The Worst Witch and the Wishing Star (6 page)

ildred’s first evening as Lantern Monitor approached at the speed of light – in fact, she had never known a double potions lesson go by so fast before.

‘Isn’t it strange,’ she had mused to Maud at lunch-break, ‘
you
know – how time shoots past when you’re
not
looking forward to something, like going to the dentist, but takes forever if you’re waiting for something nice like a birthday party?’

Maud tapped on Mildred’s door at the end of the day and found her friend studying the map of all the corridors and stairs that had been assigned to her.

‘Oh, hi, Maud,’ said Mildred, trying to sound confident. ‘Do you think it’s dark enough to get started yet? I don’t want to get stranded in a pitch-black corridor somewhere before I’ve lit everything.’

As if to answer her question, the first bat detached itself from the sleeping bat-huddle, nosed open the bat flap and set off hunting.

‘I guess that answers my question!’ laughed Mildred, picking up the holdall. ‘Wish me luck.’

‘Good luck, Millie,’ said Maud. ‘I’m just off myself, monitoring the first-years while they do their homework, so I’ll see you later.’

‘See you then,’ said Mildred. ‘Gosh, Maud, aren’t we getting grown-up and responsible!’

Mildred lit the taper-lantern, hoisted the bag on to her broom and set off down the corridor, the broom hovering obediently behind her like a well-trained dog. She soon got the hang of flipping open the little door at the side of each wall-lantern, lighting the candle with the taper and watching the golden glow spread along the walls and ceilings.

The light was failing by the time she reached the playground and the pine trees were beginning to look inky black and sinister outside the high prison-like walls.

‘At least it’s not raining,’ she thought, trying not to be unnerved by the darkness.

Mildred lit the lanterns on the outside of the huge oak doors, which lit the way across to the playground gates. Then she saw something move – something lurking outside the gates, half-hidden in the gloom. Mildred could sense a presence out there, watching her.

‘Don’t be silly,’ she scolded herself. ‘It’s just your imagination giving you the creeps.’

To reassure herself, Mildred held up the taper-lantern and to her horror she saw a pair of red glinting eyes staring back at her. Her heart began to hammer as she lowered the lantern and kept perfectly still.

For a few minutes there was no sound at all, except her own heartbeat thudding in her ears, then she heard a low whimper – then another, then more and more, getting faster and faster, until they joined together in a chain of high-pitched yelping. Mildred could tell that it was the sound of an animal in distress and she began to feel curious instead of petrified. Cautiously, she approached the gates and held up the lantern again.

t was a dog. A small, filthy, tatty, terrified dog, who leapt at the gates, scrabbling frantically, trying to push his nose through the bars and licking the air in a desperate attempt to make contact with her.

Mildred was astonished. The secret wish she had made on the shooting star was for a dog – only she hadn’t meant
now
! She had sort of been hoping that it might appear on her birthday, or during the holidays – in fact, any time at all other than her first evening as Lantern Monitor!

‘Shhh!’ said Mildred, dropping to her knees and putting her hands through the bars so that she could smooth his fur and try to calm him down. ‘Shh now! It’s all right – I’ll come over the gates and get you.
Do
stop yelping or someone’ll come.’

Mildred left the holdall on the ground, took the taper-lantern with her and hovered up the inside of the gates and over the top. The little dog was hysterical with excitement and nearly knocked her off the broom as she hovered neatly down the other side and landed on the grass.
Very
carefully, Mildred put the taper-lantern to one side, sat down and allowed the dog to spring into her lap, frenziedly washing her beneath her chin and barking joyfully in her ear.

‘Hey, that’s enough, little dog!’ she laughed, putting her arms round him and holding him off. He was very thin; Mildred could feel his ribs sticking out as she tried to restrain him. ‘It’s OK, little one, you’ll be all right now; I’ve got you.’

For several minutes Mildred sat on the grass in the flickering lantern-light, smoothing and petting the grimy little animal. Gradually she calmed him down until he stopped yelping and scrabbling, finally settling into her lap with a comfortable-sounding doggy grunt.

‘
Now
what?’ thought Mildred. ‘I can’t just leave him here after all my promises to help him – especially as he’s my wish come true! Perhaps I’d better take him back to my room before someone comes to check that I’ve done the lanterns properly.’

Mildred stood up, still holding the dog in her arms, and lowered him (fortunately, he was a very small dog with short, sturdy legs) on to the back of the broom. He sat very calmly and didn’t try to jump off, so she picked up the taper-lantern and tried a ten-inch hover to see if he could cope with flying. The upward movement didn’t seem to worry him at all – he even gave a little wag of his tail – so Mildred continued to hover up as smoothly as possible, pausing to light the outside lanterns, then inching her way very gently over the top of the gates and back down into the concrete playground.

To her surprise, the little dog just sat there on the broom, his head tilted slightly to one side, making no attempt to jump off. Mildred glanced across the darkening yard up at the school windows, some of which were softly lit by candles. She rarely saw the school from the outside at night and was surprised how beautiful it looked, with its lantern-light and glowing windows. She could also make out several bats flitting in and out of the long shadows like clockwork flying toys.

It suddenly felt rather exciting to be out and about, being a responsible Lantern Monitor, having completed her task without mishap, and Mildred couldn’t help feeling slightly irritated that she was now lumbered with an illicit animal that might get her into serious trouble on the first evening. She smoothed his grimy head and wondered how on earth she was going to sneak him up to her room.

The holdall came to her rescue. It was a large zipped bag with quite a lot of room inside, despite all the equipment stuffed into it.

‘In you hop!’ said Mildred, unzipping the bag, arranging the fire blanket on top of the more uncomfortable items, such as the fire extinguisher, and patting the blanket invitingly.

The dog jumped in at once and Mildred re-zipped the bag, leaving it slightly open so that he could breathe. She heaved the holdall on to the back of the broom by its handles, and the broom dipped lower for a few seconds under the weight, then shifted back up to its usual hovering level.

‘Just keep quiet,’ whispered Mildred into the opening. ‘Not a sound.’

Mildred blew out the taper and candle now that her task was completed, and retraced her steps across the yard, back along the warmly glowing corridors and up the spiral staircase into the welcoming sanctuary of her room.