The Worst Witch to the Rescue

by Unknown

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ildred sat on her bed, listening to the message from her lost tortoise with a sinking heart.

  ‘Are you sure she took him all the way up there?’ she asked, clutching at straws. ‘Perhaps she just put him in a cupboard in Drusilla’s room?’

  ‘No, it was the hollow pine outside the school gates,’ insisted Cyril. ‘She was really definite about it.’

  ‘But it’s about thirty metres high!’ said Mildred. ‘The other trees are really tall anyway, but that one’s a good three metres above the others.’

  She closed her eyes, imagining going out on a rescue mission on such an awful night when five minutes ago she had been tucked up with Tabby, thinking how nice it felt to be safe and warm inside.

  ‘He’s terrified of heights,’ continued Cyril relentlessly. ‘He might fall out and the wind’s getting worse. I think there’s going to be a storm.’

  As if to underline his words, the wind rose to a screaming pitch and a squall of rain suddenly lashed against the castle walls, spraying an arc of drops through the narrow window.

  ‘He really is scared,’ said Cyril. ‘His voice went all wobbly when he told me where they were taking him. I promised I’d ask you to help. Will you help?’

  ‘Of course I will,’ said Mildred, trying hard to sound confident and capable. ‘I’ll just fetch my broom.’

  Tabby burrowed back under the covers at the mention of the word ‘broom’. Mildred sat on the edge of the bed and stroked him reassuringly.

  ‘It’s OK, Tab,’ she said gently. ‘This is an illegal mission, so you’re excused broomstick duty tonight.’ She turned to the toad. ‘Where would you like to go, Cyril, now that your task is done?’

  ‘Could you pop me back outside the school gates?’ said Cyril. ‘Then I can make my way down through the forest. I love this sort of weather actually. It’s very good for the complexion.’

  Mildred glanced at the toad’s dry and knobbly skin and stifled a giggle.

  Up in the hollow pine, Einstein was trying hard not to panic. The wind had set up a constant moan, with sudden bursts of extra force that felt as if they would snap the already weak and hollowed tree in two.

  ‘She isn’t going to come,’ thought Einstein dismally. ‘The whole tree will disintegrate and I’ll be smashed into tiny pieces.’

  He tried keeping himself tightly hidden inside his shell, but the horrible noise outside was so frightening that he couldn’t stop himself coming out to check. The darkness all around him and the rain spraying in through the entrance made him feel even worse, so he retreated inside his shell – then he came out again – then he went back in again. In the end he did this so many times that he was beside himself with exhausted confusion.

  ‘Please come and get me out of here, Mildred Hubble,’ he said desperately. ‘Please.’

  Mildred was doing her best. She had decided not to involve Maud or Enid this time. When she imagined waking Maud up and announcing that she needed help rescuing an escaped tortoise from the top of the tallest pine tree in the forest in the middle of a gale, she could hear how ridiculous it sounded.

  ‘No, Mildred,’ she said to herself. ‘You’re on your own with this one.’

  The summer dress was too flimsy for an adventure like this, so Mildred put her school cardigan on over her pyjamas to keep a bit warmer and tucked the trouser ends into her socks. She wrapped her cloak around her, tied it in the middle with her school sash to stop it blowing about and set off to the schoolyard, the toad in one hand and her trusty broom in the other.

  When she reached the side door, which was smaller and easier to unbolt, she was suddenly struck with terror as she looked out into the rain-swept noisy darkness. Mildred was afraid of the dark – a most embarrassing problem for a trainee witch – and it didn’t get much darker and more frightening than the night waiting for her outside.

  ‘He must be petrified all the way up there,’ said Cyril, as if reading her thoughts. ‘Just put me down here if you like. It’s only a short hop to the gates and there’s a ten-centimetre gap for me to squeeze under.’

  ‘All right,’ said Mildred. ‘Thank you so much for telling me where he is. I’m sure we’ll be OK once I’ve found the tree.’

  For a mad moment, she wondered if she might ask Cyril to come with her for company as she watched him hop and fop down the steps and disappear into the storm.

  ‘What am I thinking about?’ she asked herself. ‘Making friends with a toad! It’s funny how perfectly he speaks English, though. I wonder if I lived in a different country, would the toad speak in that language? And does the spell adapt to any language in the world? Perhaps I’ve discovered an international spell. Mildred Hubble, international spell-maker!’

  At that moment a gust of wind banged the door loudly back against the inside corridor. Mildred grabbed it and waited nervously, straining her ears to hear if anyone had noticed, but no one came. She decided to take a lantern from the corridor and tie it on to the front of her broom to light her way. The only thing to use was her sash, which she took from her waist, causing the cloak to billow out around her.

  ‘OK, broom,’ she said, trying to sound like a person in charge. ‘Hover. That’s right!’

  Mildred stepped outside, with the broom doing its best to keep steady in the gusting wind.

  The door slammed deafeningly shut behind her. ‘Can’t be helped,’ thought Mildred desperately as she arranged herself side-saddle on the broom and tucked her cloak firmly underneath her. ‘OK, little broom. Up, up, up and over the wall.’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  iss Hardbroom was having a late-evening cup of hot chocolate with Miss Cackle in Miss Cackle’s study.

  ‘There’s a door banging downstairs somewhere,’ said Miss Cackle, offering Miss Hardbroom a biscuit from a large tin. ‘Sounds like a nasty storm’s brewing out there.’

  ‘Very nasty,’ agreed Miss Hardbroom, taking a custard cream and resting it in her saucer. ‘I was just wondering, Miss Cackle, how much longer we have to plough on trying to educate Mildred Hubble in this establishment.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Miss Cackle, looking up from the tin, where she was trying to decide whether to take a chocolate biscuit or a pink wafer, or maybe both. ‘What’s she done now?’

  ‘Everything,’ said Miss Hardbroom wearily. ‘It would take all night to list the events and we’ve only been back for one day. I don’t think I have the stamina to struggle through the entire term trying to keep Mildred Hubble in some sort of order. I honestly don’t know how she does it – she’s a sort of trouble magnet.’

  ‘But rather sweet, don’t you think?’ said Miss Cackle with a fond smile. ‘Always considering others and such a good owner to that hopeless cat of hers.’

  ‘That’s all very well,’ said Miss Hardbroom crisply. ‘But having a rather sweet nature doesn’t necessarily equip a girl to be a suitable pupil at this school – the finest witches’ academy for miles around.’

  ‘The only witches’ academy for miles around,’ laughed Miss Cackle, attempting to inject a little humour before her colleague plunged into an endless list of Mildred’s faults.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Miss Hardbroom, suddenly peering out of the window.

  ‘What’s what?’ asked Miss Cackle, getting up reluctantly from her comfortable armchair.

  ‘Look,’ said Miss Hardbroom. ‘There’s a light flickering over there.’

  ‘Where, Miss Hardbroom?’ said Miss Cackle. ‘I can’t see anything.’

  ‘Just outside the gates,’ said Miss Hardbroom. ‘It’s disappeared now – no, there it is, higher up. It looks like a giant firefly.’

  ‘We don’t have any giant fireflies, do we?’ asked Miss Cackle hopefully.

  ‘They don’t actually exist, Miss Cackle,’ said Miss Hardbroom witheringly. ‘I’d better go and check.’

  ‘Surely not, Miss Hardbroom!’ exclaimed Miss Cackle. ‘You mustn’t go out there on such a night. I’m sure it’s nothing.’
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  ‘It looks like a definite something to me,’ said Miss Hardbroom sternly. ‘It keeps disappearing and then reappearing several metres higher up. Definitely “something” enough to investigate.’

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  ildred was hovering her way very slowly and carefully up towards the top of the trees outside the school gates. She couldn’t tell which one was the hollow pine yet, but figured that she might be able to see it by its extra height when she reached the very top. She knew it was right in front of the gates, which was a help. The wind was especially ferocious this far up, getting stronger the higher she rose, and the valiant broomstick kept lurching every time it was hit by a particularly strong gust or a cannon-burst of rain. Mildred’s unsecured cloak didn’t help, billowing like a sail or suddenly twisting above her like a faulty parachute.

  Every now and then, she ducked behind the front row of trees and held on to a branch to have a rest, out of the full force of the storm. The trouble was that if you tried to hover behind the first row of trees, you were blown into the ones behind, which grew very close together. The best way to ascend was, unfortunately, out in the open, even though it was very difficult to keep your balance.

  During one such rest, gasping to get her breath back, Mildred suddenly felt a glow of pride that she was able to control a broomstick in these freak conditions.

  ‘It’s funny what you can do when it’s an emergency,’ she thought. ‘Better get going again before my luck runs out.’

  ‘Einstein!’ she called. ‘Einstein! Where are you?’ But the wind whisked her voice away like thistledown.

  Einstein was trying very hard (and not succeeding) to pull himself together. His head, legs and tail were zooming in and out of his shell like an insane cuckoo clock and he was muttering to himself, attempting to take his mind off the fact that the tree was now making ominous deep creaking sounds.

  When he saw the flickering light from Mildred’s broom outside the entrance to the hollow, he thought it was lightning and this was the very last straw. Yelling one last, desperate ‘HELP!’ he pulled himself back into the deepest depths of his shell and switched off.

  ‘Einstein?!’ yelled Mildred, just catching the ‘Help!’ above the lashing rain. ‘Where are you?’

  Mildred wobbled her way towards the place where she thought the voice had come from and the light from the lantern caught the edge of the hollow. She few to the entrance and hung on to the scrubby branches so that the lantern lit up the inside of the hollow and Einstein’s closed-up shell.

  ‘It’s all right, Einstein!’ Mildred exclaimed. ‘I’m here! I’ll have to button you inside my cardigan so you don’t fall. Don’t be scared. I’ll hold you very tightly. I won’t let you fall.’

  Steadying herself by clutching the edge of the hollow with one hand, she gently lifted the terrified tortoise out with the other and peered into the deep cave-like area at the front of his shell, where he had retracted himself so far that he was invisible.

  ‘Say something, Einsy,’ she said affectionately, buttoning him tightly inside her cardigan in case the exhausted broomstick lurched in the wind and threw them both off. ‘You’re safe now. I’ll have you down in a jiffy. We’ll be back in the warm before you know it.’

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  oing down was so much more pleasant than going up, as the wind diminished in strength towards the forest floor. Mildred breathed a sigh of relief when her feet bounced on the grass and she could finally stand upright again, although she felt slightly unsteady rather like the feeling you have when you’ve been on a boat for a long time and finally reach land.

  ‘Come on, Einstein,’ she said, peering down the front of her cardigan. ‘Speak to me! You’re OK now, we’re on planet earth again. Isn’t this just my luck. The best broomstick handling I’ve ever done and no one to witness it.’

  ‘Just one witness, Mildred Hubble,’ said the most unwelcome voice that Mildred could possibly hear.

  ‘Miss Hardbroom!’ exclaimed Mildred, jumping right off her feet in horrified surprise as she saw her form mistress, wrapped in a sodden cloak standing close behind her, holding up a lantern. ‘Oh, Miss Hardbroom, I know this looks bad, but –’

  ‘Spare me the sound of your voice for a few minutes, Mildred,’ said Miss Hardbroom, smoothing back a tendril of dripping hair. ‘Let’s get out of this wind before you launch into the usual raving explanation of your tiresome behaviour. Miss Cackle is waiting in her study.’

  Miss Cackle was just making a second cup of hot chocolate when her study door crashed open and a dripping Miss Hardbroom swept in, guiding the drenched Mildred in front of her.

  ‘Oh, my goodness!’ exclaimed Miss Cackle. ‘Miss Hardbroom, Mildred, come over here and stand by the fire. Mildred, take off that wet cloak and cardigan at once! Miss Hardbroom, please remove your cloak and get yourself warm. You’ll both catch pneumonia in all those wet things.’

  Mildred wrestled her way out of the cloak, which had twisted itself like a scarf around her shoulders, and began, very carefully, to unbutton her cardigan. Miss Cackle was watching her intently, waiting to take the wet garments and drape them near the fire, so there was no hiding Einstein, who was still lurking deep inside his shell.

  ‘Good gracious me!’ said Miss Cackle. ‘Is that a tortoise, Mildred?’

  ‘Yes, Miss Cackle,’ said Mildred bleakly. ‘He’s called Einstein. He can speak, Miss Cackle, but he’s been so upset being up in the tree that I think he’s gone into his shell – if you see what I mean – with the shock of it all. Tortoises are really afraid of heights and they have terrible claustrophobia, so it’s no wonder he’s in shock.’

  ‘How did he get up the tree in the first place, Mildred?’ asked Miss Hardbroom in a matter-of-fact voice. ‘They don’t fly – as well as having claustrophobia and a fear of heights – do they? Or is this just another little-known fact about tortoises that only you are privileged to know?’

  ‘Someone took him up there, Miss Hardbroom,’ said Mildred.

  ‘Do you happen to know who that someone was, Mildred?’ asked Miss Cackle.

  ‘I think it was Ethel Hallow, Miss Cackle,’ said Mildred miserably.

  ‘And how do you know it was Ethel?’ asked Miss Hardbroom.

  ‘Her toad told me,’ said Mildred, realizing how mad this sounded. ‘You know, the one she used today in potions. He’s called Cyril. He could speak, so he hopped along to tell me what had happened. He knocked on the door with his feet and –’

  ‘So where is the toad now, Mildred?’ asked Miss Hardbroom.

  ‘I let him go,’ said Mildred, ‘in the yard. They don’t mind the rain – in fact, they actually prefer it – and he wanted to go home.’

  Miss Hardbroom stared in wonder, first at Mildred and then at Miss Cackle. ‘Where did the tortoise come from, Mildred?’ asked Miss Cackle, looking totally baffled.

  ‘I think this is going to be a very long story, Headmistress,’ said Miss Hardbroom. ‘I’ll take charge of the traumatized tortoise for the night and we can assemble the relevant pupils and the tortoise at some point tomorrow. Not Cyril, though – a pity, as I’m sure he could fill us in on several important details.’

  ‘Could I keep Einstein with me, Miss Hardbroom?’ asked Mildred desperately. ‘He still hasn’t come out of his shell and I’m really worried about him.’

  ‘He’ll be quite safe with me, Mildred,’ said Miss Hardbroom. ‘You may take a hot bath to warm yourself up, but be quick about it.’

  ‘Could we have the meeting early, Miss Hardbroom?’ asked Mildred. ‘It’s just that the spell only works until noon and he won’t be able to speak again after that.’

  Miss Hardbroom held the shell up and looked into the dark interior, where Einstein’s front legs were pulled in tightly to shield him from view.

  ‘Are you sure he can speak, Mildred?’ she asked.

  ‘Perhaps he’s hibernating,’ said Miss Cackle brightly.

  ‘They’re just coming out of hibernation a
t this time of year, Miss Cackle,’ said Miss Hardbroom waspishly. ‘Tomorrow morning then, Mildred, before assembly.’

  ‘Oh, thank you so much, Miss Hardbroom,’ said Mildred gratefully, ‘and please could you put him somewhere nice and warm. They hate the cold and he’s had such a terrible time.’

  ‘I do know a little bit about tortoises, Mildred,’ said Miss Hardbroom. ‘Now off to bed with you and don’t forget the hot bath.’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  right and early next morning, there was a tap on Mildred’s door while she was still getting dressed, ready to go down to breakfast.

  Mildred opened the door and found a nervous-looking first-year named Mavis standing outside.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Mildred, trying to sound kindly. The first-years looked so small and shy and Mildred remembered only too well what that felt like.

  ‘I’ve brought a message from Miss Hardbroom,’ said Mavis. ‘She wants to see you in Miss Cackle’s study right away.’

  ‘OK, Mave,’ said Mildred. ‘Message received. Off you go – and ask Maud to save me some toast, would you?’

  ‘Of course!’ replied Mavis proudly, glad to be of assistance to Mildred Hubble, whose adventures were legendary throughout the school.

  Mildred brushed and replaited her hair as tightly as possible and smoothed her dress, hoping to make a good impression from the first moment of what could prove to be a very difficult interview.

  Mildred knocked firmly on Miss Cackle’s door.

  ‘Come in, Mildred,’ said Miss Cackle, beckoning her inside. ‘Take a seat.’

  Mildred was the last to arrive. Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom were already seated on one side of the desk and Ethel was sitting bolt upright on the other, looking annoyed. Einstein, still invisible inside his shell, had been placed in Miss Cackle’s overflowing intray, which made rather a comfortable nest for him.