by Jana Hunter
Good, aren’t they? My very very best, favourite was:
Lovestruck witch to handsome prince: What do I have to give you to make you kiss me?
Prince: Chloroform!
That one cracked us all up.
Lyndz laughed so much she got the hiccups. “Hic! What a lovely surprise for the handsome prince when he came round!”
“Talking of surprises…” I said. “That reminds me.”
“What?”
“Molly’s in for a massive surprise tonight.”
“What is it?”
“Tell us!”
I giggled. “A huge hairy spider, hiding in her pyjamas.”
“Wicked!”
“Serves her right!”
Frankie put her witch mask back on. (She’d only taken it off so she could eat.) “Heh, heh heh. There came a big spider, that sat down beside her…” she cackled.
“A spider in your pyjamas is so creepy,” shuddered Fliss dramatically. “I’d just die!”
“A spider won’t stop Molly messing up our sleepovers,” Rosie pointed out. Told you Rosie was dead practical and down-to-earth. “We’ve got to do more than that to stop her.”
“Rosie’s right. Molly’s got swimming practice every Saturday ’til the school gala. We’ve got to stop her.”
“We could snip the straps off her swimming costume,” giggled Lyndz, who wouldn’t really hurt a fly.
“Or drain the school pool,” laughed Rosie.
But Frankie was deadly serious. “Why don’t we put a spell on Molly?”
We all stared at her.
“Like what?”
“We could make her so allergic to water she comes out in boils!”
“Er…” I think Frankie was getting a bit carried away with that spooky mask.
“We have to do something, Kenny! Molly’s trying to mess up our whole Sleepover Club.”
Frankie was right about that, and I could see the others agreed. This was serious. If we didn’t put a stop to Molly’s tricks the whole club was in danger.
“We-ell…” I said in the end, “I could gatecrash her swimming session tomorrow.”
“And do what?”
“Just swim.” (Secretly I was hoping to find a way out of putting nasty spells on my sister, even if she did deserve it.) “I’m a better swimmer than Molly and that really makes her mad.”
“Hmmm…” said Frankie.
“I can tell her I’ll be there every Saturday unless she stops trying to ruin our sleepovers.”
“Maybe…”
“They’ll let me into the school pool cos I’m Molly’s sister.”
Frankie thought for a moment longer. “Okay, go to the swimming pool tomorrow…And Kenny?”
“Yeah?”
“Make sure you show Molly who’s boss.”
“Right.”
Next morning I got to Molly’s school bright and early.
Outside it was cold and foggy, but inside the pool had that lovely warm, fuggy, chlorine smell. Mind you, I wasn’t warm enough to jump in yet. Besides, it was so fogged with steam, I couldn’t see Molly at all. So I just stood by the edge, covered in goose pimples, trying to make out one school swimming costume from another.
But that didn’t stop Molly the Monster from coming up behind me and making me jump out of my skin. “What are you doing here?” she snarled.
“Mum said I could.”
“Liar!” Dripping cold water on to me, Molly stuck her big, wet face into mine. “Mum’s already after you for putting that spider in my pyjamas, you little—”
“Oh dear…” I went, all innocent. “Didn’t you like my little Hallowe’en surprise, then?”
Molly turned purple. “Get out of here,” she hissed. “This is my school pool and my swimming practice.”
“You don’t own it. I can swim if I want to…” I began.
Molly’s face was awful. “Go on then,” she snarled. “Swim!”
And she pushed me so hard, I toppled and fell backwards into the pool… splat!
The water hit me across my shoulders like a steel whip and sent shock waves down my body. Down and down I went, gulping and kicking like mad. It was horrible. Horrible and nasty and scary and it seemed to go on forever. It was so bad that when I finally bobbed up, spluttering and gasping for air, I was determined to do one thing.
Beat Molly. As soon as Molly’s team was ready for the three-length race, I got into position in an empty lane. No one even noticed me.
They soon would.
When the swimming instructor blew his whistle, I pushed my feet against the side of the pool with total force, and swam and swam as fast as I could. One two, one two, kick, kick, kick. Dip head, lift-and-gasp, swim, swim, swim. Faster, faster, faster. One length, dive-down touch and turn, swim, swim, swim. One length, two…
From somewhere far off there was a muzzy shouting, but my head seemed like it was in another place and time. I swam and swam, fast, faster, faster.
I cut through the water with my arms, kicking hard with my legs, right on to the end… and made it in second place.
YES!
Second place, beating Molly by one! You should’ve seen her face! The school swimming instructor was dead impressed (even if I wasn’t supposed to be in the race). “What a shame you don’t go to our school,” he smiled, when I’d explained who I was. “We could use someone with your speed.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Now, young lady, will you let us get on with our practice?”
“Yes sir.”
He didn’t seem to mind a bit that I’d joined in their race. In fact he was really nice.
As I made my way to the changing rooms, I felt so mixed up and funny, it was weird. I was proud and worried at the same time. Proud because of coming second and worried because of Molly’s jealousy. But there was one thing I wasn’t mixed up about.
Molly.
She’d come third in the race when I’d come second. And that could only mean one thing.
War.
“Laura! Is that you?”
Uh-oh. Mum didn’t sound best pleased.
“Can’t stop, Mum! I only came to pick up…”
“Laura! Come in here.” Even with a mouthful of roller clips Mum could sound fierce. “I want a word with you, my girl.”
I poked my head round the kitchen door. Phew! Mum was in the middle of doing a glamorous granny’s hair and she’d never tell me off in front of a customer…
Famous last words.
Not only did Mum have a real go at me, but her customer, Mrs Bramley, joined in too. The interfering old granny tut-tutted and nodded ’til every roller on her blue-rinsed head shook.
It was well humiliating.
“Fancy spoiling Molly’s swimming practice! I’m surprised at you, Laura. And as for planting a spider in her pyjamas…” Mum went on and on. She used words like ‘sneaky’ and ‘mean’ and, worst of all, ‘disappointed’. My mum can make ‘disappointed’ sound the ugliest word in the world.
Then she dropped her bombshell.
“So you can forget sleepovers here.”
“WHAT?!”
“Anyone who can wilfully spoil her sister’s sleepover doesn’t deserve to have her own!” Mum jabbed a roller clip into Mrs Bramley’s scalp so hard, the glamorous old granny flinched.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry, Mrs Bramley.”
“Mum, you can’t stop sleepovers!” I began.
“Oh, can’t I?”
“In my day we did what our mothers said…” Mrs Bramley muttered, rubbing her sore head.
“Please, Mu-um! Please, please, pleeease…”
“One more word and I’ll get all sleepovers banned,” warned Mum. “Molly said it, and the more I think about it, the more I see her point…”
“S-said what?”
“That it’s on sleepover nights when the trouble starts.”
A cold shiver went through me then. Now I knew what Molly was up to. She was trying to get the
Sleepover Club banned for good.
“It’s not fair!” I burst out. “Not fair!” And in floods of tears, I raced up to the bathroom and locked myself in for a good cry.
It wasn’t fair. How could I explain to Mum that the reason I went to Molly’s swimming practice was to stop the gang from casting a spell on her? All my good turns end up with me in trouble. Nobody appreciates me.
I don’t know how long I stayed there, sitting on the lid of the toilet, bawling my eyes out. All I know is I used up a whole toilet roll. Then, just as I got to the dry-eyed and puffy-faced stage, I heard something through the bathroom wall. Molly the Monster and Silly Jilly were in the bedroom talking. And Molly sounded worried…
“If goody-goody Robin Hughes has his way, Chess Club will meet Saturday mornings! What’ll I do about swimming practice then?”
“Well you can’t do both. You’re in the Chess Club Tournament.”
“I know. Robin Hughes is such a nerd,” moaned Molly. “He’s sure to get his way.”
“Yeah. The teachers love him.”
“Like all the Hughes lot. His rotten cousin, Emma, is in my rotten sister’s class.”
Robin Hughes was one of the dreaded M&Ms’ cousins! That was a hot piece of news. But hot or not, Jilly’s next words made me go cold.
“Your rotten sister’s gonna go ballistic when she finds out about her rat…”
Merlin! My lovely soft, twitchy-nosed pet. What had they done to him? I leapt up and stormed into the bedroom, puffy-faced and panting.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MERLIN!?”
The two conspirators looked up guiltily.
“WELL?”
Molly gave a slow shrug. “We never touched him.” But I could tell from the smirky way she slid her eyes over to Jilly that something was up.
In a blind panic, I raced to the garage where I kept Merlin.
Please be all right, Merlin, I prayed. Please be all right.
But the door to my pet’s cage was open, and his dear little home was empty.
Merlin was gone.
Merlin was gone.
I searched and searched everywhere, but my sweet little pet was nowhere to be found.
Of course, Molly the Monster denied everything. But when Mum questioned Silly Jilly, she couldn’t keep it up. The sneaky creep admitted she’d opened the cage just ‘to stroke Merlin’ (I’ll bet!) and that’s when he’d shot out.
Molly, you Monster, you were behind this, I fumed to myself.
Jilly would never have gone into the garage if you hadn’t told her to cos you’re too weedy to touch Merlin yourself. But you planned his escape to get back at me.
That did it.
Determined to pay Molly back, I got on my bike and took off. Fast as a wild witch on a broomstick, I flew down the road to Cuddington library. And I found just what I wanted…
A book on spells.
Back at Frankie’s, the rest of the gang was lazing about, watching telly and eating popcorn. They were enjoying the Sleepover Club’s usual Saturday treat of swooning over our fave boy bands. Mind you, I could tell Frankie was ready for a distraction.
“OK gang, gather round,” I said, spreading The Good Witches’ Guide to Spooky Spells open on Frankie’s bedroom floor. “We’ve got Hallowe’en to prepare…”
“Wh-what are you going to do?” asked Fliss nervously.
“Learn how to make spells.”
“Oh no…”
“Oh, YES!” I declared.
“We won’t hurt anybody, Fliss,” Lyndz promised.
“All we’re doing is reading about spells,” said Frankie, leafing through the book. “It’s not as if we’re going to turn anyone into a toad or anything.”
But Fliss wasn’t convinced. She went on and on about what her mum would say, and how we’d get into trouble (even though we all knew it was really because she was scared). Fliss can be such a wuss. Just the same, we weren’t going to force Fliss to join in. So while we read up about wands and witches’ broomsticks, Fliss got busy with an ordinary broomstick and cleaned up our sleepover mess from Frankie’s bedroom. (That kept old Fusspot happy!)
What we read was dead interesting. How witchcraft didn’t have to be evil, but could be about good magic and making things better. There was even a Good Witches’ Code and we all pledged to follow it, to the letter. Learning the right way to do things was really important.
The Good Witches’ Code
1. Do not wish harm on others.
2. Keep matches, oils and candles out of reach from little ones.
3. Get permission to light candles. Never leave candles unattended. Keep lit candles away from curtains, paper etc – anything that may catch fire.
4. Take a friend when out collecting material for spells. Don’t go anywhere dangerous and let a responsible adult know where you plan to go.
5. Don’t do any spell that means getting into a bath when you’re tired. You might fall asleep!
6. Know your plants – which are poisonous, and which are endangered species – before you pick them.
7. Do not apply essential oils directly to the skin, without proper dilution.
8. Never drink or eat any of the ingredients to any spell.
9. Do not wear floaty sleeves or trailing clothes for casting spells, in case of accident.
10. Whatever you attempt, GET PERMISSION FIRST!
We were so engrossed in spells and shells, potions, lotions and charms, that I almost forgot my troubles.
Almost.
Merlin and the danger the Sleepover Club was in bubbled away inside me like a witch’s cauldron. Bubble, bubble, bubble.
“Fliss, you’d like this one,” said Lyndz, pointing to Fairy Luck. “You make a magic wreath of ferns and ivy sprayed with rosewater and hang it on your front door.”
“If you want fairies to come,” scoffed Frankie.
“I think it’s sweet,” Fliss sighed in spite of herself. “Getting all the little fairies to dance around at the bottom of your garden.” Then she did a little ballet dance just to prove it.
Frankie gave a snort of laughter. She quoted from Peter Pan, “If you believe in fairies, just clap your hands!”
We all clapped like mad just for a laugh. Then Frankie did a wicked imitation of Peter Pan whooping and flying across the sky, I mean room. So me and Lyndz did a Native American war dance on the beds while Rosie pretended to be Captain Hook. (Guess who had to be Tinkerbell?)
We had an ace pillow fight between the Native Americans and the pirates, then we went back to our spellbook.
When we got to the section on spells for Harmony in the Home, Rosie got thoughtful. “I’d really like to cast one of these spells,” she said, all wistful and sad. “My house is such a tip.”
Rosie’s home was a bit of a mess. Her dad’s in the building trade and when he split up with her mum, he left the house like a builders’ yard.
“I think these spells are about harmony in the family. Not DIY,” I pointed out gently.
“We could do with family harmony too,” sighed Rosie.
I reckon Rosie hoped her dad would come back home and the family would be happy together again (even though her mum’s got a new boyfriend). Personally, I think Rosie-Posie was dreaming.
“I’m going to do a spell for Pepsi to have pups,” said Frankie, who was desperate for more pets. “There’s one here for babies, so I don’t see why it can’t work for dogs.”
“Shame you won’t need a brother or sister any more,” I said. “You could’ve had my sister anytime.”
Frankie pulled a face. “No thanks!”
We all laughed. Frankie’s an only child, but not for much longer! She used to moan about being an only child, but now her mum’s expecting a baby, all Frankie’s dreams are coming true.
“What about you, Fliss?”
“We-ell, I would make a spell for this wonderful outfit I’ve seen in Designer Fashions but…” Fliss, who had turned her favourite colour of pink, trailed off.
> “I’m going do a horse spell!” announced Lyndz. “For a horse of my own.”
Frankie’s reply rhymed: “A horse, of course!” She gave a loud neigh, “Neeeeeeigh…” and pawed the air.
We all fell about laughing, so Lyndz got up and did a noisy gallop round the room, jumping over our sprawled out bodies as if we were fences. Naturally Frankie had to raise the stakes by sticking her bottom in the air even higher.
“And it’s Lyndsey Collins on Merrylegs, coming up to the final fence,” Lyndz announced, pretending to rear at the sight of Frankie’s bottom stuck up in the air.
Suddenly ‘Merrylegs’ threw back her head, snorted and took a running gallop at Frankie.
“YES!!!” we cheered as she sailed through the air.
“Neeeeeeigh!” ‘Merrylegs’ whinnied as she bashed into Frankie’s bum.
“Watch out for the other riders!” I yelled.
“Aaargh!” We ended up in a heap in the middle of the room, rolling about and kicking like stallions.
It was well funny. But it couldn’t make me forget that Merlin was still missing. It couldn’t stop me worrying about him, and it couldn’t stop me thinking about what I had to do.
“I’m gonna put a spell on Molly the Monster,” I announced at last.
“Yay!” cheered Frankie.
“You can’t wish hurt on another,” Fusspot Fliss reminded me.
“Who said I would?” I mumbled rather feebly.
“Fliss, we have to stop Molly from ruining our sleepovers,” said Frankie. “What kind of a spell are you going to put on her, Kenny?”
“A Love Potion.”
“A Love Potion?!” My mates all gawped.
“Yeah,” I grinned. “For my dear sister Molly to fancy someone like mad.”
Fliss, the one who loves lurrve so much she even marries her toys, was dead excited. “Who? Who will Molly fancy?”
“Are you sure you want to know?” I teased her.
Fliss thwacked me. And she was so keen to know my secret, she even forgot to be afraid of spells.
“Emma Hughes’ cousin,” I said. “Robin Hughes, the nerd.”
Payback time! Just you wait, Molly McKenzie!
In order to make a spell for Molly, I had to gather as many bits of her as possible. Altogether I needed:
1. Nail clippings