by Jill Murphy
‘I hope I’ve got First-Year Mentor,’ said Ethel. ‘They’re all so gullible and it would be brilliant scaring the wits out of them and sending them off on the wrong errands.’
‘That’s not very nice, Ethel,’ said Enid. ‘Anyway, they’ll want someone kind and helpful as their mentor, not a meanie like you, and H.B. knows what you’re like after you pinched Mildred’s project last term.’
‘That was just a silly misunderstanding,’ snapped Ethel. ‘She didn’t need to make such a stupid fuss about it – it was only a joke that got out of hand.’
‘No it wasn’t!’ exclaimed Mildred indignantly. ‘H.B. caught you fair and square, so you’ll have to watch what you’re doing from now on – just like the rest of us.’
‘Oh, keep your hair on,’ snapped Ethel. ‘You always get in such a state about everything.’
They had reached the passageway where the list of tasks was pinned up on a long noticeboard. There was already a large crowd of girls pushing and jostling and standing on tiptoe, trying to see if their names were on the list.
‘I really hope I haven’t been chosen for anything,’ said Mildred, keeping her fingers tightly crossed.
‘Don’t worry, Mil,’ said Maud, giving her friend’s hand a squeeze. ‘You’ll probably get Blackboard Monitor. Even a first-year could rub out the last lesson, ready for the next.’
Meanwhile, Miss Cackle was sitting in the staffroom having a cup of tea and a macaroon with Miss Hardbroom.
‘I do hope we’ve done the right thing, choosing Mildred for the East Wing Lantern Monitor,’ said Miss Cackle, dipping the macaroon into the tea, holding it there until it was just about to dissolve, then hastily popping it into her mouth. ‘It’s quite a big responsibility for such a scatterbrain and she’s always been a bit scared of the dark.’
‘Nonsense, Miss Cackle,’ said Miss Hardbroom. ‘It’s not as if she’s been given the entire school. She’ll just have three corridors of bedrooms, the spiral stairs, passages to the cloakrooms, the hallway inside the main door and the two large lanterns on the school gates. As long as she sets off at twilight and lights her way out to the gates, everything will be shining brightly to light her back in again.’
‘You make it sound so simple, Miss Hardbroom,’ said Miss Cackle, who had misjudged the macaroon-dipping and dropped a glutinous lump down her front. ‘Oh dear, what a mess I’ve made.’ She removed it with a handkerchief, inadvertently crushing it into her dress, and put what remained of it into her saucer. ‘I suppose you’re right, Miss Hardbroom. Which girls are doing the West Wing and all the upper floors?’
‘Ethel Hallow and Drusilla Paddock,’ said Miss Hardbroom. ‘So at least two-thirds of the school will be efficiently lit. Anyway, I’ve made sure they each have a bag full of safety equipment to take with them, so please don’t worry yourself, headmistress. All will be well.’
‘I sincerely hope so, Miss Hardbroom,’ sighed Miss Cackle. ‘Perhaps Mildred will be glad of the responsibility, now that she’s a senior pupil.’
CHAPTER FIVE
ildred was most definitely not glad to be given the responsibility of Lantern Monitor. The girls had been allowed to spend the rest of the day unpacking and arranging their rooms, and Maud and Enid had bundled in with Mildred to discuss their tasks.
‘It’s not fair,’ said Mildred, sitting huddled on her bed with Tabby and her two friends. ‘I bet H.B. did it on purpose.’
‘It’s not actually that bad,’ said Enid reassuringly. ‘You’ve only got the East Wing and the playground. If you set off just before it gets dark and light your way out, it’ll be nice and bright when you come back in again.’
‘Anyway,’ grumbled Mildred, ‘I’ll have to get up at dawn to go round and douse all the candles, so while you’re all slumbering in your warm beds, I’ll be freezing to death going round all those creepy corridors by myself – you’re so lucky, Maud, getting First-Year Mentor.’
‘Well, at least I’ve saved the little dears from Ethel’s clutches,’ laughed Maud. ‘She and Drusilla are Lantern Monitors for the rest of the school.’
‘What exactly is First-Year Mentor?’ asked Enid.
‘Just keeping an eye on the first-years,’ said Maud. ‘Making sure no one’s too homesick etc. They all look such babies, don’t they? Do you remember how we felt when we first arrived?’
‘Everything went wrong every five seconds,’ said Mildred.
‘Tell Enid about the dustbin incident, Mil,’ said Maud. ‘She wasn’t here when it happened – she didn’t come until the Summer Term.’
‘I think I’d rather not,’ said Mildred gloomily.
‘Oh, go on, Millie,’ encouraged Enid. ‘Please tell!’
‘Well,’ said Mildred, ‘we were having our very first flying lesson on the second day and I got a bit over-confident and crashed into the dustbins and broke my broom. It’s been the same ever since really, one disaster after another.’
‘Not all the time,’ said Maud in her usual cheery way. ‘You’ve done loads of good things, Millie – I’m not quite sure how exactly, but things often go wonderfully right in the end for you, even if it’s usually the long way round.’
‘Well, I’d like the short way round this time,’ said Mildred. ‘Did you get a task, Enid?’
‘Flower Monitor,’ said Enid. ‘You know, beautifying the classroom. It says that I have to use my initiative and find sprays of berried leaves and pine cones if there aren’t any actual flowers at this time of year.’
Just at that moment, the bats, who had been hanging upside down along the picture rail, snuffling and quivering in their sleep, began waking up and stretching their wings in the darkening room. Fortunately, Mildred’s task didn’t start until the following night, making this her last free evening until the next school holidays. There were now eight bats in Mildred’s room, forming a good-sized colony, and the girls watched fascinated as they headed for the newly glazed window, neatly nudging the bat flap open with their grey furry heads one by one, and disappearing into the twilight.
‘How amazing!’ said Mildred. ‘I really thought they wouldn’t like using the bat flap – you know how well they avoid bashing into things with their radar.’
‘It’s finally stopped raining,’ said Maud, peering out of the window. ‘The sky’s completely cleared and you can see the stars beginning to twinkle.’
‘Oh look, Maud!’ exclaimed Mildred. ‘There’s a shooting star – over there behind the gates – it sort of tumbled down the sky.’
‘Quick, Mildred!’ said Enid. ‘Make a wish – and don’t tell us what it is or it won’t come true.’
‘And be careful what you wish for!’ warned Maud.
Mildred closed her eyes and wished.
CHAPTER SIX
he teachers had gathered in the staffroom to deal with the problems that always needed ironing out on the first day back. It was also an opportune moment to have a calming cup of tea and a biscuit – or several biscuits in Miss Cackle’s case.
‘Everything seems to be running smoothly, Miss Cackle,’ said Miss Bat, dropping a handful of teabags into an enormous teapot. ‘Though I must say, Miss Drill, you were sorely missed helping with the first-years, especially in such dreadful weather.’
‘I quite missed them myself,’ said Miss Drill, re-pinning a fallen clump of her springy hair, ‘though I am looking forward to being class teacher to Form Four. Luckily, I’ll have Ethel Hallow to get things off to a good start.’
‘Unluckily, you’ll also have Mildred Hubble,’ said Miss Hardbroom drily. ‘So goodness knows what will be waiting round the corner.’
‘Look, everyone!’ said Miss Cackle, swiftly changing the subject. ‘The horrible weather’s completely changed – the sky is so clear now, you can even see the stars coming out.’
Miss Hardbroom craned her neck and peered out into the gathering gloom. ‘Did you see that?’ she said. ‘A shooting star just zipped across the sky, over there behind the gates.’
‘You must make a wish!’ exclaimed Miss Cackle. ‘Quickly, Miss Hardbroom, or it won’t come true.’
‘Oh really, Miss Cackle,’ said Miss Hardbroom grumpily. ‘Surely you don’t believe in all that silly nonsense?’
‘It is not silly nonsense,’ replied Miss Cackle indignantly. ‘Didn’t you ever make a birthday wish when you blew out the candles on your cake?’
‘We didn’t have birthday candles in our house,’ said Miss Hardbroom, sounding briefly wistful. ‘Or cakes, or cards, or anything frivolous and we only had one present – usually something useful, such as a new spell book; not like nowadays, when they have so many presents that they need a fork-lift truck to get them all home.’
The other teachers stared at Miss Hardbroom, imagining her as a child in a sensible black party dress, clutching her one present to her chest. It suddenly explained a great deal about her character.
‘Come along now, Miss Hardbroom,’ continued Miss Cackle brightly. ‘Make a wish anyway, just to prove it one way or another.’
‘Oh yes, Miss Hardbroom,’ giggled Miss Bat. ‘That would be such fun! Do make a wish.’
‘All right then,’ said Miss Hardbroom, feeling unexpectedly caught up in the spirit of fun and camaraderie between her fellow teachers. ‘If it means so much to all of you.’
‘You have to close your eyes,’ said Miss Cackle.
‘And don’t tell us what you’ve wished,’ said Miss Drill. ‘Or it won’t come true.’
Miss Hardbroom closed her eyes and wished. After a few seconds, she opened one eye and glanced at her fellow teachers. ‘What do I do next?’ she asked earnestly.
‘Nothing at all, Miss Hardbroom!’ said Miss Cackle, stifling a smile.
‘Oh,’ said Miss Hardbroom, feeling a little disappointed, as she had rather hoped for some sort of magic to accompany the wish.
‘Right then, ladies,’ she continued primly, her sense of fun departing as suddenly as it had arrived. ‘Enough silly nonsense. We have a very arduous term in front of us and only hard work and planning can keep us ahead of all the other schools if we want to win this competition.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
ext morning, Mildred was already awake when the rising bell clanged through the corridors. She had hardly had any sleep, mainly because the bats had been in and out of the bat flap all night. It made a clunking rattle each time one of them came in or went out, and as there were now eight of them, the flap was clunking and rattling the whole night long. To make matters worse, Tabby jumped out of his skin every time the bat flap crashed open and Mildred had to give him extra cuddles to calm him down. The bats had all finally come back in to roost along the picture rail, but it was too late for Mildred, who had only slept for about two hours altogether.
Maud put her head round the door, already in her uniform. ‘Up you get, Mil,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Oh dear, what’s up? You look awful.’
‘The bats have been driving me mad,’ said Mildred, yawning and stretching. ‘They were in and out like a fiddler’s elbow all night long. I know it’s nice to have glass in the windows, but I think I preferred it when there wasn’t any. I never heard a thing in the old days – and it disturbs Tabby.’
‘I haven’t got any bats at all in my room,’ said Maud, ‘so I was OK and I think Enid’s only got two. Never mind, Mil, you’ll soon get used to it. My auntie lives right next door to a railway line and the walls shake every time a train zooms past. When you first stay there it makes you jump every time it happens and you lie there waiting for the next one, but after a while you really don’t notice; it’s the same with chiming clocks – my auntie’s got one of those too! Where’s Einstein, by the way? Did you bring him with you?’
Einstein was the tortoise that Mildred had used for her animal transformation spell the term before and Miss Cackle had allowed her to keep him.
‘He’s gone into early hibernation,’ said Mildred. ‘He’s under the bed in the cat basket, tucked up in a blanket.’
She clambered out of bed and rooted around in her wardrobe for a shirt and her gymslip.
‘I do like the bats, Maudie,’ she yawned, ‘and it is less absolutely freezing with the new glass, but I sometimes wish the school was more normal.’
‘I know just what you mean,’ agreed Maud. ‘Any other school would be thrilled because they were getting some vital new piece of equipment, but we’re all delirious with joy because they’ve finally put glass in the windows. It’s like the Middle Ages at Miss Cackle’s.’
‘Don’t you sometimes sneakily wish we’d been sent to Pentangle’s?’ asked Mildred thoughtfully. ‘They’ve got lovely purple uniforms and the head girl gets to choose any type of cat she wants. The head girl at the moment’s got a beautiful cream and brown Ragdoll cat – not that I’d want to change Tabby!’ she added hastily. ‘Anyway, there wouldn’t be much chance of my being the head girl of any school so it’s not worth worrying about.’
‘Cackle’s is all right really,’ said Maud, trying to think the best, as usual. ‘It may not be very modern, but it gets there in the end and, anyway, we wouldn’t have met each other if we weren’t both here! Come on, grab your tie, and here’s your sash round the bedpost, and let’s go and see if Enid’s ready.’
Mildred smiled sleepily and felt a peaceful glow of happiness that someone as nice as Maud had chosen to be her friend.
CHAPTER EIGHT
iss Drill was deeply delighted with her new position as form teacher. She was waiting for Form Four on the platform at the front of the classroom half an hour early, wearing a dark green suit with a lilac shirt and a purple tie with yellow stars emblazoned all over it. She was so excited about being in proper clothes, instead of her customary shorts, Aertex shirt and black fleece if it was chilly, that her sense of taste had rather deserted her. Trying to fit in as many colours as possible, without deviating too far from the traditional dark colours, had proved tricky. However, Miss Drill had gazed at herself approvingly in her long mirror that morning and felt confident and fashionable. ‘Yes,’ she thought to herself, ‘I look quite … trendy. I think the girls will be most impressed.’
The girls were impressed when they filed into their new classroom after breakfast, but not quite in the way that Miss Drill had hoped for.
‘Settle down now, girls,’ said Miss Drill. ‘I don’t know what is causing all this giggling and silliness.’
Enid and Maud were staring desperately at the floor, neither of them daring to look at Mildred, whose shoulders were beginning to shake as she tried to focus on anything but Miss Drill’s almost fluorescent tie. They all managed to pull themselves together after arranging their books and writing equipment in their desks and they were soon all sitting up straight, politely awaiting their instructions for the day.
‘Good morning, girls,’ said Miss Drill, an excited catch in her voice as she spoke.
‘Good morning, Miss Drill,’ chorused the girls in that sing-song way used by schools everywhere.
‘First of all,’ announced Miss Drill, ‘I promised Miss Hardbroom that I would give out the essential equipment to all three of our Lantern Monitors. Come up here, Ethel, Drusilla and Mildred.’
Miss Drill handed each of them a surprisingly large canvas holdall, which contained a fire blanket, a fire extinguisher, several boxes of candles, a box of tapers, a box of matches, a large lantern with a clip on the side for a taper and a special handle (a bit like one of those holders for coffee glasses), so that the monitor could easily dip in a taper to light all the lanterns, and a snuffer for dousing the candles in the morning.
‘Miss Hardbroom asked me to make it clear to the Lantern Monitors that she will be expecting them to commence their duties at twilight this evening,’ said Miss Drill. ‘Make sure you leave yourselves plenty of time, and you should take your brooms with you, as some of the lanterns – and candelabras – are quite high and you will need to fly up to light them. You may also keep your broomsticks in your rooms, as you will need them to hand. Oh, and yo
u don’t have to take the cats on lantern duty.’
‘Yes, Miss Drill,’ said Mildred, trying hard to remember the instructions as she lugged the holdall back to her desk and put it under her seat.
‘Thank you, Miss Drill,’ said Ethel and Drusilla together, though Ethel didn’t look too happy.
‘Now then,’ continued Miss Drill. ‘I expect you are all longing to know the details about the swimming-pool competition. It hasn’t been decided yet which class or who in particular will be representing the school, but this competition is quite unusual as it is more of a talent competition than the usual formal display.’
The girls all perked up at this piece of news.
‘I thought that would catch your interest,’ said Miss Drill with a beaming smile. ‘There will be one act representing each school and the judges are to be the Supreme Magician, the Grand High Witch and the Chief Wizard. The judges have stated that they want to be thoroughly entertained! The act can be anything at all, but the person or persons must have star quality – something that puts them above everyone else.’
‘Excuse me, Miss Drill,’ said Ethel, putting up her hand. ‘Could we have a chanting choir?’
‘Or a dance troupe!’ exclaimed Enid.
‘I’m not sure if Miss Hardbroom would approve of a dance troupe, Enid,’ said Miss Drill, ‘especially if it was one of those modern ones, with everyone leaping about in an abandoned fashion wearing leotards – and, of course, it has to be something to reflect our position as a witches’ academy. A chanting choir sounds very suitable, Ethel. We’ll have to put our thinking caps on, but before we do you can all run down to the broom sheds, fetch your broomsticks and fly three times round the school to wake yourselves up! I’ll come down with you and time everyone with my stopwatch.’
