Miss Hardbroom and Miss Cackle were in front of everyone and Mildred heard Ethel say, ‘I just went to see if Mildred’s cat was all right, Miss Hardbroom. Any cat of hers seems to become nervous of flying – even one like Ebony.’
‘Thank you, Ethel,’ said Miss Hardbroom. ‘Most thoughtful of you, my dear… Mildred!’ she called over her shoulder into the wind. ‘What on earth is the matter with Ebony?’
Tabby was scrabbling at the basket and miaowing at the top of his voice.
‘He ate rather a large mouse, Miss Hardbroom,’ replied Mildred. ‘I don’t think he’s feeling very well.’
‘We’ll take a look at him when we land for our breakfast,’ Miss Hardbroom called back.
Mildred was horrified. They had not even arrived at Grim Cove and she had already got herself into the most awful trouble. One glimpse of Tabby, and Miss Hardbroom would probably expel her on the spot, holiday or no holiday.
fter an hour of flying, everyone was beginning to feel exhausted and hungry. Although the sun had risen into a perfectly blue sky, the wind was cold so high up, and Tabby’s desperate complaining was beginning to grate on everyone’s nerves.
Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom signalled to the girls to begin their descent to an area where a loop of river passed through a wood with a large shingle bank on either side of the water.
‘Breakfast at last!’ whispered Maud to Mildred. ‘I’m starving.’
Mildred wasn’t listening. She was wondering how to get out of having Tabby examined by Miss Hardbroom.
‘Land at the shingle bank!’ called Miss Hardbroom, as they descended like a flock of birds into the woodland. ‘Only a quarter of an hour for our break, girls. We must press on as soon as possible.’
Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom landed perfectly, followed by Ethel and the rest of Form Two, all except Mildred. Tabby finally stopped
yowling as he and Mildred fell off into a dense thicket several yards from the landing-place.
‘I’m sorry, Miss Hardbroom,’ Mildred’s voice called apologetically from the middle of the bushes. ‘There’s so much on the back of my broom, I think I must have put too much into my suitcase. At least Tab… Ebony’s stopped making such a noise. He looks much better now, what I can see of him in the gloom. I seem to be a bit stuck.’
‘Shall I go and help her, Miss Hard-broom?’ asked Maud.
‘No, Maud,’ said Miss Hardbroom wearily. She turned in the direction of Mildred’s bush. ‘Just stay where you are, Mildred. I think the sight of you would put me off my breakfast at this moment. We’ll pull you out when we set off again.’
Mildred breathed a sigh of relief as she wedged herself into the branches of a rather prickly bush and rummaged in her suitcase for her package of sandwiches.
‘It worked, Tab!’ she whispered. ‘They’ve forgotten about you. Now please calm down for the rest of the journey. I might break my neck if I have to make myself crash a second time! Look, Tab, they’re tuna sandwiches, you can have some if you like. I don’t think you’ll be too keen on apple juice though.’
For a while there was no sound except the birds singing and the rustling of paper bags as the girls demolished their food. Somehow, whenever Miss Hardbroom was present, no one ever dared to speak, although they were allowed to chat during meal times provided the noise didn’t get too loud.
‘Ethel,’ said Miss Hardbroom, as they tidied away the breakfast things, ‘would you kindly assist Mildred in her plight among the bushes so that we may continue on our journey?’
Ethel bustled about self-importantly, attaching a rope to the back of her broomstick. Then she took off on the broom with a lasso of rope over her arm, rather like a cowboy, and called to Mildred to get ready.
Mildred arranged her suitcase and cat-basket over the back of the broom and caught the rope, while Ethel
hovered overhead. In fact, Ethel dropped the rope on to Mildred’s head so abruptly that it nearly knocked her out.
‘Whoops!’ said Ethel. ‘Silly me! Are you ready, Mildred? One, two, three, UP!’ And she sped off at forty miles per hour, while Mildred, plus broom and baggage, was jerked into the air flat out at the end of the rope, hanging on for dear life.
‘Thank you, Ethel!’ called Miss Cackle, who was watching with Miss Hardbroom. ‘That will do, dear. Mildred is well clear of the bushes now.’
Fortunately, Tabby seemed less hysterical for the second half of the journey. Perhaps he was exhausted, because he curled up in the gloomy basket and fell fast asleep, even though the wind whistled through the wickerwork and blew his fur the wrong way round.
ildred sat hunched on her broomstick feeling tired and anxious. She was beginning to feel that the Operation Rescue-Tabby plan had been a mistake. Even if no one noticed that firstly Tabby was missing from the kitchen and secondly Ebony had resumed residence, she wouldn’t ever be able to let Tabby out at Gloom Castle or everyone would know. Perhaps she could just keep him in her room and only let him out at night when everyone was in bed, or if they had to share a room she could choose Maud and then let her in on the secret.
‘There it is, girls!’ Miss Cackle called out so suddenly that everyone jumped. ‘There’s the coast, and there’s Gloom Castle. What a spectacular sight!’
The coastline was indeed a spectacular sight, though not exactly what the pupils of Form Two had hoped for.
For a start, the sun had disappeared
behind ink-black clouds and it was just beginning to rain. Then there was the coastline itself, which consisted of mile after mile of amazingly high and rugged cliffs meeting an angry-looking navy-blue sea amid a mass of jagged rocks and shadowy coves. The waves smashed against the cliffs, sending up clouds of spray so high that the convoy of pupils and teachers could taste the salt in the air.
‘Look, Mildred,’ said Maud, pointing to the castle, which was the only habitation in sight as far as they could see.
Gloom Castle looked even more forbidding than Miss Cackle’s Academy. Delicate scarves of mist and sea-spray hung around its battlements. The windows were slit windows, like the Academy, but larger so that more wind could howl up and down the corridors, and seagulls perched screeching on every roof-top and window-ledge.
What seemed like several miles below was Grim Cove, with a tiny shingle and stone beach, a rather sinister-looking cave, a small boat at anchor and a large rock shaped like a cat’s head about half a mile out to sea. There were hundreds of tiny steps cut into the cliff-face leading down from the castle to the bay.
Mildred shuddered. ‘No wonder they call it Grim Cove!’ she muttered, as a squall of rain hit them like a water-cannon.
‘Begin the descent, girls!’ Miss Hard-broom’s military voice whipped along the wind. ‘Head for the inner courtyard.’
The descent was more difficult than normal, for various reasons. First of all it was difficult to see where they were going, with their cloaks tying themselves in knots and the blinding rain and wind in their faces, and secondly they did not know the layout of the castle and were attempting to land in a small enclosed courtyard inside the battlements.
To do this, they had to hover like helicopters and inch their way downward. Even Ethel found it heavy going, but eventually they all arrived in the rain-lashed courtyard, soaked to the skin and frozen stiff. Fortunately for Mildred nearly all the cats were yowling and screaming with rage, as the rain had driven in through their baskets and drenched them. No one gave Tabby a second thought.
The girls lined up in their usual rows trying to look as neat as possible under the circumstances, while Miss Hardbroom smoothed her hair and robes and Miss Cackle adjusted her hat.
Without any warning, the two carved wooden doors leading into the
yard burst open, and there was Mr Rowan-Webb standing at the top of the stone stairs smiling at them.
‘Welcome! Welcome!’ he said, waving a hand into the dark corridor behind him. ‘What a foul day to make such a journey. Come in at once and get yourselves warm.’
He looked a lot better than when they had last seen him, which was at Hallowe’en, when Mildred had presented him to the Chief Magician, Mr Hellibore, and he had been changed from a frog to a human again. Then, his clothes were in rags, but now they were magnificent – a fine shade of emerald green with a bottle-green cloak and pointed hat. The cloak was beautifully embroidered all over with rainbow-coloured stars and moons.
Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom led the way up the steps into the castle and Form Two followed meekly behind, leaving wet footprints where they trooped along. The doors swung silently closed behind them, shutting out almost all the light except for a dim lantern hanging on the wall every few yards or so.
They made a curious sight, walking in single file with their broomsticks and bags hovering along behind them, and the disgruntled cats miaowing crossly from the depths of the baskets. The dim lanterns threw huge shadows up the walls as they passed by.
Mr Rowan-Webb led them into a huge stone hall very like the one at Miss Cackle’s Academy only more sparsely furnished and much more draughty. There was a fireplace the size of an ice-cream van, but sadly no fire.
‘Do sit down, ladies,’ said Mr Rowan-Webb, indicating several faded sofas and chairs, most of them with the springs and stuffing hanging out. ‘You must be worn out after all that flying.’
Miss Hardbroom turned to the pupils, who were standing in a soggy huddle, unsure whether ‘ladies’ referred to them as well as Miss Hardbroom and their headmistress.
‘You may sit down, girls,’ said Miss Hardbroom. ‘Tell your broomsticks to stand at ease.’
‘So sorry about the weather,’ apologized Mr Rowan-Webb. ‘It’s usually quite pleasant at this time of year. Anyway, there’s a nice fire to warm you all up until I show you to your rooms.’
Everyone looked pointedly at the empty grate.
Mr Rowan-Webb looked too.
‘Dear me!’ he exclaimed. ‘Do forgive me, ladies. I really am so absentminded these days.’
He muttered the words of a spell, waved his arms at the fireplace, and with a whoosh! a glorious log fire appeared, banked several feet high and throwing out such a fierce heat that those nearest had to back away.
‘Now then, where was I?’ said Mr Rowan-Webb. ‘Oh yes – rooms. I’ve given you three rooms in the west wing. One small room each for you, Miss Cackle, and you, Miss Hardbroom, and a large dormitory for all
the girls. The girls’ dormitory only has camp-beds and cushions and sleeping-bags – rather a rag-bag of bedding, I’m afraid. There are only two proper guest rooms with brass bedsteads, and naturally those are for the teachers. Never mind, it’s all fun on holiday, isn’t it?’
‘I shan’t be here during the week, though I shall come back on the last day. I’m still visiting various friends and relations whom I haven’t seen for decades, since my awful incarceration in the Academy pond, and I promised Aunt Ethelburga a few days of my time.
‘Now then, what else do I have to tell you – oh yes, there is a boat in the cove, but I think it’s best not to take her out, as there are rather a lot of rocks round and about. Any questions before you set off to unpack your things?’
No one dared to speak.
‘Come along now, girls,’ said Miss Cackle cheerily. ‘Don’t be shy. There must be something you’d like to know.’
Enid put up her hand.
‘I was wondering, Mr Rowan-Webb,’ she said, ‘if there are any legends or stories about caves or smugglers around the castle and cove.’
‘There’s only one tale I’ve ever heard,’ said Mr Rowan-Webb. ‘There’s a strange rock shaped like a cat’s head, out to sea directly in front of the cove. A local tale tells how a sailor was once shipwrecked and struggled
to the rock in raging seas, holding on to a chest full of gold and silver coins and jewellery. He crammed the chest into a crevice in the rock and swam to the shore when the sea had calmed. But when he went back by boat with friends to collect the chest, he couldn’t find it. Legend says that it is still there somewhere on Cat’s Head Rock. I must say it would be rather handy to find it, as the rock belongs to me and I could do with the money for a few repairs to the castle! It’s so difficult to get to it by boat, what with the currents and rocks, that no one has ever really bothered to investigate, especially as it probably isn’t a true story anyway. Any other questions?’
No one else spoke.
‘Right,’ said Mr Rowan-Webb. ‘If you’ve all warmed up a bit, allow me to show you to your rooms.’
he dormitory was even more depressing than the castle and the coastline. Form Two stood and looked around in horror after they had been left to unpack.
There was a row of glassless windows at either end, which made the room like a wind-tunnel. Enough beds for all the pupils lined the other two walls, but they were, as the magician had said, a rather poor assembly of camp-beds, heaps of cushions, moth-eaten foam rubber and ancient cardboard-stiff blankets. The beds nearest to the windows were wet from the rain, which sprayed and dripped its way in.
Ethel dived for the only proper bed with a mattress, in the centre of one of the rows, and plonked her bags and broomstick on top.
‘Bags I this one!’ she announced. ‘What a dump! Thanks for the holiday, Mildred Hubble. It’s going to be a laugh a minute. At least the Academy will seem like a real holiday camp after a week in this place.’
Mildred didn’t reply, as the entire Form was now scrambling for the best selection of beds.
‘Come on, Mil!’ called Enid, diving on to what looked like an old hospital trolley. ‘There’s a camp-bed next to mine with two blankets on!’
‘No there isn’t!’ exclaimed Drusilla, a friend of Ethel, who barged Mildred out of the way and slammed her belongings on to the camp-bed with such force that it collapsed to the floor.
Mildred saw that the only place left was the worst one of all – a woven rush mat with a mildew-coloured sleeping-bag, laid directly underneath the window.
‘Thanks for trying, Enid,’ said Mildred, arranging her suitcase and broom against the wall and sitting down on the mat with the cat-basket hugged to her chest.
All the other members of Form Two
were busily letting out their cats for a stroll and a stretch and the room was suddenly full of black cats miaowing and entwining themselves round their owners’ legs.
‘Aren’t you going to give Ebony some exercise?’ asked Maud from her position four beds away, as she cuddled her own cat, Midnight.
Mildred shot to her feet.
‘Er, I think I’m going to take him to Miss Hardbroom,’ she said. ‘Just in case he really is ill after making all that noise on the way here.’
And before anyone else could comment on the matter, she seized the basket and rushed out of the room.
Outside in the dark corridor, she stopped to contemplate what she was going to do with Tabby, now that they were all stuck in the same dormitory. If Ethel or Drusilla or anyone except Maud and Enid found out that she had defied the headmistress to bring Tabby, she would be in serious trouble.
As she stood and looked out of the window at the cove far below, she saw the boat bobbing up and down attached to a small breakwater, and a plan dawned in her mind like the thin shaft of sunlight which pierced the inky clouds above the castle.
‘Come on, Tab,’ she whispered. ‘You’re not going to like this one tiny bit, but it’s the only solution.’
aud carried her cat across to Enid’s trolley and sat down next to her friend. Enid looked up from sorting out piles of grey socks and underwear.
‘Mildred’s up to something,’ said Maud darkly. ‘I just know it.’
‘Well, I wish she’d let us in on the secret,’ said Enid crossly. ‘She’s been really strange for weeks – sort of vague and not quite with it.’
A shriek of laughter rang out from Ethel, who had overheard.
‘Do forgive me for stating the obvious, Maud,’ she said, ‘but Mildred Hubble is permanently vague and not q
uite with it. If I were you, I’d start worrying if she was suddenly alert and getting A plus for everything!’
‘Oh, do stop it, Ethel,’ said Maud. ‘No wonder Mildred gets in such a state with the likes of you hurling insults at her all the time. Anyway, you shouldn’t be eavesdropping on other people’s conversations. It’s not right. Come on, Enid, let’s move up to the other end so no one can hear us.’
If they had glanced out of the window at that moment, they would have seen Mildred, plus her cat-basket, making her way with great care down the cliff-face to the cove.
The rain had eased off to an unpleasant misty drizzle, which covered Mildred’s clothes and hair in a fine net of droplets. The wind had suddenly abated, which made the descent far less terrifying than Mildred had expected, though the wooden handrail had rotted away in places and the steps were very slippery from the rain and sea-spray.
Although she was most relieved to arrive all in one piece on the pebbly beach below, the sight of the sinister breakers relentlessly pounding into sizzling foam as they clawed at the shingle made Mildred’s heart begin to pound like the waves themselves.
Beyond the cove, which was actually quite sheltered from the wind by the height and shape of the cliff, the sea swelled alarmingly, as if a gigantic monster was breathing just beneath the surface and the strange Cat’s Head Rock sat bang in the middle of the horizon with white crests appearing where the waves dashed against it.
‘What a truly awful place, Tabby,’ whispered Mildred into the wicker
basket. ‘I should have left you in the nice warm kitchen instead of bringing you here. I’m so sorry, little cat. What a mistress you’re lumbered with — and to think that Miss Cackle thought I was stuck with you.’
The Worst Witch All at Sea Page 3
