by Lynne North
‘I’ll leave you to settle in soon, Gertie,’ said Miss Fiendish, who Gertie had forgotten was there at all. ‘But before I go, I want to mention the lights.’ She pointed a bony finger up at the black iron wall brackets. They were smaller than the ones in the hallway, but looked much the same. There were four, high on the walls of the small bedroom.
Gertie stared up at them and waited.
‘We need to try them out, Gertie,’ continued the teacher. ‘Not all of our students know the Fire Spell very well when they first arrive, so all the lights are set up to respond to the simple phrase Lights on!’ She had said the last two words in a louder and more commanding voice. Flickering flames immediately rose from the brackets, casting light across the room.
‘Lights off!’ Miss Fiendish then ordered. They did as they were told right away.
‘Your turn,’ she said to Gertie in a quieter voice.
Gertie felt quite embarrassed at having to try in front of her new teacher, so she looked down at her toes and whispered ‘lights on.’
‘Good first try,’ replied Miss Fiendish, who was obviously a very nice witch. ‘But, let’s try it again, looking at the lights, and a little louder shall we?’
‘Encouraged by her teacher’s gentle voice (gentle for a witch that is), Gertie stared up at the nearest light and said more loudly ‘Lights on!’
No one was more surprised than Gertie (except maybe Gran), when they DID come on!
‘It’s always good for the new students to have an early success,’ Miss Fiendish explained to Ma and Gran. ‘The lights are enchanted beforehand so they usually respond quite well to everyone.’
‘Thank you,’ replied Ma. ‘I’m sure my Gertie will be happy here.’
‘I’m happy already’ replied Gertie with a smile. ‘I’ve only just got here, and I’ve learned my first spell!’
Miss Fiendish grimaced kindly. ‘We will meet in the dining hall for something to eat and introductions at 5.30, once all the families have left,’ she added, pointing at the clock on Gertie’s wall. It was shaped like a cobweb, black with white numbers, and had two small broomsticks pointing at the twelve and the one. ‘That gives you four and a half hours to settle in and say your goodbyes. See you later.’ With that, the teacher left.
Gertie looked around herself in awe. The room only had a small bed with a cabinet next to it, a writing desk and chair, and a single wardrobe, but Gertie thought she was in the best place in the world.
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.
Chapter Seven
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 pond
ered 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 a
sleep 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!’
Chapter Eight
Gertie was looking forward to her first real lesson, but not without some anxiety. She was thinking of the spells she had tried and failed (quite miserably). At least only Ma and Gran had known about them. Now, she would be in a class full of other witches and warlocks, some of them quite nasty. She also didn’t know much about Mr Wolfsbane, but he looked quite stern. He did, in fact, look like a wolf. His black hair was swept back meeting in a point on his forehead, and his teeth were huge, making his whole jaw jut out. Gertie hadn’t heard him talk much, but even his voice sounded a bit like a growl. He also looked very hairy, even the backs of his hands and his pointy ears. Mr Wolfsbane was the teacher for the Grimace class. He looked like he would be very good at it.
