The Marvelous Magic of Miss Mabel (15 page)

“I . . . ,” Mabel began. She gave a soft sigh. “I don't know of any witches in my family, Miss Harcourt.” Tabitha gave her a sympathetic look.

Winifred put her hand up again. “Miss Harcourt,” she said, glancing at Diana. “It's not really fair asking Mabel about her magical roots when she doesn't know who her parents are.” There was a gasp from the class, and Winifred blurted out, “It can't be easy being found in a flowerpot.”

Mabel blinked behind her glasses. There was a fuzzy ringing in her ears, and she gripped the edge of her desk, feeling like she couldn't breathe in enough air. All the girls were staring at her, even Ruby.

“There may be evil magic in Mabel's past, for all we know,” Winifred continued. “That could be the reason Mabel was abandoned.”

“That is not true,” Mabel burst out, finding her voice at last. “You are lying, Winifred. I hate you.” Mabel pushed back her chair and stood up.

The girls gasped again, more loudly, and Winifred stood up too. For a moment she looked frightened, as if she knew she had gone too far. “How dare you accuse me of lying, Mabel Ratcliff. My words are the absolute truth. Miss Eliza Cranford, one of our houseguests this weekend, informed us of your situation.”

“You liar,” Mabel shouted, lurching at Winifred.

Miss Harcourt pulled her wand out of the knitted case hanging from a ribbon around her waist and pointed it at the floor. A cloud of purple smoke shot out with a loud bang. “That is quite enough,” Miss Harcourt snapped. “I will not tolerate this behavior in my classroom.”

Mabel shoved Winifred hard in the stomach. “I hate you,” she croaked, her voice thick with tears. Turning, Mabel ran from the room. She bolted along the corridor and down the stairs, clattering across the great hall.

“Mabel Ratcliff, where are you going?” Violet Featherstone called out. Mabel ignored her and pushed open the front doors. She blinked against the sharp sunlight, blinded for a moment after the gloom of the academy. Stumbling down the wide stone steps, Mabel started to run. She ran as hard as she could, trying to get away from the memory that had surfaced in her head, the memory of a beach on a hot summer day, and Eliza Cranford's cruel words. “Your mother
was an earthworm. She lived in a flowerpot.” That was what Eliza had said, and Mabel cried as she ran down Glover Lane, suddenly understanding what Nora had been hiding from her all these years. Mabel wasn't her child.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Mabel sobbed, pushing past Nanny Grimshaw and into the drawing room, where she found Nora at her desk. “You're not my real mother, are you?”

Nora flinched and put down her pen. “Mabel, what are you saying?” she gasped. “Where did you get such information?”

“Eliza Cranford,” Mabel cried out. “She was the girl who used to tease me back in Melton Bay. And now I know why. Because you found me in a flowerpot!”

“You will not speak to your mother in that way,” Nanny Grimshaw fumed, following Mabel into the room.

“Mabel, please,” Nora said, hurrying over.

“Is it true?” Mabel sobbed. “Have you been pretending all this time to be my mother? Was I abandoned as a baby?”

“Mabel.” Nora's face drained of color. She held out her hand. “It's not like that.”

“And Dr. Ratcliff. He's not my father, is he? Is he?” Mabel repeated. Nora slowly shook her head. “You
should have told me,” Mabel cried out. “And to hear it from horrible Winifred Delacy.”

“Oh, Mabel, please,” Nora said, but Mabel was already squeezing past Nanny, trying to get to the stairs.

“Not so fast,” Nanny Grimshaw exploded, grabbing Mabel by the arm. “You insolent, rude child. I have never seen such disrespectful behavior. Talking back to your mother, screaming.” She pulled Mabel into the hallway and yanked her umbrella out of the stand. “Hold out your hand,” Nanny Grimshaw ordered, raising the umbrella above her head. “This deserves a proper beating.”

“No,” Nora shouted from the doorway. “Put that down right now.” The color had returned to her face and she was shaking. “How dare you threaten to hit my child! How dare you.” Mabel had never seen her mother so angry. “You may pack your bags and leave. I will not tolerate such behavior.”

“You won't tolerate such behavior?” Nanny Grimshaw gasped, not letting go of Mabel. “After all I've put up with, looking after this—this charity case for eight years. And I've never said a word, have I?” she spat out. “Oh, I knew,” Nanny Grimshaw said, breathing hard. “The Cranfords' nanny was most informative. But I kept it to myself. You should be thanking me for all I've done.”

“I'll thank you to leave,” Nora said in a low voice, pointing at the front door. “I have clearly been blind about a great many things.”

“You'll never find another nanny to take my place. Mabel is ungovernable.” Nanny Grimshaw sniffed and pulled back her shoulders. “I was planning on giving my notice anyway. I know she put me under some kind of spell the other night, and I will not stand for such behavior. I've a good mind to report her to Miss Brewer.”

“Please go,” Nora said sharply. “Now.”

The moment Nanny Grimshaw loosened her hold, Mabel yanked her arm free and ran upstairs to her room. She closed the door and banged against it, over and over, until her fist was swollen and throbbing. Then Mabel climbed into bed, burying herself under her feather comforter. It was warm and dark and she never wanted to come out. Shutting her eyes, she hunched into a tight ball, and with tears slipping down her cheeks, Mabel escaped into a shocked sleep.

She slept for a long time, noticing when she woke up, that the light was soft and mellow, full of the golden glow of a summer afternoon. Someone had left a cup of tea and a piece of seedcake on the little table beside her bed. But Mabel wasn't hungry. Tea and cake couldn't fill the emptiness she felt inside her right now.
Somewhere out there she had another mother. Getting out of bed, Mabel went to find Nora.

“I'd like to know the truth, please,” Mabel said, standing beside Nora's chair.

Nora nodded and reached for Mabel's hand. “I didn't mean to lie to you, Mabel. I really didn't. But I hated seeing you get hurt. Eliza Cranford was awful to you. All the children were, and when we moved to Potts Bottom, it seemed like the perfect opportunity for a fresh start. I didn't want you being teased at school, or judged. I just wanted to protect you.” Nora squeezed Mabel's fingers. “I love you, Mabel.”

“Did you really find me in a flowerpot?” Mabel asked, sinking down on the footstool by Nora's chair.

“I did.” Nora nodded. And in a soft voice she told Mabel all about her beginnings, about finding her tucked up in one of the terra-cotta flowerpots by the front door, covered in a blanket of ferns.

“How could my mother do that to me?” Mabel whispered.

“It was full of earth and nice and soft. Your mother did it out of love, Mabel. You must believe that. She wanted you to have a better life.”

“I don't believe any mother would abandon her baby out of love,” Mabel said fiercely.

“If she couldn't take care of you, she had little choice,”
Nora murmured. “Otherwise you would have ended up in an orphanage.”

Mabel picked at a loose thread on the embroidered stool cover. “Why did she choose your house?” she asked. “Did she know you?”

“I have a feeling that she did. Frank and I spent many afternoons distributing blankets and food to the poor, and after he died I continued on for some years, doing what I could.” Nora was silent for a few moments, and then said, “It was well known that Frank and I had wanted children.”

For a long time the room was silent. Mabel wrapped her arms around her legs, trying to picture what her mother looked like. Did she ever think of Mabel and wonder what had happened to her? Did she have the same achy feeling in her heart that Mabel was experiencing right now? At one point Nora handed Mabel her handkerchief, and Mabel dabbed at her eyes with it, not realizing she had been crying.

“I pushed Winifred,” Mabel said at last. “And I ran out of class. I'm bound to get in a lot of trouble.”

“Would you like me to go and talk to Miss Brewer tomorrow? Try and explain things?” Nora said.

“No, thank you,” Mabel replied. “I'll manage.” She heaved a heavy sigh, listening to the rhythmic ticking of the clock.

“Is Nanny really gone?” Mabel suddenly asked, not quite believing that Nanny Grimshaw wasn't waiting on the other side of the door, ready to march Mabel up to the nursery.

“I should have let her go a long time ago. That was another of my mistakes. I didn't listen to you, and I'm so sorry. You tried to tell me, Mabel. I should have paid more attention. Not been so busy with my roses.” Nora put her head in her hands and groaned.

“That's all right, Mama. Nanny was different with you. I'm just glad she's left,” Mabel said. “And I don't think we need another nanny.”

“No.” Nora nodded in agreement. “I believe we can manage without one.”

“I think, if you don't mind, I would like to change my name to Magnolia,” Mabel said. “Mabel doesn't feel right anymore. Perhaps my real grandmother was called Magnolia? Maybe that's why I have always liked the name.” Mabel squeezed her eyes shut.

“Oh, Mabel.” Nora's eyes filled with sadness.

“You should have told me,” Mabel whispered, pressing her face against her knees. “Mothers don't keep secrets from their daughters.”

Lying in bed that evening, Mabel couldn't sleep. She kicked her covers off and then yanked them back on,
unable to settle. Somewhere out there she had a mother and a father she had never met. Perhaps it had all been a horrible accident, Mabel thought, flipping her pillow to the cool side. Perhaps she had bounced out of their carriage driving over a pothole one night and they didn't see. Maybe someone found her outside the Ratcliff house and put her in the flowerpot to keep her safe. Maybe her parents never realized she was gone until they got home, and by then it was too late. Maybe they grieved for years and years, not knowing what had happened to her. Mabel's eyes filled with tears, imagining what they might look like. Her father would be tall with kind eyes, and her mother would have the softest hands and the sweetest smile. They would have loved Mabel so much that they never went on to have any more children. Mabel thumped her pillow, and then thumped it again, over and over until tiny feathers leaked out. She dropped her head down and started to sob, knowing in her heart that she had been left in that flowerpot on purpose.

I
T FELT SO STRANGE THE
next morning, not having Nanny Grimshaw there, flinging back her curtains. And when Mabel washed her face, she realized that Daisy had brought up warm water in the pitcher and not cold. Nora rose early to have breakfast with her, and Daisy had made scones, spread thickly with butter and homemade gooseberry jam.

“I'm never going to make another pan of porridge again as long as I live,” Daisy whispered, braiding Mabel's hair for her. “Now that the mean old nanny goat has gone.” Mabel knew Daisy was only trying to cheer her up, but she couldn't smile. There was too
much to think about, what with Nora not being her real mother, and the thought of facing Miss Brewer and all the girls at school. Mabel's stomach ached. All she wanted was to crawl back into bed.

Nora gave her an extra-long hug before she left. “Miss Brewer is a sensible woman,” she pointed out. “I'm sure she won't judge you too harshly.”

Ruby was waiting for Mabel outside the house, admiring Nora's magnificent roses. “I thought we could walk to school together,” Ruby said, “since you left Lightning and your broomstick behind yesterday. To be honest I'd rather walk than fly, anyway,” she added.

“Thanks, Ruby.” Mabel tried to keep the glumness from her voice.