by Adele Abbott
“Won’t he think it’s strange if we just disappear?”
“Not if you’ve already said your goodbyes. I’ll distract him and then say you’ve taken a taxi to the station.”
Not long after the babies had been fed, the air was filled with a pungent aroma that could mean only one thing.
“We’ll take the little ones upstairs to change them.” Amber picked up Lil.
“Do you want to do it, Jill?” Pearl said. “The practice might come in handy.”
“That’s a very generous offer, but I got all the practice I needed when you two were laid up with the sup flu. When you come back downstairs, you’d better say your goodbyes to Jack.”
“I was just telling the twins they should come over again next Saturday,” Jack said, as he hugged them both goodbye.
Had the man lost his mind? Once a year was more than enough.
“You didn’t tell us about the big event that Grandma has organised, Jill,” Amber said.
“What big event?”
“The promo for TenPinCon,” Jack said.
“I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”
“Jack says there’s going to be a parade and a band, and then giant skittles.”
“They’re pins.”
“It sounds like fun,” Pearl said. “Maybe we’ll pop over.”
“Isn’t it a long way to come just for a few hours, though?”
“It’ll be worth it. We might ask Mum to come with us.”
“Aunt Lucy? You’ll be lucky. You know how she feels about the human—”
Terrified that I was about to let the cat out of the bag, Amber spoke over me. “Mum would enjoy a trip to Washbridge.”
“You should all come,” Jack said. “It’s going to be great.”
I took Jack through to the kitchen, so that the twins could magic themselves home.
“Have you recovered?” I asked him.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve never seen anyone blush as much as you did when the twins mentioned the creaking bed.”
“I wasn’t blushing. I—err, just—err, anyway, why did the twins take a taxi? We could have run them to the station in both cars.”
“They haven’t taken a taxi. And they aren’t going to the station.”
“But they said they were.”
“Come on, Jack. Just think about it for a minute.”
I could almost see the penny drop. “Oh yeah. Of course. You’d think I’d be used to all of this magic stuff by now.”
“Talking of which, why did you ask them to come over again next Saturday?”
“I thought they’d enjoy it.”
“You’re supposed to think they live several hours away. You have to be careful that you don’t let on that you know where they really live.”
“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Do you reckon they cottoned on?”
“No. Luckily, the twins are away with the fairies most of the time. You’ll need to be much more careful if Aunt Lucy does come over. And you’ll definitely have to watch what you say around Grandma. She doesn’t miss a thing.”
“Okay. I will. I promise.”
“If I shrink the bed, can you take it around to Kathy’s while I tidy up here?”
“Sure.”
“It might be an idea to tell her it needs oiling.”
***
While Jack went to Kathy’s, I tidied the kitchen and took the rubbish out to the bin.
“Jill!” Britt called to me over the fence. “Are your cousins still here? I was hoping I might see their little ones.”
“They’ve already gone home, I’m afraid.”
“Oh? I didn’t see them leave.”
“Yeah, just now.”
“Did you ask them where they bought their prams from?”
“I did, yes, but it seems they’re not on general sale yet.”
“Oh?”
“They’re a prototype. The twins signed up to test them.”
“That’s disappointing. My sister would have loved to have one of those.”
“Maybe they’ll be on general release soon. I’ll ask the twins to keep me posted.”
“Thanks. Are you and Jack doing anything interesting for the rest of the day?”
“Nothing much.”
“Kit and I are taking part in the West Chipping half-marathon later.”
Of course you are. “Nice.”
“Did you see those big trumpets that the Normals were playing yesterday?”
“Alphorn.”
“Alf who?”
“No. That’s what they’re called: Alphorns. They made an awful noise, didn’t they?”
“Kit and I quite enjoyed it. We were thinking of asking where they got them from. It would be nice to play a musical instrument.”
“Might it be better to start with something a little smaller?” And quieter?
“You could be right. I used to enjoy playing the triangle when I was at school.”
“No! Not the triangle!”
“Sorry?” She looked understandably surprised by my extreme reaction.
“Err, you can do better than the triangle. How about a tambourine?”
“Perhaps. I’ll need to discuss it with Kit. Maybe you and Jack could join in too? Do either of you play an instrument?”
“Not me. I’m tone deaf. Jack is a bit of a whizz on the glockenspiel, though.”
“Really? That’s fantastic. Maybe we could even start a community band?”
***
It was almost midday when Jack finally got back from Kathy’s.
“I thought you’d got lost.”
“They invited me in for tea and biscuits.”
“That was very nice for you. I’ve been slaving away, tidying up.”
“Kathy asked what we were going to do with the spare bedroom.”
“I haven’t given it much thought. I suppose we could turn it into a home cinema.”
“Kathy thought we might be thinking of turning it into a nursery.”
“Ah, so that’s what this is all about.”
“It’s not such a terrible idea, is it?”
“No, of course it isn’t, but—err, we haven’t really talked about that yet, have we?”
“Maybe we should. You do want kids, don’t you?”
“Yeah, of course, but I always thought it was something I’d do when I was grown up.”
“You’re thirty, Jill.”
“Twenty-nine.”
“When you see the twins with their babies, doesn’t it make you wish we had one of our own?”
“No, it just makes me happy that I don’t have to spend all day feeding them and changing their nappies. I had quite enough of that when I was looking after them when the twins were poorly.”
“It’s different when it’s your own baby.”
“That’s what everyone says. I’m not sure I believe it, though.”
“I really do want children.” He pulled me in for a hug.
“Me too. I’m just not sure if I’m ready yet.”
“Okay.” He gave me a kiss. “But let’s not leave it too long. You’ll make a smashing mum.”
“I’m not so sure about that. I’ll most likely be a nightmare.”
“What do you fancy doing for the rest of today?”
“I kind of promised I’d go and support Mrs V at her hula hoop marathon. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
***
The hula hoop marathon was being held in Washbridge Central Rooms, which was a ten-minute walk from the high street. As we’d be having a big dinner in the evening, we popped into Coffee Games to pick up a snack for lunch.
“What time does the marathon start?” Jack said. “I don’t want to miss anything.”
“We’ve got plenty of time. It doesn’t start until two o’clock.”
“If it runs over, we might have to have dinner a little later than usual.”
“You might be under-estimating them. A lot of old people keep themselves in shape these days.”
“Come on, Jack. Let’s face it, if they’re anything like Mrs V, they’ll be lucky to keep them spinning for more than a few minutes. They should have stuck with something they could manage, like the knitathon.”
As soon as we stepped into Coffee Games, Jack stopped dead in his tracks. “What’s going on in here?”
“It looks like blind man’s buff to me.” I stepped to one side to avoid a young man, wearing a blindfold, who was stumbling around, trying to tag someone.
“What’s that all about?” Jack said.
“Didn’t you know? They don’t only do board games in here now. They do all kinds of parlour games too. Just think yourself lucky it’s not pin the tail on the donkey day.”
Once we had our food and drink, we managed to find refuge in a booth at the back of the shop.
“I preferred this place when it used to be Coffee Triangle.” Jack took a bite of his sandwich.
“Me too. Except for triangle day.”
“Oh yeah.” He laughed. “I’d forgotten about your irrational fear of triangles.”
“They’re evil. By the way, how are you on the glockenspiel?”
“I’ve never played one. Why would you ask that?”
“No reason. Just curious.”
***
The hula hoop marathon was way better attended than I’d expected it to be. When Mrs V spotted us, she and Armi came over.
“Jill, Jack, I’m so pleased you were able to make it.”
“We wouldn’t have missed this for the world, would we, Jack? And besides, it should only take a few minutes, shouldn’t it?”
“I think you’ll find it’ll last a lot longer than that,” Mrs V sounded confident. Over confident, if you asked me.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m sure you’re right.” Twenty minutes max.
“Yarnies!” The woman on the stage was speaking into a megaphone. “Can I have your attention, please. The marathon will begin in ten minutes. Will all competitors please take their place on stage as quickly as possible.”
“Why doesn’t she use a microphone?” I whispered to Mrs V.
“That’s Flo Wren. She insists she’s allergic to them.”
“Right.”
“I’d better get going.” Mrs V started towards the stage.
“Okay. Best of luck. We’ll be cheering you on.”
“There must be at least thirty of them up there,” Jack said.
“And not one of them under seventy. This is going to be a disaster. They’ll be lucky if they manage to raise twenty quid between them.”
Flo Wren’s voice crackled through the megaphone again. “Just a quick reminder about the rules. Once you’ve started the hoop spinning, you must not touch it with your hands again. If you do, you will be eliminated. If the hoop drops to the floor, you will be eliminated. Competitors are allowed a five-minute break every thirty minutes.”
“That’s not fair,” I whispered to Jack. “Mrs V never mentioned that they’d get breaks.”
“What are you worried about? You just said they’d only last a few minutes.”
“True.”
Flo continued, “And, finally, a reminder that the yarnie who keeps their hula hoop spinning for the longest time will have their sponsorship minutes doubled. Okay, on my count. Three, two, one, go!”
“Stop laughing!” Jack nudged me.
“Sorry.” I couldn’t help it. Just as I’d predicted, over half of the yarnies lasted less than a minute. The room was full of the sound of hoops hitting the stage. “I told you this would happen.”
“They haven’t all been eliminated yet.”
He was right. A few of the yarnies had managed to keep going a little longer, but by the fifteen-minute mark, there were only seven competitors left on the stage: Mrs V and six others.
“Look at her go, Jill. She doesn’t even look tired.” Jack was becoming quite animated. “Go on, Mrs V!”
“Why are you cheering her on? This is going to cost us a fortune.”
By the first break, there were only two competitors left. Mrs V was one of them, and she was still going strong.
When she came off the stage to get a drink, Armi, Jack and I went over to join her.
“You’re doing great, petal.” Armi gave her a quick peck on the cheek.
“Yeah, you’re going great guns, Mrs V,” Jack said. “You look like you could keep going all day.”
“Don’t you think you might be overdoing it?” I said. “Maybe you should call it a day now.”
What? Of course I wasn’t thinking about how much it was going to cost me. My only concern was for her welfare. Sheesh!
“I’m fine.” She took a sip of water. “I feel like I could keep going all afternoon.”
“How did you learn to hula hoop like that?” Jack said.
“I was on the hula hoop team for my school. In fact, I actually represented the country once. I guess it’s something you never forget.”
Flo was back on her megaphone. “The break is over, yarnies. Please return to the stage.”
I grabbed Jack’s arm. “We’ve been hustled.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She never told me she was an international.”
“Look. The other yarnie has dropped out. Mrs V has won!” Jack raised his hands. “Go, Mrs V.”
“Well done, petal!” Armi shouted.
“Shouldn’t she stop now that she’s won, Armi?” I said.
“If I know Annabel, she’ll keep going until she drops.”
That was precisely what worried me.
And so it was that Mrs V continued to hula hoop. On and on and on it went, and all the time, all I could think about was how much money this was costing me.
Eventually, during the third break, Mrs V announced that she was going to call it a day.
Flo Wren took to the megaphone again, “Yarnies, please give it up for Annabel Versailles. According to the official timekeeper, she has clocked up an incredible seventy-five minutes.”
Oh bum! At fifty pence a minute, that was going to cost me thirty-seven pounds and fifty pence.
“And, of course,” Flo continued. “As the winner, her sponsored minutes are doubled to one-hundred and fifty.”
Double bum! That meant I’d have to fork out seventy-five pounds.
Chapter 16
It was Monday morning and for once I was up before Jack. I’d woken early and been unable to get back to sleep, so I’d decided to fetch the journals from my car and start to work my way through them.
Progress was slow and painful. Rufus Alldig’s father, Cosmo, had recorded pretty much everything he did in those books. And by everything, I really do mean everything. It was like reading someone’s Twitter feed. He’d noted what he’d had to eat that day, what clothes he was wearing and what the weather was like. Every now and then, though, I did find an interesting snippet related to the graveyard. I was halfway through the first journal, and so far, I’d only found one entry related to The Shadows. Cosmo had recorded the burial of a certain Maximillian Molar who had been convicted of stealing teeth. Not dentures, but real teeth from the mouths of innocent victims. Molar’s MO was apparently to tie up a dentist, and take his place. Anyone with a dental appointment that day, even for just a check-up, left the surgery minus their teeth. The journal didn’t make it clear what Molar actually did with the teeth, and on balance, I decided I’d rather not know.
“Morning.” Jack yawned. “How long have you been up?”
“A couple of hours.”
He came to join me on the sofa, and picked up one of the journals. “What are these?”
“A gravedigger’s journals.”
“You always did have a weird taste in books.”
He half grinned, half yawned. “Are these for a case you’re working on?”
“Not exactly. I followed the woman who’s working in the twins’ creche. She went to an unmarked grave, and I’m trying to find out who it belongs to.”
“Did the twins ask you to check up on her?”
“No, they think the sun shines out of her backside.”
“Why are you getting involved, then?”
“There’s something about her that just doesn’t feel right.”
“Have you found anything so far?”
“Nothing about the unmarked grave, but I now know the man had an unhealthy obsession with mulled wine. Oh, and I’m never going to the dentist again.”
“It’s too early in the morning for me to try to make any sense of that. Have you eaten breakfast yet?”
“No. I thought you’d want to make it, seeing as how I’m working.”
“This isn’t working. This is sticking your nose in where it isn’t wanted. If the twins are happy with the woman, why can’t you leave well alone?”
“I’m right about Belladonna, you’ll see.”
“Is that really her name?”
“So she says.” I put a slip of paper into the journal to act as a bookmark. “That’ll do for now. I’ll do some more tonight.”
“You’ve forgotten, haven’t you?”
“Forgotten what?”
“That we’re babysitting for Lizzie and Mikey tonight.”
“Oh bum, yeah, I had. Never mind, I can take these with me.”
“No, you can’t. You’ll freak the kids out if they see you reading the dusty old journals of some creepy gravedigger.”
Over breakfast, which I’d slaved long and hard over, Jack mused about TenPinCon.
“I promised Tony and Clare that I’d let them know what’s happening with the marketing tomorrow. Can you chase up your grandmother?”
“Grandma does things in her own sweet time. My chasing her won’t do any good.”
“I suppose not. If she hasn’t got back to you by tomorrow, I’ll just have to stall them.” He looked down at his egg on toast. “How come I only got one slice?”
“That’s all the bread that was left. Our visitors ate us out of house and home yesterday.”