Read Online Groosham Grange by Anthony Horowitz - Free Book Online Page A

Mrs Windergast. If Mr Kilgraw was keeping fresh blood in his refrigerator, who knows what he might find in her medicine cupboard? His hand was hurting him badly. But any pain was preferable to another session with the staff of Groosham Grange.
    He was therefore annoyed to find the matron waiting for him outside her surgery. There must have been some sort of internal telephone system in the school because she already knew what had happened to him.
    “Let me have a look at your poor little hand,” she trilled. “Come inside and sit down while I get a plaster. We don’t want it going septic, do we? My husband went septic – God rest his soul. All of him! It was a horrible sight at the end, I can tell you. And it only began with the teeniest scratch…” She ushered David into the surgery even as she spoke, giving him no chance to argue. “Now you sit down,” she commanded, “while I open my medicine box.”
    David sat down. The surgery was small and cosy with a gas fire, a colourful rug and home-made cushions on the chairs. Embroideries hung on the wall and there were comics scattered on a low coffee table. David took all this in while the matron busied herself at the far end, rummaging in a mirror-fronted cabinet. As she opened it, David caught the reflection of a bird on a perch. For a moment he thought he had imagined it, but then he turned round and saw the real thing, next to the window. The bird was a black crow. At first David assumed it to be stuffed, like the animals in the library. But then it croaked and shook its wings. David shivered, remembering the crow he had seen in his garden the day he had left home.
    “That’s Wilfred,” Mrs Windergast explained as she sat down next to him. “Some people have goldfish. Some people have hamsters. But I’ve always preferred crows. My husband never liked him very much. In fact it was Wilfred who scratched him. Sometimes he can be very naughty! Now – let’s have a look at that hand.”
    David held out his burnt hand and for the next few minutes Mrs Windergast busied herself with antiseptic creams and plasters. “There!” she exclaimed when she had finished. “That’s better!”
    David made to stand up, but the matron motioned at him to stay where he was.
    “And tell me, my dear,” she said. “How are you finding Groosham Grange?”
    David was tired. He was fed up playing games. So he told her the truth. “All the kids are weird,” he said. “The staff are crazy. The island is horrible. And the school is like something out of a horror film and I wish I was back at home.”
    Mrs Windergast beamed at him. “But otherwise you’re perfectly happy?” she asked.
    “Mrs Windergast—”
    The matron held up her hand, stopping him. “Of course I understand, my dear,” she said. “It’s always difficult at first. That’s why I’ve decided to let you have a bit of my special ointment.”
    “What does it do?” David asked suspiciously.
    “It just helps you get a good night’s sleep.” She had produced a tub of ointment out of her apron pocket, and before David could stop her she unscrewed the lid and held it out to him. The ointment was thick and charcoal grey but surprisingly it smelt rather pleasant. It was a bitter smell, some sort of wild herb. But even the scent of it somehow relaxed him and made him feel warm inside. “Just rub it into your forehead,” Mrs Windergast coaxed him, and now her voice was soft and far away. “It’ll do wonders for you, just you wait and see.”
    David did as he was told. He couldn’t refuse. He didn’t
want
to refuse. The ointment felt warm against his skin. And the moment it was on, it seemed to sink through, spreading into the flesh and all the way through to his bones.
    “Now you just pop into bed, David.” Was it still Mrs Windergast talking? He could have sworn it was a different voice. “And have lots of lovely dreams.”
    David did dream that night.
    He remembered undressing and getting into bed and