by Adele Abbott
“Hi, I’m Trixibelle. Can I help?”
“Hi. I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before, have I?”
“I only started last week. I’m so lucky to be here. This has been my dream job ever since I started school.”
“Right. I’m hoping to find some information about a criminal named Griselda The Vile.”
“I see. Is she still alive, do you know?”
“No. She died many years ago—more than a century, probably. I don’t have a precise date, I’m afraid.”
“We do have a section devoted to crime, but all of the books in that section are fiction. Let me just check the index to see if I can find the name.” She clicked the mouse, and began to study the computer. “Griselda—?”
“The Vile.”
“You wouldn’t happen to know her real surname, would you?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Hmm. The only Griselda I can see is a book called Griselda The Green Mouse, which is in the children’s section.”
“That’s rather disappointing.”
“Have you tried CMOC?”
“What’s that?”
“Candlefield Museum of Crime.”
“I didn’t realise there was a museum of crime.”
“Not many people do. It’s a tiny building at the rear of the police station. It might be worth a try.”
“Right. Thanks, Trixibelle, you’ve been a great help.”
“My pleasure.”
How very nice it was to have finally met someone with customer-facing skills to match my own.
When Trixibelle had said the museum was tiny, she hadn’t been kidding. I’d walked past it three times before I realised that the door, which had peeling green paint, was in fact the entrance to CMOC. I’d expected to see a sign of some kind, but it was only when I was right next to the door that I noticed a miniscule plaque bearing the letters: CMOC.
Once inside, I found myself in a tiny reception area; the only furniture in there was a single chair and a coffee table. A small sign next to a frosted window gave instructions to press the button, so I did. I expected to hear a bell ring, but there was no sound. I waited a couple of minutes and tried again. Was it even working?
Exasperated, I pressed the button and this time held my finger on it. Moments later, I heard footsteps.
“Whatever happened to patience?” A tiny man slid open the window.
“Sorry. I wasn’t sure if the button was working.”
“I was in the basement. There are lots of steps to climb.”
“Sorry again.”
“Get it over with, then. You may as well say it. Everyone does.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Aren’t you going to say that you didn’t think anyone was gnome.”
“I didn’t even realise you were a—err. That’s to say, I’m used to seeing gnomes with—err, never mind.”
“You live in the human world, don’t you?”
“I do, yes.”
“I can always tell. I suppose you expected me to have a fishing rod or a wheelbarrow?”
“Well, I must admit, I—”
“It’s a travesty the way we’re represented over there. We don’t all like fishing or gardening, you know.”
“I’m sure.”
“Personally, I enjoy rock climbing, but I bet you haven’t seen any gnomes in the human world, dressed in climbing gear, have you?”
“Now you mention it, I don’t think I have.”
“Did you actually want something? I can’t stand here all day, chitter chattering with you.”
“Sorry, yes. The young lady at Candlefield Library suggested I might find information here on a criminal who died some centuries ago.”
“Name?”
“I’m Jill Maxwell.”
“Not your name! The name of the person you’re interested in.”
“I don’t know her full name.”
“In that case, you’re probably wasting your time and mine.”
“She was known as Griselda The Vile.”
Upon hearing that, he visibly flinched. “Why would you be interested in that lowlife?”
“You’ve heard of her, then?”
“Unfortunately, yes. I repeat my question: what’s your interest in her?”
“I came across her unmarked grave.”
“In The Shadows?”
“That’s right. I’ve spoken to the current gravedigger, whose father had held the same post before him. It was his father’s journals that gave me Griselda’s name.”
“My advice to you would be to forget all about her. The crimes that woman committed are another level of evil. You’re better to remain oblivious. I wish I had.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“Jerome.”
Jerome the gnome? I loved it.
“I appreciate your advice, Jerome, but I really do need to find out what this woman did.”
“Very well. On your head be it.” He gestured to a door at the far side of the room. “I’ll see you through there.”
I followed him down a corridor to a tiny office with a single desk and chair.
“Wait there. I’ll go and fetch the relevant texts.”
He was gone for almost fifteen minutes, and I was just wondering if I should go and look for him when he returned carrying a number of dusty books, which had obviously come from the basement.
“Thanks.”
“Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”
“Positive.”
“Alright, then. I’ll leave you to it.”
An hour later, I thanked Jerome, and left. After being stuck in that stuffy office, the fresh air was very welcome, but it did little to ease the nausea I was now experiencing. Nausea that had no doubt been brought on by what I’d just read.
***
Back at my office, my head was still spinning. I now knew exactly who Griselda The Vile was, what she’d done to deserve the nickname, and why Belladonna took flowers to her grave. But what should I do about it?
My phone rang; it was Aunt Lucy.
“You’ll never guess what, Jill.”
“You can’t get into your house for Barry’s pictures?”
“Close, but no. I’m coming to Washbridge tomorrow.”
“Wow! I wasn’t expecting that.”
“The twins persuaded me that I should. I’m a bit nervous, but I’m looking forward to seeing the parade.”
“Are you planning to stay here overnight?”
“Goodness, no. I only agreed to do it because it will only be for a few hours. You and Jack will be there, I assume?”
“Yes. Kathy, Peter and the kids too.”
“Fantastic! I can’t wait to see you all. See you tomorrow.”
“Okay, bye.”
I’d totally forgotten the twins had said they might come over. I’d grab a quick word with them at the parade, and let them know what I’d found out about Belladonna.
“Jill.” Mrs V came through to my office and closed the door behind her. “Alistair is here.” She hesitated. “But there are two of him.”
“Send them both in, would you?”
The Robinson brothers looked a little sheepish. It was certainly easy enough to tell them apart now. Alistair had the dolphin tie; Craig had the elephant tie.
Oh, and of course, Alistair had two black eyes.
“Take a seat, please.”
Before I could say anything else, Alistair apologised. “We’re really sorry for the subterfuge, Jill.”
“It was unforgiveable,” Craig said.
“I don’t understand why you did it. What was the point?”
They looked at one another, neither of them seemed keen to do the talking. Alistair eventually folded.
“We both applied for the same job.”
“I already know that.”
“Yes, but we did it twice. Craig and I unknowingly applied for the same two jobs. You offered me this one, and Craig wa
s lucky enough to land the other.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you did this.”
“I know. Neither of us was sure which of the two jobs we’d be best suited to, so when we landed both, we thought why not try them out for a couple of weeks, and then decide which one of us would take which job.”
“Or, you could have—and this might sound like a crazy idea—taken the job you were offered!”
“You’re right,” Craig said. “With hindsight, that’s what we should have done, but we thought we could pull this off without anyone noticing.”
“That didn’t quite work out, did it? I have to tell you that you aren’t as similar as you think you are.”
“We’ve come to that realisation ourselves.”
“This whole thing is ridiculous, but the truth is it was a toss-up which one of you I offered the position to in the first place, so you might as well decide between you who is going to do this job, so we can all move on.”
For the longest moment, there was a stony silence, and then Alistair spoke, “The thing is, Jill. Another vacancy has come up with the other company, and we’ve both decided that we’d rather work there.”
“What? Who is this other company?”
“It’s the marble works on the other side of Washbridge. They’re called Top Marble.”
“Do they make worktops?”
“No. Just marbles. You know the little round glass—”
“I know what marbles are, thank you.”
“We’ve both been fascinated by marbles ever since we were kids, so this is kind of our dream job.”
“But what about this place? Don’t you find the work I do exciting?”
They looked at one another and then both shook their heads.
“There is one thing I’m going to miss, though,” Alistair said.
“What’s that?”
“Having the clown school right next door was great.”
After the brothers Robinson had left, Winky jumped onto my desk.
“Don’t you dare say a word!” I threatened him.
“Good riddance if you ask me.”
“I suppose you’ll want the job now?”
“Me? No chance. I must have been out of my mind to even consider doing it. You’re on your own.”
“That’s fine. In fact, I’m glad they decided to quit. I’ve always worked best by myself. The Lone Ranger, that’s me.”
“There’s always a silver lining.”
“You do realise that no one appreciates your funny quips, don’t you?”
“Hi, ho.” He shrugged.
“Give me strength. And what am I supposed to do with the orange dolphin desk?”
“Fifty quid.”
“Okay, it’s yours.”
“I don’t want to buy it. I’ll take fifty-quid to dispose of it for you.”
I’d had just about enough, so I decided to call it a day. I needed a long hot bath, and a glass of wine.
Oh no! I’d totally forgotten about the sign. Macabre had given me until close of business today to get it sorted. Still, not to worry, a little magic would soon shrink it to an acceptable size.
Fortunately, the street outside was quiet before the rush hour stampede, so no one would notice what I was doing. The spell was easy enough—just a small reduction in size was all that was needed.
I’d just begun to cast the spell when several cars beeped their horns, and came screeching to a halt. I turned around to see what was happening, and soon saw the source of the problem. A cat had run straight across the busy road, and had been lucky to escape with its life. Perhaps Winky’s idea for the Cat Zip had not been so crazy after all.
“Look out!” someone yelled.
The next thing I knew, a man had pushed me to the ground. I was just about to lay into him when the sign came crashing to the floor next to us.
“Phew!” The man helped me to my feet. “That was close.”
“Thanks. You saved my life.”
“Think nothing of it. You should sue whoever’s sign that is. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks.”
“I’d better get going. I have a bus to catch.”
“Thanks again.”
I was such an idiot. At the critical moment, I’d been distracted by the cat, and instead of shrinking the sign, I’d enlarged it. The additional weight had been too much for its fixings, and it had come crashing to the ground where it had broken into several pieces.
The incident had attracted quite a crowd, so there was no chance of using the ‘take it back’ spell.
Great! Now I had no signage again.
Chapter 26
“Today’s the big day!” Jack was as excited as a little kid at Christmas.
“It certainly is. This is going to be easy money.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The money I’m going to take off Winky in the hula hoop contest. Why, what are you talking about?”
“The promo for TenPinCon, of course.”
“Oh yeah. Obviously, I’m excited for that too,” I lied.
“What makes you so sure that you’ll beat Winky at hula hoop?”
“Because I’ve seen him. That cat doesn’t have the first clue how to do it.”
“He might try to cheat. What if he tampers with the hula hoop?”
“I’ve already thought of that, which is why I’m going to nip into town early to buy one.”
“Are you going to take your own car, then?”
“Yeah. Where shall I meet you?”
“I told Kathy we’d see them outside of Ever. Where did you tell the twins to meet us?”
“I didn’t, but they’ll know where to find us.”
“Make sure you’re on time. There’s likely to be a big crowd.”
“Don’t worry. It won’t take me long to beat that cat.”
***
The question now was: where would I get a hula hoop from? I rarely visited toy shops. At least, not since the horrific Total Dream Office incident—I still had nightmares about that.
I drew a blank in the first three shops I tried, and I was just starting to worry when the young woman in Washbridge Toys made a suggestion.
“Have you tried Hula Hoop Heaven?”
“Is that online? Only, I need it today.”
“No, it’s here in Washbridge. Do you know Harry’s Hot Cakes?”
“Is that the bun shop near the railway station?”
“That’s the one. Hula Hoop Heaven is just around the corner from there.”
You could have knocked me down with a feather. Who knew there was even such a thing as a shop that specialised in hula hoops? And how very fortunate that it was right here in Washbridge.
“Good morning, madam.” The young man behind the counter was wearing a cute beret. “Welcome to HHH.”
“Like the pencil?” I laughed.
“Sorry?”
“3H—pencil lead.”
“Huh?” He was obviously none the wiser.
“Never mind. I need a hula hoop.”
“You’re in the right place. Can I ask, is it for pleasure or competition?”
“Definitely competition.”
“Which team are you with? I don’t recall seeing you in any of the league matches.”
“I’m not actually in a team. I just have a contest with my—err—my friend.”
“Right, in that case, I would recommend the Hula3899.”
“Is it light?”
“Very light with excellent balance.”
“That sounds like what I’m looking for.”
He took one from the rack. “Try it for size.”
“Do you have it in other colours?”
“I’m afraid not. Only green.”
“Okay.” I stepped into it, and gave it a twirl.
“Have you considered taking lessons?” he said. “We hold them for all levels.”
“Thanks, but I won’t be needing them. This one is fine. How much does it c
ost?”
“You’re lucky. It’s on offer this week at only thirty-two pounds.”
“Thirty-two?”
“It’s normally forty. There’s twenty percent off this week.”
It was much more than I was hoping to pay, but I’d soon have recuperated that and more. “Okay, I’ll take it.”
“Would you like me to wrap it?”
“No need. This bad boy is going to be seeing action in a few minutes.”
***
“Well, well, well.” Winky jumped down from the sofa. “I was sure you were going to chicken out.”
“No chance. This is going to be the easiest and quickest money I’ve ever made.”
“Is that the Hula3899?”
“It is.” I held it aloft. “Eat your heart out, sucker.”
“How much did that cost you?”
“Only thirty-two pounds. It was on special offer.”
“I paid seventy pence for mine, from the market.”
“Pah. How gullible do you think I am? I don’t believe that for a minute.”
“Please yourself. How are we going to do this?”
“Grab your hoop, and on three, we start. The one who keeps it going longest is the winner. Okay?”
“Sounds good to me.” He stepped into his hoop. “Let’s do this.”
“Here goes. One, two, three. Go!”
I was pleasantly surprised at the ease with which I hit my rhythm. This was going to be a doddle. Another minute, two at the most, and I would have won back all the money that Jack and I had been forced to pay out for sponsoring Mrs V.
But that’s when I noticed that Winky too seemed to have hit a rhythm. When I’d watched him practising before, he’d been awkward and uncoordinated, but today, he seemed to be much more relaxed and comfortable. I wasn’t worried, though. He wouldn’t last long.
Fifteen minutes later, I was starting to flag. I’d lost all sense of rhythm, and it was getting harder and harder to keep the hoop spinning. Meanwhile, Winky could not have made it look any less effortless.
Breathless, I could go on no longer. My hoop hit the floor with a sickening sound.
“I win, I believe.” Winky grinned.
“You conned me.”
“How about I give you a chance at double or nothing? Do you want to bet I can’t keep this going for another hour?”