The Worst Witch to the Rescue (13 page)

‘Are you
sure
she took him all the way up there?’ she asked, clutching at straws. ‘Perhaps she just put him in a cupboard in Drusilla’s room?’

‘No, it was the hollow pine outside the school gates,’ insisted Cyril. ‘She was really definite about it.’

‘But it’s about thirty metres high!’ said Mildred. ‘The other trees are really tall anyway, but that one’s a good three metres above the others.’

She closed her eyes, imagining going out on a rescue mission on such an awful night when five minutes ago she had been tucked up with Tabby, thinking how nice it felt to be safe and warm inside.

‘He’s terrified of heights,’ continued Cyril relentlessly. ‘He might fall out and the wind’s getting worse. I think there’s going to be a storm.’

As if to underline his words, the wind rose to a screaming pitch and a squall of rain suddenly lashed against the castle walls, spraying an arc of drops through the narrow window.

‘He really
is
scared,’ said Cyril. ‘His voice went all wobbly when he told me where they were taking him. I promised I’d ask you to help.
Will
you help?’

‘Of course I will,’ said Mildred, trying hard to sound confident and capable. ‘I’ll just fetch my broom.’

Tabby burrowed back under the
covers at the mention of the word ‘broom’. Mildred sat on the edge of the bed and stroked him reassuringly.

‘It’s OK, Tab,’ she said gently. ‘This is an illegal mission, so you’re excused broomstick duty tonight.’ She turned to the toad. ‘Where would you like to go, Cyril, now that your task is done?’

‘Could you pop me back outside the school gates?’ said Cyril. ‘Then I can make my way down through the forest. I
love
this sort of weather actually. It’s very good for the complexion.’

Mildred glanced at the toad’s dry and knobbly skin and stifled a giggle.

Up in the hollow pine, Einstein was trying hard not to panic. The wind had set up a constant moan, with sudden bursts of extra force that felt as if they would snap the already weak and hollowed tree in two.

‘She isn’t going to come,’ thought Einstein dismally. ‘The whole tree will disintegrate and I’ll be smashed into tiny pieces.’

He tried keeping himself tightly hidden inside his shell, but the horrible noise outside was so frightening that
he couldn’t stop himself coming out to check. The darkness all around him and the rain spraying in through the entrance made him feel even worse, so he retreated inside his shell – then he came out again – then he went back in again. In the end he did this so many times that he was beside himself with exhausted confusion.

‘
Please
come and get me out of here, Mildred Hubble,’ he said desperately. ‘
Please
.’

Mildred was doing her best. She had decided not to involve Maud or Enid this time. When she imagined waking Maud up and announcing that she needed help rescuing an escaped tortoise from the top of the tallest pine tree in the forest in the middle of a gale, she could hear how ridiculous it sounded.

‘No, Mildred,’ she said to herself.
‘You’re on your own with this one.’

The summer dress was too flimsy for an adventure like this, so Mildred put her school cardigan on over her pyjamas to keep a bit warmer and tucked the trouser ends into her socks. She wrapped her cloak around her, tied it in the middle with her school sash to stop it blowing about and set off to the schoolyard, the toad in one hand and her trusty broom in the other.

When she reached the side door, which was smaller and easier to unbolt, she was suddenly struck with terror as she looked out into the rain-swept noisy darkness. Mildred was afraid of the dark – a most embarrassing problem for a trainee witch – and it didn’t get much darker and more frightening than the night waiting for her outside.

‘He must be petrified all the way up there,’ said Cyril, as if reading her thoughts. ‘Just put me down here if you like. It’s only a short hop to the gates and there’s a ten-centimetre gap for me to squeeze under.’

‘All right,’ said Mildred. ‘Thank you so much for telling me where he is. I’m sure we’ll be OK once I’ve found the tree.’

For a mad moment, she wondered if she might ask Cyril to come with her for company as she watched him hop and fop down the steps and disappear
into the storm.

‘What am I thinking about?’ she asked herself. ‘Making friends with a toad! It’s funny how perfectly he speaks English, though. I wonder if I lived in a different country, would the toad speak in that language? And does the spell adapt to any language in the world? Perhaps I’ve discovered an international spell. Mildred Hubble, international spell-maker!’

At that moment a gust of wind banged the door loudly back against the inside corridor. Mildred grabbed it and waited nervously, straining her ears to hear if anyone had noticed, but no one came. She decided to take a lantern from the corridor and tie it on to the front of her broom to light her way. The only thing to use was her sash, which she took from her waist, causing the cloak to billow out around her.

‘OK, broom,’ she said, trying to
sound like a person in charge. ‘Hover. That’s right!’

Mildred stepped outside, with the broom doing its best to keep steady in the gusting wind.

The door slammed deafeningly shut behind her. ‘Can’t be helped,’ thought Mildred desperately as she arranged herself side-saddle on the broom and tucked her cloak firmly underneath her. ‘OK, little broom. Up, up, up and over the wall.’

iss Hardbroom was having a late-evening cup of hot chocolate with Miss Cackle in Miss Cackle’s study.

‘There’s a door banging downstairs somewhere,’ said Miss Cackle, offering Miss Hardbroom a biscuit from a large tin. ‘Sounds like a nasty storm’s brewing out there.’

‘Very nasty,’ agreed Miss Hardbroom, taking a custard cream and resting it in her saucer. ‘I was just wondering, Miss Cackle, how much longer we have to
plough on
trying to educate Mildred Hubble in this establishment.’

‘Why?’ asked Miss Cackle, looking up from the tin, where she was trying to decide whether to take a chocolate biscuit or a pink wafer, or maybe both. ‘What’s she done
now?
’

‘Everything,’
said Miss Hardbroom wearily. ‘It would take all night to list the events and we’ve only been back for one day. I don’t think I have the
stamina
to struggle through the entire term trying to keep Mildred Hubble in some sort of order. I honestly don’t know how she does it – she’s a sort of trouble magnet.’

‘But rather sweet, don’t you think?’ said Miss Cackle with a fond smile. ‘Always considering others and such
a good owner to that hopeless cat of hers.’

‘That’s all very well,’ said Miss Hardbroom crisply. ‘But having a rather sweet nature doesn’t necessarily equip a girl to be a suitable pupil at this school – the finest witches’ academy for miles around.’

‘The
only
witches’ academy for miles around,’ laughed Miss Cackle, attempting to inject a little humour before her colleague plunged into an endless list of Mildred’s faults.