The Witches

IN THE KITCHEN

‘The time has come!’ my grandmother said. ‘The great moment has arrived! Are you ready, my darling?’

It was exactly half-past seven. Bruno was in the bowl finishing that fourth banana. ‘Hang on,’ he said. ‘Just a few more bites.’

‘No!’ my grandmother said. ‘We’ve got to go!’ She picked him up and held him tight in her hand. She was very tense and nervous. I had never seen her like that before. ‘I’m going to put you both in my handbag now,’ she said, ‘but I shall leave the clasp undone.’ She popped Bruno into it first. I waited, clutching the little bottle to my chest. ‘Now you,’ she said. She picked me up and gave me a kiss on the nose. ‘Good luck, my darling. Oh, by the way, you do realize you’ve got a tail, don’t you?’

‘A what?’ I said.

‘A tail.

‘I must say that never occurred to me,’ I said. ‘Good gracious me, so I have! I can see it now! I can actually move it! It is rather grand, isn’t it?’

‘I mention it only because it might come in useful when you’re climbing about in the kitchen,’ my grandmother said. ‘You can curl it around and you can it on to things and you can from it and LOWER yourself to the ground from high places.’

‘I wish I’d known this before,’ I said. ‘I could have practised using it.’

‘Too late now,’ my grandmother said. ‘We’ve got to go.’ She popped me into her handbag with Bruno, and at once I took up my usual perch in the small side pocket so that I could poke my head out and see what was going on.

My grandmother picked up her walking stick and out she went into the corridor to the lift. She pressed the button and the lift came up and she got in. There was no one in there with us.

‘Listen,’ she said. ‘I won’t be able to talk to you much once we’re in the Dining Room. If I do, people will think I’m dotty and talking to myself.’

The lift reached the ground floor and stopped with a . My grandmother walked out of it and crossed the lobby of the hotel and entered the Dining Room. It was a huge room with gold decorations on the ceiling and big mirrors around the walls. The regular guests always had their tables reserved for them and most of them were already in their places and starting to eat their suppers. Waiters were buzzing about all over the place, carrying plates and dishes. Our table was a small one beside the right-hand wall about halfway down the room. My grandmother made her way to it and sat down.

Peeping out of the handbag, I could see in the very centre of the room two long tables that were not yet occupied. Each of them carried a notice fixed on to a sort of silver stick and the notices said, RESERVED FOR MEMBERS OF THE RSPCC.

My grandmother looked towards the long tables but said nothing. She unfolded her napkin and spread it over the handbag on her lap. Her hand slid under the napkin and took hold of me gently. With the napkin covering me, she lifted me up close to her face and whispered, ‘I am about to put you on the floor under the table. The tablecloth reaches almost to the ground so no one will see you. Have you got hold of the bottle?’

‘Yes,’ I whispered back. ‘I’m ready, Grandmamma.’

Just then, a waiter in a black suit came and stood by our table. I could see his legs from under the napkin and as soon as I heard his voice, I knew who he was. His name was William. ‘Good evening, madam,’ he said to my grandmother. ‘Where is the little gentleman tonight?’

‘He’s not feeling very well,’ my grandmother said. ‘He’s staying in his room.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ William said. ‘Today there is green-pea soup to start with, and for the main course you have a choice of either grilled fillet of sole or roast lamb.’

‘Pea soup and lamb for me, please,’ my grandmother said. ‘But don’t hurry it, William. I’m in no rush tonight. In fact, you can bring me a glass of dry sherry first.’