Katie and the Other Witch Part Two - Katie, The Ordinary Witch

We know you can't wait to here part 2 of this story about the "other witch", Agrippina Crompton, who has set up business in Katie's town. Is she a fake witch? Listen on to find out.

Katie and the Other Witch Part Two

Hello, This is Natasha, and I’m back with the second part of our story about Katie and the Other Witch. The Other Witch is a lady called Agrippina Crompton whom Katie and her mum know is a fake. It seems that she is charging people loads of money for fake spells. How can Katie prove that she is a con-artist?

Story by Bertie.
Read by Natasha.
Proofread by Jana Elizabeth.

When Katie has some interesting news, she always shares it with her best friend who is called Isis. It was only natural that she told her all about the fake witch, and how she had conned Isabelle’s mum out of all her money.

“Poor Isabelle,” texted back Isis on the chat-app. “I mean she’s a bit of a...” (she was going to call her something rude, perhaps a farm animal, but was too well brought up, so she just wrote three dots). Then she added: “But it’s totally wrong to cheat people.”

“What we need now,” replied Katie, “is proof.”

Isis thought about the problem all evening, and the next day at school she said to Katie:

“I’ve got a plan to nail that fake witch, and it’s pure genius. This weekend I will fill in one of those silly personality tests. I’ll get a free appointment with Agrippina, tell her that I’ve lost my beloved boyfriend, cry a bit, and let her know that I’m very rich and spoiled and my mum will pay any price to make me happy. Let’s see what she comes up with?”

It was such a brilliant idea that Katie and Isis slapped hands together. And Isis was as good as her word. Instead of going to the pony farm on Saturday morning, she walked past the shopping centre and met Paul.

“Hi Isis,” said Paul. “Do you want to fill in a free personality test?”

“Why should I?” said Isis not looking very interested. “It can only say that I have star quality.”

“Oh, it can help you in all sorts of ways,” said Paul. “Everyone says it’s worthwhile, and it only takes five minutes.”

And so Isis filled in the test answering seemingly pointless questions like:

- Do you browse through railway timetables, directories or dictionaries just for pleasure?

- Do you enjoy telling people latest scandals about your circle?

- Would you rather be an astronaut or a dustman?

- Do you make tactless remarks at parties?

When she had completed the questions, Paul tapped on his iPad and booked Isis in for a free appointment at 4.30 that afternoon.

The witch’s office was in a large terraced house along with some lawyers, accountants and a taxi company. Isis went up the stairs into the reception room where a receptionist, who was dressed like a fashion model, asked her to take a seat.

Isis looked around the room: “Well you’ve got to hand it to Agrippina,” she thought to herself. “The fake witch has got a cool witchy style.”

Everything was minimalist, and very high quality. The floor was solid oak. The subdued lighting came from side lamps and some small spotlights in the ceiling. Behind the receptionist’s desk hung two enormous tribal masks, triangular faces, with orange and white face paint, and dried grass for hair. They were extremely striking. A couple of statues about waist height were more grotesque, with horrid faces and carved monkeys sitting on their heads. The whole effect was of a very up-market art gallery in somewhere like Mayfair.

After a little while, the receptionist said: “You may go in now.”

Agrippina was looking out of the window towards the park. She turned around and said:

“Come in Isis. Sit down and make yourself comfortable.”

Isis settled down on a sofa, and Agrippina sat on an office chair behind a table. The fake witch wore a smart professional suit and her hair looked like it had been expensively done. Gold bangles dangled around her wrists. You might have taken her for a businesswoman. Isis thought: “If Katie’s mum smartened herself up like that she might get more customers.”

Agrippina looked through her notes with a serious expression on her face.

“Well I don’t mean to alarm you,” she said, “but I have read your test results and I am very concerned about your personality. You really don’t love yourself, do you Isis?”

“Should I?” replied Isis.

“Yes, you should,” said Agrippina. “Loving yourself is the first step to health, wealth and happiness.”

At which point Isis began to sob and say: “How can I love myself when nobody else does? My boyfriend’s dumped me, and my mum never wants to spend time with me. She’s far too busy shopping and going on luxury holidays. She thinks all she has to do is throw money at me to make me happy. But love means nothing to her. When my dad divorced her, he gave her millions and millions of pounds and now she thinks money is the solution to everything.”

“Oh dear,” said Agrippina. “That is sad. But all is not lost. If you come and see me twice a week, I’m sure I can help you find yourself.”

“What can you do?” asked Isis.

“Well I always say it is important to treat the whole family” said Agrippina. “It seems that your mother’s emphasis on money and material things is the cause of your unhappiness. Yes, I can see this coming through in your test results. So what we need to do is for me to meet your mother, and to suggest that she makes a little sacrifice.”

“UGH! What kind of sacrifice?” asked Isis. “Do you mean like killing a chicken on an altar? I saw that in a film about vampires.

“Oh Goodness Gracious no!” exclaimed Agrippina. “We don’t do horrid things like that these days. I mean, well you’ll see, more of a financial sacrifice to prove that love is more important than money.”

“Oh I see,” said Isis. “That make sense. She could easily afford that. Well I’ll ask her if she’ll come and see you.”

“Tell her to call Lizzie my secretary and make an appointment. My time is very booked-up, but I’ll treat your case as top priority and urgent,” said Agripina.

Isis stood up looking very serious and left the room. It was only when she met Katie outside on the pavement and they had walked around the corner that she burst out laughing:

“I did my poor little rich girl act and she bought it 100%. You should have seen her eyes light up when I told her that my mum is filthy rich. She was planning so many greedy deeds that she could hardly stop herself drooling all over her designer suit.”

For the next stage of the plan, they needed the help of Isis’s mum. Katie’s mum rang her up and explained what they needed her to do:

“Oh I don’t know,” said Isis’s mum. “I never was any good at acting, and what if anyone heard that I was consulting a witch? I’m sorry Doreen, I don’t mean any offence, but it’s not the done thing around here.”

But Margo the Vicar was more persuasive. Isis’s mum agreed to help after she had spoken to the Reverend. In fact, it turned out that she was very good at playing the part of a woman who had loads and loads of money, so much, that she could not find enough time for all the luxury cruises, safari's, and health spa treatments that she wanted to buy. Secretly it was a bit of a fantasy of hers. She also had to pretend to be gullible.

She made an appointment with the witch. Agrippina told her how concerned she was about her daughter - how she did not love herself enough - how she put too much store by her schoolwork, and as a consequence was destined to be unhappy.

“I’ve always taught her to love herself above all else!" exclaimed Isis’s mum (which of course was not true). “In fact, I teach her to worship herself like a god.”

“That’s very good,” said Agrippina. “We all have the divine within us. But clearly something is not working. I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but perhaps she puts too much emphasis on material things like luxury and money. This is where I can help you. To treat Isis, we need to treat the whole family. I’m afraid it will be expensive, but you only want the best for your Isis.”

“Oh indeed, the best of everything,” said her mother.

“The most powerful magic comes from Irian Jaya. I have exclusive access to an ancient money tree that grows in a remote Indonesian village. You must make a sacrifice, and my porters will carry it to the tree and hang it on the branches.”

“What kind of sacrifice?” asked Isis’s mum.

“Mmm, I would suggest about 100,000 to begin with, and if that does not fully work, we can always step up the dose.”

“A hundred thousand what?”

“Pounds,” said Agrippina gravely.

“In weight?”

“No, money.”

When Isis’s mum left the office, she couldn’t wait to listen back to the secret recording to make sure that she had heard correctly. She sat in the car with Katie’s mum and Margo and pressed the play button. Yes, she had heard correctly. Agrippina really had suggested that she sacrifice £100,000 in money so that it could be hung on the branches of a magic tree in the Indonesian jungle.

“Could anyone be so stupid as to fall for that?” she asked.

“I think Isabelle’s mum did,” said Katie’s mum.

They were tempted to go straight to the police with the evidence, but they wondered why Isabelle’s mum and Margo’s parishioner had not done that themselves.

“I have spoken to both of them” said Margo, “and they are too embarrassed to admit how foolish they have been."

“I can understand that,” said Isis’s mum. “I heard that Isabelle wanted to win a TV Talent Show and Agrippina persuaded her to hand over all money to make it possible, but then Isabelle didn’t even make it past the first audition.”

“That’s awful,” said Katie’s mum. “We must stop her!”

They dropped Margo off at the church and Katie’s mum said to Isis’s: “Have you got time for coffee?”

They decided to go back to Katie’s house because they could talk more privately than in a coffee shop. And that’s how they planned what to do next. Isis’s mum was cast in the starring role of the plot, but the main thing she had to do was not be scared, what ever happened.

“We’re just going to spook her,” said Katie’s mum. “Nobody can get hurt.”

Two days later, Isis and her mother were back in the reception room of Agrippina’s white witch surgery. Another client; a middle aged woman with pearls, was sitting on the sofa opposite them. Suddenly she said: “Oh!” and then: “Dear me, did you see that? It gave me a fright!”

The receptionist looked over and said softly, “Excuse me madame, is anything the matter?”
“Oh,” she said still a bit flustered: “It’s just that the mask on the wall winked at me! I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Surely not?” said the receptionist.

Isis piped up: “Anything can happen here. It’s a witch’s surgery.”

The lady reddened a little and said:

“Mmm, I suppose I must have imagined it.”

A little later the receptionist looked up said: “I hope you are feeling alright now Mrs Crawford. Agrippina is ready to see you.”

Mrs Crawford’s consultation with Agrippina did not last much more than about ten minutes. She came out looking more confused than ever.

The receptionist asked: “Would you like to book another appointment?"

“Er no thank you,” said the lady. Then she turned to Isis’s mum and said in a low voice:

“That was the strangest conversation of my life. She confessed to being a fake witch, a cold hearted con-artist, and trying to fleece me of all my savings,” and then she walked out of the surgery.

When she had gone, Agrippina came out of her office looking rather pale and shocked. She walked over to Isis and her mum and said: “I am very sorry, I am going to have to reschedule your appointment. I’m not quite myself today.”

“Is that because you are telling the truth?” asked Isis.

“Well yes,” said Agrippina. “It’s not like me at all. I can’t understand why I keep doing it.”

“Poor you,” said Isis’s mum sympathetically. “It must be most embarrassing.”

“Well it is rather,” said Agrippina.

“Especially as you are a con-artist,” added Isis.

“That’s right,” agreed Agrippina. She looked startled at her own words and added: “Oh my God, why do I keep doing that?!"

It was then that one of the giant masks on the wall explained in a deep, scary voice: “Because you are a fake witch who has been bewitched by a real one.”

The receptionist stood up and looked round at the mask. It said to her:

“And you are guilty too because you know exactly what she’s up to.” The receptionist screamed and accidently knocked over a vase of flowers.

Then a mask shaped like a fruit bat flew off the wall and started to buzz around her hair. “Ugh, get off me,” said the receptionist, waving her arms at it, and making for the door.

Agrippina spoke in a cracked voice: “Are you witches?”

Isis stood up and waved her finger at her:

“If you were a real witch you would know we aren’t,” said Isis. “But this is the work of a real witch, and if you don’t want to be haunted by wooden statues for the rest of your life, you had better give back all the money that you’ve stolen.”

“But I can’t, I’ve spent most of it!” complained the fake witch, now looking very alarmed. One of the slightly gruesome wooden statues with monkeys on its head started to walk towards her. It said:

“Sell your house. Sell your car. Sell your works of art. Pay back the people you tricked!”

Agrippina cowered behind the sofa, while the masks joined in saying: “Pay them back. Pay them back!”

“You’re lucky we haven’t gone to the police!” said Isis. “But we will do, if you don’t repay the people you cruelly tricked!”

“Alright, alright, I will!" shrieked Agrippina from behind the sofa.

And Isis and her mum knew she really meant what she said, because Katie’s mum had put a truth spell on her. Their work was done and they left Agrippina and the talking statues to get on with the rest of their day.

Of course the news travelled fast around town that the “other witch” was closing her surgery and selling up her house. There were rumours that Katie’s mum had put a spell on her. Some people said that the rival witches had battled it out with magic wands and flying broomsticks over the common at midnight on Friday 13th. It was all nonsense of course. The truth was even stranger. And the gossip took a more positive tone. Shumash reported that Isabelle’s mum seemed to have got over her financial troubles, because she was able to move back into her old house. The vicar said that her parishioner was happy that his mother had got her money back.

As for Katie’s mum - she was used to rumours and gossip. It was part and parcel of being a witch. But she had the satisfaction of knowing that she always used her powers responsibly and to help people, not herself because, as she always said to Katie:

“Real magic is the opposite of selfish. It’s about understanding other people’s feelings.”

And that was the story of Katie and the Other Witch. I do hope that you enjoyed this Katie story in two parts. There are loads and loads more Katie stories that you can find at Storynory.com. All of them are written and narrated for free. If your family has enjoyed them, please consider making a donation. Details can be found on Storynory.com.
Thank you for your help.