by Holly Bell
‘Oo-oo!’
Amanda turned, thinking it could only be one of two people.
‘’Ello dearie,’ said the lollipop lady. ‘You recovered from your ordeal?’
‘Yes, I’m really all better, thank you, Sylvia.’
‘I thought so when I saw you at the ball, dancin’ away. You and the inspector. You lookin’ so luvely and ’im ever so ’andsome. Who’da thought it, eh? ’Im bein’ a policeman ’n all. But I was wotchin’ you. Oo, you do dance well together, you and your inspector.’
‘He’s not my inspector,’ replied Amanda robotically.
At which, abruptly, the lollipop lady stood still. Amanda halted in surprise.
‘Oh,’ said Sylvia, and patted Amanda’s cheek kindly, ‘I rather think he is, dearie.’
The lady departed briskly across the street, leaving her young friend standing, staring after her.
‘See you later,’ called Sylvia with cheery wave behind her.
Amanda gave a moment’s consideration to the lollipop lady’s assertion, then dismissed it, shaking her head in wonder at the incurably speculative nature of her fellow Sunken Madleyists.
‘Ah well,’ she said to Tempest tolerantly. ‘If it makes them happy.’
After a few more paces, Amanda heard another voice behind her calling her name and turned to see the librarian hurrying up the road.
‘Mrs Pagely, please don’t rush. Do you need me for something?’
‘No, no, dear. It’s just that Joan said you were heading for your crow’s nest and I thought you might like to take this with you.’ The librarian was holding out a faded black, cloth-bound book. ‘Just be careful with it and bring it back when you’ve finished with it.’
Amanda looked at the title. There’s a Small Hotel – obscure hostelries of London 1820 -1870 by Laurence Heart and Richard Rojers. Somewhat mystified, she looked at Mrs Pagely. ‘Erm?’
‘It mentions Percy Dunkley, the one that the Big Barn incident was about, do you remember? In Good Manors of Hertfordshire?’
‘Oh yes.’
‘See? Jonathan has marked the page. He found the book in the stacks. Both of us would swear blind that we’ve never seen this book before, but Jonathan always says that the library basement is a very odd place. He keeps meaning to tell you about it, but something else always comes up. But never mind. You take it with you.’
‘Thank you, to both of you! I’ll drop it back after lunch.’
Amanda and Tempest continued their progress up to the ruins, and climbed to a place above the old night stairs that Amanda had shored up to make a little platform. From here, she looked over the village and the trees to the countryside around.
They shared their midday meal, enjoying the mild warmth of the sun. Finally, Amanda moved the lunchbox off her knees, and replaced it with the book from Mrs Pagely.
‘Let’s see what this is all about.’ She opened it at the bookmark and at once the relevant paragraph caught her eye:
One hotel of particular note is that opened in Thiberton Street by Percy Dunkley in 1836. It was celebrated locally for its excellent dinners and assiduous maintenance of the building. This establishment was remarkable in that preparation of the meals was overseen by the owner himself who was a chef of considerable skill. The successful running of the hotel, Mr Dunkley attributed to his wife, Sophia Dunkley née Aldenham, whose business acumen was learned in India from her father during his work there in an administrative capacity. Mr and Mrs Percy Dunkley eschewed naming their enterprise after the family and, instead, called it The Golden Thimble Hotel.
‘Oh how wonderful, Tempest! And yet … this book seems to have just appeared … as though … it had just been written? … How very, very strange … Never mind, the fact is that Sophy and Percy were happy and fulfilled their dream.’ Amanda put the book aside.
‘And now for the parcel from Aunt Amelia.’ She carefully undid the orange ribbon and opened the matching wrapping paper. Inside, was a board-backed envelope. Curiously, Amanda pulled up the flap and drew out a thin, A4 booklet, yellowed with age and printed upon the cover: Roses of Picardy, 1916. Lyrics by Fred E Weatherly. It was signed by the composer, Haydn Wood and priced 1/9, one shilling and ninepence.
‘It’s the song,’ she declared to Tempest with delight. ‘The one we danced to at the ball and kept hearing. How thoughtful. What a lovely present!’ Amanda continued to study the pages. ‘Oh he’s signed it … what?’ She laughed. Thomas had written on the back, in the lower right hand corner:
To my esteemed secretary and chauffeur. T.
At last, Amanda put it back in the envelope and laid it on the seat. Tempest sat close to her. Somehow both he and the song brought comfort as her mind turned to matters that could not be ignored.
The mystery of the murder of her blood relations on that day their minibus plummeted over that cliff on the Cornish coast. Could Granny really have been responsible? Or was it a Flamgoyne plot to assassinate every Cardiubarn with a magical gift?
Why did she have this sinking feeling about her sessions with the healer that would begin soon? There was a chance his skill would bring a cure for her asthma… the possibilities that would open up ... but why did she have this profound doubt that it would make her well?
Then there were the new memories of the Cardiubarn portrait gallery, the inspector’s theory of eugenics, and that recurrent vision of walking down those stone steps with her great-grandmother and the something she needed to tell Granny ….
On top of all of this, there was Ryan … spying … for whom? And why? The answers were most likely the least palatable ones. He could be annoying, but Amanda had associated him with normality; his golden hair and easy smile, summer days, cricket. And now … she would have to be careful … far more careful, about him, about everything. For the Flamgoynes, they were coming, coming out of the West, out of Cornwall, for her village, her people.
And yet, Aunt Amelia, Granny, Grandpa, Uncle Mike, they all seemed to have faith in her that she would find a way to defend all that she loved from the approaching onslaught. And there, somewhere down among the houses and cottages and shops and lanes, was Viola. Viola who would be the beginning, the beginning of those who would gather to the standard.
There is always hope, thought Amanda. But now she had more than hope. She would draw her army — no, her Home Guard — to her. She would find a way to defeat the Flamgoynes.
Tempest climbed up onto her shoulder and she stood and faced the West.
‘Bring it on,’ said Amanda Cadabra.
The End
Author’s Note
Thank you for reading Amanda Cadabra and The Flawless Plan. I hope you enjoyed your visit to Sunken Madley both present and past.
Whether this was your first time in the village or your second or even third trip, I would love you to tell me your thoughts about your journey through the book. And if you could write a review, that would be of tremendous help. You can post it on the e-store where you bought the book (if you’re not sure how to post a review on Amazon, there is a how-to on my website) or on Facebook, Twitter or your social platform of choice. It would mean a great deal to me.
Best of all would be if you dropped me a line at [email protected] so we can connect in person. If there is a character you especially liked or anything you would like more of, please let me know. Amanda Cadabra Book 4 is in the pipeline, and I want to make sure that all of the things that you liked about the first three books make an appearance for you.
For tidbits on the world of Sunken Madley and to keep up with news of the continuing adventures of our heroes Amanda, Tempest, Granny and Grandpa, Trelawney and Hogarth, visit www.amandacadabra.com, where you can also request to enter the VIP Readers Group or sign up for the newsletter to stay in touch and find out about the next sequel. The VIP Readers is a limited numbers group. Members are invited to receive and review an advance copy of the next book. If you are one of that treasured number, thank you for reading, evaluating and giving
your precious feedback.
If Tempest has endeared himself to you and reminds you of your cat or one you know, in any way, you are invited to enter a photograph in The Tempest Competition. Details are at http://amandacadabra.com/the-tempest-competition/
You can also find me on:
Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/Holly-Bell-923956481108549/ (Please come and say hello. It makes my day when a reader does that.)
Twitter at https://twitter.com/holly_b_author
Pinterest https://www.pinterest.co.uk/hollybell2760/
Instagram https://www.instagram.com/hollybellac
Google+ at https://plus.google.com/u/0/110373044289244156044
Goodreads at https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18387493.Holly_Bell
and Bookbub at https://www.bookbub.com/profile/holly-bell
See you soon.
About the Author
Cat adorer and chocolate lover, Holly Bell is a photographer and video maker when not writing. Whilst being an enthusiastic novel reader, Holly has had a lifetime's experience in writing non-fiction.
Holly devoured all of the Agatha Christie books long before she knew that Miss Marple was the godmother of the Cosy Mystery. Her devotion to JRR Tolkien's Lord of the Rings meant that her first literary creation in this area would have to be a cosy paranormal.
Holly lives in the UK and is a mixture of English, Cornish, Welsh and other ingredients. Her favourite animal is called Bobby. He is a black cat. Purely coincidental. Of course.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to Flora Gatehouse, for constant support, keen-eyed and intuitive editing and publicity, to Judes Gerstein, my Canadian gem of an advance reader, for noticing issues and offering ideal solutions, to Katherine Otis for her invaluable fine-tooth-combed proof-reading of the manuscript, to Dana, Mary and other wonderful VIP Readers Group members for their supportive comments and suggestions, and to Katherine DeMoure-Aldrich for round-the-world inspiration and feedback from wherever her travels take her. Thank you to Joe for his loyal support on Facebook. Thanks to Pravin Jootun and Philippa Shallcrass for their encouragement during the writing process.
Thanks are also due to the rector of St Mary the Virgin, Monken Hadley whose fund of information helped me to shape the village of ‘Sunken Madley’, and to Stephen Tatlow, the Director of Music there and the churchwardens for their kind welcome and delight at being fictionalised.
Praise and thanks go out to my talented and immensely patient illustrator Erik Patricio Lúa (Instagram: tripaciolua) for his beautiful book cover art. Your dedication to the project was truly remarkable. Thanks and admiration are also extended to my map maker Methmeth who skillfully turns my sketches and mockups into exquisite works of art.
Thanks to Marcus Sands of Parliament Hill Roofing for his indispensable advice on the structural integrity of the fictional Sunken Madley church hall.
Greatly appreciated was the generous advice and research leads provided by Dr Susie West and Matthew Steele for the design of the church crypt and the secular uses of the church hall.
Also due are thanks to Tanja Slijepčević of Books Go Social for her expert advice and unfailing assistance with spreading the word about both this book and the Amanda Cadabra series.
Thank you, in fact, to all those without whose support this book would not have been possible.
Finally, in whatever dimension they are currently inhabiting, thanks go out to my cat who inspired Tempest, and to my grandfather and brother for Perran and Trelawney. Your magic endures.
About the Language Used in the Story
Please note that to enhance the reader’s experience of Amanda's world, this British-set story, by a British author, uses British English spelling, vocabulary, grammar and usage, and includes local and foreign accents, dialects and a magical language that vary from different versions of English as it is written and spoken in other parts of our wonderful, diverse world.
Questions for Reading Clubs
What did you like best about the book?
Which character did you like best? Is there one with whom you especially identified?
Whom would you like to know more about and why?
If you made a movie of the book, whom would you cast and in what parts? Have you chosen any recasting over Book 1 or Book 2? Would you still have the same actress play, Amanda, for example, as you did in Book 1?
Did the book remind you of any others you have read, apart from the first and second books in the series, either in the same or another genre?
Did you think the cover fitted the story? If not, how would you redesign it?
How unique is this story?
Which characters grew and changed over the course of this book, and over the first two books and this one, and which remained the same?
What feelings did the book evoke?
What place in the book would you most like to visit, and why? Any additional ones to Book 1 and Book 2?
Was the setting one that felt familiar or relatable to you? Why or why not? If you read the first or first and second book, how at home did you feel revisiting the locations?
What did you think of the continuity between the first book and this sequel?
Was the book the right length? If too long, what would you leave out? If too short, what would you add?
How well do you think the title conveyed what the book is about?
If you could ask Holly Bell just one question, what would it be?
How well do you think the author created the world of the story?
Which quotes or scenes did you like the best, and why?
Was the author just telling an entertaining story or trying as well to communicate any other ideas? If so, what do think they were?
Did the book change how you think or feel about any thing, person or place? Did it help you to understand someone or yourself better?
What do you think the characters will do after the end of the book? Would you want to read the sequel?
Glossary
As the story is set in an English village, and written by a British author, some spellings or words may be unfamiliar to some readers living in other parts of the English-speaking world. Please find here a list of terms used in the book. If you notice any that are missing, please let me know on [email protected] so the can be included in a future edition.
British English
American English
Spelling conventions
—ise for words like surprise, realise
—ize for words like surprize, realize
—or for words like colour, honour
—our for words like color, honor
—tre for words like centre, theatre
—ter for words like center, theater
Mr Mrs Dr
Mr. Mrs. Dr.
Double for words like traveller, counsellor
A1000
A Road - a main road that is not a highway
A4
8.26" by 11.69"
Biscuit
Cookie
Boiler suit
Coveralls
Bonnet
Hood
Brickie
Bricklayer
Boot
Trunk
Car Park
Parking lot
Coffin
Casket
Coupla
Couple of
Corner shop
Small grocery store
Cornish pasty
Disk of puff pastry filled with meat and
vegetables then folded and sealed at the edges.
Crumpet
Cake with holes in, served toasted with butter
Cuppa
Cup of tea
Curtains
Drapes
Defence
Different from
Defense
Different than
Elevenses
A tea break at around 11 am
Eyrie
Aerie
Fridge
/>
Refrigerator
Garden
Yard
Gastropub
Pub that serves high-quality food
Glammed up
Dressed up
Grey
Gray
Headmaster
Principal
Hun
Shortened form of 'honey'
Jam roly-poly
A flat layer of suet pudding, spread with jam and rolled up
Jewellery
Jewelry
Jumper
Sweater
Lolly
Slang for money
Loos
Restroom
Marmalade roll
Cake dough spread with marmalade and
baked in the oven
Mobile phone
Cell phone
Moggy, Mog
Slang for 'cat'.
Momentarily
For a moment
Motorway - M
Expressway, Highway
Ninepence
Nine old pennies UK pre-decimal currency
Practise
Practice
Pavement
Sidewalk
Pub
Quiet, family friendly, coffee-shop style bar
Real-deal
Sceptically
Scone
Genuine