Halloween Havoc

by Lou Kuenzler

  Also by Lou Kuenzler

  Bella Broomstick

  Bella Broomstick:

  School Spells

  Princess Disgrace:

  First Term at Tall Towers

  Princess Disgrace:

  Second Term at Tall Towers

  Princess Disgrace:

  Third Term at Tall Towers

  Princess Disgrace:

  Winter Term at Tall Towers

  To Will. Thank you.

  You were magic. – LK

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  It was a cold and blustery day, but I didn’t mind. I was in a brilliant mood because it was half-term and I was on the bus on my way to visit my best friend ever, Esme Lee.

  Esme lives in a windmill with her mum, her little sister, Gretel, her baby brother, Jack the Bean, two cats and eleven magical bunnies. The bunnies are my fault!

  It’s a long story – but, you see, I am really a witch … my horrible Aunt Hemlock said I was hopeless at magic, and sent me away from the Magic Realm to live in the Person World, where I found my lovely foster parents. It’s been brilliant. The only trouble is that I’m not supposed to do any magic here or tell anyone I’m a witch – it is a REALLY BIG SECRET.

  Esme is the only Person in Merrymeet Village who knows the truth, and she only found out by accident. The first day I met her, she was trying to do that funny conjuring trick where you pull a rabbit out of a hat – and I tried to help out – but instead of one magic rabbit, we ended up with a whole hatful! After that, Esme definitely guessed I could do magic. Luckily, the bunnies are adorable and live happily alongside the latest new arrivals at the windmill: Henny, Penny and Jenny, the three chickens who have a coop in the orchard.

  As the bus dropped me at the bottom of the meadow, I could see Mrs Lee and the two youngest children collecting eggs under the apple trees. (Although, as Jack the Bean is only a baby, I don’t suppose he was much help.)

  “Hello!” I waved. “How are you?”

  “Very well, thanks, Bella! Go on up to the windmill, if you like. Esme’s expecting you,” hollered Mrs Lee. “We had plenty of eggs this week, so she’s baking cupcakes.”

  “Yum!” I love cupcakes. My foster mum, Aunty Rose, always puts rainbow-coloured sprinkles on top of hers. I couldn’t wait to try Esme’s. I ran inside the old white windmill and kicked off my shoes in the cosy hallway.

  “Hello…” I called. “It’s me.”

  I could hear running water in the bathroom upstairs.

  “I’ll be down in two minutes,” Esme yelped. “I had a bit of a baking disaster! And now I’ve got icing in my hair.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t eat all the cupcakes without you,” I promised as I went through to the kitchen.

  “Cluttering cauldrons!” Esme was right. It definitely looked as if there had been a bit of a baking disaster! A big one!

  There was egg yolk, sugar and flour all over the table. Whisks, bowls and baking trays were piled high in the sink. And runny green icing was dripping down the walls.

  “She even got goo in my web!” said a small, sticky voice somewhere above my head. I looked up to see a tiny spider swinging from the window frame on the end of a gloopy green thread. I think the little fellow was meant to be grey, but he was spattered with bright green spots of icing too.

  “You poor thing! Don’t worry. I’ll sort this out in no time!” I said, chatting to him in Spider Speak. (I have always loved talking animal languages and practise whenever I can. I am also fluent in Cat, Rat, Bat and Lizard, and all sorts of other creatures too.)

  “Time for a super-speedy spell,” I said. I know my horrible Aunt Hemlock made me promise I wouldn’t do any more magic when she banished me to the Person World. But if I didn’t help Esme out now, we’d be washing up all morning. And how could a little tidying-up spell possibly go wrong?

  “Here goes!” I whipped my pink-flamingo feather pen – which is really a MAGIC WAND – from behind my ear. A shower of pink bubbles shot out the end as I waved it three times in the air:

  Mess and muddle go away,

  Tidy up so we can play!

  With a clatter of pans and a whirl of whisks, warm soapy water splashed into the sink.

  “Yippee! It’s working perfectly!” I told the spider, who was scuttling up and down the curtain looking nervous.

  We watched as the dishes dried themselves on a floating tea towel. Meanwhile, a dancing dishcloth wiped the table, and the mop and brush waltzed together as they cleaned the messy floor.

  “Hurtling hurricanes, that was quick!” I cheered as the damp cloths hung themselves out on the edge of the sink to dry and the mop and brush tap-danced neatly towards the cupboard.

  “I’m all clean too,” said the spider, swinging from a fresh strand of web. All his gooey icing spots had vanished and he clapped his eight legs in delight. “Thank you!”

  “You’re welcome!” I said with a grin.

  Magic is brilliant! Esme would be so pleased when she came downstairs to a gleaming kitchen and then we could make the most of our day.

  Except… “Eww!” Now the table was tidy I saw the cupcakes for the first time. Instead of delicious sparkly-sprinkled fairy cakes like the ones Aunty Rose made, a mush of gooey green globules wobbled on a plate.

  Surely Person food wasn’t supposed to look like this? The icing was the colour of troll bogey, and… “Yikes!” There was a squishy jelly eyeball on the top of each one. I wasn’t even certain these were cupcakes at all. I had never seen anything so spooky in the Person World; they looked more like something Aunt Hemlock would bake.

  I looked at Esme’s cookery book, which was standing open at a recipe for “Sweet Twinkle Treats” above a pretty picture of twelve perfect pink cakes with soft swirly icing and silver sparkly stars on top.

  “Dabbling demons!” I gasped, looking from the picture to the horrible cakes on the table. “Esme must be so disappointed they didn’t turn out like the ones in the book. This really is a baking disaster! She’ll be so pleased if I tidy the cakes up a little too.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea!” warned the spider.

  But I could hear Esme coming down the stairs.

  “Don’t be such a fuss pot,” I said, and I waved my wand.

  These yucky cakes must shine and twinkle,

  Add pink icing and LOTS of sprinkles!

  “See? Perfect!” I stood back and did a little curtsy just as Esme bounded through the door with her long sandy hair wrapped in a towel.

  “Sorry I took so long, I just— Wait a minute! What’s happened to the kitchen?” She grinned. “It’s so tidy. How did you do it, Bella? Did you use…”

  “Magic…” I wiggled my wand and winked.

  “You’re amazing!” she cheered. No wonder I could never resist doing magic when Esme was around. It was always so much fun. Ever since she had discovered my secret, she’d convinced me to try o
ut wonderful new spells, like: skipping with an enchanted rope. A flying pillow fight. And making our knives and forks sing.

  For the first time in my life, I was starting to see that magic didn’t always have to be about doing horrible things like giving someone itchy spots or turning them into a slug.

  “Now the kitchen’s tidy, we can enjoy the cupcakes,” Esme said. “Have you seen them? They’re so—”

  Esme stared at the plate of shimmering-glimmering treats, and her face fell.

  “They’re so … ruined!” she gulped.

  “Ruined? I don’t understand,” I said. “They … they look just like the picture.” I pointed to the cookery book. “See? Sweet Twinkle Treats. That’s what the recipe says.”

  “But I wasn’t making those ones! The page must have got turned over when you tidied up.” Esme flicked back through the book. “I was making these…”

  She pointed to a picture of twelve gooey green cupcakes, exactly like the ones I had magicked away.

  “I did try to tell you!” tutted the spider. I threw him a dirty look.

  “They’re called Spooky Sponge Surprise!” Esme sighed. “I was making them for Halloween!”

  “Halloween?” I buried my head in my hands. “I should have guessed!” No matter how many times Esme had told me about it, I still couldn’t get used to the idea that Persons thought it was fun to dress up in spooky costumes and terrify each other once a year. Halloween was always the worst night ever in the Magic Realm.

  “Don’t look so worried, Bella.” Esme smiled. “Halloween in Merrymeet Village will be wicked fun, I promise…”

  Chapter Two

  Esme told me again how brilliant it was to dress up in scary Halloween costumes and pretend to be terrified as all the children went round the village, ringing each other’s doorbells and collecting spooky-looking sweets. It certainly sounded a lot better than being dipped in sneezing potion or eating fried slugs. That was Aunt Hemlock’s idea of Halloween fun.

  “I really am sorry I ruined your scary cakes!” I said as Esme passed me the plate of pretty pink ones. “Shall I change them back again?”

  “Duff be sully!” she mumbled through a mouthful of icing. “Theffe are dulucious!” She licked her lips. “They’ve got a magical fizz like popping candy…”

  That’s the amazing thing about Esme. She always looks on the bright side, even when things go wrong. I smiled and took a bite of cupcake too.

  “Sparkling sprites! It tastes like fairy dust,” I giggled as the icing popped and tingled inside my mouth.

  “That’s no good for Halloween,” said Esme seriously. “We don’t want fairy dust… We want troll farts and witch’s fingernails!”

  “Eww!” I could tell Esme had never smelt a real troll fart. “I should introduce you to Gawpaw,” I said, thinking of my giant troll friend back in the Magic Realm. “He really can let off a stinker!”

  “Oooh, I’d love to meet a troll.” Esme’s blue eyes sparkled with excitement. “I’d give anything to visit the Magic Realm, Bella. Couldn’t you take me, just for a little visit?”

  “No!” I said. “I’d love to see Gawpaw and it would be fun for you to meet him too. But I’m never going back to the Magic Realm ever again. And I’m definitely not taking you. Witches are always terrified of spies trying to steal their magic. It wouldn’t be safe.”

  If Aunt Hemlock caught Esme snooping around the Magic Realm, she would probably bake her inside a Person pie or roast her on toast!

  “You could do a spell to make us invisible!” begged Esme. “We could fly into the Magic Realm on a broomstick, have a quick peek, meet Gawpaw and fly home without anyone else even seeing us. Please, Bella!”

  “Definitely not!” I tried to sound firm. “Once we’re in the Magic Realm, I don’t know if we’d ever get out again.” The thought of never being able to get back to the Person World sent a shiver down my spine. I loved living here with Uncle Martin and Aunty Rose. I loved being a pupil at Merrymeet Primary School with Esme and all my new friends. I loved bubble baths and flushing toilets and fluffy slippers…

  But Esme wasn’t listening. “Oh my goodness – I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before! Let’s go to the Magic Realm on Halloween!” she said. “Imagine how exciting that would be! We’d see real witches and wizards on the scariest night of the year.”

  “It would not be exciting. It would be terrifying.” I shuddered. “Halloween in the Magic Realm is really, really scary,” I tried to explain. “The witches fly to the top of Hag’s Crag and dance around the hilltop, chanting horrible spells. They play Pass-the-Hex and see who can grow the biggest wart on the end of their nose.”

  “A wart-growing competition?” Esme giggled. “That doesn’t sound very scary.” “Tell that to poor old Wexinder Wormwood, the walking witch wart!” I said. “Her warts grew so enormous she had to push them along in a wheelbarrow.”

  “All right, maybe I don’t want to grow any warts,” said Esme. “But you did promise you’d teach me to ride a broomstick.”

  “That I can do!” I said. I was really looking forward to it. “We’ll have a go here, behind the windmill. Just as soon as no one is looking!”

  I dropped my voice to a whisper as Gretel burst through the door, followed by Mrs Lee, who was carrying a basket of eggs in one hand and baby Jack the Bean in the other.

  “Hello, Bella! I’m being a pumpkin for Halloween,” said Gretel proudly. “The suit used to belong to Esme but she’s grown out of it. And Jack the Bean is going to be a pea.”

  “A pea?” laughed Esme. “That’s not scary!”

  “I know.” Gretel frowned. “But he has a bright green Babygro and Mum says we can’t afford to buy him anything new just for Halloween.” She started rummaging through a basket of clothes beside the washing machine.

  “I wish I could sew costumes for you all,” said Mrs Lee. “But I’m just too busy. The publishing company want me to finish The Rabbits of Windmill Meadow by the end of the month … and I won’t be paid until I’ve handed it in.”

  “How exciting!” I said. I couldn’t believe that Mrs Lee’s story about the bunnies Esme and I had brought to live here really was going to be made into a book. She had drawn lovely pictures of them all too.

  “I’ll just have to be a silly ghost again,” Esme whispered to me as Mrs Lee went into the pantry to put away the eggs. “Mum made me the costume out of an old white sheet last year. But she’s right – she’s too busy to help with something new. And we certainly don’t have any money to buy anything from the shops.”

  “But that sounds brilliant!” I said, thinking how clever Persons could be. Some of the ghosts who fluttered around the Magic Realm really did look as if they were wearing sheets.

  Esme just sighed.

  “What about you, Bella?” asked Mrs Lee, coming back to the kitchen table. “What are you going to dress up as?”

  “Erm. I’m not sure,” I said. I had seen a picture of a gorgeous black cat costume in Aunty Rose’s sewing magazine. It was really cute. But she was already making me new curtains for my bedroom – I didn’t want to ask her to sew me a Halloween costume as well.

  “You have to be a witch, Bella!” winked Esme. “It will be perfect!” She grinned from ear to ear.

  I wasn’t so sure. I’d spent my whole life wearing a pointy hat and a long black cloak. The thought of dressing up like that again on Halloween – the creepiest night of the year – didn’t sound very much fun at all.

  Before we could discuss it any further, Gretel found the bright green baby outfit and waved it in the air.

  “See!” she cried, holding it up against her brother. “He looks just like a pea.”

  “Or a Brussels sprout,” I said. (Brussels sprouts are scary! I had tasted them for school dinner.)

  “Or a green troll bogey!” laughed Esme.

  “Thank you! That’s quite enough of that,” said Mrs Lee.

  But Gretel was jumping up and down, clapping her hands. “T
roll bogey! Troll bogey! Troll bogey!” she chanted.

  “Out!” said Mrs Lee firmly. “All of you.” She whisked the Babygro away from Gretel. “I need to put the washing on and write another chapter before tea.”

  “And Bella and I need to find a broomstick,” said Esme, grabbing our coats from the peg.

  “A broomstick?” Mrs Lee looked up for a moment. “Is it for Bella’s costume? I think there might be an old one outside in the shed.”

  “Perfect!” said Esme, pushing me out of the door.

  But I knew she wasn’t thinking about my costume. She was planning a secret broomstick ride.

  “Darting dragons! Come on, then,” I cried. “It should be a real adventure.”

  Chapter Three

  Esme bounded towards the tumbledown shed behind the windmill. She flung open the door and skidded to a sudden stop.

  “Er … why don’t you go in and see if you can find a broom in there, Bella?” she said. “You’ll … erm … you’ll know if it looks all right for us to fly on.”

  I peered into the gloom.

  “You’re not scared of the dark, are you?” I asked in surprise. Esme was normally so bold and fearless, I didn’t think she was scared of anything.

  “Er … no. Not the dark,” she squeaked.

  “It’s us she doesn’t like the look of!” giggled a trio of tiny voices.

  “You don’t like spiders?” I asked, looking up to see three big fat ones hanging in a row. I didn’t want to tell Esme she had one living behind her kitchen curtains.

  “It’s the way they wriggle and jiggle about!” Esme grabbed my arm as the naughty spiders dangled on the ends of their spinning threads like dancing puppets. “I didn’t used to be so afraid,” she said. “Then Piers Seymour found out I didn’t like spiders. He filled my lunch box with a whole nest of them and they all scuttled up my arm when I went to pick my sandwich up.”