Morgan Charmley by Katy Birchall

Author:Katy Birchall
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic UK
Published: 1989-06-14T16:00:00+00:00

“Are you sure you want me to pull up here?” Mum asks, looking confused. “I can drop you much closer to the school if you like.”

“This is good.” I nod, undoing my seatbelt. “I just want a little walk up to the school. You know, get my head in the right space.”

Her phone rings and she sighs as she sees it’s her assistant. She presses mute.

“That’s the third call this morning, and it’s not even eight thirty. I am not looking forward to this Monday. Anyway, Morgan, you’re not going to run away and skip school, are you? Because I would much rather you were honest with me than pretend to walk up to school and wait for me to drive off before you—”

“Mum.” I hold up my hands. “I swear I’m not going to skip school. I just want a little preparation time, rather than going straight in there. OK?”

She nods. “OK.”

Her phone rings again and she lifts her eyes to the ceiling.

“You should answer that and get going to work.” I lean across so she can give me a kiss on the cheek and then I get out of the car, shutting the door behind me. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Have a good day. Good luck,” she says, before answering the call and pulling away down the road.

I wait until her car has turned the corner, then dash across the road and into an old red telephone box. The windows are cloudy, like they haven’t been cleaned in a while, making it difficult to see in or out.

“OK,” Merlin says, in tarantula form on my shoulder. “Let’s start with the witch backpack.”

I get my phone out and bring up a recent search I did on some new designer bags, clicking on my favourite one – a bag that I saw Iris showing her friends on her phone a couple of weeks ago, saying how much she wanted it.

“Very nice,” Merlin says, nodding in approval. “What colour are you going to get it in?”

“Black!” I laugh. “Duh, I’m a witch.”

I focus on the bag onscreen before clicking my fingers. My backpack transforms into the coolest black bag I have ever seen.

“I love it,” I squeal, clutching it to me. “SO much better than the backpack. Wait until Iris sees this!”

“OK, now what about your shoes?”

“What about my shoes?”

Merlin scuttles forward to point one of his many legs accusingly at my feet. “Those shoes are bringing you down. Do you think a witch should be wearing those clunky, ugly clog-wannabes? Do you?”

“I have to stay within the uniform guidelines.”

“Which are?”

“Something like ‘sensible black shoes’.”

“Do you know what are, technically, sensible black shoes?” Merlin says in a mischievous voice. “Doc Martens. They would suit you and look good. Go on, try them and see how it looks.”

I focus, click my fingers and look down at my feet to see a brand-new pair of Doc Martens. This is FUN. With Merlin’s guidance, I add some wayfarers to my look, along with a delicate gold bracelet with blue stones that matches the pendant Mum gave me.

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