Rather than magicking myself directly to CASS, I decided to call in at Cuppy C first. Pearl and Mindy were behind the tea room counter.
Just before they’d left to have their babies, the twins had taken on Mindy as a fulltime assistant. Although Mindy had once been persona non-grata, it was now generally accepted that she’d been acting under the influence of Miles Best, her very much ex-boyfriend. Since dumping that loser, Mindy had been an all-round much nicer person. Plus, she had the experience of working in a cake shop and tea room, which she’d gained working in Best Cakes.
“Blueberry muffin, Jill?” Mindy greeted me with a smile.
“I’ll just take a caramel latte, please.”
“Aren’t you feeling well?” Pearl quipped.
“I’m on my way to CASS in a few minutes. They always have a good supply of biscuits and cakes in the staff room, and they’re all free.”
“Cheapskate.” Pearl laughed. “How come you’ve dropped in here for coffee if that’s free over there too?”
“To see you, of course.”
“And the real reason?”
“The coffee over at CASS is pretty ropey.”
“There you are.” Mindy handed me the coffee, and then went to serve the next customer.
“Let’s have a quick chinwag.” Pearl gestured to the table nearest to the counter. “I can nip back if we get busy.”
“How’s Lil?” I said.
“Beautiful as always. I don’t like to say anything in case I upset Amber, but my Lil is so much prettier than her Lil, don’t you think?”
“I—err—they’re both beautiful.”
“It’s okay, Jill, I realise you have to say that. It’s true, though, my Lil is so much more attractive.”
“How’s being here part-time working out?”
“Okay. It’s nice to get out of the house, and I enjoy chatting to the customers, but I miss Lil something awful.”
“It’s only a few hours, a couple of days a week, though. And you know she’ll be okay with Aunt Lucy.”
“Yeah, Mum’s great with her, but then Lil is so well behaved—you barely hear a peep out of her. I feel sorry for Mum having to look after Amber’s Lil, though. She cries all the time.”
“How is Mindy doing?”
“Great. Amber and I had our reservations at first, but she’s proven to be worth her weight in gold. Don’t say anything to her, but we’re thinking of making her the manager. She’s practically acting as one already, particularly on the days when we’re not here.” Pearl glanced across at the counter where a queue was starting to form. “I’d better get back to work. Have a good day at CASS.”
***
I was the only one able to magic myself back and forth between Candlefield and CASS. Everyone else was forced to travel on the airship. That’s why I always made a point of magicking myself to the same quiet corner of the west wing where no one would see me arrive. That way, I didn’t rub everyone’s nose in it.
The staffroom was two floors below my landing spot, and always my first port of call before going to my class.
“Morning, Jill,” Reginald Crowe was seated in his favourite chair, right by the door.
“Morning, Reggie. That looks nice.” I gestured to the half-eaten muffin on his plate.
“It’s delicious. Highly recommended.”
Reggie was the school’s caretaker and general handyman. I’d originally met him on the airship on my first ever visit to CASS. On that occasion, he’d helped to calm my nerves about the flight, and since then, he’d become a firm friend. It had to be said, though, that he seemed to spend more time in the staff room than he did working.
As always, there was a fabulous spread of scrumptious cakes. I had no idea who paid for them, but they were all free to the staff, and that was good enough for me. I didn’t get paid for teaching at CASS, so I considered the cakes to be payment-in-kind.
“Morning, Jill.”
“Morning, Mrs Eastwest.”
“I do wish you’d call me Phil.”
I just couldn’t bring myself to call Philomena Eastwest anything other than Mrs Eastwest. It would have been like calling Mrs V, Annabel. Mrs Eastwest was a thousand years old, or at least she looked it. Even so, she seemed to have boundless energy. When I’d first met her, I’d assumed she taught English, History or something similar. It turned out she was the P.E. teacher. In her youth, she’d apparently been a top track and field athlete. Today, her frail body meant she wasn’t able to participate in physical activities, but that didn’t stop her barking out orders to the kids. Her body might be failing her, but her mind was laser sharp. I’d sat in on one of her P.E. sessions, and she hadn’t missed a thing. When any of the kids slacked off, Mrs Eastwest was quickly on their case.
“Aren’t you having a bun, Mrs Eastwest?”
“Certainly not. It’s strictly fruit for me between meals.”
“Me too.”
She looked at the muffin I’d just put onto my plate.
“It’s blueberry,” I offered in my defence.
“How are you enjoying working at CASS? It must be rather boring compared to your main job?”
“I enjoy it. The kids keep me on my toes.”
“I bet. Which class are you taking today?”
“Some of the first-years. Class one-alpha.”
“The first-years are the best. At that age, they’re still nervous, and respectful of the staff, but that doesn’t last long. Just be sure to watch out for Fleabert Junior.”
“I don’t recall anyone by that name.”
“He was here for the start of term, but then got called home for some reason. Apparently, it related to some incident in the human world. I don’t know the details, but I believe the rogue retrievers were involved.”
“Surely, it couldn’t have been anything he did, could it? He’s only what, thirteen?”
“You may change your mind when you meet him. I taught his father, Fleabert Senior. The man was, and still is, a colossal pain in the bum.”
“Right, thanks for the heads-up.”
“I must be making tracks.” She put down her cup. “I need to do an inventory of the skipping ropes before next week’s inter-house sports competition. I assume you’ll be attending?”
“I’d love to but I’m going to be rather busy on that day.”
“What could possibly be more important than the inter-house sports competition?”
“I get married the next day.”
“Really? Congratulations. I suppose I’m the last to hear; I usually am. I guess that does take priority over our little competition.” She smiled.
I finished off the muffin and was considering helping myself to a second one when someone grabbed me by the arm.
“Have you heard the rumour, Jill?” It was Natasha Fastjersey, the head librarian.
“What’s that?”
“You didn’t hear this from me, but the word is that the headmistress intends to retire.”
“Are you sure? She hasn’t been here very long.”
“Health reasons. That’s what I heard.”
“She seemed perfectly fine when I was here last.”
“She still does, but one can never tell, can one? Anyway, not a word to anyone.”
“Of course not.”
Could the headmistress really be planning to retire? I certainly hoped not—Desdemona Nightowl represented everything that was good about CASS. I for one would be sorry to see her go. Maybe, Natasha had got it wrong—it wouldn’t be the first time. She’d once told me that she’d heard the airships were being replaced by giant catapults, which would be used to propel people between CASS and Candlefield. She’d failed to realise what the date was. Some of the pupils had fed her that information via the CASS newsletter which just happened to be dated 1st April.
***
Even though I’d been teaching for several months, my nerves still began to jangle every time I stepped into the classroom. I would rather have faced down a hardened criminal in my ‘real’ job than face a classroom full of kids, even though for the most part they were well behaved.
Although the kids didn’t refer to me as ‘Teacher’, they were required to call me Miss Gooder. I’d told the headmistress that I’d prefer they called me Jill, but she insisted that would set an unacceptable precedent. I wouldn’t be Miss Gooder for much longer, though. Jack and I had had several long conversations on the subject of my name. He’d suggested I might want to keep ‘Gooder’ after we were married—if for no other reason than for the business. I’d given it careful consideration, but in the end, I’d decided that I would take his name. That meant I’d be Jill Gooder for only a few more days, and then I’d become Jill Maxwell. It would take some getting used to, and I’d have to buy a new sign for the office, but on balance I thought it was the right decision.
“Morning, Miss Gooder,” the kids all chorused when I entered the classroom.
“Morning, class one-alpha. Please take your seats.”
As I glanced around, I spotted a new face seated in the back row, close to the window. I assumed it must be Fleabert Junior. To look at him, it seemed like butter wouldn’t melt, but I knew I had better heed Mrs Eastwest’s words of warning.
“Right, everyone, I thought today we could talk about the internet. Have any of you heard of that?”
A few hands went up. One of them belonged to Fleabert Junior.
I pointed to him. “I haven’t seen you in my class before. What’s your name?”
“Randall Fleabert Junior, Miss. I had to return home for a few weeks.”
“Why is that?”
“I had to appear in youth court back in the human world because I’d got into a spot of bother.”
“What happened?”
“It was my parents’ fault. They were the ones who wanted to drag me to this dump. I didn’t want to come, so I lost my temper, and broke a few things.”
“What kind of things?”
“The windows of the police station.”
“What good did you think that would do?”
“I thought if I could get arrested, my parents wouldn’t be able to send me to CASS, and that I’d be able to stay in the human world.”
“I take it that things didn’t work out as you’d planned.”
“They let me off with a fine and a slapped wrist.”
“Well you’re here now, so what can you tell us about the internet?”
“It’s brilliant. There’s all sorts on there: Snapchat, Facebook, Instagram, everything. I used to spend all day online. I hate it here—it’s so boring without it.”
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea to spend all day online, but if any of you are considering visiting the human world, or even working there eventually, it’s as well you’re aware of the internet because it plays a major part in many aspects of human life.”
“I’d got sixty followers on Twitter!” Fleabert blurted out.
“That’s very nice, but there are much more important uses for the internet, and I intend to discuss some of those today.”
My first few lessons had been a bit of a disaster because I’d tried to run them by the seat of my pants. I’d soon realised that I needed to prepare notes ahead of the lesson. Nothing too detailed—just a basic structure. Quite often, the conversations would drift away from the plan, but that was okay.
The kids generally seemed excited about the internet, particularly those who had yet to visit the human world.
“Ouch!” Lucinda Blade touched her ear.
“What’s wrong, Lucinda?”
“Something hurt me, Miss.”
“Have you been stung?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Are you alright?”
“Yes, Miss.”
“Okay, let’s carry on.”
Five minutes later, Ruby Noonday called out in pain. “Miss! Something pinched my arm.”
“Are you okay?”
“I think so.”
Something weird was going on. I was fairly certain that it wasn’t a wasp or a bee because the girls had been able to shrug it off so easily. Everyone in the room looked nervous, in case it was their turn to be ‘stung’ next. Everyone that is except for Fleabert Junior. He was grinning from ear to ear.
As the class discussion continued, I kept one eye on Fleabert. Five minutes later, I noticed something: Although he was doing his best to hide it, he was casting an unusual combination of spells. It took me a few seconds, but I was able to decode them just in time. As soon as I had, I quickly reversed both of his spells.
“Ouch!” Sally Topps screamed.
“Mr Fleabert!” I shouted. “What are you doing?”
Everyone was staring at Fleabert who was standing next to Sally Topps’ desk.
“I—err—how?” he spluttered.
“You’re obviously a talented wizard, Mr Fleabert. It’s just a pity that you don’t put your magic to better use.”
“How did you know?”
“That you’d used the ‘copy’ spell to leave an image of yourself in the chair, and then the ‘invisible’ spell that allowed you to move around the room undetected? It wasn’t difficult.”
“No one else has ever worked it out.”
“This is Jill Gooder, Dumbo,” Sally Topps said. “She’s the most powerful witch in Candlefield.” She turned to me. “Sorry for calling you by your first name, Miss.”
“That’s alright, Sally. Now, Mr Fleabert, I think an hour’s detention after school would be in order, don’t you?”
“But, Miss, it’s sports practice.”
“Not for you, I’m afraid. You can write me an essay on the dangers of social media.”
“But, Miss, I don’t know anything about social media.”
“Didn’t you say how much you like Snapchat, Facebook and Instagram? And then there’s your sixty followers on Twitter. It seems to me that you’re very well acquainted with social media. Now, get back to your seat.”
Ten minutes from the end of the lesson, I threw open the floor for questions.
Destiny Braden’s hand flew up first.
“Yes, Destiny?”
“Is it true you’re getting married the weekend after next, Miss?”
“I’m not sure that comes under the heading of human studies.”
“But, Miss, aren’t you going to marry a human?”
“Actually, you’re right on both counts. I’m getting married a week on Saturday to Jack who is a human.”
“Isn’t it kind of weird living with a human?” Johnny Linkfur shouted.
“Not at all. Humans aren’t very different from us. In fact, for those of you who don’t already know, I was raised in a family of humans, and thought I was human until just a few years ago.”
“Miss!” Charlie Hedges raised his hand.
“Yes, Charlie.”
“Who do you want to win the inter-house sports competition?”
“That definitely doesn’t come under the heading of human studies.”
“Come on, Miss. Who will you be shouting for?”
“The competition is actually on the day before I get married, so I won’t be able to make it. I’ll have enough on my plate that day, so I can’t afford any distractions. I wish all the teams the best of luck.”
“Wrongacre will win easily, Miss!”
“Rubbish. Nomad are unbeatable.”
“Longstaff forever!”
“Capstan’s name is already on the cup!”
I was surprised at just how enthusiastic all the kids seemed to be about the upcoming sports competition. When I’d been at school, I’d done everything I could to avoid taking part in sports day. Needless to say, Kathy had been star of both track and field. And of course, she’d taken every opportunity to rub my nose in it.
“Okay, kids. That’s it for today. See you next time. Mr Fleabert, make sure you drop the essay into the staff room this evening after detention. I’ll tell Mrs Eastwest to expect it.”
The kids all filed out of the classroom; Beth Nightling was the last to leave.
“Miss, can I have a word, please?”
“Of course. What is it?”
“I’ve lost my gold ring.”
“When did it go missing?”
“Last night. I always put it on my bedside cabinet, but it wasn’t there when I woke up this morning.”
“Could you have knocked it onto the floor by mistake?”
“I don’t think so, but I didn’t really have time to check.”
“It’s lunchtime now, so why don’t you nip back to your dormitory, and take a good look around. I’ll check in the staff room to see if it’s been handed in.”
“Thanks, Miss.”
“Beth, wait. Which dorm are you in?”
“Nomad, Miss.”
“Okay. I’ll catch up with you there in a few minutes.”