"Jones, Diana Wynne - Chrestomanci 3 - 1982 - Witch Week" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jones Diana Wynne)

"Thanks," she said. "You're a love." She smiled at him while she put her hair
right in the hall mirror, and after she had done something to her skirt that may
have been witchcraft to make it seem untorn again, she bent down and kissed
Charles. "If I get away, I'll bring you luck," she said. Then she put her smart
shoes on again and went away down the front garden, trying hard not to limp. At
the front gate, she waved and smiled at Charles.
That was the end of the part Charles liked. That was why he wrote but not for
long next. He never saw the witch again, or heard what had happened to her. He
ordered his little brother never to say a word about herЧand Graham obeyed,
because he always did everything Charles saidЧ and then he watched and waited
for any sign of the witch or any sign of luck. None came. It was next to
impossible for Charles to find out what might have happened to the witch,
because there had been new laws since he glimpsed the first witch burning. There
were no more public burnings. The bonfires were lit inside the walls of jails
instead, and the radio would simply announce: "Two witches were burned this
morning inside Holloway Jail." Every time Charles heard this kind of
announcement he thought it was his witch. It gave him a blunt, hurtful feeling
inside. He thought of the way she had kissed him, and he was fairly sure it made
you wicked too, to be kissed by a witch. He gave up expecting to be lucky. In
fact, to judge from the amount of bad luck he had had, he thought the witch must
have been caught almost straightaway. For the blunt, hurtful feeling he had when
the radio announced a burning made him refuse to do anything his parents told
him to do. He just gave them his steady stare instead. And each time he stared,
he knew they thought he was being nasty. They did not understand it the way the
witch did. And, since Graham imitated everything Charles did, Charles's parents
very soon decided Charles was a problem child and leading Graham astray. They
arranged for him to be sent to Larwood House, because it was quite near.
When Charles wrote games, he meant bad luck. Like everyone else in 6B, he had
seen Mr. Crossley had found a note. He did not know what was in the note, but
when he looked up and caught Mr. Crossley's eye, he knew it meant bad luck
coming.
Mr. Crossley still could not decide what to do about the note. If what it said
was true, that meant inquisitors coming to the school. And that was a thoroughly
frightening thought. Mr. Crossley sighed and put the note in his pocket. "Right,
everyone," he said. "Put away your journals and get into line for music."
As soon as 6B had shuffled away to the school hall, Mr. Crossley sped to the
staff room, hoping to find someone he could consult about the note.
He was lucky enough to find Miss Hodge there. As Theresa Mullett and Estelle
Green had observed, Mr. Crossley was in love with Miss Hodge. But of course he
never let it show. Probably the one person in the school who did not seem to
know was Miss Hodge herself. Miss Hodge was a small neat person who wore neat
gray skirts and blouses and her hair was even neater and smoother than Theresa
Mullett's. She was busy making neat stacks of books on the staff room table, and
she went on making them all the time Mr. Crossley was telling her excitedly
about the note. She spared the note one glance.
"No, I can't tell who wrote it either," she said.
"But what shall I do about it?" Mr. Crossley pleaded. "Even if it's true, it's
such a spiteful thing to write! And suppose it is true. Suppose one of them isЧ"
He was in a pitiable state. He wanted so badly to attract Miss Hodge's
attention, but he knew that words like witch were not the kind of words one used