The Courage of Cat Campbell (23 page)

“I have no doubt in my mind,” Clara Bell said, smiling.

“Inner courage is what I'm talking about, Catherine,” Ms. Roach continued. “The courage of not giving up. Of pursuing your magical dreams, regardless of how difficult that may be. Even though you are learning to control your fears, know that magic will always be a challenge for you.” Cat nodded, and Ms. Roach went on. “I gather you are planning on reapplying to Ruthersfield next year—which is something no Late Bloomer has ever done before.”

“I'd like to,” Cat said.

A look of respect passed over the headmistress's face. “Then if you work on controlling your magic this year and don't do anything rash—like chasing after escaped criminals—and if you keep up your school grades as well as practicing your magical exercises . . .”

“Yes?” Cat whispered. She stood quite still, staring at the headmistress. Her heart was thumping so loud she could feel the blood rushing through her ears.

“If you do all that and you still want to come to Ruthersfield, then so long as you do well on the entrance exams, we would be delighted to offer you a place.”

Cat burst into tears, something she was hugely ashamed of, but she couldn't help herself.

“Remember, Cat,” Clara Bell said with a smile, as Cat and her parents turned to go. “Believing in yourself and your magic is half the battle. You can do this, Cat Campbell. I know you can.”

“I'm going to try my hardest,” Cat said, taking her mum's and dad's hands. “And after facing Madeline Reynolds, I don't think anything can stop me now!”

F
OR THE NEXT TWELVE MONTHS
Cat did everything Ms. Roach had asked her to do. Her father made her a beautiful model wand out of cherrywood so Cat could practice her wand techniques without worrying about her magic misfiring all over the bakery. He also helped her set up a terrarium for the pet tarantula Cat had requested on her birthday. She called the spider Maddie, and by the end of the year, Cat could pick Maddie up and let her crawl all over her hands without flinching.

The best part was that Poppy had agreed to help Cat study. Ms. Roach had given her permission, and even Uncle Tom didn't seem to mind. After all, it wasn't as if Poppy was actually performing the magic herself. She just gave Cat tips, and they spent two hours together every day practicing spells. Cat adored having her mother's help, but it was frustrating to see how easily witchcraft came to her, especially as Cat struggled so hard to channel her own inner magic.

“Focus on the pencil,” Poppy instructed as Cat practiced rolling one across the kitchen table. She wanted to impress Ms. Roach at her next interview. “Channel your inner energy,” Poppy said, remembering what she had been taught. “That way the magic can flow through.” There were many moments when Cat felt like she would never master the basics, when she sent cupcakes and croissants rolling all over the bakery along with the pencil and her magic wouldn't do what it was supposed to do. But she refused to give up.

On Saturdays, after buying her walnut bread, Clara Bell would sit by the canal with Cat, discussing early magic in pagan times and the evolution of witchcraft through the ages. When Cat had trouble remembering important facts, Clara Bell taught her some useful tricks. “Fourteen four, fourteen four, wands were drawn on the Penine Moor,” or “Twelve twenty-three, twelve twenty-three, Ruthersfield was founded by Witch Dupree.” For Cat's birthday she gave her her own copy of
The Late Bloomer's Guide to Magic
, and Cat read a few lines every night for inspiration.

As autumn drifted into winter and winter melted into spring, Cat practiced and practiced until her head ached and her fingers were stiff from grasping her magic wand. Most evenings, Marie Claire tested Cat on her spell ingredients words, patiently correcting Cat every time she spelled “cowry shell” with a
k
instead of a
c
, or forgot how many
a
's were in “sarsaparilla.” And of course Cat's grandparents did everything they could to support their granddaughter, although it took Granny Edith a while to get over her disappointment when Cat didn't get offered a place at Ruthersfield straightaway. But on weekends, when Cat visited Pudding Lane, Granny Edith made up practice quizzes for her, and instead of playing cards they all sat around the kitchen table pretending to be on a game show. Grandpa Roger read out magic questions while Cat and her grandmother competed against each other for the correct answers. There were Twirlie bars for the winner, and plenty of laughter to keep Cat going.

As for Peter, he invented a device he liked to call “Cat's Adrenaline Beeper,” which she kept in her pocket at all times. When Cat found herself getting worried or scared or even overexcited, the beeper would pick up her raised heartbeat and start buzzing, reminding her to stay calm and practice the deep-breathing techniques Francesca Fenwick was so keen on. At recess Cat would go along to science club with Peter and Adam. She liked to sit on the radiator and study spells while they did experiments and built things. Cat found she had much more in common with them these days than she did with Anika, who fainted when Cat introduced her to her new pet. Peter, on the other hand, was quite happy to let Maddie crawl all over his shoulders.

On the day of her Late Bloomer's exam, Cat was so nervous she was sure she wouldn't be able to remember a thing. It was a five-hour-long exam, both oral and written, with a special section devoted to the Passion Quiz. The written piece was fine. Cat knew most of the answers, but she had trouble with her potions. And even though she managed to roll a pencil nicely, she lost control halfway through and sent the pencil shooting across the room and out the window.

It took three weeks before the results came through. Every morning Cat met Ted Roberts, the postman, at the door, and he'd give his head a little shake. “Sorry, Cat, not today.” When the long purple envelope with the Ruthersfield crest on the front finally arrived, Cat felt so nervous and her fingers were shaking so much, she could hardly open it.

“What if I failed?” Cat said, racing back with it into the kitchen. “What if they still don't want me?”

Her dad looked up from the map of Borneo he had spread across the table and saw the envelope in his daughter's hands. He gave his compass tattoo a rub for good luck, and said with complete confidence, “Course they will want you, Cat.”

“There are no such things as failures,” Marie Claire replied wisely. “Only steps toward success.”

Cat stared at the letter in her hands.

“Well, go on, Cat,” Poppy said, looking as anxious as Cat. “Aren't you going to open it?”

“I can't.” Cat shook her head.

“Yes, you can,” Poppy said.

It took all Cat's courage to rip open the envelope, and when she finally did, she let out a scream so loud it could be heard on the other side of the Ribbald Valley. “I got in!” Cat yelled, waving the paper in the air. “I'm going to Ruthersfield. Mamma, Dadda, Marie Claire!” She stared at the paper as if she couldn't believe it. “Ninety percent on the written test. Not so good in the practical though. I only got a C. But I aced the Passion Quiz.” Cat thrust her arm in the air. “Maximum honors!”

“Oh, Cat, I'm so proud of you,” Poppy said, overcome by a burst of emotion. “And I know your grandparents will be too!” She still found it hard to believe that this was what her daughter truly wanted.

“Gran's going to go nuts!” Cat said, dancing around the kitchen. “I can't wait to tell her.”

Tristram beamed. “You earned this, Cat,” he said.

“Cat, come here a moment,” Poppy said, beckoning her daughter over. She held Cat by the shoulders and looked her right in the eye. “You know you're going to be the oldest student in the class, don't you? Probably by a good two or three years.”

“Oh, I don't care about that, Mamma.”

“And you'll always have to study three times as hard as everyone else. It's one of the most intense professions out there. Even girls who find magic easy struggle.”

“Well, I'm used to studying. I've been working hard at my magic all year.”

“I just want to make sure you really understand what you're getting yourself into, Cat.”

Cat glanced at a tray of buns cooling on the table, waiting to be iced.
How could anyone choose baking over magic?
she thought. It made no sense to her at all. “I know what you're saying, Mamma, and I honestly don't care.” Cat's eyes shone with happiness. “Of course I'm never going to be as good at magic as you or Great-Great-Granny Mabel. But I'll be doing what I love!” Cat said. “And that's all that really matters!”

The rest, as they say, is history. Cat started at Ruthersfield the following September, dressed in a smart new uniform with her own novice wand made of applewood. She oiled it every night to keep it supple, dabbing on her mother's extra special (and rather expensive) French walnut oil, which Poppy occasionally used in baking. It made the wood all shiny and smooth and gave it a delicious nutty smell. But after the first two terms, Poppy bought Cat a large bottle of bargain wand oil to take its place, saying rather firmly that this was what most witches used. Although Cat felt sure it didn't work quite as well.

Like Clara Bell, Cat never did master the art of potion making. But she refused to give up trying and could eventually turn out a respectable wart removal cream and an excellent memory-boosting tonic. Sadly, the more complex potions, like shape-changing brews and invisibility spells, would always be beyond her. Cat did manage to make Peter disappear one day, but she had trouble reversing the spell and it took two weeks for the magic to wear off. Poor Peter had to go around wearing a red woolly hat so everyone knew where he was, and after that he refused to let Cat practice on him again.

One thing Cat did excel at was broomstick flying, just like she always knew she would. In her second year at Ruthersfield she was asked to join the broomstick gymnastics team. There was nothing Cat liked better than swooping across the sky, and she got quite a reputation for her impressive stunts. She could balance on her broomstick standing up, and earned the school record for the most somersaults performed in mid-dive. As soon as she was old enough, Cat joined the meals on broomsticks program, and Clara Bell quickly promoted her to team leader because of her dedication and enthusiasm. Even on rainy days, Cat would put on her waterproof cloak and deliver hot meals to the elderly residents of Potts Bottom. And on special occasions, like May Day and Midwinter's Eve, Cat got her mother and Marie Claire to bake cookies for everyone, which she packed in pretty bags and flew around. By the time Cat was in year twelve, she had expanded the meals on broomsticks program and organized a weekly errand service, where girls picked up shopping lists and flew about town, collecting dry cleaning and cat food and delivering shoes to the cobblers. It was such a success that Cat earned a Community Service Award, which Poppy and Tristram proudly hung in the bakery, next to Poppy's Young Baker of the Year awards.