Going to Kai for Junket

Moonman's favourite food was junket.

He would announce it with great satisfaction — "I am going to Kai for my junket."

A junket in Kai? A funny place to take a junket, Kaitangita.

"No," said Moonman patiently. "The white-haired witch who lives there is famous for her big custardy puddings of junket. There is no junket like it."

The only trouble, he explained, leaning forward with the gravity of someone sharing hard-won wisdom, was that witches were notoriously difficult to pin down.

They had the best of intentions. They would agree wholeheartedly, set the milk to warm, and then — quite suddenly — get called away. A crow at the window. A wind from the wrong direction. Something urgent and unnamed.

"They are flighty," said Moonman, shaking his head fondly.

The trick, he had learned, was to arrive unannounced and stay close to the kitchen.