Free The Worst Witch and the Wishing Star by Jill Murphy

else, piano music from Miss Bat perhaps? She is most willing to play any music you like, if that will help.’
    ‘I think I’d rather do our act without it,’ said Mildred, ‘if that’s OK. I’ve never rehearsed with Miss Bat and it might not work if I’m trying to fit the moves to music that I don’t know.’
    Miss Hardbroom sat back on her heels, smoothing the last few feet of unrolled backdrop. ‘What
are
you going to do out there, Mildred?’ she asked searchingly. ‘I must say, this does seem to be a huge gamble, sending the Worst Witch and a completely untested dog out in front of an audience of hundreds, in the vain hope that everything will go right – which is usually the opposite in your case, from what I remember.’
    ‘I’ll do my best, Miss Hardbroom,’ mumbled Mildred, trying to ignore the hurtful dig about being the Worst Witch.
    The music came to a halt with a flourish and once again they heard the audience burst from their seats, clapping and cheering, sounding to Mildred’s ears, as if they must have been the best performers of all.
    Miss Drill noticed the crushed expression on Mildred’s face and dropped a kindly arm round her shoulders. ‘Come on, Mildred,’ she said encouragingly. ‘You know, it’s very brave of you to take this on all by yourself. I’m sure you can do it – you and your little friend here.’
     

     
    The curtains closed and Pentangle’s ballet team streamed through the archways into the dressing room, laughing noisily and trailing their brooms along behind them.
    Miss Hardbroom and Mildred, assisted by Miss Drill (who had to be careful on account of her bad knee), dragged the backdrop through one of the arches and hung it up on the back wall of the stage. It looked very small, like a painting above a fireplace, rather than a piece of scenery.
     

     
    ‘It’s a bit small, isn’t it?’ commented Miss Drill. ‘I think Miss Mould must have got the measurements wrong.’
    The size of the backdrop was the least of Mildred’s worries as she stared around the gigantic stage, her heart banging so loudly she felt sure that everyone must be able to hear it. Star could tell that his adored mistress was anxious, so he shuffled up next to her, wagging the tip of his tail just to let her know that he was there. Mildred smoothed his head with one hand and held the broomstick with the other, wondering if she could possibly back out.
    ‘You can’t back out now, Mildred,’ said Miss Hardbroom, appearing to read her mind. ‘For some unknown reason, Miss Cackle is convinced that you and this creature can make us proud –’
    ‘And I’m sure she
will
, Miss Hardbroom!’ interjected Miss Drill, smiling encouragingly at Mildred, who had turned very pale and looked as though she was going to be sick.
    ‘Come along, Miss Drill,’ said Miss Hardbroom crisply. ‘We’d better be off – time for the dancing duo to show what they’re made of!’
    Miss Drill lagged behind for a moment as Miss Hardbroom strode through the archway into the dressing room. ‘You’ll be fine, Mildred,’ she said soothingly. ‘Just be yourself!’ Then she hurried after Miss Hardbroom, leaving Mildred feeling as tiny as an ant, alone in the centre of the stage.
     

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
     

 
    uddenly Mildred heard the Chief Wizard on the other side of the curtain. ‘And now,’ he was announcing with great enthusiasm, ‘the last entry in the competition: a surprise act from Miss Cackle’s Academy entitled “The Joy of Flying”.’
    Mildred snapped out of her terrified trance and commanded her broomstick to hover. ‘Up you jump, Star,’ she said, remembering Enid’s advice about pretending to be in the forest. ‘We’re going to have some fun.’
    And they did!
    The training sessions had paid off – and Star was thrilled that he was out of trouble, making him even happier than usual to do all the things he loved for the mistress he adored. He leapt from the broom in mid-air, while