Chapter 2

I swear they’ve put some kind of spell on that kettle. There are times you put it on and it only takes a minute to boil; and there are other times when it seems to take all day and half of the next. This was one of those times. When I finally returned to the living room, a quartet of steaming mugs in my hands, they were sitting in an expectant little row on the sofa, Aunty Mags holding something fluffy in her lap. I knew it wasn’t one of the cats, because it was livid purple.

All right, maybe I just hoped it wasn’t one of the cats. Like I said, raised by witches…Witches, I might add, with a wicked sense of humour. I put down the mugs carefully on the side table and stood waiting to be told what was going on. It’s best not to be carrying anything likely to make a mess if dropped, not when my aunties are about to make a pronouncement.

“We’ve decided,” Aunty Mags said. “You’re to have your Christmas presents early.”