Helen Speaks

Lucy Skylark Entry 1, 10^th March.

Dear Vera,

It has been a challenging week of trying to be open with people here in my new home. I know I can be shy, and the people of Barkmouth often seem quite implacable. On a walk today around the cliff paths, I met a couple walking their dog, and they asked what I was doing here. I told them I was a witch in my training year, and that I’d be willing to help with any problems that might need magical solutions, and they just smiled politely and said, “Oh, how interesting,” in a way that suggested they didn’t find it interesting at all.

But then I received an unexpected visitor, who specifically wanted my help!

A very pretty little bird landed on my window sill. I went to give her some seeds and then she chirped at me rather insistently that, as a witch, I was obligated to give her room and board. Well, I was very surprised to hear a bird talk but she didn’t seem to think this was at all unusual, but asked me to hurry in providing her with some kind of nest box as she needed to lay an egg very soon.

I found an old shoebox above the wardrobe in my room and some wool for the base, and she hopped in eagerly and immediately started laying her egg.

The noise must have disturbed Teddy, my ghost friend, who wisped out of his case and took human shape surprisingly quickly. “What’s that darn critter doing?” Teddy demanded. “It’s bad luck to have a bird in the house.”

“But you’re dead, Teddy,” I said. “And besides, she needed our hospitality. This is one of the many things a witch needs to do.”

He stared at me blankly. The suitcase he haunts was brought over from New York, we think some time in the 50s, and he still doesn’t understand a lot about witches. I think about the witch trials and I get upset. I think when I was young I assumed that witches would always be around, but, like Barkmouth, I realise many places haven’t had a town witch in decades. It seems that we are all desperate to make a world with more connection and kindness and yet everything humans create seems to take us further away from it.

One of the other lodgers suggested I was going through a youthful phase. “Nothin’ wrong with that, of course,” he said. “Young people need a bit of freedom. But magic isn’t a career – you’ll understand when you’re older.”

Mrs Webfoot scolded him, but then said, “Don’t listen to him. Of course some people do grow out of their magical power – my niece did – but you may not.”

I said I was planning to grow into it.

When my little bird friend had settled for a bit, I fetched her some more seeds and, instead of going to the internet like I might’ve done in the past, I walked down to the garden centre and bought her some bird feed.

“How did you learn to talk?” I asked her.

“Oh I’ve always been able to talk,” she said. “But it was only last year that I learned how to talk to you people. There was a witch in the north, where it’s flat. A male, with a bit of plumage on the face. He got fed up when I tried to talk to him and gave me a little tap with a writing quill. Then I discovered I could understand him and he could understand me.”

“Do you know his name?”

“No I forgot it. I didn’t stay long.”

“Well you’ll need to stay a while if you’re laying eggs,” I said. “Do you have a mate?”

“Well, obviously,” she said. “And I’m sure he’ll be along soon. You’d better leave your window open.”

It’s a bit breezy near the sea so I managed to persuade her that I’ll close the window at night. Teddy is giving her a wide berth when he appears. I worried Mrs Webfoot wouldn’t like it, but she thinks it’s charming to have a little bird in the house. I’m lucky to have such a kind hostess.

My new friend talks more than Teddy does – she says I’m much the smartest human she’s ever met, although I think she’s flattering me because she wants company. I will talk to her a little as I sketch but I’ve also told her that I have important witch business when I need to go for a walk. She doesn’t have a human name so I’m calling her Suki, which she accepts.

I’ve also noticed that the local coffee shop has an opening so I have applied. It doesn’t seem to be magical at all, but that’s probably a good thing. I’d just like a little money so I can save up and buy some things without asking my parents for extras.

I wish I had a witch friend here. I do miss our conversations, Vera. It’s nice to feel someone else understands.

Your friend,

Lucy.