Witch Is Where Squirrels Go Nuts (Witch P.I. Mystery Book 39)

by Adele Abbott

  As we walked out, Jack said to me in a hushed voice, “Did you notice that every one of the girls passed the exam?”

  “I did, yeah. I can’t say I’m surprised because that means all of the parents will have to fork out for the medals. Still, Florence enjoyed it and that’s all that matters. Are you okay to take her home because I need to nip back to the hotel.”

  “Didn’t you get to speak to the werewolves?”

  “I did, but I need to ask Grandma a few questions. I couldn’t do it before because I didn’t want to miss Florence’s exam.”

  “Okay, we’ll see you back home.”

  I rushed back to the hotel where the receptionist looked surprised to see me.

  “Can you tell my grandmother I need another quick word with her, please?”

  “I’m sorry, but she left a message that she wasn’t to be disturbed.”

  “I don’t care. Call her, please. You can blame me.”

  She hesitated but then made the call. “Mrs Millbright, I—err—yes, I know what you said but it’s your granddaughter. She’s in reception and she insisted I call you. Yes, okay.” She put down the phone. “Mrs Millbright says she can spare you two minutes. Do you know where her office is?”

  “Yeah, I know my way.”

  Grandma was looking at napkins.

  “This had better be urgent, Jill. I have to choose new napkins and I can’t decide which design to go with. Did you speak to the werewolves?”

  “Yes, I did. They were very helpful.”

  “Are you satisfied now that they had nothing to do with the murder?”

  “I think so. They seemed genuine enough.”

  “What brings you back here, then?”

  “I want to ask you some questions.”

  “Me? Don’t tell me you think I did it. Do you really think I’d hire you to find the murderer if I had?”

  “What do you mean, hire me? You haven’t hired me; you asked me to do you a favour.”

  “Don’t quibble. It’s the same difference.”

  “No, it’s not. If you’d hired me, you’d have to pay for my time. Do you intend to pay me?”

  “Of course not. I’m family.”

  “That’s what I thought. When was the last time you saw Miss Drinkwater?”

  “You know when it was. You saw us arguing out in the street.”

  “And you didn’t see her again after that?”

  “No. I didn’t trust myself to be in her company for another minute. I might have done something rash.”

  “Like killing her?”

  “I did not kill that woman!”

  “Okay, I believe you.”

  “Good, so stop wasting my time and go and find out who did.”

  ***

  “You realise that this is all your fault, Jack,” I said.

  “How is it my fault?”

  Jack was going to Oscar Riley’s house to look at his stamp collection. Florence and I were going back to the village hall. This time, to the basket-weaving society with Olga Riley.

  “It’s your fault because I’d told Olga we were already doing something this afternoon, but then you went and told Oscar that we weren’t.”

  “I don’t know what you’re complaining about. I’d much rather make a basket than have to spend two hours looking at stamps.”

  Florence came running into our bedroom. “Is it time to make a basket yet?”

  “Yes, darling, I’m afraid it is.”

  “I’m really excited, Mummy, aren’t you?”

  “Thrilled to bits.”

  “What kind of baskets do you think we’ll make?”

  “I honestly don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see. Why don’t you say goodbye to Daddy.”

  “Bye, Daddy.” She gave him a hug and a kiss. “I hope you like the stamps.”

  “Thanks, pumpkin. Enjoy your basket-weaving.” Florence went running downstairs. “I hope you enjoy basket-weaving too, Jill.”

  “I’m going to get you back for this. You see if I don’t.”

  As soon as Florence and I stepped into the village hall, Olga came running over to greet us.

  “Hi, Jill. Hello, Florence. Are you both excited to make your first basket?”

  “I am.” Florence beamed.

  Olga turned to me. “Jill?”

  “Absolutely. I can hardly wait.”

  “The group is divided into two sections: Michelle is in charge of the children. Shall we go and join them, Florence?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Michelle, who looked about thirteen or fourteen, greeted Florence with a smile. “Hi, Florence. Is this your first time at basket-weaving?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why don’t you take a seat next to Rachel and we’ll get you started?”

  Olga turned to me. “Come on, Jill, I’ll introduce you to the other ladies.” At the opposite side of the room, four tables had been pushed together to create one large one, around which were seated about a dozen women, the youngest of whom was at least ten years older than me. “Everybody, please welcome our new member.”

  Member? I didn’t remember anyone mentioning anything about becoming a member?

  “Hi.” I forced a smile.

  Olga continued, “Some of you probably already know Jill. She lives in the old watermill. Okay, Jill, I’m going to hand you over to Suzanne who looks after all our newbies. Suzanne, can you get Jill started?”

  “Of course.” Suzanne gestured for me to sit next to her. “So, Jill, have you done any basket-weaving before?”

  “No, never.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s very easy. Basically, the basket comprises of two parts: these long thin strips of reed, which act as spokes. And this round reed which you weave around the spokes. To get you started, I’ve already cut the spokes to size, and pinned them together. I’ve also woven in some yarn to give the basket shape.” She handed it to me. “All you need to do now is weave the round reed in and out of the spokes. It goes behind one, and then in front of the next. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah, that sounds straightforward enough.”

  But it wasn’t.

  For some reason, I just couldn’t get the hang of it. My reed ended up behind the spoke when it should have gone in front. And vice versa.

  “Are you okay, Jill?” Suzanne asked.

  “Err, yeah. Fine.”

  I undid the reed and started again, but it was just as bad the second time.

  About an hour later, Olga stood up and said, “Okay, everybody, that’s all we have time for today. How did Jill get on, Suzanne?”

  Suzanne glanced at the thing on the table in front of me. “Not too bad for a first attempt. I’m sure she’ll get the hang of it next time.”

  Next time? Not if I had anything to do with it.

  “Right, Jill,” Olga said. “Shall we go and see how Florence did?”

  “Sure.”

  I was hoping Florence wouldn’t be too disappointed with her first attempt at making a basket. I was only too aware of how difficult it was.

  When we got over to the children’s table, Olga said to Michelle, “How did Florence get on?”

  “Brilliantly. In fact, I’ve never known anyone take to it so well. Hold up your basket, Florence.”

  Florence held up an almost perfect basket, which put mine to shame.

  “That’s excellent, Florence,” Olga said. “Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

  “No, I haven’t, have I, Mummy?”

  “No, I can vouch for that.”

  Olga nodded her approval. “You’re clearly a natural, Florence. I hope you’ll both come back again.”

  “Can we, Mummy?”

  “Err, yeah. Sure.”

  As we made our way home, Florence said, “Where’s your basket, Mummy?”

  “Oh dear. I must have left it behind.”

  “Shall we go back and get it?”

  “No, it’s okay. It’ll still be there the next time we go.”

&
nbsp; As soon as we walked through the door, Florence ran over to Jack with her basket held high. “Daddy, look what I made.”

  “That’s fantastic, pumpkin. Did you need much help?”

  “No, I did it all by myself.”

  He turned to me. “Where’s yours?”

  “Mummy forgot to bring hers home.”

  “Did she now?” Jack eyed me suspiciously.

  Chapter 12

  “What on earth are you wearing?” I laughed.

  “These are my plus fours.” Jack was checking his appearance in the wardrobe mirror. “I think I look rather dapper.”

  “Couldn’t you find any to fit you? They barely reach below your knee.”

  “That’s how they’re supposed to look.”

  “But I can see all of your socks.”

  “I’ll have you know this is the last word in golf attire.”

  “More like the last word in golf dire.”

  “I don’t care what you say because I think I look good. I’m going to ask Florence for her opinion. I bet she likes them.”

  While Jack went downstairs in search of approval from his daughter, I looked through my wardrobe, trying to decide what to wear for our trip to Candle Sands. As I did, I noticed that the boxes, which I’d used to hide the spell book, had been moved around. I removed a couple of them and saw that the spell book was face down. And yet, I distinctly remembered putting it in the wardrobe face up.

  When I took it out and placed it on the bed, I noticed that the edge of some of the pages had a red hue. What was going on? I opened the book and flicked to the pages with red edges.

  That’s when I spotted it: A spell called ‘perfect baskets’.

  No wonder Florence’s basket had turned out so well—she must have used magic. The red marks on the edge of the pages were clearly strawberry jam. That also explained why she’d gobbled down her breakfast and disappeared upstairs. She hadn’t been practising her dancing. She’d been looking for a spell to help her with the basket-weaving.

  The crafty little madam!

  What should I do about it? I couldn’t just turn a blind eye, but neither did I want to spoil today’s trip to the seaside. I replaced the spell book and put the boxes back on top of it. I would talk to that daughter of mine when we got back home.

  When I got downstairs, Florence came running up to me. “Mummy, I don’t have a bucket and spade for the seaside.”

  “Don’t worry about it, darling. We’ll be able to buy them when we get there.”

  “But they might not sell them.”

  “They will, I promise. Why don’t you go and say goodbye to Daddy.”

  She ran over to Jack. “Bye, Daddy. We’re going to the seaside now.”

  “Before you go, pumpkin, tell Mummy what you said about my trousers.”

  “I think Daddy’s trousers are super nice. I like the way they look all puffy.”

  “I’m guessing you bribed her to say that. Come on, Florence, take my hand, and I’ll magic us to Candlefield.”

  We’d agreed to meet at Aunt Lucy’s house. When we arrived, they were all waiting by the gate.

  “We’re not late, are we?” I said.

  Aunt Lucy checked her watch. “No, you’re dead on time. Hi, Florence. Are you excited about going to the seaside?”

  “Yes. Mummy says we can buy a bucket and spade.”

  The two Lilys came over and gave their cousin a hug.

  “How are we getting there?” I asked. “On the train, like last time?”

  “No, we’ve booked a minibus,” Amber said. “In fact, it should be here any minute.”

  Sure enough, two minutes later, it came up the road and pulled up in front of us. The doors opened and the wizard behind the wheel shouted, “All aboard for Candle Sands.”

  “Come on, girls,” Aunt Lucy said. “Go and pick your seats.”

  Florence and the two Lilys rushed onto the bus and headed straight for the bench seat at the back. The twins sat on one side of the aisle, and Aunt Lucy and I sat on the other.

  “Is everyone ready to go to the seaside?” the driver shouted.

  “Yes!” the girls all chorused.

  “Right, off we go, then.”

  “What’s Jack doing today?” Aunt Lucy said.

  “Wearing stupid trousers.”

  “Sorry?”

  “He’s bought himself a pair of plus fours to go golfing in.”

  “I hope you didn’t tell him they looked stupid.”

  “Of course I did. You would have thought so too if you’d seen them.”

  After we’d been on the road for about an hour, the twins began laughing; very soon they were hysterical.

  “What’s the matter with you two?” Aunt Lucy said.

  “We were just thinking back to the last time we all went to Candle Sands,” Amber managed to say through her tears. “Do you remember? Jill spent all day looking for sand demons.”

  “Those sand demons can be really vicious,” Pearl said.

  Even Aunt Lucy laughed at that.

  On a previous visit to Candle Sands, some years earlier, Grandma had warned me to watch out for sand demons. She had told me they lived just under the sand and were very dangerous. Like an idiot, I’d believed her, and I’d spent most of the day on my guard, in case we were attacked. Of course, it turned out there are no such things as sand demons.

  “Very funny,” I said. “You lot are truly hilarious.”

  The minibus dropped us in a car park close to the beach.

  “Mummy, look over there.” Florence pointed to the shop just beyond the car park. “They sell buckets and spades. Can we buy some?”

  “Let’s go and see what they’ve got.”

  We bought a bucket and spade for each of the girls and hired four deckchairs for the grown-ups.

  No sooner had we picked our spot on the beach than Aunt Lucy and the twins had put their deckchairs up, and they began to sunbathe. Meanwhile, I was still struggling with mine. For some reason, I’d never been able to master deckchairs.

  “What are you playing at, Jill?” Amber laughed.

  “Don’t just sit there. Come and give me a hand.”

  “I’ll do it.” Pearl jumped up, came over, and had it up in a few seconds. “There you go.”

  She’d made it look so easy.

  “Thanks.”

  The four of us relaxed in the sunshine while the girls raced to see who could make the most sandcastles.

  I was almost asleep when I heard all three of the girls shout out. I looked up and saw a young boy running away. He had kicked over several of the sandcastles.

  He was some distance away when Aunt Lucy said, “Jill! How could you?”

  I had no idea what she was talking about, but when I followed her gaze, I could see that the boy had disappeared. In his place, a snake was slithering across the sand.

  “He’s only a kid,” Amber said.

  I was just about to tell them that I hadn’t turned the boy into a snake when I noticed the grin on Florence’s face. She must have cast the spell on him. There was no way I was going to tell Aunt Lucy and the twins that she was responsible, so I quickly reversed the spell.

  “Sorry, I overreacted. He’s okay now.”

  I glared at Florence who rather sheepishly went back to her sandcastles. I’d already planned to talk to her about the basket-weaving spell, but now we would need to have a much more serious conversation.

  Florence had decided to teach the two Lilys the ‘faster’ spell. The three of them were running up and down the beach. Florence was moving so fast you could barely see her, but the other two seemed to be running at a normal pace. After about twenty minutes, they grew bored with that game and came back to join us. The Lilys went back to their sandcastles. Florence came up beside me and whispered in my ear. “I showed the Lilys how to do the ‘faster’ spell, but they couldn’t do it. They’re rubbish at magic.”

  “Shush, you mustn’t let them hear you.”

  “But they a
re. Why can’t they do it? They’re older than me.”

  “We’ll talk about it when we get back home.”

  An hour later, the beach was much busier.

  “What’s that, Mummy?” Florence pointed at something behind us.

  I glanced around and saw that someone had set up a Punch and Judy stand. I hated those things. The stupid voices drove me insane, and who cared about a few sausages anyway?

  “I love Punch and Judy,” Amber said.

  “Me too.” Pearl was already out of her deckchair. Come on, kids, let’s go and get a seat on the front row.”

  The three girls didn’t need telling twice.

  “Come on, Jill,” Pearl said.

  “Actually, I think I’ll go and fetch some drinks.”

  “You’ll miss the show.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “I’ll come with you to help carry them,” Aunt Lucy offered.

  “No, it’s alright. I can manage. You stay here and watch our bags.”

  I didn’t want Aunt Lucy to accompany me because I didn’t plan on going directly to the refreshment stall. I was going to take my sweet time, so that when I returned, the stupid puppet show would be over.

  After wandering aimlessly for about fifteen minutes, I made my way to the refreshment stall where there was a long queue. By the time I got served, the beach was really packed, and I wasn’t sure where the others were, but then I spotted Aunt Lucy waving to me. The Punch and Judy show must have finished because the twins were back in their deckchairs, and the kids were making more sandcastles.

  “We thought you’d got lost,” Amber said. “You’ve been gone for ages.”

  “There was a long queue at the shop. I had to wait.”

  “Punch and Judy were really funny, Mummy,” Florence said. “The dog stole the sausages.”

  “That sounds fantastic. I’m really sorry I missed it.” Not! “Come and get your can of pop, girls.”

  I’d no sooner settled back into the deckchair than one of the Lilys yelled, “Look! Donkeys!”

  Soon, all three girls were pleading for a donkey ride.

  “They look dangerous,” I said. “Probably better to stick with the sandcastles.”