Witch's Business Read Online Free PDF Page B

“We saw her, and she said she wouldn’t take it off you. That’s as far as we’ve got.”
    Frankie leaned forward, with her eyes bigger than ever. “Then go on and do something awful to her. Now you know.”
    â€œAt least you didn’t let her deceive you,” said Jenny. “Lots of people won’t believe she’s a witch, but that’s just because she looks jolly and they think she’s joking.”
    â€œBut she isn’t joking,” said Frankie. “She’s wicked. Really.”
    Somehow, now they had talked to Biddy, Jess and Frank found this easier to believe. Jess still knew, somewhere in the back of her head, that Biddy must simply be mad, but she did not know it strongly enough to say so. All she said was “Yes, I know. She said she’s got it in for your family.”
    Both little girls nodded. “Yes, she has,” Frankie said. “So now do something.”
    â€œAll right,” said Frank, “but”—he hesitated, and then said, in a rush, in a rather official-sounding voice, because he felt so mean—“but we’ve got to do it on conditions, because we can’t take your sovereign.”
    The little girls stared. “Why not?” said Jenny. “It’s worth much more than a pound.”
    Jess saw the point. She shook her head firmly. “It’s not legal tender,” she said. She was not quite sure what that meant, but she was sure it was the right phrase, and it sounded beautifully official. Frankie and Jenny were impressed by it and stared mournfully at her.
    â€œSo we’ll do something to Biddy,” Frank went on pompously, although he was out in goose pimples again at the mere idea, “if you promise us to stop calling names after—what’s his name, Jess?”
    â€œMartin Taylor,” said Jess.
    â€œWho?” said Jenny.
    â€œGinger,” said Frank. “Up at the big house. You know.”
    â€œOh, him!” Frankie stuck her head up.
    Jenny leaned forward indignantly and nearly overbalanced from the windowsill. “We hate him. He’s horrible. He lives in our house. It should be our house, but he lives there just because we haven’t got any money anymore.”
    â€œWe’re going to drive him out,” said Frankie.
    â€œDon’t be silly,” said Jess. “You can’t drive him out, because it’s his parents, not him, the house belongs to. He can’t help living there. It’s not fair to go calling him names. He isn’t allowed to hit girls.”
    Jenny grinned. She looked like a wicked elf thing, all curled up on the windowsill. “We know he can’t,” she said.
    â€œHe calls us names, too,” said Frankie. “And we’re not going to stop. So there.”
    Jess immediately marched away to the damp door. “All right. Then we’re not going to do anything to Biddy. We wouldn’t touch her with a barge pole. So there.”
    There was a painful silence. Jess opened the door and tried to go through it slowly, without looking as if she was waiting. Frank loitered after her. Still neither of the little girls said anything. Frank and Jess had gone most of the length of the stone passage before there was any sound at all. Then, suddenly, behind them, they heard rapid footsteps—light, heavy, light, heavy. Jenny, down from the windowsill, was following them as hard as she could go.
    She ran up to Jess, seized her hand, and smiled up at her. When she smiled, Jess thought, Jenny looked almost as sweet as Vernon’s littlest sister. “Please,” Jenny said. “Please, Jessica Pirie, do something to Biddy and I’ll promise anything.” Then her face became all stiff and famine seeming. “Make her die, so that my foot can be better again.” Great huge tears came streaming down her cheeks.
    Frankie came up without a word, put her arm round Jenny, and led her back to the