you both,’ said Mildred. ‘But it really isn’t as bad as it looks.’

  She unzipped the holdall and Star leapt out like a Jack-in-the-box. He was delighted to meet Mildred’s friends, jumping up to lick their faces, then setting off in mad circles through the trees, overjoyed to be out after his long night in Mildred’s room. Maud and Enid stood with their mouths open, stunned.

  ‘So this is why you’ve been avoiding us!’ gasped Maud. ‘Oh, Mildred! Miss Hardbroom will go insane if she finds out – and you’ve been doing so well this term. What on earth possessed you? Where did you get him from?’

  ‘I didn’t get him from anywhere,’ said Mildred, resting on the back of her hovering broom. ‘He got me! Anyway, it’s your fault, Maudie, you told me to wish on that shooting star and I wished for a dog – and there he was the next day outside the gates. I couldn’t send back a wish-come-true, could I? It wouldn’t be right. And he’s so clever; he can do hundreds of tricks! Look, I’ll show you.’

  She called him over and patted the back of the broom.

  ‘Oh, come on, you two,’ said Mildred. ‘Stop being so grumpy! Just sit there on your brooms and I’ll show you all the things he can do. You’ll soon see why I had to keep him.’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  he three friends made their way back through the silent morning corridors with Star zipped neatly into his holdall and Enid carrying the jug, now full of pine-cone branches and jolly twigs with red berries to brighten up their grey-stone classroom.

  They hurried into Mildred’s room and closed the door behind them. Mildred opened the holdall and Star immediately leapt out and dived under the bed.

  ‘I don’t know what Einstein’s going to say when he wakes up in the spring!’ laughed Mildred. ‘Well then, what did you think of him?’

  ‘He’s incredible, Mildred,’ said Maud, ‘and you’re incredible with him. I’ve never seen you fly like that.’

  ‘He’s like part of you,’ said Enid. ‘Like another arm or leg. I can see why you’re crazy about him – not that it makes things any easier. H.B. will still go mad when she finds out.’

  ‘If she finds out,’ said Mildred, ‘and we aren’t telling anyone, are we?’

  ‘Of course not,’ said Maud. ‘Anyway, you’ve done brilliantly so far – even your best friends didn’t suspect a thing, so maybe you’ll be able to hide him till the end of term. Tell you what, let’s all go and watch Form Five rehearsing for their broomstick ballet at lunchtime. They’re doing the first dress rehearsal in the Great Hall; it’s supposed to be fantastic.’

  ‘That would be so nice,’ said Mildred, feeling a wave of relief that her two best friends were in on her secret. ‘It’ll be great if we win, especially as Form Five are doing all the hard work – at least there’s no way I can mess up someone else’s broomstick display!’

  They all laughed, remembering the now legendary Hallowe’en when they were first-years and Ethel had spitefully lent Mildred a broom with a spell on it, which had wrecked the display. Everything had turned out well in the end, but Mildred still had nightmares about it.

  The broomstick ballet was fantastic. Miss Hardbroom had taken charge of the project with the help of Miss Bat, who was providing a rousing piano accompaniment, and Miss Mould the art
mistress, who had designed some wonderful flowing costumes for the four aerial ballerinas. Each dancer represented different aspects of night flying.

  There was an owl-dancer in magnificent wings and a head-dress made from hand-sewn fluttering silk feathers, two dancers draped in midnight-blue robes sewn with star-shaped sequins, and the principal dancer, who was bedecked in silver and blue to represent moonlight. The dancers were set against a beautiful deep-blue backdrop, with a huge white moon and stars picked out in luminous paint which glowed magically under the candelabras. Every class had worked tirelessly, painting the backdrop and sewing on sequins and feathers, so that the whole school felt involved in their competition entry.

  Mildred, Enid and Maud sat in the front row with a crowd of excited spectators and watched as Form Five performed the first showing of an act which really did express ‘the joy of flying’.

  ‘I think we could actually win with that!’ enthused Maud as they hurried to grab some food before lunch-break was over. ‘It was really beautiful.’

  ‘No it wasn’t,’ said Ethel, who had come up behind them without anyone noticing. ‘Just run-of-the-mill, if you ask me.’

  ‘No one is asking you, Ethel,’ said Mildred. ‘Anyway, you aren’t a judge, thank goodness, so we’ll just have to keep our fingers crossed and leave it up to them. Don’t you want us to win the swimming pool?’