Free The Whitby Witches 1 - The Whitby Witches by Robin Jarvis

disappeared into the Banbury-Scott cavern. 'Most disagreeable child. Mmmmm... didn't I see her outside the post office yesterday?' She paused to give her tongue an airing as it came across a most peculiar taste. 'What did you put in your jam, Tilly darling—catnip?'
    Miss Wethers stared at the closed door unhappily. 'Oh my,' the mouse whined. 'She didn't seem very happy.'
    Aunt Alice wiped her moist eyes. 'No, she didn't, did she?' And the old lady covered her face in shame.

4 - The Aufwader
    Jennet cradled Ben in her arms and held him tightly.
    The boy mumbled under his breath and opened one bleary eye. Jennet had left the door to her room ajar and over her shoulder he could see on to the landing—it was dark and empty.
    'Good,' he breathed with relief, 'they've gone.'
    'Are you all right, Ben?' his sister asked gently. He nodded and wiped his forehead. Jennet looked at him to make sure, then pulled her large blue bag from underneath the bed.
    'Come on,' she said firmly. 'We're leaving. Go and fetch your stuff.'
    Ben stared miserably at her. He had done it again; yet another chance had been ruined by his behaviour. He pouted and rubbed his eyes, for he had liked Whitby. 'Where will we go now?' he asked in a small voice.
    'I don't know and I don't care,' the girl fumed, 'but we're not staying here a minute longer.'
    He ran into his own room and the tears started to fall. Jennet had not told him what she had seen downstairs so he assumed she was angry with him.
    In the parlour Aunt Alice was shooing her guests out. 'Hurry up,' she cried frantically. 'No, leave that, Edith—I'll put it away, thank you.'
    'Adolescent histrionics,' Mrs Joyster remarked dryly as she went into the hall and took her coat off the peg. 'Girls like that are only seeking attention.'
    'Well I'll make sure she receives some, then,' Aunt Alice barked back at her.
    'Wasn't worth leaving Eurydice and her little babies,' grumbled the whiskered Miss Droon. 'Did I tell you she had three of the little beauties?'
    'Achoo!' sneezed Edith Wethers as she squeezed by.
    Miss Boston shepherded them out of the front door, ignoring the protests and grumbles. She was the undisputed leader of the ladies' circle and her authority was absolute. Mrs Banbury-Scott was not at all pleased though, as, scone in hand, she trundled out of the yard and looked for her Bentley.
    Aunt Alice closed the front door and gazed uneasily up the stairs—this was going to be extremely difficult.
    Jennet emptied the contents of her chest of drawers on to the bed and stuffed her clothes into the bag. Her thoughts were a jumble of confused strands. What was she to do now? Where could she and Ben go? It was all very well to run away if you had somewhere to run to but they had nowhere. The hostel was out of the question; no way would she go back there. The Rodice wouldn't let them, anyway, the mean old crow.
    'May I come in?' Miss Boston stood timidly on the landing with her hands clasped to her chest. She looked like a small child waiting outside the headmaster's office.
    Jennet continued her packing without looking up. 'It's your house,' she muttered in a dull tone.
    Aunt Alice glanced at the large bag which the girl was filling. She clutched at the door frame and asked fretfully, 'But my dear, what are you doing? Are you going somewhere?'
    'You lied to me,' Jennet snorted. 'You let me think you wanted me here. How long would it have been before you involved Ben in your dodgy games?' She threw the last of her clothes in the bag and whirled round to face the old woman. 'I could report you, you know—tell the Sunday papers or something. They'd love this, wouldn't they? Imagine the headlines: "Coven of Geriatric Witches Exposed".'
    Miss Boston stared at the carpet, thoroughly abashed. 'Yes, I suppose I deserve that,' she said meekly. 'What I have done is unforgivable—I'm sorry.'
    'Too late for that now. You frightened Ben half to death.'
    The old lady raised her eyebrows eagerly. 'Really? Why,