Free The Courage of Cat Campbell by Natasha Lowe Page B

leave!” Poppy said. “Now, can you please sit still, Cat, because you’re making me dizzy.”
    This was an impossible task, and Cat danced about until Marie Claire said, “All right, Cat. Let’s go. I’m a slow walker. It will take us a while to get there.”
    â€œYou look very smart,” Poppy said, straightening her daughter’s collar.
    â€œI’ve got purple and gold socks on.” Cat stuck out a leg. “Ruthersfield colors! Oh, I do hope they know how much I want to go.”
    â€œThat will come across, I promise!” Poppy reassured her.
    â€œI wish Dad was here for my interview. Don’t you miss him too?”
    â€œEvery single day. But I keep reminding myself how happy he is. And I knew when I married him he’d be gone a lot.”
    â€œThen I wish you could take me to Ruthersfield,” Cat said. “It seems so unfair. They won’t let you bring your own daughter along to an interview.”
    Poppy turned away. She opened the fridge and closed it without removing anything. “I did ask, Cat, but Ms. Roach was firm. They have very strict rules for witches at the academy, and when I was expelled it was made quite clear to me that I’m not to step foot on Ruthersfield property ever again.”
    â€œBut that was twenty-five years ago, Mamma.”
    â€œTwenty-seven,” Poppy said. “But those are the rules, and we have to accept them.”
    â€œWell, I say it’s stupid,” Cat muttered.
    â€œYes, but I get the great pleasure of taking you,” Marie Claire chimed in, slipping on her coat. Her fingers were often stiff in the mornings, and she struggled to do up her buttons. “I am looking forward to seeing inside the academy,” she added, glancing over at Poppy. “It has always intrigued me, wanting to know what goes on in there.”
    â€œMe too,” Cat agreed. She hugged her mother goodbye. “Wish me luck, Mamma.”
    â€œLuck,” Poppy said, kissing the tip of her daughter’s nose. “Just remember, Cat, Ruthersfield is intensely competitive. Don’t be sad if this doesn’t work out.”
    â€œAnd don’t be sad if it does,” Cat said.

    Ruthersfield Academy was an imposing stone building that had always reminded Cat of a castle. She walked slowly up the wide stone steps, matching her pace to Marie Claire’s. A rope bellpull dangled outside the front door, and Cat tugged on it, her stomach fluttering with nerves. After a few moments the double doors opened and a witch in a long purple cloak with gold braided trim stood there, her frizzy gray hair puffing out around her head like a mushroom cap. There was a rather awkward silence as the woman studied them.
    â€œHello,” Cat said at last. “I’m Cat, I mean Catherine, Catherine Campbell.” She stuck out her hand, wishing it wasn’t so damp. “I’ve come for an interview.”
    â€œWe are expected,” Marie Claire added in her soft French accent.
    â€œAhhh.” The woman held up a pair of glasses that were hanging on a chain around her neck and peered at Cat through them. “So you are Catherine Campbell.” From the way she said this, Cat got the feeling that being Catherine Campbell wasn’t exactly a positive thing.
    â€œI am.” Cat stood up straight. “And I’m really excited to be here. I’m a Late Bloomer.”
    â€œWell, you’d better come in,” the woman said. “I’m Ms. Weedle, the spells and charms teacher here at Ruthersfield.” She stared at Cat a few seconds longer before finally stepping aside. “Follow me, please. I’ll take you straight to Ms. Roach. And do not open any doors or wander off. Stay right behind me.”
    Cat helped Marie Claire hobble inside. “It’s so grand,” Marie Claire murmured, looking around the entry hall.
    â€œLook.” Cat pointed to a crest hanging on the wall