Caution: Witch In Progress (5 page)

    Ma helped her to hang her clothes up in the wardrobe, and Gertie
looked at the back corner of it, feeling a bit guilty that Bat wasn’t there.
When she thought about what he would have been saying right now though, she
quickly changed her mind. He might learn some manners by being left at home.

    Once Gertie’s belongings had been put away, the three went out
to walk over to the stagnant pond with Wart. It was even nicer close up with
green slime covering the rocks and floating on top of the water. Wart’s nose
poked out of Gertie’s pocket as soon as he smelt it. He was soon in and having
a quick swim before settling on a rock he must have particularly liked the look
of. His eyes goggled as if he was thinking about the huge tasty flies Gertie
believed he’d been dreaming about.

    ‘Bye for now, Wart,’ said Gertie with a wave. ‘I’ll be back to
see you soon.’

    Wart didn’t pay much attention. He was on holiday.

    By the time Ma and Gran left Gertie at the Academy and set off
for home, Gertie knew they felt reassured she would be happy there. Ma had
tears in her eyes but she said that was not just for leaving Gertie, but
because of the place. It was a witch’s dream come true.

    Gertie believed every mother who brought her child there had
left with a lump in her throat because of the beauty of the Academy and its
setting.

    Gertie waved Ma and Gran off happily. She would miss them, but
there was so much to see and do here! She was in the dining room taking a seat
at one of the long tables well before 5:30 came. She didn’t want to miss a
thing.

    Once everyone was seated, they were all given a big bowl of
lovely meat and toadstool stew from a steaming cauldron wheeled around by two
cooks dressed from head to foot in black. It was delicious. Gertie thought
about how much Gran would have enjoyed it. Gran was very fond of stew. Well, of
food in general.

    Soon all the teachers were being introduced by Miss Wick. Gertie
already knew Miss Fiendish, but there were so many other names too. Gertie
hoped she wasn’t expected to remember them all. There was a Miss Hemlock, Mr Mort,
Miss Hex and Mr Wolfsbane, and they were just a few. She would have to try to
go through the names when she was back in her room, and then see if she could
remember the face that went with each one.

    The meal and the introductions took a while, and Gertie didn’t
have time to speak to any of the other little witches and warlocks. There was
so much going on.

    After a couple of hours they were all taken to the library
again, much to Gertie’s delight. She couldn’t believe her luck when they were
led to a small section where they were able to each choose a book to read in
their own room at night! Gertie chose a funny one about all the silly things
mere mortals do. She would enjoy that.

    By the time she arrived back in her room, it was going a little
dark. Gertie looked around to make sure no one was around in case it didn’t
work, then said ‘Lights on!’ On they came right away. She clapped her hands in
glee. After nipping down the corridor to the young witches’ bathroom, Gertie
got ready for bed. She would be up early in the morning.

    Gertie opened the window for Owl and told him to be careful,
then she read a few pages of her new book in bed. She felt too excited to ever
be able to sleep again. What a day it had been.

    Before long, the book slipped out of her hands. She awoke
briefly to hear Owl coming back in a few hours later, and murmured ‘Lights off’
as she realised they were still flickering.

    Trying to match the teacher’s names to their faces, she soon
drifted off again. Gertie knew nothing more until she heard a gong being banged
in the hall, the sign to let everyone know it was time to get up. Breakfast
would be in half an hour.

The
first couple of days flew, and Gertie was happy at the Academy. She found it
easy to get used to the rules and schedules. She hadn’t even had time since
arriving to wonder how she felt about being away from home and amongst
strangers for the first time.

    Gertie made very sure Owl was happy on his log in her room, and
that Wart liked the stagnant pond she could see from her much sought after
bedroom window.

    She thought of her Ma and Gran, but not sadly. Things were far
too exciting. They had promised to come to visit her at the weekend anyway.

    Serious lessons at the Academy hadn’t begun yet. The purpose of
the first week was to let the new pupils settle in, get to know each other, and
meet the teachers. Not that Gertie had really got to know any of the other
witches and warlocks yet. She said hello on passing, and even got a reply
sometimes. Everyone seemed so busy though. Little groups gathered together in
corridors and study rooms, but Gertie wasn’t part of one. She didn’t mind at
all. She was well used to be alone in the village, apart from Ma and Gran of
course. If she wanted anyone to talk to, she talked to Owl or Wart. Miss
Fiendish always stopped to ask her how she was settling in too.  All in all,
Gertie was pleased to be at the Academy, and looking forward to her first real
lessons.

    Gertie had decided she wasn’t too keen on Miss Wick. She knew it
wasn’t nice to say you didn’t like someone, but as she said to Owl one night, ‘Well,
I don’t not like her, but I don’t really like her either.’

    Owl blinked in understanding. Well, Gertie thought he
understood, and that’s what mattered.

    ‘It’s something about the way she looks at me,’ Gertie explained
to Owl, ‘and says ‘You, Girl,’ when she wants me for something. She points too,
and that isn’t polite you know, Owl. Not unless you’re putting a spell on
someone, and then you have to point. Otherwise, how are they going to know you
mean them?’

    Gertie pondered a while on the confusing things about being
grown up, and a witch. A lot of it didn’t make much sense to her. She wondered
if it did to grown up witches either.

    ‘Now, I do like Miss Fiendish very much,’ Gertie continued to
tell Owl, who was already half asleep. ‘She isn’t as warty as the others, and
doesn’t have much of a hooked nose. Why, she almost looks as much like a mortal
as I do! Well, almost, almost.’ Gertie corrected herself. ‘And she smiles at
me, and remembers my name. Yes, she’s my friend.’ Gertie was soon asleep, with
only the soft lull of Owl’s snores to disturb her.

    Gertie made her first real friend at the Academy almost by accident.
She learned something about herself too.

    Bertha Bobbit, some would say, had been born to a most unfortunate
name. The other, more cruel ones, would say her name could not have been more
appropriate. When Bertha walked, when Bertha merely moved, everything Bertha
had to bob, bobbed. Bertha was a very fat girl, so unfortunately, she had a lot
to bob. She made it worse by never being seen without something to eat in her
hand, or in her mouth, or both.

    On this particular day, Gertie was walking along one of the
dark, grand, echoing stone corridors when the sound of voices assailed her.
Turning the corner she saw Bertha, backed into a corner, surrounded by jeering
young witches and warlocks. The one doing the most jeering was Fang.

    ‘Look at her,’ he jibed. ‘If she fell over she wouldn’t hurt
herself. She’d just bounce back!’

    The others laughed in appreciation. Fang’s dark, evil good looks
had made him very popular already at the Academy.

    ‘Imagine the size of the broomstick she’ll need!’ Fang was saying.
‘And,’ he continued in triumph, ‘she isn’t like us anyway you know. She wasn’t
given a place here. She had to pay.’

    The others roared with laughter, and poor Bertha began to cry.

    ‘Leave her alone,’ called Gertie bravely, feeling upset herself
at seeing someone cry.

    Fang turned his narrow black eyes on her. How dare anyone
interrupt him, his expression said.

    ‘What’s it got to do with you, Blondie,’ he insulted her.

    ‘You’re very mean, and very wicked,’ replied Gertie, ‘and I
DON’T like you.’ There, she had said it. Whether it was polite or not.

    ‘You won’t get around me with flattery,’ said Fang with a
grimace, ‘and anyway, you are the last one to interfere.’

    A mumbled hush went around the group. Bertha still stood in the
corner, but had stopped crying. She seemed relieved the attention had been
distracted from her.

    ‘What do you mean?’ said Gertie, wishing she hadn’t asked as
soon as the words left her mouth.

    ‘What do you mean?’ Fang mimicked in a soppy little voice. ‘What
I mean Blondie, is that YOU don’t deserve to be here either. The whole village
knows you only got in by paying.’

    Gertie stared at Fang in horror. It hadn’t occurred to her how
she had been accepted into the Academy. She just knew Ma and Gran had sorted
it.

    ‘It isn’t true,’ she said in a small voice.

    ‘Tis too!’ Fang jibed.

    ‘Tis too, tis too,’ the group joined in.

    ‘WHAT is going on HERE?’ Miss Wick’s voice resounded off the
stone walls.

    ‘Nothing, Miss Wick,’ replied Fang calmly, baring his teeth at
the Head Witch.

    ‘Oh, it’s you, Fang,’ she said, patting him on his bullet shaped
head. ‘Oh,’ she continued, ‘It’s YOU, girl, I might have known you would be
involved in this.’

    ‘But,’ Gertie began.

    ‘DON’T interrupt me, girl. Fang, tell me what is going on.’

    ‘I was simply explaining, Ma’am,’ Fang replied almost
reverently, ‘that not all of us are lucky enough to have been taken in by the
Academy on merit.’

    ‘Hmmmm,’ listened Miss Wick.

    ‘And that the Academy is good enough to give chances to
everyone, for a small donation to the upkeep of this great famous school. Even
those who don’t, quite, make the grade. Like Gertie and Bertha, Miss Wick.’

    ‘Yes Fang, that is true. So, what is all this commotion about,
Gertie?’

    ‘Nothing, Miss,’ replied Gertie in a very humbled voice.

    ‘Well, don’t let it happen again. Come along, children. I’m sure
there’s somewhere you should all be.’ Miss Wick clapped her hands, then carried
on down the corridor.

    With a look of triumph, Fang walked away. The others closely
followed him. Soon, Gertie and Bertha were left alone.

    ‘I’m sorry, Gertie,’ Bertha began.

    ‘Sorry, why are you sorry?’ asked Gertie, angrily rubbing at a
tear forming in her eye.

    ‘I didn’t know your family paid too. I thought I was the only
one. It’s my fault you found out like that.’

    ‘No, it’s not. I’m glad I know,’ Gertie lied. ‘Don’t you see,’
she added more brightly, ‘it shows how much our families love us and believe in
us to pay to send us here.’

    ‘Well, I suppose so,’ agreed Bertha.

    ‘And, it’s only because we look different that we were not asked
to come in the first place.’ Gertie continued.

    ‘Yes, you do look rather odd for a witch,’ Bertha replied,
taking another bite of her cake.

    Gertie let the remark pass. She knew Bertha meant no harm. It
was true. She did look odd for a witch.

    ‘Would you like to come to my room, and meet Owl? If he’s in,’
Gertie asked hopefully. ‘It IS in the Left Wing…’

    ‘IT IS!’ Bertha squealed, ‘Oh yes! Can you see the pond, and the
swamp too?’

    ‘Yes, and some blasted oaks,’ Gertie enthused, caught up in
Bertha’s excitement.

    The two returned arm in arm to Gertie’s room, and remained close
friends ever after.

    It didn’t take Gertie long to realise why Bertha hadn’t been
accepted with open arms to the Academy. She had no interest in learning at all,
and was so clumsy. Not only was Bertha fat, but she was a tall girl too, with
extremely big feet. Gertie could hear Bertha coming down the corridor with her
clumpy footsteps long before she arrived. In fact, Gertie believed the corridor
shook to announce her presence. It gave Gertie time to quickly move anything
that could be knocked off, kicked, stood on, sat on, or eaten, to a safe place.
Including Owl. Not that Bertha had ever tried to eat Owl, but she had kicked
his log by accident and sent him fluttering off it. She had also narrowly
missed standing on him, and only avoided sitting on him once by a feather’s
breadth as she plonked down on his log. Gertie knew that Owl had got used to
hearing the footsteps too, and learned how to hurry off on an important mission
he had forgotten about until that very moment.

    ‘Isn’t Owl here?’ Bertha would ask.

    ‘No, you’ve just missed him,’ Gertie would say, meaning
literally, you just missed sitting, stepping, or flopping down on him

    ‘Once you get used to Bertha’s clumsiness, she is a very nice
person,’ Gertie told Owl one night when he had sneaked back after Bertha had
left.

    Owl didn’t look convinced.

    ‘She is, really,’ Gertie insisted. ‘She is kind and gentle, and
wouldn’t hurt a fly. Unless she accidentally sat on it. And she would share
everything she has with her friends.’

    That much was true. Though Bertha only had one friend, Gertie.
It suited them both. The two girls knew they were different than the others in
some way. If anything, that difference made them even closer.

    The only lessons the girls went to on the first week were very
relaxed ones. They were meant more to meet the teachers. Gertie and Bertha were
not introduced to anything mind boggling or too involved. The teachers seemed
content to discuss various books they thought the pupils should read, and to
tell them about what their courses would entail. They were also happy to answer
questions. Some of the witches and warlocks already knew all the right things
to ask like, ‘Will we get to pick our own ingredients in the woods at midnight?’ and ‘When will we be fitted for our broomsticks?’

    Gertie sat and listened. She didn’t know what to say. Bertha sat
there too. She was asleep most of the time.

    At the weekend, Ma and Gran came to see Gertie. Even Gran fussed
about more than usual. They had obviously missed their little Gertie, and had
been worried about her.

    Ma acted as if she hadn’t seen Gertie for years. ‘Oh, my little
witch, how are you? Are you eating all right? Are you sleeping at night? You look
tired, and thin. Gran, doesn’t she? Gertie, are you ill?’

    Gertie tried to answer each question in turn, but couldn’t get a
word in edgeways.

    ‘Don’t fuss so,’ interrupted Gran. ‘She’s fine, aren’t you, my
little devil?’

    ‘Yes, I am thank you, Gran,’ Gertie replied, hugging the plump
old witch.

    ‘See, told you she’d be fine. She’s a Grimthorpe,’ said Gran
with a knowing nod.

    Gertie very much wanted to know about her Ma and Gran paying for
her to attend the Academy, but she didn’t mention it. She decided that if they
wanted her to know, they would have told her. They would explain in their own
good time. Still, she wondered why they didn’t. She secretly hoped they were
not ashamed of her.

    Gertie proudly introduced Bertha as her best friend. Bertha proceeded
to almost break Gran’s hand with a firm handshake, bumped into Ma and nearly
sent her sprawling, then fell backwards over Gran’s broomstick.

    ‘Hello, Bertha,’ said Ma to the huge figure bobbing about on the
floor trying to get up again. She finally managed it with a sort of rolling
action. Gertie saw Ma give Gran a hurried look that said, don’t you dare say
anything!

    Gran snorted, and looked the other way.

    ‘And what have you been learning, my dear?’ Ma asked her little
girl.

    Gertie told her all about the easy classes so far. ‘And next
week,’ she added proudly, ‘they’re going to start teaching us The Grimace!’