by Adele Abbott
“No, of course not. Its actual name is Grande Tramagne, hence the ‘GT’. No one calls it that though. Everyone calls it Ghost Town or GeeTee.”
“What’s it like there?”
“Just like any other city except the only people who live there are ghosts.”
“Are there houses and shops, and roads?”
“Yes, all of those.”
“Are there human ghosts in GeeTee too or is it just sups?”
“Both. Sups lose their powers once they become ghosts, so everyone is pretty much the same.”
“And the only way that the living can see a ghost is if the ghost attaches itself to the human?”
“More or less, although a powerful witch can extend that for a short period of time like Grandma did at my wedding. But generally, yes. Then of course there are the human psychics. A few humans are born with the power to see and communicate with ghosts, but they are few and far between. Most of the ones you hear about are charlatans.”
“That must be pretty weird for them.”
“I imagine the worst part is that no one will believe them. There are even rumours that a few exceptionally powerful psychics are able to move between the human world and GeeTee, but I’m not sure I believe that.”
“Wow. It’s hard to take it all in. If I think of any more questions, can I—? “
“Just give me a shout.”
***
My phone rang.
“Gooder!”
It was my favourite curly, blonde detective.
“Hi, Sue.”
“Detective Shay to you.”
“What can I do for you, Detective Shay?”
“There have been complaints.”
“Ignore them. You’re doing a great job.”
“Complaints about you. Residents of Tregar Court have reported that you’ve been harassing them.”
“Which residents?”
“Never mind. You shouldn’t have been there at all. Murder is police business. Stick to what you’re good at. Isn’t there a missing dog you could be tracking down?”
I took a deep breath, and somehow resisted the urge to let her know what I really thought of her. “I informed Jack that I’d be working on this case.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m your point of contact now. Is that clear?”
“Crystal.”
“This is your last warning. Next time I won’t be so understanding.”
“Have a nice day, Detective Shay.”
Who did she think she was, and why was Maxwell allowing her to talk to me like that?
Chapter 10
The day of the speed knitting event had arrived. As usual, Grandma had ramped up the marketing to fever pitch. The man-size balls of wool were once again freaking out the residents of Washbridge as they handed out their flyers. The Bugle had a small article on the front page, and there had been coverage on local radio as well as on Wool TV.
It was scheduled to start at ten am with the winner being announced just after two pm. I’d told Mrs V she needn’t come into the office, but she was there bright and early as usual.
“Are you okay?” I asked, but I already knew the answer.
“I’ll just be glad when it’s all over.”
“How is your sister?”
“Oh, G loves all the attention. She absolutely adores the limelight. She spent most of last night practising her autograph.”
“You never know, you might win.”
“Against G? Not a chance. She’s beaten me at everything ever since we were kids. She’ll get more satisfaction from beating me than she will from actually winning the event.”
“How long is she staying for?”
“She’s going home tonight, so at least I have that to look forward to.” Mrs V sighed. “Will you come along and support me?”
Four hours in Ever A Wool Moment would feel like a lifetime. I had planned to give the place a wide berth until this fiasco was over, but how could I say no?
“Sure, I’ll be there.”
“Thanks, Jill. A few members of my club have promised to come too, but I have a feeling they’ll be outnumbered by G’s fans.”
My phone rang. It was Aunt Lucy.
“Jill, I’m sorry to disturb you.”
She didn’t sound herself, and my first thought was that something had happened to Lester. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you think you could come over? I wouldn’t normally ask, but—”
“What is it? Is Lester all right?”
“Lester? He’s fine. It’s the twins.”
“Are they okay?”
“Err—yes, they’re not ill or anything like that. It’s just—if you could come over it would be easier to show you than to explain over the phone.”
“Okay. I’ll come now.”
“Go straight to Cuppy C. I’ll meet you there.”
I told Mrs V I’d been called away on an urgent case, but promised that I’d be back in time for the knitting competition.
***
I was getting much better at using magic to travel between the two worlds. My early attempts had been painful (I’d landed with a thud on my backside) and inaccurate (I’d never been able to predict exactly where I’d land). If Grandma had taught me anything, it was the importance of focus. Now, whenever I travelled between Washbridge and Candlefield, I made sure to concentrate on the exact location I wanted to reach.
The first thing I noticed when I arrived at Cuppy C was that neither of the twins was in the shop.
“Where are they?” I called to one of the harassed assistants.
She gestured that they were upstairs. Perhaps they were both ill and needed me to help out? Judging by the queues, someone would need to give the overworked assistants a hand.
Aunt Lucy was waiting for me at the top of the stairs.
“What’s happened? Where are they?”
“Your grandmother. That’s what’s happened.”
Aunt Lucy led the way into Amber’s bedroom where both girls were sitting on the bed. Their faces were red and blotchy from crying. Neither of them had changed out of their pyjamas, and both of them were wearing knitted beanie hats.
“Amber? Pearl? What’s happened?”
“I hate her!” Pearl screamed.
“How could she do it?” Amber began to cry.
“What? What has she done?”
“Show her,” Aunt Lucy said to the girls.
“I can’t.” Pearl was crying now too.
“You have to. Show her.”
The girls bowed their heads, and then slowly removed their hats.
“No! What?” I was too stunned to put together a coherent sentence.
The girls quickly pulled the hats back over their heads to hide the donkey’s ears that had replaced their own.
“She’s pure evil.” Amber sobbed.
Aunt Lucy touched my shoulder and gestured for me to follow her. Once we were in my bedroom, she closed the door behind us.
“Why would she do something like that?” I said.
“Revenge. She knew it was the twins who’d put the cream cake on the sofa.”
“Even so, this is a bit much isn’t it? It was only a joke.”
“Grandma doesn’t do jokes—particularly if they’re at her expense.”
“How long will the spell last?”
Aunt Lucy shook her head. “That’s just it. She says it will last for a year.”
“That’s ridiculous. Can’t you reverse it?”
“I can’t reverse a spell cast by a level six witch. The only person who can reverse it is Grandma or a more powerful witch.”
“Is there one?”
“Not that I know of. There are other level six witches, and it’s possible that there may be a more powerful one, but there’s an unwritten code that they do not interfere with each other’s spells.”
“What are we going to do?”
“That’s why I asked you to come over. I want you to try to persuade Grandma to
reverse the spell.”
“Me? She won’t listen to me. She hates me.”
“She most certainly doesn’t hate you.”
“She does an awfully good impression then.”
“She respects you.”
“She has a strange way of showing it.”
“Will you try? Please.”
“Of course. I just don’t think—I’ll try.”
The girls must have been eavesdropping at the door.
“You have to make her reverse it,” Amber said.
“Please, Jill.” Pearl hugged her sister. “Tell her we promise never to do anything like that ever again.”
“Yeah.” Amber sobbed. “Tell her we’ll be good.”
***
Ever A Wool Moment was heaving with people. Mrs V and Mrs G were seated at separate tables in the window. Mrs G was all smiles—Mrs V, not so much. Grandma was also in the window, standing in between the two tables posing for the photographers who were lined up outside. I’d never seen so many paparazzi in one place—all this for a knitting competition!
Grandma raised a hand to silence the crowd. “We start in five, four, three, two, one. Go!”
The crowd erupted. There were dozens of voices urging on Mrs G, and just a few encouraging a very unhappy Mrs V.
“Can I have a word?” I’d managed to fight my way through the crowd to Grandma.
She gestured to the small store room at the back of the shop.
“It’s a good crowd.” She scratched her wart with a crooked finger. “Takings should be through the roof today.”
“I’m not here to talk about your stupid shop.” Whoops! Great opening move, Jill.
“I’m sorry? What did you just say?”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just a little upset.”
“Why’s that? Love life still in the toilet?”
“Why would you do that to Amber and Pearl?”
“Is that all?” She cackled. “I thought it was something important.”
“It is important. You’ve turned their—”
“I know what I did. I think their new ears suit them.”
“Reverse the spell!”
Her smile melted away. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
Oh boy. “I asked you to reverse the spell.”
“It didn’t sound like you were asking. It sounded like you were telling me what to do.”
“I’m sorry. Please will you reverse the spell?”
“No. Those girls have to be taught a lesson. They should respect their elders and betters.”
“What they did—it was just—a practical joke. Maybe they shouldn’t have done it, but—”
“There’s no maybe about it.”
“Okay. They shouldn’t have done it, but that doesn’t mean they deserve to suffer like this. For a whole year?”
“I had thought of making it permanent. I must be getting soft in my old age.”
“You have to reverse it.”
“What have I told you? I don’t have to do anything.” She glared at me, and then the evil smile returned. “But, I’m a reasonable woman.”
And I’m the Prime Minister.
“Tell you what I’ll do,” she said. “We’ll have a wager on the speed knitting competition. If your horse wins—”
“Please don’t refer to Mrs V as a horse.”
“If Mrs V wins, then I’ll reverse the spell. If she loses, then the spell stands. I can’t be fairer than that.”
Grandma knew exactly what she was doing. She knew she was backing the favourite.
“That doesn’t work for me,” I said.
“Oh well.” She turned to leave.
“Reverse the spell or I won’t take part in the Levels Competition.”
If I thought I’d seen Grandma angry before, I’d been wrong.
“What did you say?”
Any moment now, she’d cast a spell on me, and it wouldn't be only my ears that were transformed.
“I said—” It was hard to concentrate with her wart so close to my face. “If you don’t reverse the spell, I won’t take part in the Levels Competition.”
“What makes you think you have a choice? I can make sure you’re there.”
“But you can’t force me to try. I’ll throw it.”
Grandma pointed her crooked finger in my face. Any moment now, she’d rip my eye out—and eat it probably.
“Six months.” She spat the words.
“What?”
“I’ll reduce the spell to six months.”
“You have to reverse it right now.”
“One week, and that’s my final offer.”
“Twenty four hours.”
“Forty eight.”
“Done.”
She took a step back but her gaze never once left my face.
“You can tell those girls that if they ever try anything like that again, I won’t be so understanding. And you—you’d better make sure you win the level two competition.”
With that, she left me standing alone in the store room. It took me a few seconds to realise the rhythmic thumping noise was my heart. I’d done it. I’d got her to reverse the spell, but at what price? What would she do to me if I blew it in the Levels Competition? That was way too scary to even think about.
I rang Aunt Lucy and gave her the good news.
“They’ll have to live with the ears for another two days though.”
“Thanks, Jill. Hold on while I tell the girls.”
I heard her call the twins, and then moments later—
“Thanks, Jill! Yay!”
“We owe you, Jill!”
“Did you hear that?” Aunt Lucy asked.
“Yeah. Tell them no more practical jokes on Grandma.”
“Don’t worry. They won’t make that mistake again. I hope we didn’t mess up your day.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m at Grandma’s shop. There’s a speed knitting competition between my PA, Mrs V, and her sister.”
“Hmm. That sounds—” She hesitated, searching for the right word. “Exciting?”
“Yeah. Next week she’s going to have the walls painted, and we’re all going to watch them dry.”
Aunt Lucy laughed. “Is your lady going to win?”
“Unlikely. Her sister seems to delight in beating Mrs V down.”
“That’s not very nice. I may be able to help. Listen—”
Chapter 11
As Mrs V and I were walking back to the office, she could hardly contain her delight.
“Did you see G’s face?” She laughed.
“She didn’t look happy.”
“Now she knows what it feels like to lose.”
“I thought there’d be a trophy or something for the winner,” I said.
“I don’t care about a trophy. Beating G is better than all the trophies in the world. Maybe now she’ll be a little more humble.”
“Do you really think so?”
“No. Not for more than a week or so anyway. Still, I don’t care. Every time she starts bragging, I’ll remind her of today.”
“We should buy champagne.”
“Not for me, thanks. I want to keep a clear head so I can savour every moment. Mind you, I didn’t think I was going to win. With only thirty minutes to go, she was well ahead. I almost threw in the towel.”
“You staged a great comeback.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Mrs V was bursting with pride. “Mind you, it helped that G kept dozing off in that last half hour. She must have pushed herself too hard.”
“Definitely. Poor pacing if you ask me.”
“It was still very close though.”
“It must have been. That’s why your sister asked for a re-measure.”
“Still the same outcome.” Mrs V smiled. “I took it by two inches. I just wished your grandmother had been there to see it.”
“Yeah, it’s a pity she got called away to do that TV interview. Still, I’m sure she’ll be in touch to offer her congratulatio
ns. Where is your sister by the way?”
“She decided to go home early. Pity.”
We both laughed.
***
Back at my flat, Mr Ivers looked in contemplative mood—perhaps it was love.
“Evening, Mr Ivers.”
“Oh, hello there.”
“How’s things?”
“Oh, you know. Same as usual. I have a double-bill of movies lined up for tomorrow.”
“Will you be taking anyone with you?”
“No, I hadn’t planned to, but if you’re—”
“No, no. I thought maybe you and Betty—”
“The woman is a bore.”
“Really?” Pot, kettle.
“All she talks about is sea shells. She spent two hours talking me through her collection. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” So much for my career as a matchmaker.
“You’re welcome to come to the movies with me, Jill.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got things to do—lots of things—important things. Got to rush, bye.”
***
Two days later, Jackie Langford came to my office at ten o’clock, as arranged. I’d promised her an update on the ‘Lift of Death’ murder, but had precious little to tell her.
“I’ve viewed the CCTV. As reported in the press, there are no actual images of the murder itself. The only explanation I’ve been able to come up with so far, which makes any sense, is that Alan had already been stabbed when he stepped into the lift.”
“Wouldn’t the other people in the lift have noticed?”
“I would have expected them to, but apparently they didn’t realise anything was wrong until he collapsed. I’ve spoken to all of the residents as well as some of the staff. To be perfectly honest with you, I’m no further along. All of the residents appear to keep themselves to themselves. There may be some kind of relationship between two of the single residents, but there’s nothing to suggest that had any connection to the murder. There’s also a question mark over how some of the residents can afford to live in a place like Tregar Court. I’m going to look a little more closely at that to see if it turns up anything of interest.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Jackie said.