Witch's Business by Diana Wynne Jones Read Free Book Online Page B

desperately, wondering if Frank could hear and what he was doing. “I’m sure you’re really kind and nice, Miss Iremonger, and I’m sure you wouldn’t like poor little Silas to suffer when it wasn’t his fault.”
    Biddy looked at her sarcastically. “What gave you that idea, Jessica Pirie? I don’t care two pins what happens to the little Wilkins. Why should I?”
    â€œBut we do,” said Jess and Vernon.
    Frank and Martin, meanwhile, were slithering in the damp ground at the back of the hut. It had, plainly, been a boathouse once. That end, just above the river, was a big double door, rather like a garage door, all rotted at the foot. The two halves were held together by a rusty chain, which had been padlocked to a couple of even rustier staples. It was clear that one good wrench would have a staple out and the doors open in next to no time.
    Frank looked at Martin, whose face seemed as blank and cool as a statue’s. “Do you think she means no?”
    Martin nodded. “She’s just playing cat and mouse. Making Vernon angry. Go on.”
    So Frank, who was nearest, put out a careful hand, hooked his finger in a staple, and yanked. And it was suddenly agonizing. Frank could not let go. A pain like a huge electric shock shot up his arm in waves. He all but yelled. Before he knew what he was doing, he was down on his knees, pulling with all his might to get his hand free from the staple. It came away at last, and Frank fell back against the doors with a bang that Biddy must have heard. He listened wretchedly, because he could not have gotten away. His arm hurt too much to move.
    To his amazement, no one seemed to have heard. He could hear Biddy, quite clearly, saying, “This for you first, little Miss Pirie. You’ve been trespassing on my business, haven’t you? You and your brother. I’ll have you know that Own Back is my concern, not yours, and if I hear any more of your activities, I warn you I shall take a very poor view indeed. I may do something extremely unpleasant. Is that clear?”
    Jess answered, in her most argumentative way, “I don’t see why you should. You’ve got some customers out of us, if it comes to that.”
    Biddy gave a great cackle of laughter. “So I have. So I have, but I mean it.”
    All this time, Frank was leaning against the rotting door. Martin, with a slightly scornful wrinkle in his nose, said, “What’s the matter? Shall I do it?”
    â€œDon’t touch it!” said Frank.
    But Martin already had his hand on the staple. Frank heard him gasp. Frank lurched up, seized Martin’s wrist in both hands, and yanked his arm clear. Martin, looking very white, collapsed against the doors, too, till the boards bounced. “Christmas! ” he said. “Sorry, I didn’t— ow! —understand. This is no good, is it?”
    â€œLet’s get out,” said Frank.
    â€œMinute!” said Martin. Frank quite understood, knowing what he had felt like. He waited while Martin leaned against the door, bent over, hugging his arm and breathing like a sawmill. While he waited, Frank heard Vernon shouting at Biddy again and Biddy’s sharp voice cutting across Vernon’s.
    â€œIt’s no good dancing up and down, young man. I don’t care what people say or do. You must learn that. The answer is: No Never! Wilkins’s face can go the way of Adams’s foot, and I don’t care. I told you, Jessica, that Jenny will walk when she has her heirloom. You may add that Silas will talk at the same time. Now be off, before I set the dogs on you.”
    â€œDogs?” said Jess. Things were getting out of hand and horrible. Vernon had lost his temper completely and, although Jess did not blame him, she found him as frightening as Biddy.
    â€œI’ll give you dogs!” Vernon shouted. He picked up a paint can off the oil drums and threw it at Biddy. Biddy did not