How to Catch a Witch

by Abie Longstaff

  Charlie sighed. She pressed a few more buttons and the oven switched off. Phew.

  Charlie sat back down on the sofa. Beside each item on the list, she made a note of where to find it:

  1 eggshell (kitchen)

  1 sprig of lavender (front garden)

  2 pinches of orange peel (buy oranges)

  3 drops of blue candle wax (village shop?)

  1 sprinkle of sandalwood (village shop?)

  Sulphur (village shop?)

  The front door opened. Mum was home. “Hi!” she called.

  “We’re in here!” Charlie called back.

  Mum pulled off her coat. “Wow!” she cried. “Look at that kitchen! Gorgeous colour!”

  Charlie rolled her eyes at Annie.

  “Lellow,” said Annie seriously.

  “Yes,” said Charlie, “it’s v-v-very lellow.”

  That day in school, all Charlie could think about was the list of ingredients. The hours seemed to drag and it felt like weeks before final bell rang. She fingered the note in her pocket. Last night she’d managed to find the eggshell (from one of Suzy’s Golden Goose eggs) and the lavender from the garden. Now all she needed was:

  Orange peel

  Blue candle

  Sandalwood

  Sulphur

  She could get the orange from the supermarket, and surely Moonquest was the best place for those last three? Charlie wasn’t exactly sure what sulphur was. She just knew it was famous for smelling awful.

  Charlie passed the common room. The sound of beautiful singing came drifting out.

  “Where happy little bluebirds fly…

  …Beyond the rainbow, why—

  crrooooaaaak…”

  Cold shot through Charlie’s veins. It was Tuesday. There were five days till Sunday; five days until Suzy turned seventeen.

  Charlie leaned against the common room door and breathed out. She closed her eyes and then opened them quickly. Someone was watching her.

  She looked around: Kat was standing a little way along the hall, squinting her eyes again like there was something funny going on. Charlie backed into a side door and then ran down the stairwell and out of the building.

  She hurried towards the high street and didn’t stop until she was right inside the supermarket. Phew. Safe. She spent a while looking at the oranges. If it was peel she needed, then it was probably best to pick the smoothest one, wasn’t it? Charlie ran her hands over the fruit. One was a little less bumpy than the others. Yes. That felt right. She counted out her money and fed it into the self-service checkout.

  Then it was straight to Moonquest. She pushed the door open and stepped inside. The shop smelled of vanilla today. Charlie followed her nose to an incense stick burning on a side counter. Next to it were other flavours: coconut, rose, apple – and sandalwood. She frowned. The list said a “sprinkle” of sandalwood. You couldn’t sprinkle an incense stick, could you? She scanned the shelves… Ah! There was sandalwood powder! She took a sachet. On the back it said:

  50g Sandalwood powder: for soothing and healing, as an antiseptic and disinfectant. Mix to a paste with milk or rosewater and apply to skin.

  The blue candle was easy – there were loads of them sitting on a shelf. That left the sulphur. Charlie couldn’t see it anywhere. Her stomach dropped. She’d have to ask at the counter. She looked over; the ponytail guy was leaning over doing a crossword. There was no one else in the shop. It was the perfect time.

  Charlie took a step forward. Silently her tongue practised the “s” for sulphur.

  Ponytail looked up. “Hey,” he said, “what can I do you for?”

  “Um…” Charlie froze.

  S, her brain was screaming. Just say the S!

  “Uh…” She bit her tongue to force it to behave. It was no use. Charlie felt like her jaw was locked. The word was somewhere behind her breastbone, as if stuck there for ever.

  She ran out of the shop and on to the green. There she sat, with tears in her eyes, hiding behind a tree in case anyone saw her. Then she looked down. To her horror she was still holding the sandalwood and the candle! Ponytail was going to think she was a shoplifter!

  She gasped in panic. Look what her stammer was doing to her! Charlie didn’t care what Agatha had said; she felt more cursed than ever.

  Get a grip, she told herself. She forced herself to breathe in and out steadily, to focus on the letters the way her old speech therapist, Lucy, had taught her. Come on, you can do this, she said in her head. You have to go back in there.

  She rose to her feet and, before she could chicken out, she walked back into the shop.

  “S-s-s-sorry,” she said, handing Ponytail the items.

  “That’s fine.” Ponytail spoke to her really slowly, as if she didn’t understand English. “Now, what was it you wanted earlier?”

  Charlie took a deep breath. “S-s-s…”

  “Soap? Star signs? Salve?”

  Ponytail was making it worse. Charlie frowned in frustration. She could feel her eyes tearing up again. The bell of the shop door went and Charlie panicked. Someone else had come in! In a rush she snatched the pen out of Ponytail’s hand and scribbled down: Sulphur.

  “Sulphur?” Ponytail raised his eyebrows, “I think I’ve got some powder down here somewhere.” He rummaged around under the desk.

  Charlie turned slightly to see if she could see who the new person was. Hopefully it was no one who knew her. Her face flushed hot as she caught a glimpse of bright red hair: it was Kat!

  “Aha!” said Ponytail. “Here you go!”

  Charlie fumbled in her pocket for her money. She scooped the ingredients into her rucksack and sped out of the shop, leaving the door jangling behind her.

  “Hi!” She could hear Kat calling after her but Charlie didn’t stop.

  Luckily Dad was out. He’d left a note:

  Gone to DIY store.

  Charlie admired the new kitchen counters. Dad had done a great job! The room was beginning to look like an actual kitchen: a bright-yellow kitchen, but a kitchen all the same.

  Charlie chopped up the orange peel and lavender as finely as she could. Now to mix in the rest. Agatha had said to grind the mixture, but Charlie couldn’t find anything to use. She really needed one of those pestle and mortar things. Hang on… Charlie remembered seeing something. What was it… ? Oh yes! When she’d helped Dad in the garden the other day she’d noticed a funny old marble bowl.

  Charlie opened the back door and climbed through the nettles and weeds. Leaning on its side, amongst a pile of old bottles, was a heavy, round bowl. It looked like an over-sized mixing bowl. Charlie puffed as she pulled it upright. She wiped the marble free of snails and mud and felt a little tingle of excitement. The bowl was lovely and smooth – perfect for grinding herbs in! She looked around for some kind of handle or something to crush them with. Ahead of her was the old apple tree, the one with the troll-face in its bark. Charlie poked her tongue out at the troll and looked on the grass for fallen branches. There was one! A nice thick one! She pulled it free of weeds and carried it back to the marble bowl.

  She tipped in the chopped orange and lavender, the empty eggshell, the funny-smelling sulphur and the sweet sandalwood. Then she pressed down hard with the branch, crushing and crunching everything again and again until it began to make a powder. As she mixed she concentrated hard. I hope this works, she said to herself, remembering Suzy’s croak earlier that day.

  Charlie’s arm was beginning to ache. She stopped to rest for a moment and peered into the bowl. The powder was much finer now, a lovely golden colour from the sandalwood. She felt a bubble of happiness expand inside her and she caught herself grinning.

  She looked at Agatha’s list again. There was just one last thing left to add:

  3 drops of blue candle wax

  Charlie lit the candle and tipped it on to its side so the flame caught the wax. It dripped into the bowl: one, two, three drops. There was a hiss and a flash of blue. Charlie jumped as a surge of el
ectricity ran through her bones. She jerked back, her heart hammering inside her chest. A thrill of excitement spread from her toes to her head.

  The mixture looked richer somehow. It seemed to glow slightly in the sunshine. Carefully she spooned it into one of the empty bottles propped up against the old cottage. Done! Now she just had to show it to Agatha.

  Charlie felt proud of her little bottle of powder. As she squeezed between the bushes on the path to Agatha’s house, she found she was desperate to show it off. She knocked at the cottage door and pushed it open. “Agatha?” she called.

  “Yep, yep,” came an answer from the lounge.

  Charlie went in. The crow was sitting on the arm of the chair.

  “Is-is-is that yours?” Charlie asked.

  “Hopfoot? He doesn’t belong to me, but we’re friends,” Agatha replied. “I knew his mother.” Hopfoot bent his head and Agatha stroked her fingers down his neck and back.

  “I’ve made the p-p-powder,” Charlie announced.

  Agatha held out her hand. Her eyes widened when she saw the bottle. “Where did you get this?”

  “It was ou-ou-outside our house,” Charlie explained, “in our g-garden.”

  “I see,” said Agatha. She turned the bottle over in her hands. A funny expression crossed her face – a little wince of pain – and then, as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone. When she looked at Charlie again, her purple eyes seemed darker.

  She undid the bottle and took a sniff.

  “Not bad,” she said. She took another sniff. “Apple?” She lifted her eyebrows.

  Charlie nodded. “I u-u-used wood from the ap-p-p-ple tree to grind it.”

  Agatha nodded again.

  “Is-is that OK?”

  “Apple is good for healing.” Agatha put the stopper back on the bottle. “Now. You need to sprinkle it on to Suzy,” she said. “Don’t get your hopes up. You know what they say,” she said as she shrugged, “not every spell works a charm.”

  On her way to school, Charlie went over her list of possible strategies for sprinkling the powder on to Suzy:

  Follow Suzy into the loo and blow powder over her cubicle. (Flaw: hard to know when Suzy will need a wee.)

  Pretend to trip over and accidentally pour it on to Suzy. (Downside: I’ll look like an enormous klutz.)

  Place a cup over a doorway so it falls on Suzy as she walks in. (What if she isn’t the first one through the door?)

  Put it in her umbrella so when she opens it the powder will fall on her. (What if she doesn’t have an umbrella?)

  Put it into her hat (see flaw with umbrella).

  Blow it on to her from a distance using a specially constructed long funnel.

  She wasn’t particularly happy with any of the plans. One thing was clear though: she would need to find Suzy when no one else was around. Unfortunately this was not easy. Suzy always had people hanging about her, chatting and giggling.

  She’d kept an eye out for Suzy at first break, but there had been no sign of her. It was going to be hard enough to find a way to get the powder on to Suzy as it was, let alone if she couldn’t actually find her.

  The bell rang for lunch and Charlie still hadn’t seen Suzy. Maybe she was ill? Maybe she was on a school trip? Charlie chewed her lip. There was only one thing for it: she’d have to go into the canteen to look for her.

  Ever since her first day – the day her voice had stopped – Charlie had avoided the canteen. There were too many people sitting together in groups, people who actually had friends to hang out with. Charlie would look like such a loser sitting on her own. Or worse, someone might sit with her and try to talk to her! She cringed as she pictured it. No – the library was much safer. It was nice and quiet and, although she wasn’t supposed to eat in there, if she hid her sandwich halfway down her jumper she could take sneaky bites when the librarian wasn’t looking.

  But today – today she had to face the canteen. She pulled the heavy door open and slipped in. She remembered what Spiky had said that first day about how Year Twelve and Thirteen always sat at the tables by the window, and she chose a seat near the side, with full view of the Year Twelve table.

  From behind her wall of hair Charlie glanced around the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. Oh no! There was Kat! She was by herself about three tables away. Her short red hair was decorated with a bright blue scarf, tied in a massive bow that flopped over her forehead. She was playing with her food, making her mashed potato into a large white mountain. Charlie looked away quickly. She spotted Suzy up at the till, swiping her thumb on the reader. Phew! She was here. Now it was just a matter of getting her by herself. Charlie really didn’t fancy pouring strange powder on her in front of the whole school.

  She watched as Suzy made her way to the Year Twelve table. Suzy looked tired and unhappy. She was pale and there were dark shadows under her eyes. One of her friends got up from the table to hug her. Charlie winced. It was the school show next week – Charlie had seen the posters up everywhere. Today was Wednesday. On Sunday, Suzy would lose her voice, and on Monday night she would be up on stage singing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”. Or, by then, croaking it. Charlie screwed up her fists. She had to find a way to use the powder.

  She stood and began to cross the canteen. She would wait for Suzy by the common room. She was bound to go there after lunch, and maybe, Charlie crossed her fingers, maybe she’d be alone. As she passed the tables she saw Kat looking at Suzy with a puzzled expression – no, it was more than puzzled; she looked worried, almost scared, like she thought Suzy was going to suddenly explode or something.

  With her head down, Charlie walked past Suzy, out of the canteen and along the corridor. She unzipped her bag as she walked and fished out the bottle of powder. She closed her fingers around the glass, and waited.

  A crowd approached, filled with people moving off to sports clubs or music rooms or the playground. Charlie craned her neck to see. Where was Suzy? There! She was there – in the middle of a group, walking towards Charlie. One by one her friends broke off. Soon there was just Suzy and Spiky. This was the moment! With shaking fingers Charlie undid the cork of the bottle. She tipped the powder on to her palm and cupped her hand ready. Forget all the strategies. She was just going to have to throw it and hope she didn’t look like a mad person.

  Suzy came closer. Time slowed. Charlie could count every footstep. She lifted her fist and drew back her arm to prepare for the throw. She brought it forward and…

  Oooof!

  Next thing she knew, Charlie was on the floor. Someone had pounced on her, knocking her down. She scrambled up but Suzy had gone. The powder was sprinkled all over the floor and, already, people were stepping in it and covering it with dirt and mud from the bottom of their shoes.

  “What are you doing to Suzy?” It was Kat, owner of the suspicious face and, it turned out, quite good pouncing skills.

  “N-n-n-nothing,” Charlie managed.

  “Yes you are! I’ve seen you. You’re making Suzy ill.”

  “N-no-no.” Charlie was panicking now.

  “Yes you are!”

  “I’m h-h-h-helping,” Charlie said.

  “How?” Kat’s freckles merged as she screwed up her face.

  “I can’t t-t-tell you,” Charlie’s voice wavered, “But I AM.”

  Kat put her hands on her hips and narrowed her green eyes. Her blue bow bobbed up and down. “I’m still watching you,” she said eventually, and stalked away.

  Charlie dashed into the loo. She slammed the cubicle door and locked it tight. Then she sat on the toilet seat and hid her head in her hands. She was running out of time. Five days left. Five days!

  “Sh-she’s everywhere I g-g-go!”

  Charlie was trying to explain to Agatha how annoying Kat was. It was like she was prowling the corridors, hunting Charlie down, watching her every move. It was weird the way she looked at Suzy too. Her eyes would dart from Suzy to Charlie and her forehead would crinkle up like she was looking at
something strange.

  Agatha didn’t seem to be listening though. She carried on tying bunches of herbs to the window frames. She had her back to Charlie and the laces at the back of her old dress were untangling as she reached up to add the last posy.

  There was something else too – something Charlie hadn’t told Agatha. When Kat had pushed her over, Charlie had felt the buzzing feeling again, spreading from her shoulders down to her feet. A moment later it had stopped. She decided she wouldn’t say anything to Agatha. Not until she felt it again.

  Instead she said, “Wh-what should I do now? I l-lost the powder. And I’m r-r-running out of time.”

  “Well, I’m not sure you can do much more.” Agatha shrugged as she answered. “It’s not long till Sunday. Shame though.” Her voice softened. “She was a cute baby, Suzy.”

  “D-d-did you see her?”

  “Yep. The whole village was invited to the christening. Well, everyone except Eliza.”

  “Why wasn’t Eliza invited?”

  Agatha had a floaty, faraway look in her eyes. “By then Eliza had become very strange,” she explained. “She’d hidden herself away from everyone, even me. And I was her best friend. That book!” She spat the word crossly and Charlie’s eyes widened. “I told her no good would come of it. I told her not to touch dark magic. Tcha!” She took a long breath. “She couldn’t help it, I guess. The pull of the dark is so strong, you see. In the end she just gave in to it. Anyway…” She shook herself and stood up. “Everyone avoided her. They thought she was odd. So the Evans family didn’t invite her.”

  “Wh-what happened at the chr-christening?”

  “Everyone was giving gifts: you know, photo albums, jewellery, a music box. I gave her a singing voice…”

  “You did?”

  “Yep. Had to whisper the spell, of course. Remember what I told you about not being noticed?”

  Charlie nodded.

  “I sprinkled the potion on her really quickly, when no one was watching,” Agatha said proudly. “One of my finest potions! That girl has been singing like a nightingale for almost seventeen years.”