Not Just a Witch

‘You shouldn’t have come,’ said one of them hopelessly. ‘It’s a dreadful place this.’

‘Oh, I expect we can soon get things cheered up,’ said Heckie. But she was so angry she could hardly speak. She’d decided not to do anything till she was sure that the home was as bad as the young nurse said. Now she knew that it was worse. She’d seen Major Holden tied to his chair because he liked to wander about and the staff said he got in the way. She’d seen old Sam force-fed with revolting stew because he wouldn’t eat since he lost his parrot and Mrs Winneypeg didn’t want him to die and bring the doctor to ask awkward questions. She’d seen a woman as thin as a skeleton slip on the bathroom floor and be scolded for carelessness . . .

At eight, a nurse came to turn out the light.

‘I’d like a hot-water bottle,’ said Heckie. ‘I’m cold.’

‘A hot-water bottle!’ said the nurse. ‘You must be out of your mind!’

All the kind nurses had left; only the cruel ones could stand working for Mrs Winneypeg and most of them weren’t real nurses at all.

At midnight, Heckie got up and stood by the window. Everything was ready; all her helpers knew what to do. Daniel and Sumi were taking it in turns to mind the shop and sit with the dragworm; Joe had ‘borrowed’ his father’s keys to the West Gate of the zoo and would come with Boris in his van to drive whatever it was to safety.

Only what was it going to be? Heckie wasn’t sure. Nothing cuddly, of course. ‘I’ll just have to see how I feel when the time comes,’ she said, and went back to bed.

Breakfast was lumpy porridge and dry bread.

‘I want some butter,’ said Heckie. ‘I’ve paid good money to be here and I want some butter on my bread.’

After breakfast she said she’d like to go out for a little walk and at eleven she wanted a nice cup of coffee.

By lunchtime it was clear that something would have to be done about Miss Smith and the matron went to ring Mrs Winneypeg.

‘She’s a troublemaker, Mrs Winneypeg. I don’t know what to do with her.’

‘Do with her? Do what we always do,’ snapped Mrs Winneypeg. ‘Undress her, take her teeth out and shut her in her room.’

‘Well, I tried . . .’ Matron broke off, not really able to explain why it wasn’t easy to undress Miss Smith. ‘Her teeth don’t take out,’ she complained.

‘All right; I’m coming anyway at three o’clock to do the accounts. I’ll soon sort her out.’

And Heckie, who had been listening at the door, held up three fingers to Boris, waiting in the street in his parked van, and settled down to wait.

The residents were sitting in a circle in the lounge when the white Rolls-Royce drew up in front of the door. Heckie could see the way they cowered at the sight of it and her chin went up.

‘Listen,’ she said quickly. ‘How many of you can stand up without help? How many of you can walk?’

The circle of faces stared at her blankly.

‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Some of you can, I know. I’ve seen you.’

Still the poor browbeaten creatures just stared at her. Then slowly, Major Holden’s hand went up; then Sam’s . . . then those of the ladies who shared Heckie’s room – until almost everybody’s hand was raised.

‘Good,’ said Heckie. ‘Because I’m going to have a few words with Mrs Winneypeg and I want you to stand quite close in a circle. I need her to come right up to me – I don’t want her running away. And I don’t want . . . anything else running away either. Can you do that?’

The old people nodded. A little colour had come into their faces and Major Holden put up his hand in a salute.

The door opened and Mrs Winneypeg came into the room. She saw all the residents dozing as usual, and she marched straight up to Miss Smith.

‘Now then, I hear you’ve been making trouble,’ she said. ‘Just exactly what is the matter?’

Heckie rose from her chair. ‘Everything is the matter! Just exactly everything. This place is a disgrace. The food is revolting, the staff are unkind and you are a vicious woman!’

Mrs Winneypeg’s mouth opened; her chins quivered. ‘How dare you! How dare you speak to me like that!’ She marched towards Heckie which was exactly what Heckie wanted. And the old people had heard and understood. They were doing what Heckie had asked. One by one, with their walking frames and their sticks, they stood in a circle round Heckie and Mrs Winneypeg. They were frail and tottery, but there were a lot of them.

‘Well, I do dare. Why can’t Major Holden have some boot polish when he’s paid you thousands of pounds? Why did you take away Miss Merrick’s window-box? And where is Mr Sam’s parrot, answer me that?’

‘Why you . . . you disgusting old woman. I’ll have you put away! I’ll have you put in a loony bin. I’ll ring the hospital and tell them to come with a strait-jacket.’

This threat had always worked before, but Miss Smith only laughed. ‘Try it! Just you try it!’

Mrs Winneypeg blinked because Miss Smith seemed taller somehow and her voice had changed. But she moved forward and grabbed Heckie’s arm.