Chapter 3
Jessica woke with a start early the next morning. The stretcher had been creaky and uncomfortable to sleep on, and for a minute she wasn’t sure where she was. She could see Sophie still asleep in the bed by the window and was about to roll over and go back to sleep when she heard an ominous rumbling sound. Jessica gasped and lay still, her heart thudding with shock. The rumbling grew louder and appeared to be coming from underneath the stretcher. Jessica decided she couldn’t bear it any longer and leapt off the stretcher onto Sophie’s bed. The stretcher collapsed in a tangle of blankets as a blood-curdling scream rang out. Sophie sat bolt upright as Jessica clutched her in panic.
‘What is it? What’s happening?’
‘I don’t know,’ wailed Jessica. ‘I think there’s a monster under my bed. I heard it growling.’ She started to shake and through chattering teeth pleaded with Sophie to get rid of it. Fortunately for Sophie, who was strangely reluctant to leave the safety of her bed, the scream stopped as a large black cat scrambled out from under the pile of blankets on the floor and stalked from the room with offended dignity.
‘Oh, it was only a cat,’ breathed Jessica thankfully. ‘He’s huge. I wonder if he belongs to Aunt Hazel?’
‘Probably,’ agreed Sophie, in relief.
They asked Aunt Hazel at breakfast and she smiled.
‘I should have warned you about Malachi. He likes that room and he doesn’t take to change very well. That’s probably why he was growling at you. Either that or he’d lost a mouse under the bed.’
Jessica went pale at the thought of this and insisted that Sophie check under both beds before she would go into the room again.
The morning went better than the girls had expected. Aunt Hazel had decided to do some baking and let Sophie and Jessica help her to make scones, apple pies and gingerbread biscuits. She dug an old tin cutter out of the cupboard for them to make gingerbread men, which they decorated with raisins for buttons.
‘Mine look a bit wonky,’ complained Jessica as they put the finishing touches to the cooked gingerbread men with melted chocolate and white icing. ‘Yours are much better.’
‘Yes they are, aren’t they?’ agreed Sophie complacently.
‘I feel sorry for them. I keep remembering the story of the gingerbread man who got eaten by the fox. I don’t want to eat them.’
‘We have to eat something, Sophie pointed out. ‘I tell you what, if it worries you so much, I’ll eat yours.’ Jessica objected to this and ran off shrieking, clutching her gingerbread men while Sophie chased her, calling, ’run, run, run as fast as you can.’ Collapsing in a breathless heap, they ate one gingerbread man each as Aunt Hazel smiled indulgently and set the pies out to cool.
‘After lunch,’ said Aunt Hazel, ‘I’d like you girls to go for a walk. I have a meeting to go to.’
‘A WI meeting?’ asked Sophie innocently. Aunt Hazel blushed.
‘Yes, that’s right. Perhaps you’d like to go to the shops for me. I’ll walk along part of the way with you.’
This they duly did, and Sophie muttered as Aunt Hazel disappeared into her friend’s house.
‘She’s still trying to get rid of us. We’ll have to find out what they do at these WI meetings.’
‘It’s probably totally boring,’ said Jessica cheerfully. ‘What do we have to get at the shops?’
Sophie pulled out the list and made a face.
‘Soap and a packet of brown sugar. Oh, and collect a parcel from the pharmacy.’
Jessica sighed. ‘That’s not very interesting,’ she complained. She and Sophie spent the rest of the way to the shops compiling an imaginary list of all the things they would have liked to buy. They had got as far as a golden carriage pulled by six white horses when they turned the corner by the grocery store.
‘You’d better get a pumpkin instead,’ said Jessica with a giggle. ‘Then all you’d need would be mice for the horses, and a fairy godmother with a magic wand.’
They bought the soap and brown sugar and went into the pharmacy. This was much more exciting than the grocers. Glass bottles of all shapes, sizes and colours were arranged invitingly on glass backed display shelves. There was a tray of lipsticks near the counter with the enticing label SAMPLE. Jessica and Sophie duly sampled each of these. They painted their lips, cheeks and eyebrows and Sophie was beginning a rather magnificent lipstick tattoo on Jessica’s arm when the young woman behind the counter coughed loudly to get their attention.
‘Can I help you?’ she asked icily. She stared disapprovingly at Sophie, who stared defiantly back.
‘We’ve come to collect a package for our Aunt Hazel.’
‘Oh yes, here it is,’ sniffed the superior young woman, as she placed a large bottle on the counter. ‘I’ll just wrap that up for you. One minute please.’ The phone rang as she spoke and she dived to answer it. Sophie and Jessica stood patiently waiting, then Sophie gasped and clapped her hands on her mouth.
‘What is it?’ asked Jessica in alarm.
‘Look,’ hissed Sophie, and pointed to the bottle.
Jessica looked at the bottle where it stood on the counter. She read the label.
Witch Hazel. To be used as directed.
‘Aunt Hazel’s a witch,’ Sophie squeaked.
‘She can’t be,’ protested Jessica doubtfully.
‘She is. Look at the name on the label.’
The girls stood in shock as the young woman wrapped the bottle and handed it to them.
‘Be careful not to drop it,’ she instructed.
Sophie and Jessica left the shop on trembling legs and collapsed onto the seat by the bus stop.
‘She is a witch.’ groaned Sophie. 'Everyone must know.' Chemists always put people’s proper names on medicines and stuff. What are we going to do?’
‘We could ring Mum. She can’t have known or she wouldn’t have sent us here.’
‘Mum’s at a conference. I don’t know where she is and anyway, we’d have to ask Aunt Hazel’s permission to use the phone, so that wouldn’t work. We don’t have any phone card to use the one at the petrol station.’
‘What are we going to do?’ asked Jessica again, with a tremor in her voice.
‘Don’t worry,’ Sophie assured her. ‘She can’t be a very bad witch or someone would have told the police.’
‘Perhaps they are scared to. Perhaps she really is a witch and everyone has to do what she wants in case she puts a spell on them.’
Sophie admitted she hadn’t thought of that. ‘It explains the black cat, though.’ She thought for a few minutes then gave a shout. ‘Jessica, I know what WI stands for. I’ve just worked it out.’
‘What?’ Jessica gazed at her round eyed.
Sophie looked around to see that they weren’t being over heard, then in a dramatic whisper announced, ‘Witches Incorporated.’
Jessica went pale. ‘That means there are more of them. They must have meetings where they decide what spells to put on people.’
‘Let’s find out,’ suggested Sophie. ‘We know the house that Aunt Hazel went into. If we creep under the window we might hear something.’
‘I couldn’t. I’d be too scared.’
‘Then you can stand watch while I listen,’ said Sophie bravely. Jessica tried to argue her out of this as they walked down the road, pointing out that it could be dangerous.
‘What if you got caught? They might turn you into a frog or something.’
‘Only Princes get turned into frogs,’ said Sophie, with more confidence than she felt.