The Witches

  My grandmother advanced upon them and thrust Bruno into Mr Jenkins's hand. 'Here's your little boy,' she said. 'He needs to go on a diet.'

  'Hi, Dad!' Bruno said. 'Hi, Mum!'

  Mrs Jenkins screamed even louder. My grandmother, with me in her hand, turned and marched out of the room. She went straight across the hotel lobby and out through the front entrance into the open air.

  Outside it was a lovely warm evening and I could hear the waves breaking on the beach just across the road from the hotel.

  'Is there a taxi here?' my grandmother said to the tall doorman in his green uniform.

  'Certainly, madam,' he said, and he put two fingers into his mouth and blew a long shrill whistle. I watched him with envy. For weeks I had been trying to whistle like that but I hadn't succeeded once. Now I never would.

  The taxi came. The driver was an oldish man with a thick black drooping moustache. The moustache hung over his mouth like the roots of some plant. 'Where to, madam?' he asked. Suddenly, he caught sight of me, a little mouse, nestling in my grandmother's hand. 'Blimey!' he said. 'What's that?'

  'It's my grandson,' my grandmother said. 'Drive us to the station, please.'

  'I always liked mice,' the old taxi-driver said. 'I used to keep 'undreds of 'em when I was a boy. Mice is the fastest breeders in the world, did you know that, ma'am? So if 'ee's your grandson, then I reckon you'll be having a few great-grandsons to go with 'im in a couple of weeks' time!'

  'Drive us to the station, please,' my grandmother said, looking prim.

  'Yes, ma'am,' he said. 'Right away.'

  My grandmother got into the back of the taxi and sat down and put me on her lap.

  'Are we going home?' I asked her.

  'Yes,' she answered. 'Back to Norway.'

  'Hooray!' I cried. 'Oh, hooray, hooray, hooray!'

  'I though you'd like that,' she said.

  'But what about our luggage?'

  'Who cares about luggage?' she said.

  The taxi was driving through the streets of Bournemouth and this was the time of day when the pavements were crowded with holiday-makers all wandering about aimlessly with nothing to do.

  'How are you feeling, my darling?' my grandmother said.

  'Fine,' I said. 'Quite marvellous.'

  She began stroking the fur on the back of my neck with one finger. 'We have accomplished great feats today,' she said.

  'It's been terrific,' I said. 'Absolutely terrific.'

  The Heart of a Mouse

  It was lovely to be back in Norway once again in my grandmother's fine old house. But now that I was so small, everything looked different and it took me quite a while to find my way around. Mine was a world of carpets and table-legs and chair-legs and the little crannies behind large pieces of furniture. A closed door could not be opened and nothing could be reached that was on a table.

  But after a few days, my grandmother began to invent gadgets for me in order to make life a bit easier. She got a carpenter to put together a number of slim tall stepladders and she placed one of these against each table in the house so that I could climb up whenever I wanted to. She herself invented a wonderful door-opening device made out of wires and springs and pulleys, with heavy weights dangling on cords, and soon every door in the house had a door-opener on it. All I had to do was to press my front paws on to a tiny wooden platform and hey presto, a spring would stretch and a weight would drop and the door would swing open.

  Next, she rigged up an equally ingenious system whereby I could switch on the light whenever I entered a room at night. I cannot explain how it worked because I know nothing about electricity, but there was a little button let into the floor near the door in every room in the house, and when I pressed the button gently with one paw, the light would come on. When I pressed it a second time, the light would go off again.

  My grandmother made me a tiny toothbrush, using a matchstick for the handle, and into this she stuck little bits of bristle that she had snipped off one of her hair-brushes. 'You must not get any holes in your teeth,' she said. 'I can't take a mouse to a dentist! He'd think I was crazy!'

  'It's funny,' I said, 'but ever since I became a mouse I've hated the taste of sweets and chocolate. So I don't think I'll get any holes.'

  'You are still going to brush your teeth after every meal,' my grandmother said. And I did.

  For a bath-tub she gave me a silver sugar-basin, and I bathed in it every night before going to bed. She allowed no one else into the house, not even a servant or a cook. We kept entirely to ourselves and we were very happy in each other's company.

  One evening, as I lay on my grandmother's lap in front of the fire, she said to me, 'I wonder what happened to that little Bruno.'

  'I wouldn't be surprised if his father gave him to the hall-porter to drown in the fire-bucket,' I answered.

  'I'm afraid you may be right,' my grandmother said. 'The poor little thing.'

  We were silent for a few minutes, my grandmother puffing away at her black cigar while I dozed comfortably in the warmth.

  'Can I ask you something, Grandmamma?' I said.

  'Ask me anything you like, my darling.'

  'How long does a mouse live?'

  'Ah,' she said. 'I've been waiting for you to ask me that.'

  There was a silence. She sat there smoking away and gazing at the fire.

  'Well,' I said. 'How long do we live, us mice?'

  'I have been reading about mice,' she said. 'I have been trying to find out everything I can about them.'

  'Go on then, Grandmamma. Why don't you tell me?'

  'If you really want to know,' she said, 'I'm afraid a mouse doesn't live for a very long time.'

  'How long?' I asked.

  'Well, an ordinary mouse only lives for about three years,' she said. 'But you are not an ordinary mouse. You are a mouse-person, and that is a very different matter.'

  'How different?' I asked. 'How long does a mouse-person live, Grandmamma?'

  'Longer,' she said. 'Much longer.'

  'A mouse-person will almost certainly live for three times as long as an ordinary mouse,' my grandmother said. 'About nine years.'

  'Good!' I cried. 'That's great! It's the best news I've ever had!'

  'Why do you say that?' she asked, surprised.

  'Because I would never want to live longer than you,' I said. 'I couldn't stand being looked after by anybody else.'

  There was a short silence. She had a way of fondling me behind the ears with the tip of one finger. It felt lovely.

  'How old are you, Grandmamma?' I asked.

  'I'm eighty-six,' she said.

  'Will you live another eight or nine years?'

  'I might,' she said. 'With a bit of luck.'

  'You've got to,' I said. 'Because by then I'll be a very old mouse and you'll be a very old grandmother and soon after that we'll both die together.'

  'That would be perfect,' she said.

  I had a little doze after that. I just shut my eyes and thought of nothing and felt at peace with the world.

  'Would you like me to tell you something about yourself that is very interesting?' my grandmother said.

  'Yes please, Grandmamma,' I said, without opening my eyes.

  'I couldn't believe it at first, but apparently it's quite true,' she said.

  'What is it?' I asked.

  'The heart of a mouse,' she said, 'and that means your heart, is beating at the rate of five hundred times a minute! Isn't that amazing?'

  'That's not possible,' I said, opening my eyes wide.

  'It's as true as I'm sitting here,' she said. 'It's a sort of a miracle.'

  'That's nearly nine beats every second!' I cried, working it out in my head.

  'Correct,' she said. 'Your heart is going so fast it's impossible to hear the separate beats. All one hears is a soft humming sound.'

  She was wearing a lace dress and the lace kept tickling my nose. I had to rest my head on my front paws.

  'Have you ever hear
d my heart humming away, Grandmamma?' I asked her.

  'Often,' she said. 'I hear it when you are lying very close to me on the pillow at night.'

  The two of us remained silent in front of the fire for a long time after that, thinking about these wonderful things.

  'My darling,' she said at last, 'are you sure you don't mind being a mouse for the rest of your life?'

  'I don't mind at all,' I said. 'It doesn't matter who you are or what you look like so long as somebody loves you.'

  It's Off to Work We Go!

  For supper that evening my grandmother had a plain omelette and one slice of bread. I had a piece of that brown Norwegian goats'-milk cheese known as gjetost which I had loved even when I was a boy. We ate in front of the fire, my grandmother in her armchair and me on the table with my cheese on a small plate.

  'Grandmamma,' I said, 'now that we have done away with The Grand High Witch, will all the other witches in the world gradually disappear?'

  'I'm quite sure they won't,' she answered.

  I stopped chewing and stared at her. 'But they must!' I cried. 'Surely they must!'

  'I'm afraid not,' she said.

  'But if she's not there any longer how are they going to get all the money they need? And who is going to give them orders and jazz them up at the Annual Meetings and invent all their magic formulas for them?'

  'When a queen bee dies, there is always another queen in the hive ready to take her place,' my grandmother said. 'It's the same with witches. In the great headquarters where The Grand High Witch lives, there is always another Grand High Witch waiting in the wings to take over should anything happen.'

  'Oh no!' I cried. 'That means everything we did was for nothing! Have I become a mouse for nothing at all?'

  'We saved the children of England,' she said. 'I don't call that nothing.'

  'I know, I know!' I cried. 'But that's not nearly good enough! I felt sure that all the witches of the world would slowly fade away after we had got rid of their leader! Now you tell me that everything is going to go on just the same as before!'

  'Not exactly as before,' my grandmother said. 'For instance, there are no longer any witches in England. That's quite a triumph, isn't it?'

  'But what about the rest of the world?' I cried. 'What about America and France and Holland and Germany? And what about Norway?'

  'You must not think I have been sitting back and doing nothing these last few days,' she said. 'I have been giving a great deal of thought and time to that particular problem.'

  I was looking up at her face when she said this, and all at once I noticed that a little secret smile was beginning to spread slowly around her eyes and the corners of her mouth. 'Why are you smiling, Grandmamma?' I asked her.

  'I have some rather interesting news for you,' she said.

  'What news?'

  'Shall I tell it to you right from the beginning?'

  'Yes please,' I said. 'I like good news.'

  She had finished her omelette, and I had had enough of my cheese. She wiped her lips with a napkin and said, 'As soon as we arrived back in Norway, I picked up the telephone and made a call to England.'

  'Who in England, Grandmamma?'

  'To the Chief of Police in Bournemouth, my darling. I told him I was the Chief of Police for the whole of Norway and that I was interested in the peculiar happenings that had taken place recently in the Hotel Magnificent.'

  'Now hang on a sec, Grandmamma,' I said. 'There's no way an English policeman is going to believe that you are the Head of the Norwegian Police.'

  'I am very good at imitating a man's voice,' she said. 'Of course he believed me. The policeman in Bournemouth was honoured to get a call from the Chief of Police for the whole of Norway.'

  'So what did you ask him?'

  'I asked him for the name and address of the lady who had been living in Room 454 in the Hotel Magnificent, the one who disappeared.'

  'You mean The Grand High Witch!' I cried.

  'Yes, my darling.'

  'And did he give it to you?'

  'Naturally he gave it to me. One policeman will always help another policeman.'

  'By golly, you've got a nerve, Grandmamma!'

  'I wanted her address,' my grandmother said.

  'But did he know her address?'

  'He did indeed. They had found her passport in her room and her address was in it. It was also in the hotel register. Everyone who stays in a hotel has to put a name and address in the book.'

  'But surely The Grand High Witch wouldn't have put her real name and address in the hotel register?' I said.

  'Why ever not?' my grandmother said. 'Nobody in the world had the faintest idea who she was except the other witches. Wherever she went, people simply knew her as a nice lady. You, my darling, and you alone, were the only non-witch ever to see her with her mask off. Even in her home district, in the village where she lived, people knew her as a kindly and very wealthy Baroness who gave large sums of money to charity. I have checked up on that.'

  I was getting excited now. 'And that address you got, Grandmamma, that must have been the secret headquarters of The Grand High Witch.'

  'It still is,' my grandmother said. 'And that will be where the new Grand High Witch is certain to be living at this very moment with her retinue of special Assistant Witches. Important rulers are always surrounded by a large retinue of assistants.'

  'Where is her headquarters, Grandmamma?' I cried. 'Tell me quick where it is!'

  'It is a Castle,' my grandmother said. 'And the fascinating thing is that in that Castle will be all the names and addresses of all the witchess in the world! How else could a Grand High Witch run her business? How else could she summon the witches of the various countries to their Annual Meetings?'

  'Where is the Castle, Grandmamma?' I cried impatiently. 'Which country? Tell me quick!'

  'Guess,' she said.

  'Norway!' I cried.

  'Right first time!' she answered. 'High up in the mountains above a small village.'

  This was thrilling news. I did a little dance of excitement on the table-top. My grandmother was getting pretty worked up herself and now she heaved herself out of her chair and began pacing up and down the room, thumping the carpet with her stick.

  'So we have work to do, you and I!' she cried out. 'We have a great task ahead of us! Thank heavens you are a mouse! A mouse can go anywhere! All I'll have to do is put you down somewhere near The Grand High Witch's Castle and you will very easily be able to get inside it and creep around looking and listening to your heart's content!'

  'I will! I will!' I answered. 'No one will ever see me! Moving about in a big Castle will be child's play compared with going into a crowded kitchen full of cooks and waiters!'

  'You could spend days in there if necessary!' my grandmother cried. In her excitement she was waving her stick all over the place, and suddenly she knocked over a tall and very beautiful vase that went crashing on to the floor and smashed into a million pieces. 'Forget it,' she said. 'It's only Ming. You could spend weeks in that Castle if you wanted to and they'd never know you were there! I myself would get a room in the village and you could sneak out of the Castle and have supper with me every night and tell me what was going on.'

  'I could! I could!' I cried out. 'And inside the Castle I could go snooping around simply everywhere!'

  'But your main job, of course,' my grandmother said, 'would be to destroy every witch in the place. That really would be the end of the whole organization!'

  'Me destroy them?' I cried. 'How could I do that?'

  'Can't you guess?' she said.

  'Tell me,' I said.

  'Mouse-Maker!' my grandmother shouted. 'Formula 86 Delayed Action Mouse-Maker all over again! You will feed it to everyone in the Castle by putting drops of it into their food! You do remember the recipe, don't you?'

  'Every bit of it!' I answered. 'You mean we're going to make it ourselves?'

  'Why not?' she cried. 'If they can make it, so can
we! It's just a question of knowing what goes into it!'

  'Who's going to climb up the tall trees to get the gruntles' eggs?' I asked her.

  'I will!' she cried. 'I'll do it myself! There's plenty of life in this old dog yet!'

  'I think I'd better do that part of it, Grandmamma. You might come a cropper.'

  'Those are just details!' she cried, waving her stick again. 'We shall let nothing stand in our way!'

  'And what happens after that?' I asked her. 'After the new Grand High Witch and everyone else in the Castle have been turned into mice?'

  'Then the Castle will be completely empty and I shall come in and join you and...'

  'Wait!' I cried. 'Hold on, Grandmamma! I've just had a nasty thought!'

  'What nasty thought?' she said.

  'When the Mouse-Maker turned me into a mouse,' I said, 'I didn't become just any old ordinary mouse that you catch with mouse-traps. I became a talking thinking intelligent mouse-person who wouldn't go near a mouse-trap!'

  My grandmother stopped dead in her tracks. She already knew what was coming next.

  'Therefore,' I went on, 'if we use the Mouse-Maker to turn the new Grand High Witch and all the other witches in the Castle into mice, the whole place will be swarming with very clever, very nasty, very dangerous talking thinking mouse-witches! They'll all be witches in mouse's clothing. And that,' I added, 'could be very horrible indeed.'

  'By golly, you're right!' she cried. 'That never occurred to me!'

  'I couldn't possibly take on a castleful of mouse-witches,' I said.

  'Nor could I,' she said. 'They'd have to be got rid of at once. They'd have to be smashed and bashed and chopped up into little pieces exactly as they were in the Hotel Magnificent.'

  'I'm not doing that,' I said. 'I couldn't anyway. I don't think you could either, Grandmamma. And mouse-traps wouldn't be the slightest use. By the way,' I added, 'The Grand High Witch who did me in was wrong about mouse-traps, wasn't she?'

  'Yes, yes,' my grandmother said impatiently. 'But I'm not concerned with that Grand High Witch. She's been chopped up long ago by the hotel chef. It's the new Grand High Witch we've got to deal with now, the one up in the Castle, and all her assistants. A Grand High Witch is bad enough when she's disguised as a lady, but just think of what she could do if she were a mouse! She could go anywhere!'