Once More With Footnotes

people."
     
                  Any minute now, Nanny thought. Any minute now she's going to raise her head and narrow her eyes and if Letice doesn 't take two steps backward she'll be a lot tougher than me.
     
                  "I can't stay and watch?" Granny said quietly.
     
                  "I know yout game," said Letice. "You're planning to spoil it, aren't you? You can't stand the thought of being beaten, so you're intending somet hing nasty."
     
                  Three steps back, Nanny thought. Else there won't be anything left but bones. Any minute now ...
     
                  "Oh, I wouldn't like anyone to think I was spoiling anything," said Granny. She sighed and stood up. "I'll be off home ..."
     
                  "No you won't!" snapped Nanny Ogg, pushing her back down onto the chair. "What do you think of this, Beryl Dismass? And you, Letty Parkin?"
     
                  "They're all — " Letice began. "I weren't talking to you!"
     
                  The witches behind Mrs. Earwig avoided Nanny's gaze.
     
                  "Well, it's not that ... I mean, we don't think ..." began Beryl awkwardly. "That is ... I've always had a lot of respect for ... but ... well, it is for everyone ..."
     
                  Her voice trailed off. Letice looked triumphant.
     
                  "Really? I think we had better be going after all, then," said Nanny sourly. "I don't like the comp'ny in these parts." She looked around. "Agnes? You give me a hand to get Granny home ..."
     
                  "I really don't need ..." Granny began, but the other two each look an arm and gently propelled her through the cro wd, which parted to let them through and turned to watch them go.
     
                  "Probably the best for all concerned, in the circumstances," said Letice. Several of the witches tried not to look at her face.
     
    -
     
                  There were scraps of material all over the floor in Gra nny's kitchen, and gouts of congealed jam had dripped off the edge of the table and formed an immovable mound on the floor. The jam saucepan had been left in the stone sink to soak, although it was clear that the iron would rust away before the jam ever s o ftened.
     
                  There was a row of empty pickle jars beside them.
     
                  Granny sat down and folded her hands in her lap.
     
                  "Want a cup of tea, Esme?" said Nanny Ogg.
     
                  "No, dear, thank you. You get on back to the Trials. Don't you worry about me," said Granny. "You sure?"
     
                  "I'll just sit here quiet. Don't you worry."
     
                  "I'm not going back!" Agnes hissed, as they left. "I don't like the way Letice smiles ..."
     
                  "You once told me you didn't like the way Esme frowns," said Nanny. "Yes, but you can trust a frown. Er ... you don't think she's losing it, do you?
     
                  "No one'll be able to find it if she has," said Nanny. "No, you come on back with me. I'm sure she's planning ... something." I wish the hell I knew what it is, she thought. I'm not sure I can take any more waiti ng.
     
    -
     
                  She could feel the mounting tension before they reached the field. Of course, there was always tension, that was part of the Trials, but this kind had a sour, unpleasant taste. The sideshows were still going on but ordinary folk were leaving, spoo ked by sensations they couldn't put their finger on which nevertheless had them under their thumb. As for the witches themselves, they had that look worn by actors about two minutes from the end of a horror movie, when they know the monster is about to ma k e its final leap and now it's only a matter of which door.
     
                  Letice was surrounded by witches. Nanny could hear raised voices. She nudged another witch, who was watching gloomily.
     
                  "What's happening, Winnie?"
     
                  "Oh, Reena Trump made a pig's ear of her pie ce and her friends say she ought to have another go because she was so nervous. "
     
                  " That's a shame."
     
                  "And Virago Johnson ran off 'cos her weather spell went wrong.