Cathy awoke in the night. And after trying to escape, she'd finally fallen asleep on the floor, huddled in a ball. She awoke a second time to the loud crowing of a cockerel outside and the early morning sun.

Her body ached as she stood. From the window, she could see the perfect gardens and clear sky. Who would believe a monster lived here? If she wanted to escape, she had to discover where she was. She wouldn't live the rest of her life as a servant. Wiping the salt from her cheeks; she crept towards the exit.

The door opened from the other side.

"Good, you're awake. You'll need to know your way around, so you had better follow me," Hex said, by way of a greeting, and motioned for her to follow him.

Cathy rushed to keep up.

They travelled from room to room, from corridor to corridor. He opened the doors, allowed her to look inside, and quickly closed them.

"You won't need to enter these rooms except to clean them," Hex said. And looking Cathy up and down, he shook his head. "You're a strange creature. I have never seen such untidy hair. You will wear it tied up at all times." He grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged it.

"And what's with that awful dress?" he added.

"It's a nightdress," she answered. Her cheeks flushed with heat. Suddenly, she felt self-conscious.

"Nightdress... in the daytime?" Hex looked at her sideways. "Oh, poor creature, you are ridiculous. It was your lucky day when I took pity on you and brought you home. But make no mistake, Cathy. I can make your life awfully unpleasant if you disobey me."

Cathy didn't bother to remind him that when he stole her from Topsy Turvey House it had been night-time in the human realm, so a nightdress was perfectly normal attire. She just kept quiet and followed him to the very top of the house. Right up into the attic.

At the furthest door, along the longest corridor, he stopped and whispered into her ear, "This room is yours. In you go."

She stepped past him and opened the door. Pigeons fluttered between the rafters and the stench drifting out from the room could sour milk. Never had Cathy smelt anything so disgusting. Her hand shot up to cover her nose and mouth.

"Welcome to your new home. There's a change of clothing on your bed. Get changed and meet me downstairs."

  The sorcerer turned, his cloak billowing behind him as he headed along the gloomy corridor and disappeared down the stairs.

The dress laid on her bed was grey and tatty to match her room. And when she put it on, it itched terribly. In the corner of her bedroom was a dressing table with a brush, comb, and mirror. Cathy picked up the hairbrush and brushed her hair until it was smooth, and tying it into a ponytail, she went to find the sorcerer.

"At last." Hex studied her appearance. "You look a little better. I suppose you'll do."

Hex promptly set off again, his long boots squeaking on the stone floor. Cathy followed closely. It would be easy for her to get lost in the gloom.

The sorcerer lifted his hand and clicked his fingers. A dozen candles flared, lighting up the dingy passageway. Cathy had witnessed nothing like this. Flo always told her stories about goblins who studied the art of conjuring, witches who ate children, and fairies, gifted with magic. Could Hex be a villainous fairy?

Along the corridor were many doors. She counted them in her head. One... two... three... four... five... and when they reached the sixth door, Hex stopped, pulling the same gold key from his pocket. He placed it in the lock and opened the door.

"In you go."

Cathy stepped into the room and gasped. She'd never seen such a filthy kitchen. Even Flo's kitchen wasn't this bad. There were stacks of dirty plates and bowls on every worktop, and glasses half filled with red wine. Flour covered the wooden table and vegetable peelings lay rotting on the kitchen floor.

"My last servant had to go. I cannot abide slovenly behaviour. You will clean this awful mess, and then you can prepare my breakfast," Hex said.

"It'll take me forever," she whined, without thinking.

Hex frowned at her impertinence.

"Not if you use this." Hex held his hand out, palm up and a silver tin appeared. He handed it to Cathy.

"What do I do with it?"

"Figure it out. You have two hours to get this mess cleaned. If you cannot, you'll go the same way as my last servant." Hex left, slamming the door behind him.

Cathy placed the tin on the table. It was impossible. She slumped into a chair, resting her head in her hands.

"Good morning," a cheerful voice called from over by the kitchen window.

Cathy squinted to see who had spoken. The window was open and the net curtains fluttered in the breeze.

"Who said that?" she asked, standing.

"Now, don't trouble yourself. I'm only passing through." A rustling noise came from inside the bin. Cathy stepped behind the chair, putting distance between her and whoever was rummaging through the rubbish.

"What are you?"

"My name is Tibbles. I'm a cat," the voice said. A banana peel landed on the floor in front of the fireplace. "I live near here and I'm hungry, so when I saw your window open, I thought... why not stop by and see what delights you wasteful creatures have thrown out?"

"You can talk?" Cathy asked, thinking she must be losing her mind.

"How rude," the cat said. Eggshell and two mouldy tomatoes struck the wall by the kitchen sink, landing with a plop on the worktop. "Of course I can talk."

"If you're hungry, I'll make you something to eat," Cathy suggested. As weary as she felt, she couldn't very well let Tibbles eat rotten food.

Tibbles popped her head out of the bin. A potato peel hung from her black and white fur. "Really?" she asked.

"Yes, of course. It's no bother." Cathy walked over to the large cast-iron stove. Lighting the wood, she placed a frying pan on top. And cracking three eggs into a bowl, she whisked in cream, adding salt and pepper. She melted a knob of butter before pouring the egg into the frying pan.

Tibbles watched her every move, her eyes wide, and clambering out of the bin, she darted across the kitchen and jumped onto the table, where she stayed perfectly still.

Cathy was so busy cooking she didn't notice the tiny, glittering sparkles that twinkled above the cat's head, or the magical glow from her bushy tail. And by the time Cathy tipped the omelette onto a plate and poured a bowl of milk, the strange magic had vanished.

"There we are... how's that?" Cathy asked with a smile.

"Better than eating scraps from the bin." Tibbles tucked into the plate of food as though she hadn't eaten for days. And when her plate was empty, she lapped up the milk. Fit to burst, the cat collapsed on the tabletop, laying on her back and patting her bulging tummy.

"That was delicious. I'm most grateful. What is your name, young lady?"

"Cathy."

"How did you end up here?" Tibbles asked and rolled onto her side, resting her head on her paw.

"Hex tricked me into drinking a binding potion so I cannot leave. I'm trapped in this awful house."

"Hmm... you are not the first." Tibbles observed Cathy with interest. And Cathy sat thinking what beautiful large green eyes and lovely long whiskers Tibbles had.

"I have to clean this entire kitchen in less than an hour—And I'll never do it. Hex will murder me."

The cat sprang to her feet and with her nose almost touching Cathy's, she said, "If you want to last here, you'll need to use your head." Tibbles tapped her head with her paw and winked.

"What do I have to do?" Cathy asked, sitting up straighter. This cat may be a useful ally.

"Open that tin for me." Tibbles crossed her paws and waited for Cathy to do as she was told.

Cathy unscrewed the lid and placed the tin on the table, coughing at the terrible smell. She wasn't sure how something so smelly could help her clean.

Tibbles picked up a discarded cloth with her mouth and dipped it into the waxy substance. Jumping over to the sink; she rubbed the cloth over the taps.

Cathy waited for something to happen. "Now what?"

"Patience," Tibbles whispered.

At first, the dirty plates rattled.

Then they shuffled.

And suddenly they stacked themselves, one on top of another, next to the sink.

The taps turned on and soap shot out of the bottle, landing in the water. One by one, the plates, dishes, and glasses were lifted into the air before falling into the sink. Once they were clean, they settled themselves on the plate rack to dry.

"How?" she asked.

"Magic, my dear Cathy. And if you learn how it works, you'll be smarter than most, and your chances of surviving here increase." Tibbles dropped the cloth in front of her and nodded toward it.

"Why are you helping me?" Cathy asked.

"Let's just say you have potential. There's something about you that makes me think you're destined for more than emptying chamber pots and scrubbing floors."

"Thank you, Tibbles," Cathy said, with a tremendous sense of relief. She picked up the cloth, dipped it into the tin, and began smearing the wax on every surface.

The bin emptied itself. The flour vanished, and the rotting food disappeared. And within half an hour, the kitchen was spotless. The copper kettle boiled on the stove, a fire crackled in the grate and four muffins were toasting.

"I'll be going now. Don't go getting yourself killed. I'll be back tomorrow morning for breakfast," Tibbles said, climbing onto the windowsill and disappearing outside.

Heavy footsteps approached the door to the kitchen, and with a clatter, it opened. Hex looked around the room.

"Well, I'm surprised. I didn't think you had it in you. You're smarter than you look."

The sorcerer's words were almost a compliment.