Chapter 9

GRUMBLING, MO BADE everyone goodnight in a subdued voice and left the room whilst Jimmy and Glenys tidied round, for, as Glenys said, if they were to leave within a day or so they might as well leave a good impression behind them. She was banking down the fire and brushing out the ash when the kitchen door opened and Mo shot back into the room, then closed the door carefully behind her. Then she turned a pale, frightened face towards the others. ‘When I were passing the witch’s bedroom door I looked at it and it were closing,’ she said in a scared whisper. ‘She’d been listenin’, Auntie Glenys, I’m sure as sure. Oh, what’ll we do?’

Across his sister’s head Jimmy winked at the teacher. ‘Too much talking,’ he murmured. ‘She gets like this when she’s over-excited.’ He turned to his sister. ‘Come on, queen, just think; the old witch shuffles along panting and grumbling. If she’d come downstairs we’d have heard her – and if she’d heard us she’d have come in and told us off; she loves doing that. Now you go off to bed and don’t worry any more. If the old woman hadn’t shut her door properly she might have felt a bit of a draught and got out of bed to close it. Now no more fretting; promise me?’

‘Course I does,’ Mo said sounding relieved. ‘I never thought how she wheezes and mutters when she walks. G’night, Jimmy; Auntie Glenys will tuck me up when she comes to bed.’

Some time later, Mo woke from a strange dream. She had been on the platform of the little station surrounded by her friends and anticipating a trip to the seaside, for in the dream it was high summer and the children were off on a school trip to Prestatyn. She was full of excitement, and was about to climb into a carriage already occupied by some of the other girls when a voice called her name urgently. ‘Mo, Mo! Someone’s on the telephone asking for you!’

The voice had come from knee level, and when she looked down there was Solomon Grundy, Mrs Hughes’s big black cat. Mo promptly squatted and reached out a hand to smooth his velvet fur. ‘I never knew you could talk, Solly,’ she said wonderingly. ‘But if it’s the telephone at Banc-y-Celyn I can’t possibly answer it. If I try, the train will leave without me, and Jimmy and Auntie Glenys are already aboard. So you see . . .’

The big cat blinked its big green eyes and put a demanding paw on Mo’s knee. ‘The train will wait; you can take the call from the public box on the station,’ the cat said. ‘It’s important.’

Mo awoke. The dream had been so real that she had already slid her feet out of the bed when common sense stopped her. How foolish she was to think that a dream was anything but a dream. She was just cuddling down once more, however, when she heard the shuffling footsteps of their landlady heading for the stairs. Mo nudged Glenys, on the other side of the big double bed. The teacher rolled over, clearly still more than half asleep. ‘Whazza time?’ she enquired in a sleep-drugged voice. ‘Has the alarm gone off? Oh, I feel as if I’ve only just got into bed.’