by Adele Abbott
And so they were.
“They’re pretty, aren’t they, Mummy?”
“They’re very pretty.”
They were exactly the same colours as they had been as caterpillars: Yellow with red spots.
“Can I take them into the house?”
“No. You have to leave them outside so that they can fly.”
“But they might fly away.”
“They probably will eventually, but at least you’ve seen them turn into butterflies. Shall I take a photo of them for you?”
“Yes, please.”
“Okay.”
“We’d better get going.” Jack tapped his watch. “Or we’ll be late for the fete.”
“What about Buddy?”
The little dog was fast asleep on the other side of the garden.
“We may as well leave him out here. It’s not like he can get out, and the weather forecast is good.”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
***
“I want to go on the hook-a-duck,” Florence said, as soon as we arrived at Tweaking Meadows where the village fete was being held.
“Your Daddy is an expert at hook-a-duck. Mummy has to find the refreshment stall.”
“Swap in thirty minutes?” Jack shouted as Florence dragged him away.
I gave him the thumbs up and then went in search of my stall. It was next to a carousel, which was playing the same awful tune on loop, at a ridiculously high volume.
“Hi, Jill.” The vicar had to shout to be heard.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“No problem. We’ve only been open a couple of minutes. I thought I’d hold the fort until you arrived. Everything is priced, so you should be good to go. Give me a shout if you need anything.”
“Will do.”
There were so many cakes, all home-baked, and looking delicious. I was like a child left alone in the sweet shop. I told myself that I must resist, but those eclairs looked so tasty. Just one wouldn’t hurt.
And yes, I did pay for it. Sheesh, what do you take me for?
If I’d expected an easy ride on the refreshments stall, I was sorely mistaken. I soon had a queue of people, all eager to sample the delicious wares.
“Hi, Jill.” Olga appeared at my side. “The vicar asked me to come and lend you a hand.”
“Thanks, I certainly need one.”
After half an hour, Jack took over from me.
“Look what I’ve won, Mummy.” Florence held up a small stuffed toy.
“A giraffe. It’s lovely.”
“It’s a penguin.”
“Oh, yeah, of course.”
“I’ve decided to call him Hooky because I won him on hook-a-duck.”
“That’s a great name.”
“Can I have a toffee apple?”
“I’m not sure. They’re hard to eat and very sticky.”
“Please, Mummy. Wendy had one.”
“Is Wendy here?”
“Yes, she’s with her mummy. She said she was feeling better.”
“That’s good. Let’s go and get you that toffee apple.”
I insisted that we sit down while Florence ate it, to try and avoid her getting into any more of a mess than necessary. As we were seated, I heard a familiar voice; it was Mad together with Brad.
“Mad!” When she turned around, I could see that she had a scarf pulled up over her mouth again. “Florence, Mummy is just going to talk to her friend. You stay here and finish your toffee apple. I’ll only be a minute.”
“Okay, Mummy.” She had already managed to get red toffee over Hooky, the giraffe-shaped penguin.
“Hey, you two. Who’s watching the shop?”
“We set on a new assistant,” Brad said. “This is our first day off together since we opened.”
“Are you okay, Mad? Do you have toothache?” She shook her head, somewhat unconvincingly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She sighed beneath the scarf, and then slowly lowered it from her mouth. “Don’t you dare laugh, Jill.”
“What happened to your lips?”
“Nails happened to them.”
“Oh dear.” I stifled a laugh.
“Mum assured me he knew what he was doing, but it’s my own fault for agreeing to it.”
“They don’t look too bad,” I lied.
“Yes, they do, but at least they’ll only be like this for a couple of weeks, according to Mum.”
“I don’t want any more of this.” Florence appeared at my side, and pushed her half-eaten toffee apple into my hand.
Mad and Brad made a fuss of her for a few minutes and then went on their way.
“Why on earth would you buy one of those horrible things?” Jack was staring at the half-eaten toffee apple.
“It’s not mine. It’s Florence’s.”
“I told her she couldn’t have one because they were bad for her teeth.”
“Sorry, I didn’t realise. Who’s manning the refreshment stall?”
“Olga volunteered to watch it by herself for the rest of the afternoon. There’s barely anything left to sell, so I didn’t feel bad about leaving her to it.”
“I want to win a goldfish, Mummy.” Florence pointed to the stall across the way.
“But you’ve already got Buddy. We don’t need any more pets.”
“Please! Please!”
“Hello, poppet, are you having a nice time?” Grandma had appeared out of nowhere.
“Yes, but I want to win a goldfish.”
“I bet your daddy will win one for you if you ask him nicely, won’t you, Jeremy?”
Jack shot her an ice-cold look.
“Will you, Daddy?”
“I’ll try, pumpkin.”
“Yay!” Florence yelped. “Great-Grandma, my caterpillars have turned into butterflies.”
“Have they? Well, isn’t that exciting?”
“They’re the same colour as before. Yellow with red spots. Mummy has a photo of them.”
I took out my phone and showed the butterfly photos to Grandma.
I’d expected her to make some frivolous comment, but instead her face fell. “Off you go with your daddy, poppet, and try to win that goldfish.”
“What’s wrong, Grandma?” I asked after Jack and Florence had left. “What’s with the face?”
“It’s those butterflies.”
“What about them?”
“The caterpillars must have been brought here from Candlefield.”
“How can you possibly know that?”
“Yellow butterflies with red spots? There’s only one place you’ll find those, and it isn’t in the human world.”
“So what?”
“They’re called Death Wings.”
“Why would anyone call a beautiful butterfly a Death Wings?”
“Because they’re carnivores.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. And even if that were true, so what?”
“Death Wings can eat a hundred times their own body weight. They will attack any small creature they see. Mice, rats, even—”
“Tiny dogs? Buddy! Tell Jack I had to go home, would you?”
I shot out of the village fete and ran all the way to the old watermill.
“Buddy! Buddy! Where are you?” There was no sign of him. Florence was going to be devastated if her butterflies had eaten her dog. “Buddy!”
“What’s all the noise about?” Buddy appeared from underneath a bush. “I was fast asleep.”
“Are you okay?” I swept him into my arms; I couldn’t see any wounds.
“I was fine until you woke me up. Put me down, would you?”
“I can’t. It might not be safe.” I opened the door and took him into the kitchen. “You can stay in here.”
Just then, my phone beeped with a text message. It was from Grandma.
Death Wings – ha, ha, ha.
You’re so gullible.
Underneath the text were three emojis: a dog, a butterfly and a laughing face.
When wou
ld I ever learn?
More adventures and craziness for the family Maxwell in the next exciting book:
Witch Is Where Unicorns Cry
(Witch P.I. Mysteries #41)
ALSO FROM ADELE ABBOTT:
Whoops! Our New Flatmate Is A Human
Susan Hall Investigates Book #1
Take a shy werewolf, a wizard who fancies himself as a ladies’ man, and a vampire dying for her first taste of human blood. Then add a human for good measure.
Web site: AdeleAbbott.com
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