The Power of Poppy Pendle
The Power of Poppy Pendle
“PENDLE PRODUCED A BOX of Twirlies for a snack—chemical-tasting sponge cake bars filled with fake cream—and poured out three large glasses of Super Savers cola.
“What time are we meeting Viv for dinner?” Mr. Pendle asked his wife. “Because there’s a show on television later about tracing your magical roots back to the Vikings. Might be fun.”
“I said I’d call her when Poppy’s finished her homework,” Mrs. Pendle said, biting off a chunk of Twirlie bar. “We’re not going anywhere till that’s... done,” she added firmly. “Homework first, and it looks like there’s plenty of it tonight, right, Poppy?” Edith Pendle sat down at the table next to her daughter and frowned at the pile of books. “You’ve got a lot to do, sweetie.” Poppy was halfway through a paper on wand technique. She bit her lip in frustration, trying to ignore her mother. Mrs. Pendle reached out a hand and picked up Poppy’s creative magic journal.MoreLess
“What time are we meeting Viv for dinner?” Mr. Pendle asked his wife. “Because there’s a show on television later about tracing your magical roots back to the Vikings. Might be fun.”
“I said I’d call her when Poppy’s finished her homework,” Mrs. Pendle said, biting off a chunk of Twirlie bar. “We’re not going anywhere till that’s... done,” she added firmly. “Homework first, and it looks like there’s plenty of it tonight, right, Poppy?” Edith Pendle sat down at the table next to her daughter and frowned at the pile of books. “You’ve got a lot to do, sweetie.” Poppy was halfway through a paper on wand technique. She bit her lip in frustration, trying to ignore her mother. Mrs. Pendle reached out a hand and picked up Poppy’s creative magic journal.MoreLess
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