by Katie Penryn
She rolled it about on her palm. “It’s amazing. It’s almost perfect and has a wonderful sheen.”
Gwinny scrunched up some kitchen towel, put it in a cup and passed it to Izzy. Izzy laid the pearl down in the roughly fashioned bed.
“You know,” she said. “It might be a good idea to visit one of the oyster farms in the neighborhood. Darennes the oyster farming area is only twenty miles up the coast. We could take this pearl along and ask about its life.”
Felix turned his attention to the wooden basket and detached the label from the side. “How about going to the farm the pearl came from? Éts. Frères Marin?” He whispered in an aside to Jimbo, “That’s Marin Brothers, Jimbo.”
Jimbo couldn’t speak French yet.
“Great idea,” said Izzy. “When shall we ask to visit?”
I was about to say tomorrow when Jimbo reminded me we had an appointment with the headmistress of his new primary school the next day.
“It’ll have to be the day after tomorrow,” I said. “Saturday.”
Felix left the kitchen to make the call taking the label with him. We other three oyster shuckers carried on with our work. I must have been overexcited because before I knew what had happened, blood poured from the soft pad below my thumb. The oyster knife had glanced off the shell and stuck itself deep into my palm.
“Ouch,” I shrieked dropping the knife and oyster onto the table and sucking the wound.
“Oh dear, first casualty,” said Gwinny hurrying me to the sink to wash my hand.
Garth picked up my oyster and chucked it in the bin.
Felix came back to find everyone fussing around me. Ridiculous really. Gwinny soon had the cut disinfected and bound up. I have to confess I wasn’t sorry to be taken off the oyster detail.
“So?” Izzy asked Felix.
“Monsieur Marin says Saturday’s fine. If we arrive at 10.30, he’ll show us around and we can have lunch there. Oysters, of course.”
Chapter 2
“What if she doesn’t like me?” asked Jimbo next morning as he jittered about in the hall waiting for me to get my things together to take him for his interview with his new head teacher.
I broke off searching for the car keys to give him a quick hug.
“Of course, she’ll like you. You’re James Munro. You’re special.”
“How’s she going to know that? I can’t speak French. I’m going to be all alone and no one will want to be friends with me. They’ll think I’m stupid.”
What had Sam done with my keys? He’d borrowed the car to take Emmanuelle, the mayor’s daughter, out to the movies the night before and he hadn’t put the keys back in the right place. The last thing I wanted that morning was a fuss. Jimbo needed to be calm and confident for our first visit to his new school.
Zag joined us in the hall and nudged my leg with his long nose. “Can I help, Penzi?” he asked in a doggy whisper.
“I can’t find my car keys. Sam had them last.”
“Hold on,” he said and loped off up the stairs.
He returned within minutes with the keys dangling from his mouth. I took them from him and thanked him.
“That’s okay,” he said wagging his tail with vigor. “Today is an important day for Jimbo. The keys were in the pocket of Sam’s jeans.”
Jimbo gave Zag a hug, I picked up my bag, and we left the house for the school, accompanied as always by Felix in his role as my bodyguard against all things evil in the natural world.
The École Primaire St. Justin lay outside the town walls to the south. This was Jimbo’s first sighting of where he was to spend the next few years of his life. The modern buildings boasted long walls of glass looking out towards the sea. The school had a good reputation. Felix walked with us to the entrance to the school and left us there to return to the car and wait for us.
Madame Bruno the head teacher met us at the front door saying she’d been looking out for us as school hadn’t opened yet. Her shoulder length dark brown hair shone with health as did her white teeth when she gave Jimbo a beaming smile. I liked her immediately. Jimbo lost some of his stiffness as he shook her hand. She didn’t let go of him but drew him into the school and along the corridor to her office.
When we had settled in our chairs, she offered me a coffee and handed Jimbo a glass of soda. She and I talked about the curriculum and what would be expected of me as a surrogate parent. A school bus would pick Jimbo up every morning at the end of our street outside The Union Jack and return him to the same spot after school. That was my first surprise. Few schools in England laid on transport for their pupils.
“It’s government policy,” she said. “It means we can build new schools outside the town. You might also like to hear that our pupils don’t wear school uniform.”
I looked at Jimbo for his reaction but, of course, he didn’t understand the conversation. When I translated for him, he kicked his legs and said, “Oh, that’s great.”
Madame Bruno smiled back at him. “We are tolerant of many things, but we do demand good manners and self-discipline. You will find you have more homework here than the children have in England.”
That would eat into my time, but Gwinny would help.
“Just one more thing,” she said handing me a list. “You will have to buy all this for James.”
I couldn’t read the list, of course.
“Madame, I’m dyslexic. I’ll have to ask my friend to help me with the list. Would you tell me what it’s for?”
“I’m sorry about that, madame. But your brother? He can read?”
“Yes, it’s just me. A stray gene, I guess.”
“It’s nothing to worry about. You need to buy all your brother’s stationery requirements for the coming term. You will find everything you need at the big supermarket in the Les Sables mall. Now let me take you round the school and show James his classroom.”
She led us to a room at the front of the building on the ground floor. As she opened the door she said, “James, your form teacher will be Madame Marin. She has a son of your age in her class.”
Marin? That rang a bell. It was the name of the oyster farm we were to visit the following day.
Jimbo had a look round his new classroom. He spent some time examining the displays on the boards around the walls to see whether he would fit in with what was being taught. Madame Bruno waited patiently for him to finish and led us out to the car park again where we shook hands and thanked her for her tour.
Felix joined us from a wander around the school grounds and I introduced him to Madame Bruno.
“That wasn’t so scary was it?” I asked Jimbo as we turned out onto the main road back to Beaucoup-sur-Mer.
“She was nice. I like her. I hope I like Madame Marin and she likes me. But I’m worried about not being able to speak proper French.”
“You’ll soon pick it up,” said Felix. “And I have a brilliant idea. We’ll all speak French at mealtimes at home.”
Jimbo pulled a face at me in the mirror. “I won’t know what’s going on.”
“Wait and see,” I said. “Don’t meet trouble halfway. Now, I suggest we go to Les Sables and start on this list. We can have a special lunch there as a treat.”
“What list?” asked Felix.
I handed him the list of stationery requirements and he whistled.
“I hate shopping. This is going to take forever.”
“You don’t have to come with us, if you don’t want to.”
Felix harrumphed. “Boss, I can’t let you go on your own. I’m here to take care of you. The semper tuens only works against bad magic not against human evil.”
I’d been under attack during the past few weeks from an evil witchdoctor who traveled through a magic wormhole all the way from the Middle Congo where his Wazini tribe lived. The High Council of the Guild of White Witches had given me special permission to learn a Level Four spell with which to protect myself, but it was wearing thin. The special aura had a few dents.
*
It had gone twelve when we reached the shopping mall and found a parking space.
“You choose where we have lunch,” I said to Jimbo.
“Pizza,” he said dragging me towards a pizza restaurant inside the entrance to the mall. “And ice cream,” he added.
We had a good lunch. Felix and I tried out easy phrases in French with Jimbo and he caught on quickly. It wouldn’t be long before he was speaking as well as Sam.
After lunch we tackled the long shopping list. Felix and I found it tedious, but Jimbo loved choosing the color of his exercise books and piling all the files, folders, pens and mathematical aids into the shopping cart.
“It makes me feel rich,” he said as the cart filled up. “It’s only for school, but there’s something magical about all that paper and stuff.”
On the way to the cashier I collected something easy for supper. I didn’t know about the rest of the family, but I was already missing Audrey’s cooking. I was a hopeless cook and Gwinny wasn’t much better.
As I parked the car outside our house and climbed out, a beautiful black collared dove, its pale grey and lilac feathers fluttering in the breeze, landed on the seawall level with the car.
It cooed at me and hopped up and down.
Felix laughed. “It’s trying to tell you something.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I answered. “You’re letting all this magical anthropomorphism go to your head.”
The bird took off from the wall and flew up straight towards me where it landed on my shoulder with much flapping of its wings.
“Mpenzi Munro,” it said in a high pitched voice, “I have a message for you from the High Council of the Guild of White Witches.”
“See,” said Felix laughing again. “I told you, boss.”
Jimbo tore himself away from unloading his treasures and came over to see what the fuss was about.
“Look,” he said. “It’s got a message tied to its leg.”
Jimbo was right. The bird had a little pouch attached to its leg and poking out of it was a piece of old parchment.
“Can you get it out for me, Jimbo?”
He eased the parchment out and handed it to me.
“Will you give me a boost please?” the dove asked in his high voice.
Felix scooped the dove up and tossed him up into the air. He flew away out over the bay before turning back towards the land.
“Let’s get inside and see what the message says,” said Felix turning to help Jimbo with his cargo.
Once we had Jimbo and his load of school stationery inside the house, Felix and I retired to the study to read the note. Well, for Felix to read it and for me to listen.
Mpenzi Munro, you are hereby summoned to appear before the High Council of the Guild of White Witches tonight at the witching hour. Please attend at the dolmen where you first called upon the High Council. Signed: Secretary to the Chief Witch.
Felix put the note away in the top drawer of my father’s desk.
“I wonder what that’s all about. Have you sent in a report like they asked you to, boss?”
I sighed. Sometimes all this magic stuff got a bit much for me. What time had there been to concentrate on sending in reports? We’d only wound up the case of the murder of Jonny Sauvage a few days ago. In addition, I hadn’t managed to get my speech to text program to work properly since we’d arrived in Beaucoup-sur-Mer. I’d been meaning to ask Felix to check it out for me but we hadn’t had time.
I guessed I was in for a reprimand. I couldn’t help feeling a little hard-done-by. I hadn’t chosen to be a witch and at times the duties involved were onerous.
“Right,” said Felix. “Another midnight excursion and the nights are getting colder. You’d better wrap up warmly. Let’s get the necessities together now and then we can relax for the rest of the day.”
I hurried off to the brocante to hunt for a diamond while Felix plucked yet another branch of leaves off our poor bay tree. I found a gem-studded box in the brocante and prized what looked like a diamond off the lid. I tested it on the window, but it didn’t cut the glass so I had to hunt about for another diamond. I had the passing thought that it was just as well the local thieves didn’t know what we had hidden away in the brocante, but then again neither did we, really. Were we ever going to have the chance to take an inventory?
Fortunately, I opened the box and there I found an engagement ring set with diamond chips. I scratched the window with it and it left marks. I only hoped that chips would be acceptable. Gwinny hadn’t told us whether there was a minimum carat requirement.
When I returned I found that Felix had already assembled the silver goblet, the bay leaves and a small bottle of cognac. I added the ring wrapped up in a tea towel and a box of matches. All set for midnight. What did the High Council want from me?
Chapter 3
We had to miss the last ten minutes of the movie we were watching. Even so, we’d left it a bit late to leave for the dolmen, and had to rush out to the car with our bag of magic ingredients and Zag. The summons of the High Council of the Guild of White Witches required the presence of a creature from the natural world. It was Zig’s turn to go with us but she found the witches scary. Fortunately, Zag liked to accompany us. It not only gave him a chance to get away from the house for some fun but also allowed him to act as my protector, a duty he took seriously.
I preferred to arrive at our meeting places with time to spare so I was prepared for the Chief Witch. Although she stood for all that’s good in the world, she could be brusque and had a tendency to see things in black and white; no gray. As we approached the dolmen down the narrow country lane, our headlights picked up a motley collection of vehicles parked at the foot of the wooded hill leading up to our dolmen, so I wouldn’t have been able to drive on even if I’d wanted to. Two battered vans blocked the road. Several other cars and vans stood poised at odd angles above the ditch, one had its headlights and radio on.
Zag gave a warning bark.
Felix turned to me. “Doesn’t look good, boss. Someone got here before us. What are we going to do? Ask them to leave?”
“Oh yes. Tell them we need the dolmen for a scheduled meeting with the High Council of the Guild of White Witches? I can see them taking notice of that.”
Zag woofed. “I’ll bite them all for you.”
I cast a stern look his way. “We’ll have none of that, Zag, but you could try scaring them off.”
“Right,” said Felix collecting up our ingredients and stepping out of the car. “We’ll approach as silently as we can. When we get to the top, we’ll size up the situation. If scare tactics are called for, Zag can rush in and bark his head off.”
“Can I snap?” Zag asked.
Felix shook his head.
“Can I nip at their ankles?” Zag asked again panting with excitement at the promise of the chase.
Felix chuckled. “Feel free, but don’t break the skin or they’ll have you seized as a dangerous dog.”
I locked the car. We began our stealthy climb up the hill. Halfway up, I glanced at my watch. Only ten minutes to go. I grabbed hold of Felix and whispered, “It’s ten to.”
We scrambled the rest of the way and crouched down in a clump of bushes beneath the ancient oaks that rimmed the clearing. Our meeting had clashed with a gang of unruly and drunken youngsters, about twenty in all. They sang and danced about having a great time, but they were in our way. We had to spoil their fun and get rid of them before the witching hour. I waved Zag into the fray.
He ran round the circle of merrymakers barking to attract their attention. When they looked his way, he bared his teeth and snarled as the clock ticked down towards midnight. Two of the louts climbed up onto the dolmen and began to pelt Zag with the collection of bottles and cans they’d amassed. Zag yelped as one of the missiles hit him on his hind leg. We weren’t going to make it in time, and this time the High Council had summoned me. They would be waiting. I was already in trouble with the Chief Witch for
not sending in my apprenticeship reports on time.
“Hold this stuff,” said Felix handing me the magic ingredients. “I’ll sort this.”
In a trice, he morphed into his leopard shape and with two bounds he leapt onto the top of the dolmen pushing the two would-be marksmen off onto the ground where they landed in a sprawling mess. It took a few moments for the rest of their gang to realize what was happening. They must have imagined they were having a bad trip when Felix threw back his head and roared. They jostled and shoved each other in their hurry to run away from the fearsome beast, a beast who now stalked up and down the top stone of the dolmen glaring at them with his wild green eyes as he flicked his claws in and out.
Before I had time to count to twenty, they’d yielded the field to us, leaving behind a disgusting mess of bottles, cans, torn chip packets and hamburger wrappings, which I hoped the Chief Witch wouldn’t notice.
We had no time to lose. While I placed the silver chalice of cognac, the bay leaves and the diamond on the dolmen, Felix rippled back into his man form. I passed him the matches. He lit the cognac and the blue flames rose into the air on the stroke of midnight. We held hands and did our clockwise walk three times around the dolmen, closing our eyes and bracing ourselves for the blinding flash when the diamond dematerialized. Zag yelped and hid under the dolmen with his paws over his eyes. Up above us the High Council shimmered into being, all seven witches seated around their council table.
“Not a moment too soon,” said the Chief Witch, glaring down at me. “I will not tolerate unpunctuality, Mpenzi Munro. Always remember: punctuality is the politeness of witches.”
That was stretching it a bit. I choked down the flip answer rising to my lips, put on a serious face and curtsied saying, “Understood, your Ladyship.”
I hoped Felix would let the rebuke go, but of course he didn’t. He chose to defend me. “Your Ladyship, with all due respect, Penzi couldn’t have foreseen—”
The Chief Witch rapped her wand on the table. “Young man, I’ve warned you before not to speak unless you’re spoken to. Mpenzi Munro is an apprentice. It is part of my job as her mentor to correct any failings she may have.”
