I nod eagerly because this rules out any chance that I’ve been sleep-writing.
‘But it could be someone who listens to other people’s conversations, or knows someone who has lived here a long time and knows everything about everyone in Witch Point. What do you think?’ She holds various masks in front of her face. Some of them are sinister, some garishly comic.
‘I don’t want to point a finger in the wrong direction.’
‘Nor me. But it’s fun discussing it, isn’t it? Perhaps we could be detectives like Sherlock and Watson, or Wells and Wong. Let’s try.’ She holds up a moveable jaw, and moves it out of time with her words. ‘What are the possibilities?’
I actually don’t think it’s much fun, but I trust her. ‘Well. All the letters are written in green ink. Perhaps that’s a clue?’ I can hear the hope in my voice. I know for a fact that I don’t own any pens with green ink. I would have liked one but not now. ‘Most of the pens on reception are green.’
‘It’s worth bearing in mind.’ She prances in front of the mirror in a hooped skirt. ‘Any other clues?’
‘Well, it’s probably really stupid and it’s just a thought, but do you think Gwyneth could be stirring up all this talk of The Witch to get publicity for her play?’
Dorcas stops dead still. ‘Genius. You absolute legend. I bet that’s it.’
‘Do you think? I mean, I just thought it was a silly idea at first but…’ I think about it. Gwyneth is so ambitious. ‘It’s a possibility.’
I don’t like to cast aspersions on anyone. It feels wrong. Like bullying.
‘I think we must keep a close eye on her. She is definitely our lead suspect.’ Dorcas regretfully puts the costumes back into the trunk. ‘I need to go home now. I have chores to do.’
‘I’ll help you.’ I try to stand up, but have to sit down again straight away because I feel woozy. Dorcas rushes over.
‘Whoa. Wilde. Are you OK?’
‘Yes. I’m fine. It’s the heat. I’m OK, honestly.’ She helps me to stand. The dizziness is lack of sleep and the heat, I’m certain. ‘Dorcas. Can I tell you something?’
‘Of course, anything. I’ll take it to the grave.’
I believe her. ‘I’ve been sleepwalking. At least I think I have. I keep waking up in strange places. On the roof. And even weirder, on top of Witch Point windmill. I don’t know what’s happening to me or what’s causing it, but it’s really scary and I’m worried I’m going to hurt myself.’
Dorcas looks stunned. ‘Wow. You are lucky to be alive.’
‘I know.’
She mulls it over. ‘I think you’re sleepwalking because of the heat. I’ve definitely read something about that somewhere.’
‘How do I stop myself from doing it?’ I battle the crack in my voice. ‘I haven’t slept properly in days.’
‘I don’t really know but I can stay over if you like? Tomorrow night? I can ask my mam and then I can watch you while you sleep and, if you try to get out of bed, I can stop you.’
‘You’d stay awake all night?’
‘I’d do my utmost best.’
‘Thank you.’
‘And tomorrow, in school, let’s keep an eye on Suspect One, Fox-Rutherford, first name Gwyneth, and also on the reception desk to see if there are any green pen stealers.’
‘It’s a plan.’
‘Partners in crime. Solving, I mean.’
We shake on it and the world smiles in new colours. I have a real, proper, totally decent friend and I don’t have to be afraid.
10
I’ve hardly slept, and I am way too tired for stupid school. I left my tie hanging over the chair in my bedroom. Mr Ricketts asks where it is and makes sure I know I can’t get away with things just because I am the new girl. Mortifying.
We are on our way to Page to Stage. Dorcas is doing a superb impression of Gwyneth and Jemima is doing a vocal warm-up.
‘It’s a thing I learned from an opera singer. All you have to do is this, three times, and you are as warmed up as it is humanly possible to be.’ Jemima makes a noise which goes from a belly-deep nightmare note, to a high-pitched untuned organ, then slides her voice back down again. She does it a second time and I move away. Ivy rolls her eyes at me sneakily. There is dissension in the ranks.
We are in the hall today. It’s first lesson so the floors are pretty clean. Gwyneth is parading about, giving us a pep talk. I zone out and watch a group of Year Threes troop past on their way to yet another trip. I wonder what it would be like if I stuck it out here and went up to Witch Point High. Of course, I’m going back to my yellow flat by the sea with my dad, so I won’t be, but today I can imagine myself having a really good time and almost wish I was staying.
‘The witch called Winter had a sixth sense.’
‘Lewis hasn’t got a first sense, Miss.’
Raucous laughter and a dead arm for Branwen from Lewis.
‘The witch could talk to animals and…’
‘Aww, I wish I could talk to animals. That’s so cute.’ Holly is animal mad. She even has animal badges on her bag.
‘Less cute, perhaps, she could trap the spirits of the dead in this world.’ Everyone listens intently. ‘She trapped the seven sisters in the rivers, so that they would fall from the waterfall to their perpetual deaths forever. Imagine that? Always falling and hitting the ground over and over.’
My stomach is bouncing like a kid on a trampoline. This story is horrible. Why are legends and stories for children always so grim?
Mr Ricketts appears outside the hall and raps the glass to get Gwyneth’s attention.
‘On with rehearsal, my trusty troupe of troupers.’ She leaves with a flourish and we move into our groups.
Holly opens her animal-badged bag and screams. It’s another curse.
‘No!’ Susan Stevens squeals. She looks like she’s been crying all night.
‘Read it.’ Rachel Howells pushes her way into their group.
‘She don’t have to read it if she don’t want to.’ Lewis sticks up for everyone. I really like him.
‘It’s fine. I’ll read it. I have nothing to hide.’ Holly opens the letter and reads it to us. It’s very brave and I admire her for it.
‘Dear Holly. A curse for you. We all know you think you are perfect and your sister and friends are perfect too. But do they all know about your nose, Holly? I curse it to grow again until it’s as long as an elephant’s trunk. Yours faithfully, THE WITCH.’
Ivy’s mouth almost hits the floor. Jemima smiles brightly. I don’t know what to say. Poor Holly. She stands her ground.
‘To be honest, yes, I had my nose altered.’