Witch Is When the Floodgates Opened

by Adele Abbott

  “Yeah, she’s even worse than usual.” Pearl agreed.

  “Hasn’t she got over the election result yet?” I took a bite of muffin.

  “What do you think? Every time we see her, she has another moan about it. She says you should have demanded a recount.”

  “Me? I didn’t think it was my job to ask for a recount. She should have asked for one.”

  “She reckons that if there’d been a recount, she would have won.”

  “So, just to recap: everything is my fault.”

  “That’s pretty much it,” Pearl said.

  “I should have realised.”

  “By the way, Jill.” Amber glanced around to make sure she couldn’t be overheard. “Who did you vote for?”

  “Who do you think? Grandma, of course. I’m not stupid.”

  “We didn’t,” Pearl whispered.

  “What?”

  “We didn’t vote for Grandma.” Amber grinned.

  “Why not?”

  “Because if she’d won the election, it would have been terrible. It’s bad enough having her as our grandma. If she was running Candlefield—can you imagine how bad that would be?”

  “You won’t tell Grandma, will you?” Pearl looked worried now.

  “You’d better hope I don’t. If she ever finds out that her granddaughters and her daughter voted for her opponent, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes. I’m the only one in her family who actually voted for her. Maybe I should tell her, then she’d be annoyed with you lot instead of me?”

  “You can’t do that! Please, Jill. Remember what she did to our ears? She’d do something even worse this time.”

  “I’ll have to give it some thought. Oh, look! I seem to have finished my blueberry muffin.”

  “You can have another one—on the house,” Pearl said. “I’ll go and get it now.”

  “That’s very kind of you. And another coffee wouldn’t go amiss.”

  I’d no sooner taken a bite out of my second muffin than the door crashed open. All conversation in the tea room stopped, as in walked Ma Chivers, followed closely by Alicia and Cyril. Her eyes were blazing with anger as she stared at me.

  “I thought I might find you here,” she said.

  “Hello, Ma.”

  “Don’t call me, Ma. My name is Mrs Chivers.”

  “Oh—right—sorry. Is there something I can help you with, Mrs Chivers?”

  “There’s nothing you can help me with, young lady. But, as I mentioned when I visited your office, there’s certainly something I could help you with. Do you see this young witch?” She gestured towards Alicia.

  I glanced at my nemesis who scowled back at me.

  “This young woman has had the benefit of my guidance for some time now, and do you see how she’s progressed?”

  “I hear she’s very good at poisoning people.”

  Alicia looked as though she was about to strike me, but Ma Chivers put out an arm and held her back.

  “I’m a reasonable woman,” Ma Chivers said.

  I doubted that somehow, but now wasn’t the time to contradict her.

  “So I’m going to give you a second chance, which is not something I do very often. I’m going to invite you once again to come under my tutelage. Your grandmother’s days are numbered. Her power is in decline. She can’t even get elected to the town council! So, if you do have ambitions to progress as a witch, you really have only one choice. I’ll ask you one last time: Will you come and study under my guidance?”

  Her eyes burned into me. Alicia’s eyes burned into me. Even Cyril’s eyes burned into me.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Amber and Pearl who looked as terrified as I felt. My mouth was so dry I could barely speak, but I managed to swallow, and then said, “I’m sorry, Mrs Chivers, but I’d prefer to stay with my grandmother.”

  She pushed the table to one side, and got right in my face. For a moment, I feared for my life.

  “Make a note of today’s date, and be sure to remember it.” She spat the words. “This is the day you made the biggest mistake of your life.”

  With that, she stormed out of the shop, leaving overturned tables and chairs in her wake.

  On her way out, Alicia turned to face me, then drew a finger across her throat.

  Chapter 22

  Mrs V had her back pressed up against the door to my office, and was brandishing a large knitting needle.

  “Don’t go in there, Jill. Whatever you do, don’t go in there!”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “There’s some kind of wild animal inside. I saw it when I went in to feed the cat, but I managed to get out before it could attack me.”

  Mrs V liked the occasional tipple. I’d seen the results of that once before when she and Grandma had had a night out on the tiles. It had involved boomerangs and sailors, if I remembered correctly. Perhaps she’d been at the bottle again?

  “Are you sure about this, Mrs V?”

  “Of course I am! It tried to eat me. It’s all hairy and horrible.”

  “Okay, well let me just have a quick look—”

  “No! It’s far too dangerous.” She stood her ground.

  “I promise to be careful. And besides, I need to check on Winky.”

  “Oh, forget him.”

  “If there is a wild animal in there, Winky will be terrified.”

  “Okay, but be quick. And be careful.” She stepped aside.

  I slowly pushed open the door, and peered inside. I couldn’t see anything. And I couldn’t hear anything—not even Winky.

  “Be careful, Jill,” Mrs V said.

  “It’s okay.” I crept inside and closed the door behind me. I had one hand on the door handle—just in case I needed to make a quick exit. I still couldn’t see anything. Maybe Mrs V had been drinking. Then suddenly, something small and hairy jumped up onto my desk.

  “Get back!” I said.

  “Don’t just stand there!” a familiar voice said. “Help me!”

  “Winky?”

  “Who did you think it was?”

  “What happened to you?”

  Winky had been transformed into what looked like a miniature Old English Sheepdog. His fur was so long that he looked like a giant ball of wool. If he hadn’t spoken to me, I wouldn’t have known which was his front-end and which his back-end.

  “What do you think happened? That stupid ointment happened!”

  “Did you follow the instructions?”

  “Of course I did. Well, more or less.”

  “What do you mean more or less?”

  “I may have put on a little bit more than the instructions recommended.”

  “How much more?”

  “The whole jar. I rubbed it all over my body; I figured it would prevent any other bald spots appearing.”

  “You idiot! Why on earth would you do that?”

  “Never mind the lecture. What are you going to do about it?”

  “What do you expect me to do?”

  “Clip my fur.”

  “I don’t know the first thing about clipping fur.”

  “You don’t know anything about being a P.I., but—”

  “Enough of the cheek!” Why did everyone keep saying that?

  “Hurry up! I can’t let anyone see me looking like this. What if Bella tries to contact me on Skype? I’ve stayed away from the window all morning in case she spotted me. You have to help me. And you have to do it now!”

  “But I don’t have any clippers.”

  “You’ve got scissors, haven’t you?”

  “It’ll take forever to cut off all of that fur using scissors.”

  “Well then, the sooner you get started, the sooner it’ll be done.”

  Two and a half hours later, I was completely exhausted. There was fur all over the desk and the floor. My fingers were sore from having to cut through so much of it.

  “That’s not bad at all,” Winky said, admiring his reflection in the mirror. “You’ve done a good
job there.”

  “Why, thank you, sir.”

  “Maybe you should consider giving up this P.I. lark, and set up as a cat trimmer?”

  ***

  “It’s not right, Jill,” Mrs V said. She was still upset about Winky and the fur situation. “No animal’s fur should grow so quickly. He must be possessed or something. Do you think he’s a werecat?”

  “I’m sure he’s not. It was just a mix-up with the treatment I’d bought for his fur. Everything’s okay now apart from my fingers.” I showed her my hand. “Look, they’re really sore where I’ve been using the scissors.”

  “I don’t know why you don’t get rid of that stupid cat. I’ve told you before, he’s a liability.”

  “Everything’s back to normal now.”

  “Nothing’s normal when it comes to that cat.”

  Just then, the outer door opened, and a little head appeared around it.

  “Gertie?”

  “Hi, Jill. Is it okay for me to come in?”

  “Yes, of course. Come in.”

  I could see that she’d been crying; her eyes were red and puffy. “This is Mrs V, Gertie.”

  “Hello, Mrs V.”

  “Hello, young lady. Would you like a scarf? I have plenty for you to choose from.” Mrs V opened the cupboard. Gertie was obviously taken aback by the variety and colour of scarves available. “Help yourself to one, dear. You can have some socks too, if you’d like.”

  After she’d chosen a nice yellow scarf and matching socks, we made our way through to my office.

  “Is that your cat?” Gertie said.

  “Yes, that’s Winky.”

  “I like his fur.”

  “Thank you, young lady,” Winky said. “I rather like it myself.”

  “He’s only got one eye,” Gertie couldn’t stop staring at him.

  “Yes, but he’s still rather handsome, don’t you think?”

  “I guess so.”

  I shooed Winky off the desk and invited Gertie to sit down. “What can I do for you? Have you started at your new school?”

  “Yes, two days ago. That’s why I’m here. It’s not going very well.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I haven’t made any friends, and no one likes me. I was going to run away this morning—back to Candlefield, but then I remembered you said I could come and see you if things weren’t going well. So here I am.”

  I’d hoped that once Gertie had started at her new school, things would click into place. It never occurred to me that she’d actually turn up at my office.

  “Why don’t I come to school with you—just for one day—to help you settle in?”

  “They won’t let you stay at school with me.”

  “Not normally, but you and I are witches, remember. If we put our heads together, I’m sure we can come up with a way that I can be at school with you without anyone knowing. And then, maybe I can give you a few pointers which will make things better.”

  “What kind of pointers?”

  “I won’t know until I get there, but I’m willing to give it a go if you are.”

  “I’m not sure.” She sounded unconvinced.

  “What do you have to lose?”

  “I guess. When?”

  “How about tomorrow? I’ll meet you outside your house in the morning, and we’ll go to school together. We’ll show them what witches are made of.”

  By the time she left, Gertie was looking a little happier with life.

  “Is she going to be okay?” Mrs V said.

  “I think so. She’s just moved to the area and is the new girl in school. She was a little upset, but I think I’ve managed to reassure her.”

  “You’re good with children, aren’t you, Jill?” Mrs V smiled. “It’s about time you got married and had some of your own.”

  “Yeah, I think I’ll pass on that one for the time being.”

  My phone rang and I was pleased for the distraction. I shuffled through to my office, away from Mrs V and her plans for my nuptials.

  It was Jack Maxwell.

  “Hi, Jack. How’s things?”

  “Jill. Sorry I haven’t been in touch recently. I’ve been a bit busy. Look, the reason I’m calling is that there’s a policemen’s ball in a couple of weeks’ time—”

  “A policemen’s ball? Seriously?” I laughed. “I didn’t realise there were such things. I thought they only existed in comedy sketches.”

  “It’s real, I promise you. Anyway, I just wondered if you’d like to accompany me?”

  “You mean like on a date?”

  “Err—well—err—” he blustered. “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “But wouldn’t you rather take your paranormal consultant?”

  “Deirdre has resigned. It came totally out of the blue.”

  “Why?”

  “She said it was because she’d seen a ghost.”

  “But surely, that was her job, wasn’t it? Seeing ghosts, I mean. I thought she could talk to them?”

  “I really don’t understand it. She said something about this ghost being a real one, and then she handed in her resignation and left.”

  “How very peculiar.”

  Good job, Mum! I owed her a few custard creams for that.

  “So, what do you say? Are you up for the policemen’s ball?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “There’s one thing I ought to mention,” he said. “Every year there’s a competition for the best couple.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Dancing partners. Deirdre was going to be my partner before she upped and left. I thought I might have to drop out, but then I remembered you said you had medals for dancing. I did get that right, didn’t I?”

  “Medals? For dancing? Err—yeah—dozens of them.”

  “That’s great. I won the competition at my old stomping ground, three years on the trot. I’d like to think I could repeat that here in Washbridge. So it’s a date then?”

  “Err—yeah, it’s a date. Bye, Jack.”

  ***

  Mrs V poked her head around the door.

  “The colonel and Sir Cuthbert are here. Can you see them, Jill?”

  My heart sank. I’d been dreading this moment. As much as I loved the colonel, he and Sir Cuthbert were the last people I wanted to see. I’d let them both down really badly. I’d accused Lady Phoebe of stealing her own vase and of having an affair with her gardener. What had I been thinking? Still, I had to face the music sooner or later, so I might as well get it over with.

  “Yes, show them in, please.”

  Just as I’d expected they both looked extremely angry.

  “Colonel, Sir Cuthbert, please take a seat, gentlemen. Can I just start by saying how sorry I am for what I said to Lady Phoebe? It was unforgivable.”

  The two men sat stony-faced for a long moment, but then turned to face one another, and laughed.

  Huh?

  “It’s all right, Jill,” Sir Cuthbert said. “This whole affair has given us quite a good laugh. The idea that Phoebe and Roger Tyler were having an affair—priceless!”

  “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Don’t worry about it. All’s well that ends well. The vase is back where it belongs, and we’ve even got the serpent plate back.”

  “You got the plate back as well?”

  “Yes. As soon as Terry Brown found out that the one in his possession had been stolen, he insisted on returning it to us. I was happy to reimburse him the money he’d paid for it. He’s a good chap. Salt of the Earth. Which is more than I can say for that scoundrel, Roger Tyler.”

  “He’ll get what’s coming to him,” I said. I was feeling much better now.

  “The police believe he had an accomplice, but no one seems to know who she is.”

  “It was a she?” I tried to sound surprised.

  “According to Detective Maxwell, they suspect a woman may also have been involved, but she appears to have fled the scene—leaving Roger Tyler to car
ry the can. Anyway, to the reason I’m here. I believe I owe you some money, young lady.”

  “No, no. I couldn’t possibly accept payment. Not after what happened.”

  “Look here, we hired you to find the vase, and find the vase you did. So I insist on paying you.”

  “That’s very kind. And thank you for being so understanding.”

  After the two men had left, Winky jumped onto my desk.

  “I don’t know how you do it,” he said.

  “What?”

  “How did you get away with that? If that had been me, I would have sued your backside.”

  He was right. I’d really lucked out this time. It was only when Daze had mentioned Mona Lisa that I’d remembered the article in The Bugle. Someone had created an exact duplicate of one of the statues in the museum. The curators had found the two of them side by side. No one knew where the second one had come from. It was identical in every way.

  I’d dismissed the article as nonsense at the time, but then when Daze had told me about Mona Lisa, I realised what had happened. She’d captured Mona Lisa in the museum, just after she’d made the duplicate, and before she could take away the original.

  Mona Lisa had also been working with Roger Tyler. She’d duplicated the serpent plate, the original of which had eventually been bought by Terry Brown. After that success, they’d become more ambitious and had planned to steal the vase. Roger Tyler had taken it back to his place; Mona Lisa was supposed to meet him there to make the duplicate which Tyler would then have taken back to the house. But, in the meantime, Mona Lisa had been arrested by a Rogue Retriever—our very own Daze. Poor old Roger Tyler was left holding the baby or, in this case, the vase.

  Lady Bunty believed she’d seen Lady Phoebe in Winminster, but she’d actually seen Mona Lisa, who had used the ‘doppelganger’ spell while she sold the serpent plate.

  Once I’d worked it all out, it was quite simple for me to use the same ‘doppelganger’ spell to make myself look like Mona Lisa. It had worked a treat. Roger Tyler had fallen for it, hook, line and sinker. After my meeting with him, I was able to tell Jack Maxwell where and when he would find the vase and the thief.

  Job done!

  Chapter 23

  I’d arranged to meet Gertie at the end of her street. As I waited for her to appear, my phone rang.