Not Just a Witch

Chapter Ten

Dora was sitting on an upturned chamberpot in the back of a swaying furniture lorry. Round her were all the things she had brought from Kidchester: her bed, her kitchen table and chairs, her work bench and her tools.

She had decided to move to the outskirts of Wellbridge, where a nice garden statue business had come up for sale, and she was doing it in secret. She hadn’t said a word to Heckie or to anyone she knew. After all, it might be that Heckie was going to be cross with her for ever. On the other hand, if they lived in the same city, even at opposite ends of it, they just could meet by accident and then…

The lorry lurched round the corner and Dora clutched the metal jam pan which contained her hat. The hat wasn’t well at all — the overfeeding had caused the snakes to start shedding their skins. If she wore it now, people would think she had the most awful dandruff.

‘Should I put it on a diet?’ wondered poor Dora as the lorry ground up the hill past Wellbridge prison. But what sort of a diet was best for hats? It was Heckie who knew about animals. ‘Come to that, I ought to go on a diet myself.’

It was true that Dora, who had never been thin, was now definitely overweight. People who are lonely often eat too much and Dora had really been stuffing herself. Muscles, of course, are important for stonework, but fat is another thing.

Nothing had gone well for the stone witch in Kidchester. She’d managed to do some good all right: Dr Franklin, the one who’d done the awful experiments on dogs, really did look very nice by the fountain in the middle of the shopping centre, and she’d found a comfortable spot for a swindler who’d gone off with the life savings of a lot of poor people. He stood between two pillars in front of the Pensions Office, where the starlings were enjoying him. But Kidchester wasn’t pretty like Wellbridge…

No, I’m lying, thought Dora. It’s because I miss Heckie that I’m moving. It’s because I miss my friend.

They bumped over some old tram lines and from the wardrobe, pushed against one wall, there came a worried bleat.

‘Don’t chop down the wardrobe,’ begged the ghost. ‘Don’t chop—’

‘I’m not going to chop it down!’ said Dora, for the hundredth time. ‘It’s trees they chop down and you’re not in a tree!’

They had passed the prison and the football ground. Not much further to go…

Well, I’ve done it now, thought Dora. And even if I don’t meet Heckie, I can still do some good here. There must be lots of wicked people left in Wellbridge even after Heckie’s finished with the place. But oh, if only I met her. If only we became friends again!

The lorry stopped at the lights. Just a few metres away, facing in the other direction, was a blue van with sealed windows. Inside it sat Heckie, holding the Wellington boot with the fish in it.

Oh, if only Dora was here, she was thinking just at that moment. If only I had her to help me instead of these useless moaners.

Then the lights changed. The vans moved forward — and neither of the witches knew how close to each other they had been.