The Worst Witch to the Rescue (2 page)

‘Mildred?’ called Ethel, hovering expertly like a helicopter above the little cat’s upturned face. ‘Is that you down there? Are you OK?’

The hat leaned back, revealing Mildred Hubble’s face. ‘Oh hi, Ethel,’ she said. ‘
You’re
early. I just stopped here for a little rest – well, actually, Tabs fell off and I came down to save him and
then
we stopped for a rest. He’s done quite well so far, considering how scared he is of flying. It’s so difficult now that we have to keep them on the brooms all the time. Flying was
so
much easier when we could just bung them in their baskets.’

‘Easier for
you
, you mean,’ said Ethel, hovering down through the branches until she found a space next to Mildred. ‘Nightstar was just born to fly. She was brilliant from day one.’

‘Hmm,’ mumbled Mildred. ‘Yes, well, you’ve always been the lucky one, Ethel. It wasn’t my fault I was given Tabby – though he’s got a lovely nature and he’s the perfect pet, even if he
can’t
do anything else.’

Ethel arranged her broom and luggage carefully behind a cluster of branches which grew from the trunk like a giant upturned hand.

‘Budge up,’ she said, sitting down next to Mildred. ‘What’s that in your cat basket?’ she asked, peering inside the basket, where there was definitely something lurking at the far end.

‘Oh – er – nothing!’ said Mildred brightly. ‘Just some bits and pieces I couldn’t fit into my suitcase. The cat basket was empty for the fight, so I thought I’d use it for extra stuff – you know. How did you get on with the holiday project by the way?’ she added, swiftly changing the subject.

‘Ah, yes,’ said Ethel, ‘the holiday project. Well, it was quite a challenge, wasn’t it? How did
you
get on?’

A shy smile spread over Mildred’s face. ‘Quite well, as a matter of fact,’ she replied. ‘I had a
really
good idea. In fact, it was the best idea I’ve ever had in my whole life! Then I looked up all the relevant bits in an ancient spell book in our local library. It’s an amazing old book, tiny print – you actually need a magnifying glass – and hardly any pictures, so it’s a bit boring, but it’s got everything in it. Anyway, I’ve got it all written down, so for once I can’t wait to get to school and show everyone. Makes a change, eh?’

‘What exactly
is
the spell?’ asked Ethel casually.

‘Well,’ said Mildred proudly, ‘it isn’t actually a known spell. I sort of made it up by myself. It’s to make an animal able to speak. Not like when a human turns into an animal, because, when that happens, the human sort of
becomes
the animal and can talk as the animal would. No, this is to make a small animal under twenty-five centimetres square able to have a conversation with a person. The animal has to be a maximum size because you have to make an exact formula for a particular body area – which means that it has to be correct down to the last detail. I tried to get it bigger, because I was dying to have a chat with Tabby, but I couldn’t get the equation right for the larger size, so I gave up trying. Anyway, I’ve actually managed to work it all out for twenty-five centimetres and under –
all the incantations, and the herbs and how to mix it – so you could have a chat with, say, a toad or a field mouse. Oh, and it only works for two weeks on each animal and after those two weeks you can never get it to speak again. Weird, isn’t it?’

‘How do you know it only lasts for two weeks?’ asked Ethel, intrigued. ‘I mean, if
you
invented the spell, how do you
know
?’

Mildred smiled.

‘Well, actually I
have
tried it,’ she said. ‘I tried it on a shrew and a young hedgehog and a newt, who all fitted the size criterion – I don’t know
why
I’m telling you all this Ethel, I expect your project is a zillion times more interesting.’

Ethel did her best to look admiring and pleased for Mildred.

‘Gosh, Mildred,’ she enthused, ‘you really have come up with a winner there. My idea’s
nothing
compared with that. What did the shrew and the hedgehog
say
?’

‘Not much actually,’ said Mildred. ‘The hedgehog was quite quiet and shy, just asked if it could have a saucer of milk and be directed to the nearest slug-infested flowerbed, but the shrew was really quite nasty – very bad-tempered and complaining about everything. I was glad when the two weeks were up and it suddenly went back to squeaking.
I noticed that both of them stopped being able to talk bang on fourteen days at noon and that, however hard I tried, I couldn’t get them speaking again. So I used the formula on a newt and it worked, though newts aren’t very chatty either – just for two weeks again, so it’s been properly tested. I’ve written it all up and put it in this special folder. Look, fifteen pages! H.B. won’t believe it until she sees how well it works.’ She held up a neat blue folder.

Mildred suddenly felt slightly uneasy, sitting there in a tree with Ethel, having what appeared to be a normal, pleasant conversation. Up until this point the two girls had never had any conversation longer than two minutes without an argument developing.

‘Come on then,’ she said, putting the folder back into her school bag and beginning to gather her things together. ‘We’d better set off or we’ll be late after
our early start. Thanks for listening, Ethel. I must admit I’m quite proud of myself, for once.’

‘And with very good reason,’ Ethel said, smiling. ‘It’s an excellent idea. I wish I’d thought of it myself.’

As they pulled themselves up on the branches, gathering their cats and bags, Ethel lurched sideways, knocking Mildred’s overstuffed school bag. It was still unfastened and everything went tumbling down through the branches in a cascade of pages and folders. At
the same time, her pencil tin flipped open and her twenty brand-new sharp-pointed coloured pencils clink-clinked down the tree, bouncing through the twigs and buds.

‘Oh no!’ exclaimed Mildred as Tabby scrabbled further up the tree, miaowing with fright at the commotion.