Happy Valley 4/8

The next day Jennifer Jane went by herself to the Witches’ Home to admire her new outfit. She first had a word with Abigail but found that Megan’s egg wasn’t expected to hatch for some time.

“You’ll have to keep your cloak and hat clean yourself, said Abigail, “you also have to learn how to polish your bronze badge correctly. One of the other apprentices will show you what to do. Every now and then we hold an inspection of ceremonial robes to make sure that you’ll look as smart as you should, if you have to wear them in public.”

Jennifer Jane was given a piece of paper and directions to the storeroom. The witch in charge took her chit and passed over a tin of polish, some cleaning rags and a good stiff clothes brush.

“It’s not all fun and games being a witch, is it?” she said with a smile.

Jennifer Jane went back to her locker and put everything away tidily. There was no point in cleaning or polishing her brand new possessions, so she went through the Home to the alternate world and booked out her broom for a trip to Arthur’s castle.

She flew slowly and waved proudly to Esmerelda and Dulcibella working at their smoky fire.

Tasmin came out of her cave and waved as she flew overhead. “Congratulations on your first year graduation ceremony. Well done!”

However, she’d forgotten that it was a Saturday. When she arrived at the castle it was swarming with noisy visitors.

Arthur appeared to be doing very well and she didn’t want to get in anybody’s way, so she decided to carry on for another look at the mountain cottage where she and Peter had once been caught and imprisoned by Malcolm’s sister.

It should be safe enough now that she was working in the kitchen at the Witches’ Home.

She wasn’t quite sure of the exact location, so she flew higher and higher until she could see the river which eventually became a tributary of Timber creek. Once spotted, she followed it along, until she arrived at the waterfall where Abigail had found her. The cottage was only a little way further up stream.

Things had changed since she was last there. A field had been cleared in the woods and a man was digging up potatoes.

He was loading them onto a small cart pulled by a horse, which looked very similar to the one ridden by Sir George. She descended slowly and carefully in case the spell that had once cancelled magic locally was still working. However all was well and she landed in a cleared portion of the field and walked across.

“Good morning, I see you’ve taken over the cottage. You’ve got a good crop out of this field.”

“Thank you and good morning to you young lady. I don’t wish to appear rude, but you’re a bit young to be a witch aren’t you?”

“I’m an apprentice from the Gate near Lurgin’s bridge. I was caught and imprisoned in this cottage once by a wicked witch and thought I’d come over for a chat when I saw you working here.”

“Aha, you must be the person who knocked a hole in the wall of that storeroom at the back. I expect that’s how you escaped! If you’re a local then you’ve probably heard of Sir George. I used to be a knight as well but I lost my job when all the dragons started eating coal and nobody wanted them killed any more.”

He paused for a moment before continuing. “You probably know the story; some where round here there’s a mighty witch called Jennifer Jane. She’s nine feet high, kills trolls and tells dragons what to do. Most people seem to like her but she’s a blooming nuisance as far as I’m concerned. It’s because of her that I lost my job. I’ve been wandering about ever since, doing odd jobs and found this place by accident. Poor old George went missing for several months soon after she tamed the dragons. Now he wanders about telling stories he’s invented about the places he says he visited. Load of rubbish if you ask me, I think he’s gone a bit funny in the head!”

Jennifer Jane decided she’d better not to tell the knight her name. The man sounded as if he might be rather upset if he found out who she really was.

“I’ve met Sir George lots of times and heard him tell his stories in the pub at Lurgin’s bridge. Is that horse your old charger? His horse can talk to him you know. Does yours?”

“No, and just as well too if you ask me. George says all his horse does is moan all the time. I’m better off not knowing what he’s thinking.”