I Shall Wear Midnight

witches looked at one another and then held her breath. The hall fell silent and neither of them blinked. And then – surely not – Granny Weatherwax winked and Mrs Proust smiled.
    ‘Very pleased to make your acquaintance,’ said Granny.
    ‘How very nice to see you,’ said Mrs Proust.
    They exchanged a further glance and turned to Tiffany Aching, who suddenly understood that old, clever witches had been older and cleverer for much longer than her.
    Granny Weatherwax almost laughed when Mrs Proust said, ‘We don’t need to know one another’s names to recognize one another, but can I suggest, young lady, that you start breathing again.’
    Granny Weatherwax lightly and primly took Mrs Proust’s arm and turned to where Nanny Ogg was coming down the stairs, followed by Letitia, who was blushing in places where people don’t often blush, and said, ‘Do come with me, my dear. You must meet my friend, Mrs Ogg, who buys quite a lot of your merchandise.’
    Tiffany walked away. For a brief moment in time, there was nothing for her to do. She looked down the length of the hall, where people were still gathering in little groups, and saw the Duchess by herself. Why did she do it? Why did she walk over to the woman? Maybe, she thought, if you know you are going to be facing a horrible monster, it is as well to get in a little practice. But to her absolute amazement, the Duchess was crying.
    ‘Can I help in any way?’ said Tiffany.
    She was the immediate subject of a glare, but the tears were still falling. ‘She’s all I’ve got,’ said the Duchess, looking over at Letitia, who was still trailing Nanny Ogg. ‘I’m sure Roland will be a very considerate husband. I hope she will think that I have given her a good grounding to get her safely through the world.’
    ‘I think you’ve definitely taught her many things,’ said Tiffany.
    But the Duchess was now staring at the witches, and without looking at Tiffany she said, ‘I know we’ve had our differences, young lady, but I wonder if you can tell me who that lady is up there, one of your sister witches, talking to the remarkably tall one.’
    Tiffany glanced around for a moment. ‘Oh, that’s Mrs Proust. She’s from Ankh-Morpork, you know. Is she an old friend of yours? She was asking about you, only a little while ago.’
    The Duchess smiled, but it was a strange little smile. If smiles had a colour, it would have been green. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘That was, er’ – she paused, swaying a little – ‘very kind of her.’ She coughed. ‘I am so glad that you and my daughter appear to be close chums and I would like to tender you my apologies for any hastiness on my part in recent days. I would also very much like to tender you and the hard-working staff here my apologies for what may have appeared to be high-handed behaviour, and I trust you will accept that these stemmed from a mother’s determination to do the very best for her child.’ She spoke very carefully, the words coming out like children’s coloured building blocks, and between the blocks – like mortar – were the unspoken words: Please, please, don’t tell people I was a dancer in a music hall. Please!
    ‘Well, of course, we’re all on edge,’ said Tiffany. ‘Least said, soonest mended, as they say.’
    ‘Regrettably,’ said the Duchess, ‘I don’t think I said least.’ Tiffany noticed that there was a large wine glass in her hand, and it was almost empty. The Duchess watched Tiffany for a while and then continued, ‘A wedding almost straight after a funeral, is that right?’
    ‘Some people think that it’s bad luck to move a wedding once it’s planned,’ said Tiffany.
    ‘Do you believe in luck?’ said the Duchess.
    ‘I believe in not having to believe in luck,’ said Tiffany. ‘But, your grace, I can tell you in truth that at such times the universe gets a little closer to us. They are strange times, times of beginnings and endings. Dangerous and powerful. And we feel it even if we don’t know what it is. These times are not necessarily good, and not necessarily bad. In fact, what they are depends on what we are.’
    The Duchess looked down at the empty glass in her hand. ‘For some reason, I think I should be taking a nap.’ She turned to head towards the stairs, nearly missing the first step.
    There was a burst of laughter from the other end of the hall. Tiffany followed the Duchess, but stopped to tap Letitia on the shoulder.
    ‘If I was you, I’d go