She leaned forward enthusiastically. “Actually, it’d be easier to show you.” There was a tickling sensation in the front of Stan’s brain. Some...hing akin to fingertips prodding and poking: searching. Something was invading Stan’s personal space. He didn’t know what it was but he knew who it was. Witchcraft. Stan didn’t like it. He’d heard about witches getting into people’s heads and he’d seen witches head-hop just before he cut theirs off. Some called it ‘Headology’. He hadn’t realized that. A week before school closed for the Easter break, I got a phone call from Catherine’s Mum. In a few, terse words she explained to me that she and her husband were getting divorced and they didn’t want Catherine home that holiday. The divorce was going to be an acrimonious affair with plenty of blood on the carpet. Would I look after Catherine for the holiday, she asked, while they sorted things out? She assured me she had spoken to the headmistress who had agreed to this plan. And so it was. More

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