It was the first day back at school after the summer holidays and the playground was full of excited children. Class Three were hopping up and down inside their enormous new
school coats, and Classes Four and Five were charging about shouting WE WENT TO THE SEASIDE AND EVERYWHERE SMELLED OF EGGIES! or else huddled in groups comparing hair clips.
But just inside the school gate there was another group of children. They were a bit bigger than the others, but they weren’t excited or running about. These children had pale faces, and
eyes that glittered with fear. From time to time a trembling child crept in through the school gate to join them, but not one of them took a single step nearer the school than was absolutely
necessary.
One boy was just looking at his watch, as if in some forlorn hope that the hands would start going backwards, when from a long way off there came a rattling. It came closer and closer until a
small car came into view. Its bumper was tied on with string, its wings were patched with duct tape, and it was covered in grime and rust.
‘Here comes Rodney,’ said the boy with the watch.
The car stopped by the school gate and one of the doors flapped open. Out of the opening came a large foot. And then another.
All the children, their faces blue with terror, stared at the boy who got out of the car.
Rodney waved a big hand at them.
‘I span round really fast fifty-three times last night,’ he said, proudly. ‘And I
still
wasn’t sick!’
And then he shouldered his way through the group of children by the gate and strolled happily down towards the school building.
There was a long pause as the children watched Rodney walk away.
‘He’s not scared,’ said Jack, at last.
‘Of course he’s not,’ said Serise grumpily. ‘He’s too stupid to be scared. I bet Rodney’s too stupid to be scared of a charging bull, even. Or a runaway
double-decker bus. Or a shark jumping out of the canal with its jaws wide open.’
‘Or a witch,’ said Emily, in a small voice.
Everyone froze. Then they all nodded sadly.
‘The bell will be going soon.’ Anil looked at his watch again. ‘And then we’ll
have
to go in, won’t we.’
Emily started crying.
‘Four minutes, exactly,’ went on Anil. ‘Three minutes fifty-five seconds. Three minutes fifty—’
Slacker Punchkin put a flabby arm absentmindedly round Anil’s neck and tried to strangle him.
‘The trouble with Rodney is that he doesn’t believe there’s any such thing as witches,’ Slacker said. ‘He’s just like a grown-up that way.’
‘Yes,’ said Serise scornfully. ‘Stupid.’
‘I mean, even my dad said it was silly to worry about a witch,’ went on Slacker.
Winsome rescued Anil. ‘Perhaps it
is
silly.’
Emily sniffed sadly. ‘But we’ve all seen it,’ she said. ‘Magic, all over the whole school. And we saw how peculiar last year’s Year Six went.’
‘I suppose so,’ agreed Winsome, frowning. ‘But then we never heard any of them actually say
my class teacher Miss Broom is a witch,
did we?’
‘That’s true,’ said Jack, perking up a bit.
Serise turned on him with contempt. ‘No,’ she snapped. ‘But I’ve heard them say
Miss Broom’s a winter vest!
and
Miss Broom’s a weasel’s
nostril!
’
Emily started crying again.
‘Yes,’ agreed Anil. ‘Just as if something was stopping them saying the word
witch.
Just as if they were all under some spell which stopped them telling anyone about
it.’
Winsome tried to look brave. ‘Well, at least year’s Year Six all survived, didn’t they? I mean, they didn’t end up turned into toadstools or piglets or
anything.’
There was a short pause.
‘Although we never did find out where all those rhinoceroses came from that were out in the playing field that day,’ Anil pointed out.
Jack suddenly grinned.
‘Hey, it’d be brilliant to be a rhino,’ he said. ‘If I was a rhino I’d charge right through the Co-op spearing doughnuts on my
school coats, and Classes Four and Five were charging about shouting WE WENT TO THE SEASIDE AND EVERYWHERE SMELLED OF EGGIES! or else huddled in groups comparing hair clips.
But just inside the school gate there was another group of children. They were a bit bigger than the others, but they weren’t excited or running about. These children had pale faces, and
eyes that glittered with fear. From time to time a trembling child crept in through the school gate to join them, but not one of them took a single step nearer the school than was absolutely
necessary.
One boy was just looking at his watch, as if in some forlorn hope that the hands would start going backwards, when from a long way off there came a rattling. It came closer and closer until a
small car came into view. Its bumper was tied on with string, its wings were patched with duct tape, and it was covered in grime and rust.
‘Here comes Rodney,’ said the boy with the watch.
The car stopped by the school gate and one of the doors flapped open. Out of the opening came a large foot. And then another.
All the children, their faces blue with terror, stared at the boy who got out of the car.
Rodney waved a big hand at them.
‘I span round really fast fifty-three times last night,’ he said, proudly. ‘And I
still
wasn’t sick!’
And then he shouldered his way through the group of children by the gate and strolled happily down towards the school building.
There was a long pause as the children watched Rodney walk away.
‘He’s not scared,’ said Jack, at last.
‘Of course he’s not,’ said Serise grumpily. ‘He’s too stupid to be scared. I bet Rodney’s too stupid to be scared of a charging bull, even. Or a runaway
double-decker bus. Or a shark jumping out of the canal with its jaws wide open.’
‘Or a witch,’ said Emily, in a small voice.
Everyone froze. Then they all nodded sadly.
‘The bell will be going soon.’ Anil looked at his watch again. ‘And then we’ll
have
to go in, won’t we.’
Emily started crying.
‘Four minutes, exactly,’ went on Anil. ‘Three minutes fifty-five seconds. Three minutes fifty—’
Slacker Punchkin put a flabby arm absentmindedly round Anil’s neck and tried to strangle him.
‘The trouble with Rodney is that he doesn’t believe there’s any such thing as witches,’ Slacker said. ‘He’s just like a grown-up that way.’
‘Yes,’ said Serise scornfully. ‘Stupid.’
‘I mean, even my dad said it was silly to worry about a witch,’ went on Slacker.
Winsome rescued Anil. ‘Perhaps it
is
silly.’
Emily sniffed sadly. ‘But we’ve all seen it,’ she said. ‘Magic, all over the whole school. And we saw how peculiar last year’s Year Six went.’
‘I suppose so,’ agreed Winsome, frowning. ‘But then we never heard any of them actually say
my class teacher Miss Broom is a witch,
did we?’
‘That’s true,’ said Jack, perking up a bit.
Serise turned on him with contempt. ‘No,’ she snapped. ‘But I’ve heard them say
Miss Broom’s a winter vest!
and
Miss Broom’s a weasel’s
nostril!
’
Emily started crying again.
‘Yes,’ agreed Anil. ‘Just as if something was stopping them saying the word
witch.
Just as if they were all under some spell which stopped them telling anyone about
it.’
Winsome tried to look brave. ‘Well, at least year’s Year Six all survived, didn’t they? I mean, they didn’t end up turned into toadstools or piglets or
anything.’
There was a short pause.
‘Although we never did find out where all those rhinoceroses came from that were out in the playing field that day,’ Anil pointed out.
Jack suddenly grinned.
‘Hey, it’d be brilliant to be a rhino,’ he said. ‘If I was a rhino I’d charge right through the Co-op spearing doughnuts on my
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