“I’d be more than happy to show you, Headmistress, but I’m afraid the spell only seems to work for me.”
“How very disappointing. Do have a seat. Can I get you a drink?”
“No, thanks. I’m afraid I can’t stay long.”
“I do hope you’ve come to tell me that you’d like to resume your teaching duties.”
“I’m afraid not. At least not at the moment. My daughter, Florence, has only just started school. Maybe when she’s a little older.”
“How old is she? Five?”
“That’s right.”
“Such a lovely age.”
“I want to make sure she’s settled before I take on any more commitments. I hope you understand?”
“Of course, but please bear us in mind when circumstances allow, won’t you?”
“Definitely. I really enjoyed my time here with the kids.”
“It won’t be too long until your daughter joins us here at CASS. It’s surprising how fast the years fly by.”
“Surely that will depend on whether or not she receives an invitation.”
“I shouldn’t really say this, but I think that’s pretty much a formality. Anyway, what can I do for you today?”
“I’m here concerning Florence. You may not be aware, but my husband Jack is a human.”
“I had no idea. That must make life very difficult. Does Florence know she’s a witch?”
“Of course. I’ve never tried to hide that from her.”
“Aren’t you worried she might say something to your husband?”
“No. She knows it’s our little secret. My problem is that I’m unsure how much magic I should teach her at this age. I had planned to keep it to a minimum until she was older, but my grandmother, Mirabel Millbright—”
“Mirabel? She’s your grandmother?”
“That’s right.”
“I should have realised. Sorry to interrupt. You were saying?”
“I’d intended to wait until Florence was older before teaching her any more spells, but my grandmother is firmly of the opinion that I should be doing it now. That’s why I’m here today. I’m hoping that I might be able to speak to pupils who are in a similar position—who have one parent who is a human and one who is a sup.”
“That could be difficult.”
“Oh? I assumed you’d have a few pupils who fell into that category.”
“We don’t, and there’s a very good reason for that. The human parent would naturally expect to be able to look around the boarding school that their child is about to attend, but that’s impossible.”
“What a mess.”
“As it happens, we do have one child from the human world with us at the moment. Maxine Pearldiver’s mother is a witch and her father is a human.”
“How did they manage to get around the issue you’ve just highlighted?”
“Her parents split up shortly after Maxine was born, leaving her mother to raise her alone. Her father simply disappeared and has played no part in her upbringing, so the decision to send Maxine to CASS was her mother’s alone.”
“I see. Would it be possible for me to speak to Maxine?”
“I’m sorry, Jill, but I can’t allow you to do that without first getting permission from her mother. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course. In that case, would you be able to let me have her mother’s contact details?”
“Unfortunately, I can’t do that either—data protection and all that stuff. What I can do, though, is contact Maxine’s mother on your behalf. I’ll explain the situation and see if she’s willing to talk to you. If she is, I’ll ask her to get in touch with you directly. Is that okay?”
“That would be great. I hope she agrees but I’ll understand if she’d rather not. I really do appreciate your time and help, Headmistress.”
“My pleasure. And I hope to see you teaching here again soon.”
***
I magicked myself back to the office.
“Good morning, Mrs V, how are you?”
“Fine, thanks.” She sighed.
“Are you sure? You don’t sound it.”
“It’s just those pesky squirrels.”
“Are they still causing you problems?”
“It’s getting worse. It’s got to the point where Armi and I daren’t go into the back garden because every time we do, we get pelted with acorns.”
“Oh dear.” Somehow, I managed not to laugh. “What are you going to do about it?”
“I’ve no idea. I called the pest control people, but they said that squirrels aren’t considered to be pests. Those in my back garden certainly are.”
There was something about this situation that just didn’t ring true. Squirrels were normally such harmless, timid creatures. Could they really be behind the acorn attacks? Or was something more sinister afoot? Was it possible that the wood nymphs had returned?
In my office, Winky was talking to two cats who were seated on the sofa.
“Ah, she’s here now. Jill, could you let us have some salmon, please. Red, obviously.”
The cheek of that cat. He thought he could invite whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and that I’d just feed them. Well, enough was enough.
“Could I have a word, Winky?” I beckoned him over to the opposite side of the room, and then said in a whisper, “You can’t just invite your friends in here and expect me to feed them. It’s not on. Tell them they have to leave.”
“They aren’t my friends.”
“That makes it even worse. You can’t invite strangers in for a free meal.”
“They’re cops. They’re working undercover.”
“Pull the other one. I’m not stupid.”
He turned to the two cats. “Would you mind introducing yourselves to Jill?”
“We really shouldn’t,” the male cat said. “This is an undercover operation as we explained to you.”
“This is Jill’s office. She won’t say anything, will you?”
“I—err—. No, of course not.”
“Okay.” The cat flipped open a wallet and flashed a badge at me. “Agent Ricardo, CI5.”
“CI5?”
“Officer Lulu.” The female cat showed me an identical badge.
“What’s this all about?”
“We’re running surveillance on the building opposite.” She gestured
