Anita by Keith Roberts

Author:Keith Roberts
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

For the rest of the week the Thompson telly stayed silent. Granny did not deign either to mention it or glance in its direction; even her omnipresent duster passed it by with scarcely a flick. For Anita, it was bliss. She wandered about meeting old friends and making new ones. The nights were full of chattering again; she listened to foxes underground and badgers, the squeaks of mating newts miles off in the dewponds back of Brington Hill. She discovered an entirely new pipistrelle family and there were grass snakes in the copse now and a new boy at Debden’s farm whose thought-patterns were very nice indeed. She could hear everything talking, owls and bats and insects, even the little creatures on the back of the moon. She collected a couple of newspapers and read about the odd technical accidents at a London television studio; the G.P.O. and the Electricity Authority were still investigating them. The police held the disturbance to be the work of practical jokers and were anxious to interview two people who had appeared on a certain quiz program; but if there was a hunt it didn’t reach as far as Anita and her Granny. Things returned almost to normal.

But not quite. A week later Anita sensed the old familiar tingling in the air and rushed home disappointed to find the telly on and her Granny settled in front of it as of old. But she need not have worried; the old lady’s eyes were glittering ominously, her lips were compressed and she was gripping her stick in front of her. Around about were great books of magic, vats of odd liquids seethed and smoked and the cauldron was bubbling furiously with no fire beneath. Anita settled quietly in a corner. She could tell something remarkable was about to happen.

The quiz that had been Granny Thompson’s favourite program was announced. The compere appeared, urbane as ever, smiling and bowing as he introduced a fresh batch of victims. Granny sat stolidly until the questioning was under way. Then she leaned forward. As the quizmaster mouthed his second poser she raised her stick, pointed it at the screen and said slowly and distinctly, “Stuff ...”

Anita watched open-mouthed to see if there would be any effect. Behind her the cauldron splashed and gurgled; she could feel the power gathered in the room. On the screen the gentleman did seem to stiffen a little; then he rallied and carried on. Granny Thompson increased the pressure. Sparks poured from the end of her stick, enveloped the television set with blue fire. On the cottage roof the aerial began to hum with strain. “Stuff” said Granny with even greater firmness.

The compere stopped at that, and stared around him as if dazed. The sparks were hissing and roaring now, nearly blotting out the picture on the tube; something erupted from the thatch overhead, fled squawking. “Orter be took orf” yelled the old lady triumphantly. “You ent wuth wotchin’. Dunt know wot yer at ” The quizmaster appeared to wrestle with an inner compulsion.

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