The Worst Witch and the Wishing Star (7 page)

ildred had completely forgotten about Tabby, who was still out taking a stroll around the corridors when she arrived back. She had let him out just before setting off and had then become so wrapped up in the lantern-lighting and the dog that Tabby had slipped her mind.

Mildred hurried into the room, closed the door and lifted the holdall on to her bed, pulling back the zip so that the little dog could sit up and look round his new home. In spite of all the manic yelping and bustling when she had found him, he now seemed to be completely calm and sat up politely in the holdall awaiting instructions, gazing at Mildred as if she was the most wonderful sight he had ever seen. Mildred couldn’t help feeling utterly charmed, especially when he solemnly gave her a paw.

‘What a darling dog you are,’ she said softly. ‘You’re a little star – and there’s your name, “Star”, just like the wishing star. What do you think? Is that a good name?’

Star gave an excited woof.

‘No! No!’ said Mildred, holding his jaws together. ‘You can’t bark in here – or anywhere, or I won’t be allowed to keep you. They’ll put you out again and you’ll have to go back where you came from. I wonder where you
did
come from?’

She let go of his nose and he laid his muzzle into her hand.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. ‘Are you back yet, Mil?’ called Enid’s voice.

‘It’s all looking nice and brightly lit out here!’ added Maud, who was obviously there too.

‘Hang on a sec!’ yelled Mildred, stuffing the holdall under the bed and plonking Star back inside it. ‘
Stay
,’ she whispered as loudly as she dared. ‘Don’t move, OK? Not a sound.’

She stood up and looked back at the bed. There was no movement and it was mercifully dark under there, with only the one candle burning on the window sill.

Mildred opened the door a crack and Tabby shot in, rubbing round her ankles.

‘Can we come in?’ asked Enid.

‘No!’ replied Mildred, glancing back over her shoulder at Tabby, who had frozen, ears back, body fluffed out like a furry puffer fish, staring fixedly into the darkness under the bed.

‘Why not?’ said Maud. ‘Are you all right, Mil? Has something happened?’

‘No!’ exclaimed Mildred, smiling a little too brightly. ‘It was all fine. I’m just a bit tired. I thought I might go to bed early.’

‘Not
this
early surely!’ laughed Enid. ‘Don’t you want to hear about Maud and the first-years’ homework? Is Tabby OK, Mil?’

Tabby was still in exactly the same position, now emitting the low whining growl that cats make when upset.

‘He’s fine,’ said Mildred, smiling even more unnaturally. ‘He’s been a bit funny all day – haven’t you, Tab?’ She lunged into the room and grabbed him. ‘It takes him ages to get over the long journey, doesn’t it, Tabs?’

Tabby lurched over Mildred’s shoulder and spat angrily in the direction of the bed.

‘I really
am
going to bed early,’ said Mildred, struggling to hang on to Tabby, who was trying to writhe out of her grasp. ‘I’ve got to get up at the crack of dawn – literally – and I mustn’t oversleep! Night then! Don’t have any fun without me!’

‘Night then, Mil,’ said Maud, sounding a little crestfallen, as she was feeling rather proud of her first real duty helping the first-years and had been looking forward to telling Mildred all about it.

‘See you in the –’ began Enid, but Mildred had closed the door.

‘Sorry, Enid!’ she called from the other side. ‘I just don’t want Tabs to get out. I can’t think what’s wrong with him.’

‘Something’s up,’ said Maud as they made their way back to their own rooms.

‘Perhaps she really
is
tired,’ suggested Enid. ‘I mean, she
does
have to get up early to put out the lanterns and Tabby’s obviously in a state about
some
thing. Maybe she’ll feel better about it all by tomorrow evening.’

‘No,’ said Maud. ‘It isn’t the lanterns. I
know
Mildred and something’s up.’

Tabby was now perched on the bed rail, saucer-eyed and whining angrily. Mildred clicked her fingers and whispered to Star.

‘Come on, Star. Come on, boy, out you come.’ And out he came, hesitant and slightly cringing, for he could tell that the stripey cat was not pleased to see him. Mildred picked Star up and placed him very gently on the bed, where he politely lay down wagging his tail. Tabby doubled to twice his size and let out a volley of hissing spits. Mildred had never heard him sound so angry.

‘Oh, Tab,’ she said, leaning towards him, ‘you’re still my best cat.’ But he hissed at her and jumped on top of the wardrobe with his ears slicked back so tightly that he looked as if he didn’t have any.

Eventually, feeling safe, high up above any danger, he began to blink and doze and his ears gradually lifted back to their usual position.

Mildred decided to get into bed and read. Star couldn’t believe his luck when she gave him a bowl of Tabby’s crunchy catfood on the bed, then let him curl up for the night on top of the covers.

She smoothed his head and a shower of dried mud fell on to the bedspread. ‘I’ll have to give you a wash and brush up tomorrow,’ she laughed.