The Power of Poppy Pendle by Natasha Lowe Read Free Book Online Page A

tonight.”
    “Mum, she’s a nice girl,” Poppy blurted out, wanting her mother to understand. “She’s my friend.”
    “Poppy, she goes to the elementary school,” Mrs. Pendle shot back. “Lots of girls are going to want to be your friend, simply because you’re a witch.”
    “But Charlie’s not like that. She doesn’t care that I’m a witch, and she’s funny, Mum. I really like her.”
    Mrs. Pendle gave another dramatic sigh. “You should have told me she wasn’t a Ruthersfield girl. I trusted you, Poppy.”
    “Mum, if you knew she went to the elementary school, you wouldn’t have let me see her,” Poppy said, starting to cry.
    “Listen, sweetheart.” Mrs. Pendle’s voice softened. “Daddy and I know what’s best for you, and right now you really need to be concentrating on your magic.” She reached back a hand and patted Poppy on the leg. “So for your own good, Poppy, you’re not to see that girl again.”
    “But she’s nice,” Poppy said, huddling by the car window. “I like her, Mum. She’s the only friend I’ve got.”
    “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Poppy. There are plenty of nice girls at Ruthersfield. Girls just like you who are special.”
    “I don’t want to be special,” Poppy wept, kicking the back of her mother’s seat. And then she said the words that had been building up inside her for months. “I don’t want to be a witch.” It felt so good, Poppy said them again, louder this time. “I don’t want to be a witch, Mum. I hate magic.” She could see the back of her mother’s neck stiffen. “Mum, I truly don’t want to be a witch,” Poppy shouted. “Please try to understand.”
    “Now, Poppy, you’re just having a bad day,” Mrs. Pendle said at last. She switched on the radio. “We all get those once in a while.”
    Poppy kicked her mother’s seat again in frustration. “It wasn’t a bad day. It was one of the best days ever. I loved being with Charlie.” Her mother didn’t reply, and Poppy banged her fist on the door panel, needing to be heard. “Listen to me, Mum. I don’t want to be a witch,” she said, but her mother had turned up the volume, drowning out Poppy’s words. Poppy slumped back with a sigh, sinking down in her seat. She saw her mother glance at her in the rearview mirror and turned her head away, feeling invisible.

    As soon as they got home, Poppy charged straight upstairs. “I know you don’t understand this now,” Mrs. Pendle panted, following right behind her, “but you will when you’re older, I promise. Charlie would be a distraction for you, and this is an important year, Poppy. You can’t lose your focus.”
    “She’s nice,” Poppy sobbed, flinging herself down on her bed. “And Charlie’s parents don’t mind if she reads cookbooks.”
    “Charlie’s parents don’t have a little witch in the making, do they?” Mrs. Pendle clucked. “Now, how about this weekend we all take that trip to the Museum of Magical Discoveries I promised you? They have a whole display on Great-Granny Mabel and her hair invention.”
    “Mum, please go away,” Poppy whispered, crying into her pillow. “I’d like to be alone.”
    “Well, there’s no need to be rude, Poppy. I was only trying to be nice.”
    “Mum, I really hate magic,” Poppy pleaded, lifting up her head and looking at her mother out of red, watery eyes. “I hate it. I hate it. You just never listen to me.”
    “I’m going to put the kettle on.” Edith Pendle sighed. “Really, I’m just exhausted by all of this.” She smoothed Poppy’s skirt down. “Think about my museum idea, sweetheart. We could all do with a day out.”
    Poppy turned her face to the wall and closed her eyes. Living here was unbearable. Nothing she said made a difference. Her mother would never understand how she felt.

    “She doesn’t recognize the opportunity she’s got.” Maxine from next door sympathized over a cup of tea later that afternoon. “What an honor it is to go to