The Courage of Cat Campbell by Natasha Lowe

éclair!”
    â€œBetter be a nice one,” Maxine snapped, as the bag crackled open and the éclair floated out. “What in heaven . . . ,” she shrieked, grabbing on to Mrs. Plunket’s arm. “Did you see that?” Maxine spluttered, watching the éclair fly around the bakery. “What on earth did that girl just do?”
    A collective gasp rose up from the customers because the éclair was now hovering near the ceiling, as if it were a giant, cream-stuffed bee.
    â€œI’ve got chills,” Maxine said, her head tilted upward and her mouth gaping open. “A flying cream cake is not normal! You know what this means, don’t you?”
    Cat was frozen behind the counter. She couldn’t bear to watch, but it was impossible to look away as the éclair swooped down, plunging right into Maxine’s mouth. There was a long moment of absolute silence, and then everyone started talking at once. Everyone except for Maxine, who couldn’t speak, and her mother, Cat noticed, who was holding on to the counter so tightly her knuckles had turned white.
    It was Marie Claire who took charge, walking over to Maxine and calmly handing her a tea towel. “Wipe yourself off with this,” she said, although Maxine seemed to be doing an excellent job gobbling up the éclair.
    â€œIf I hadn’t seen it myself I would not have believed it,” Maxine exclaimed, licking cream from around her mouth. She dabbed at her face with the tea towel, although there wasn’t much left to wipe up. Her small eyes sparkled with relish as she turned toward Poppy. “That daughter of yours has got the gift!”
    Cat’s mother didn’t answer. She was staring at Cat in disbelief. Disbelief that was rapidly changing to horror. “Where did you get that?” Poppy croaked, noticing the wand in Cat’s hand.
    â€œI . . . I found it yesterday in Gran and Grandpa’s attic,” Cat whispered. “That’s when I realized I’d got the gene. I wanted to tell you, but I know how you feel about magic and I was scared you might be mad.” Cat’s face flushed with heat.
    Maxine gave Mrs. Plunket a knowing look. “I can’t wait to tell her grandparents about this! Oh, my goodness, I just can’t!”
    â€œBut . . . but . . .” Poppy shook her head. “You’re eleven years old, Cat. That’s far too late for magic to show up. I was only a baby,” she whispered, covering her face with her hands. “This cannot be happening.”
    â€œOh, it most definitely is happening,” Maxine said firmly.
    â€œMamma, Ruthersfield Academy has a special entrance exam for Late Bloomers,” Cat rushed on, deciding that she might as well get this over with now. “I’ve been reading all about it, and I really, really want to try out for a place.” Her mother didn’t answer.
    â€œIt’s not as fancy as the seven-plus examination,” Maxine whispered to Mrs. Plunket in her not so quiet voice. Seven was the age most girls started attending Ruthersfield Academy. “Not that they’d take Cat anyway,” she continued. “Not after what happened.”
    â€œMamma?” Cat said. Her mother’s lip had started to tremble, and Cat suddenly felt nervous. The shop had gone silent again, but none of the customers were leaving.
    â€œNo.” Poppy shook her head, twisting the dishcloth round her hands. “No,” she said again. “You cannot try out for Ruthersfield.”
    Cat’s mouth went dry. “Mamma, how can you say that? This is my dream. You know I’ve always longed to be magic.” She stared at her mother. “And I’m happy,” Cat said. “I’ve never been so happy. You told me this morning that’s what mattered. I could do whatever I wanted with my life as long as it made me happy.”
    â€œBut not magic,”