by Em Lynas
My mood lightens as I see my breakfast is already on the table. I have ordered one sticky, dribbly cherry pie of deliciousness because pie for breakfast is the BEST way to start the day.
Unfortunately, there is another mini statue by my plate. This darkens my mood. I sigh. I am on a rollercoaster of emotional moods and this does not bode well for a stress-free day. My mood darkens even further when Arwen speaks.
She’s obviously been desperate for me to arrive so she can annoy me about the statue. “I see you have created another Twinkle Toadspit likeness,” she says, as I sit down. “It really is sad, having to be your own fan.”
I do not respond. Instead, I cut into my pie and focus on the steam that steams from the bubbly red fruit inside. It’s too hot to eat. A piece of pastry falls off, I pick it up and blow on it. I do not wish to answer Arwen immediately because Arwen is doing her best to goad me into trouble and I am doing my best not to be goaded into trouble because, as previously stated, I am currently a Pupil of Perfection and cannot be goaded into anything. Especially when Ms Thorn is watching. Which she is.
I nibble the piece of pastry; the edge is cherry flavoured deliciousness. It calms me. I sigh with contentment. I am under control and have an answer.
“Arwen, oh, fairest Arwen. I wish you were correct. I wish my magical creativity was powerful enough to create such tiny works of art but I’m afraid it isn’t. I know it’s difficult but you will just have to accept that I have an ac-chew-al fan.”
“A secret admirer,” says Jess. She takes the statue and undoes the button on her pocket of usefulness. It sucks in the statue.
“A very talented secret admirer,” says Shalini.
Dominique watches the statue disappear, pretending not to. Arwen shrugs. “So you say,” she says, which is one of those things that people say that can be very annoying. Like Of course it is and I believe you and I said you were right when they mean the complete opposite and they are just trying to wind you up. She does not need to wind me up. I am already wound up.
She concentrates on eating her toast. I pretend to concentrate on my still-cooling pie but, secretly, I am checking my thumb. There is no change.
I also secretly study Ms Thorn. She’s currently behaving like a human statue, one that can only move its head. I suspect she is inspecting the room for conformity and compliance. Ms Lobelia has joined the teachers. She’s laughing. The others are laughing. Ms Thorn is not. There is no hint of smile even though Ms Lobelia is the expert at making people smile.
My pie has cooled so I take a big bite. It is DELICIOUS! Perhaps Ms Thorn needs to eat more pie because cherry pie equals happiness. Perhaps I should offer her some? I don’t. I take another bite and continue to secretly study.
Ms Thorn hardly reacts when Ms Sage arrives, just a brief nod of acknowledgement. I suspect Ms Sage does not make Ms Thorn happy either.
“Does anyone else think Ms Sage is looking a bit frazzled round the edges?” says Jess. She’s finished her blueberry yoghurt and she’s wiping the bowl with her last piece of toast to make sure she gets every drop.
Dominique tsks. Tsk. As if this is not acceptable behaviour.
Ms Sage’s hat is definitely frazzled. The golden velvet looks rough, as if someone has rubbed it up the wrong way, and the swirls of fabric and ribbon are floppy. There’s even a strand of golden lace dangling loose at the back and she looks as if she’s slept in her dress. The velvet is crumpled and the yellow is dull. Even the silver stars are refusing to twinkle.
Shalini nods in agreement with Jess. “I’m not sure being the new headmistress of Toadspit Towers is as easy as she thought it would be,” she says.
“Ms Sage was a perfectly good deputy headmistress,” says Dominique. “It was a disaster for the school when you arrived,” she is looking directly at me, “and deceased Ms Ursula Toadspit forcing Ms Sage to take over. You are to blame for Ms Sage’s difficulties.”
She is so unfair! Ms Sage did not need forcing. Ms Sage was desperate to be headmistress.
“Dominique,” I say, in a voice of calm firmness, “I would like to remind you that it was not my fault that I was dumped at Toadspit Towers.”
“That was Granny Wart’s fault,” says Jess.
“And it was not my fault that my Greats-Grandma Ursula Toadspit’s ghostly headmistress doll was waiting for a Toadspit to arrive and take over. Waiting for a Toadspit to break the Toadspit curse so she could die properly.”
“That was Greats-Grandma Marietta Toadspit’s fault,” says Jess.
I glance up at my Greats-Grandma Ursula’s doll at the top of the doll display. It hasn’t moved since Ms Thorn placed it there. It has not whizzed into a Toadspit Tornado of greenness, making sure the rules are kept and nothing is changed. It is a dead doll. The same as all the others.
Jess says, “None of it was Twink’s fault because she didn’t know she was a Toadspit. She didn’t know she was breaking the curse because she thought she was a Wart, like her granny. So you can’t blame her for any unexpected consequences.”
Arwen almost falls off her chair laughing. “She thought she was a Wart! You were a wart! Now you’re…” She’s struggling to find another insult.
I help. “A witch of mega power who will own the school one day?”
She laughs even more. “Mega power? You only have sixteen ticks!” she says. “Dominique earned a hundred and fifty last week so she’s the witch of mega power, not you.”
Dominique smirks a tiny smirk as if she’s too important to bother with a big smirk. She’s at the top of the red-hats board and her picture is back in the Best and Brightest golden frame. She will do anything to prove she is the B&B of all time.
I do not answer Arwen. She is not winding me up. I am in control of my emotions. I act not bothered. I stare at what’s left of my pie. A few sticky lumps of cherry and crusts of pastry. I think of pie and nothing but pie. I eat but the deliciousness isn’t quite as delicious as it was.
Arwen will not stop goading me.
“You released the evil Jacobus charm from the secret tower room, Wrinkle,” she says. “You endangered the school.” She is ac-chew-ally stabbing her finger towards me.
Dominique joins in. “Arwen is correct. Your reckless behaviour endangers the school. You should not be allowed to investigate any more secret rooms. You should leave that to the true Best and Brightest of Toadspit Towers.” She looks meaningfully at her picture in the Best and Brightest golden frame then back at me. “You should be supervised at all times because you are still ignorant.”
Aargh! She’s used the I word! This is definitely becoming a potentially stressful situation! I act deaf as Arwen and Dominique continue to list my failures. Jess and Shalini defend me as I attempt to block them out by concentrating on something else. I can’t concentrate on pie because there is no pie left so I undo my pocket of usefulness button, stick my hand in and say, “Fetch Shakespeare.” The Complete History of William Shakespeare, with pictures, is immediately in my hand. I pull it out and it grows to the right size. It falls open on the table at A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
I try to rehearse the words but Arwen’s voice is the sort of voice that pierces a person’s mind like a stabbing pin so I stare at the pictures instead.
Oberon, the fairy king, is squeezing the juice from a little purple pansy flower on to Titania’s sleeping eyelids. It will make the fairy queen love the first person she sees when she wakes. I have an idea of genius! I should give Arwen a love potion! Or maybe just a like potion. That would shut her up.
Ms Sage interrupts my thoughts. She’s on the stage. Horatio flies off her charm bracelet and on to her shoulder. He hoots for silence. The girls shush but I can still hear the scraping of cutlery on china as they finish their meals.
“Good morning, girls,” says Ms Sage.
The girls answer, “Good morning, Ms Sage.” I do too.
“I’m afraid I have to tell you that Ms Rowanstall has reported on the ongoing Crumbling Building Situation a
nd it is not good news. The unfortunate removal of Ms Ursula Toadspit’s angelica protection from the walls of Toadspit Towers and the sudden replacement of the angelica protection back into the walls has caused the building to become dangerously unstable and it could fall down at any moment.”
We all look up as if this is that moment. It isn’t.
“Ms Rowanstall and the maintenance team have been working overtime to solve the problem but this is a rather large school and therefore rather a large problem.”
“That is definitely your fault,” hiss-whispers Arwen. “You broke the Gellica Charm of Protection.”
This is tech-nic-ally true but I also put it back together again and she’s not mentioning that.
“You must all do your part to assist the maintenance team. You must not touch the walls, lean on the walls, draw on the walls or even look at the walls. And definitely No Ball Games. Failure to obey this instruction could be catastrophic. If a pupil is injured, crushed or squashed the school may have to CLOSE! Therefore all lessons are cancelled and everyone will be trained in maintenance techniques. If we all work together we may just be able to save Toadspit Towers from TOTAL DESTRUCTION!”
She puts her hand on her heart and steps back. Ms Thorn takes the stage. She unrolls a list. She focuses her steely gaze on me. “Twinkle Toadspit, you and your table will report to me as soon as Ms Sage has dismissed the pupils.”
I immediately stand to demonstrate compliance and say, “Yes, Ms Thorn. Of course, Ms Thorn,” although I really want to say, What about the seats? Why just the table? But I suspect Ms Thorn will consider that insubordination or cheek so I desist and sit back down.
Ms Thorn reads to the bottom of the list, matching up the other girls with their teachers and tasks. As soon as she’s finished, Dominique and Arwen leap to their feet as if it’s essential that they get to Ms Thorn first, to prove they are better and keener witches than we are.
I consider hurrying so that I arrive before them but I don’t. I close my book, touch it to my pocket and it shrinks in. Then I stand. I do The Walk of Sensibleness. This involves acting. Jess and Shalini copy.
Ms Thorn is waiting. She’s leaning forward. Resting on her cane. She glances at my thumb. I hope Ms Lobelia has not told her about the tree! Why didn’t I swear Ms Lobelia to secrecy? Although, maybe it’s a good thing if she knows. Maybe we can bond over our witchwood bits. Laugh about our witchwood’s quirks? I am hopeful.
Ms Thorn continues to look at me. She’s inspecting me. Assessing me. Judging me. I smile. She does not. Dominique steps between us.
“What would you like I to do, Ms Thorn?” she says.
Ms Thorn replies. “Follow me.” She walks away. Thunk, tap, thunk, tap, thunk, tap goes her witchwood cane and her witchwood leg on the flagstones.
We follow. Dominique and Arwen first. Then Shalini, me and Jess.
Shalini’s muttering under her breath. “But what about the toilets? We haven’t finished the toilets. We should really finish the toilets.”
We leave by the door on the right of the stage and follow Ms Thorn through unknown corridors that soon become even shabbier and dustier than the corridors we normally walk through. After a while I glance behind. We are leaving footprints. The portraits on the walls are dull, the witches’ faces dark and murky with a thick layer of dust.
Ms Thorn doesn’t talk as she leads us lefts and rights, along dark corridors and down a creaky wooden staircase. The dark becomes darker at the bottom. We brighten our hat-lights.
I don’t talk either because, as previously mentioned, I am currently the Pupil of Perfection. A Queen of Compliance and Obedience.
Jess is not.
“Where are we?” she says. “Where are we going?” she says. “Where are we?” she says again.
Ms Thorn does not answer. This does not stop Jess.
“What are we looking for? Are we in the East Wing? What’s in the East Wing? Can we even get in the East Wing?”
I do not answer either. Not just because I do not know the answer, but because I suspect Ms Thorn requires silence and Ms Thorn must be kept happy. Ms Thorn must be obeyed. Ms Thorn must be – on my side.
The corridor opens out into a room, like an entrance hall. There are no windows or doors, just a stone archway straight ahead carved with roses and leaves. It’s totally blocked by chunks of granite spilling out like a frozen waterfall of rock.
This bit of the school has ac-chew-ally fallen down already! It does not fill me full of hope for the rest of the school. There are no paintings on the walls here. The floor is not just dusty, it’s full of stones and grit and there’s a complete absence of light apart from our hat-lights. They’re casting shadows of gloom on our faces. I name Dominique Doominique La’Spooky and Arwen Arwen De’Ghoul.
“This,” says Ms Thorn, pointing at the blockage then me, “is your new task.”
Shalini’s toilet frustration gushes over. “But what about the toilets, Ms Thorn? We have to do the toilets all in one day or the hex will spread.”
“Another group will be assigned that task, Shalini.”
This does not seem to please Shalini but I act just the right amount of enthusiasm and say, with a smile of positivity, “Jolly good. Let’s get started,” because the clock is ticking towards the rehearsal this afternoon and that’s a BIG BLOCKAGE and I am running out of time to make Ms Thorn smile.
Ms Thorn directs her words at me again. “I shall train you in the necessary techniques to repair the granite and you will assist me in unblocking the entrance.”
Entrance to what? I’m thinking.
“Entrance to what?” says Jess, like a mind reader.
“To the East Wing,” says Ms Thorn.
“I knew it,” says Jess.
“The East Wing?” says Shalini. “But hasn’t that been—”
“Magically locked for hundreds of years,” says Jess.
“You are correct, Jessica,” says Ms Thorn. “Ms Toadspit placed a charm on the East Wing, preventing access to all. However, now that Twinkle’s arrival has caused all of Ms Toadspit’s protective charms to become unstable it is possible the East Wing’s protections have broken too and this could be disastrous for the school. Those protections must be assessed. I have taken on that task. Once the corridor has been repaired I shall enter the wing and conduct a survey. Twinkle shall accompany me as it is possible she may be useful in repairing her ancestor’s protections.”
She doesn’t sound like she believes the last bit. Plus she’s talking about me as if I am not here. As if I’m just a tool in her toolkit. Which is annoying but I refuse to be annoyed so I act smiling a Smile of Sincerity and say, “I am happy to be of service, Ms Thorn, and I shall obey your every command. The school shall be saved!” I increase the size of the smile and attempt to add a twinkle to my eyes. Surely this will get me one back!
It does not. She doesn’t even give me a look from The Book of Thanks For The Obedience so I follow my comment with, “What wouldst thou have me do before the morning is over, Ms Thorn?” to show willingness and to remind her I am a Shakespearean actress with a rehearsal to attend in the afternoon.
“You must follow my instructions,” she says. “To the letter. Exactly. Precisely. No creativity. No inventiveness. No original ideas are required. Just compliance.” She taps her cane on the floor with each instruction. Fangus has his beady little eyes on me. Maybe I should train him to smile too.
“I shall comply with thee, Ms Thorn,” I say. “I implore thee to instruct me in the instructions that must be obeyed and I shall obey them.”
Dominique tsks. Tsk. Arwen rolls her eyes.
Ms Thorn does not react but then I spot a tiny twitch. It is a twitch of annoyance in her eyebrow. The twitch is in the wrong place! It should be a twitch of amusement on the lips. I have a bad thought. Maybe she is allergic to smiling. Or maybe she’s just allergic to my smiles. Maybe I should keep a list of other things that make her happy. Things that work and things that don’t work. Th
ings that have not worked so far: enthusiasm, willingness, humour, friendliness. Things that have worked so far: nothing.
“Step one,” says Ms Thorn. “You must remove all of the loose granite. Care must be taken not to dislodge a supporting block that could potentially cause a further slide. I do not wish to bring the ceiling down.”
She looks at me as she says that. I think she has trust issues.
“Dominique, you shall be responsible for removing the loose granite.”
Dominique is thrilled to have been singled out for a special job that involves the word responsible.
“You may demonstrate this skill,” says Ms Thorn.
She steps back. Dominique steps forward. She aims her spoon, stares at the blockage, crosses her eyes and a few seconds later a lump of granite falls away. It bounces towards me. I dodge it. She uncrosses her eyes and aims a superior smirk in my direction.
“Excellent work,” says Ms Thorn. There is a twitch of the lip! A hint of a smile.
So it is possible! Maybe Jess is right. I must Be More Dominique. This is Plan Z.
“I shall award you one tick,” says the teacher. She draws the tick in the air with her pointy red fingernail. The tick appears like a tick-shaped sparkler in the darkness then fizzles out.
Dominique does her look from The Book of Superior Looks and Arwen copies. Ms Thorn continues with the task.
“Step two: You will each create new blocks by joining the broken pieces.”
“Like a jigsaw,” I say. I act an intelligent look. Head on the side, nodding slightly. Dominique rolls more granite chunks my way.
“That is incorrect,” says Ms Thorn. “We are not reconnecting previously broken pieces. We are bringing together pieces at random. Magically.”
“With magic glue,” I say, with another nod of intelligence.
