The Worst Witch and the Wishing Star
PUFFIN
JILL MURPHY started putting books together (literally with a stapler) when she was six. Her Worst Witch series, the first book of which was published in 1974, is hugely successful. She has also written and illustrated several award-winning picture books for younger children.
qualling rain and a biting wind buffeted the pupils of Miss Cackle’s Academy as they struggled to reach the school in time for the first day of the Winter Term. The girls’ cloaks kept blowing inside out, then flapping round their faces like wet flannels, and most of the older pupils (who were expected to keep the cats sitting on their brooms at all times) had given up and crammed the cats into their baskets for safety.
Mildred Hubble, who was
not
one of the best fliers in the school, was valiantly trying her best to keep Tabby (her nervous striped cat) perched on the broom just in case anyone was watching when she arrived. She had wedged Tabby between her back and a laundry-bag stuffed with books, and she could feel his claws through her gymslip as the unruly cloak flapped and whirled above her shoulders.
‘Ouch!’ she yelled. ‘It’s all right, Tab, we’re nearly there … hang on just a teeny bit longer – OW! I didn’t mean
literally
hang on! OW! OUCH!’
Mildred was quite right to be careful; someone
was
watching. Miss Cackle, their kindly headmistress, and Miss Hardbroom, her ferocious second-in-command, were lurking just out of sight in Miss Cackle’s study, watching from the window as the girls wobbled or zoomed (depending on the gusting wind) over the wall and into the concrete playground.
‘Well, just look at that, Miss Hardbroom,’ exclaimed Miss Cackle. ‘Mildred Hubble is the only senior pupil to have her cat
on
the broom, as stated in the regulations.’
‘Hmmm,’ said Miss Hardbroom. ‘Don’t get
too
excited, Miss Cackle, I’m sure she’ll manage some little disaster before too long – she usually does.’
‘Now, now, Miss Hardbroom,’ chided Miss Cackle. ‘It’s the first day of term and we must begin it with hope in our hearts – even when contemplating one of our more challenging pupils!’
Down in the windswept courtyard Miss Bat and Miss Mould were huddling beneath a huge dripping umbrella in the shelter of the castle wall, directing the pupils to put any free-roaming cats into their baskets, leave everything in the cloakrooms and go straight to the Great Hall, as it was obviously far too wet to assemble in the playground. As usual, the first-years (who seemed smaller with each passing year to Mildred and her friends) arrived on foot, looking bedraggled and terrified as they entered the prison-like school and heard the gate clang shut behind them.
To the flying pupils’ horror, the playground was full of puddles, so that the relief of arriving in one piece was ruined as the girls swooped and hovered, desperately trying to avoid landing in the water. One of the first rules of broomstick management is that brooms are badly affected if they are too near the surface of a large amount of water, which can make them stop working abruptly, and the last thing that anyone wanted was to crash-land in a puddle on the very first day.
Mildred was delighted to land safely, well clear of a deep puddle to her left. She jumped off and commanded the broom to wait and hover while she reached round and detached Tabby, claw by claw, from his rucksack-like position under her cloak. She shoved him back on to the broom next to the laundry-bag just in time to grab her best friend Maud, who had made it safely over the wall but was now heading for a small lake along the edge of the playground. Maud was completely tangled up in her cloak and Mildred managed to catch her in the nick of time.
‘Hold on, Maud!’ yelled Mildred, flinging an arm round Maud’s waist and restraining the broom with the other. ‘Tell it to stop or you’ll end up in that huge puddle!’
‘Stay, broom!’ shrieked Maud, unwrapping the cloak from her head and seizing her best friend in a bear hug. ‘Thank goodness you saw me, Mil – you saved my bacon.’
Unfortunately they were not quick enough to save their friend Enid, who lurched suddenly over the wall in an uncontrollable nosedive straight into the lake of water which Maud had managed to avoid.
‘Oh
no
!’ cried Enid, spraying a plume of water behind her as she collapsed into a messy heap of bags and cat basket, with her cloak billowing up around her on the surface of the puddle. ‘Now everything’s ruined – just look at it all!’
Enid’s cat, who was locked in the basket, was yowling his head off as the water seeped in round his paws. The broomstick was floating in the water, looking as if it would never do anything magic again, and Enid, though trying to keep calm, had burst into tears. Mildred and Maud helped Enid to her feet and dragged all her luggage clear of the huge puddle as quickly as possible.
‘It’s all right, Enid,’ said Maud reassuringly, wringing out the hem of her friend’s dripping cloak. ‘It’s not as bad as it looks and your broom will be fine as soon as it’s dried out.’
‘Hey, you two!’ said Mildred suddenly. ‘Nice to see you again!’ She held her arms out and the three best friends flung their arms round each other and jumped about in the rain – unexpectedly pleased, despite the horrible weather and the long Winter Term ahead, that they were back together again, come what may.
