Witch is How The Tables Turned

by Adele Abbott

  “3T?”

  “Turtle, Tortoise and Terrapin. Rhymes is desperate to win. Apparently, he’s been runner-up for the last two years. He’s been reading his potential entries to me; he’s driving me crazy.”

  “Oh dear, I’m sorry you’re having to put up with that. By the way, Grandma mentioned that you studied mermaids at college.”

  “I did. In fact, I did my dissertation on them. What brought that up?”

  “Until Grandma told me, I had no idea that they were actually witches.”

  “That’s right, and it’s nothing short of a miracle that they’ve survived this long.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Throughout history, there has been an acute shortage of mermen. For some reason, ninety per cent of all children born to mermaids are female. No one knows why.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “I agree, but it still doesn’t excuse what happened some years ago.”

  “What?”

  “One particular coven of mermaids came up with a way to change human males into mermen. When it was discovered, there was a major scandal, and some of the elders were arrested.”

  “How did they manage to convert the humans into mermen?”

  “I’m not sure of the details because it wasn’t publicised, but from what I could make out, they fed the humans with a potion disguised to look like fish.”

  “Gilbert!”

  “Sorry?”

  “I think you may have solved one of the cases I’m working on.”

  “Oh?”

  “The ex-boyfriend of my ex-PA has recently been recruited by some kind of cult, which goes by the name of the Salmon Association. I know they have at least one mermaid in their ranks, and my guess is there are many more. Ever since he became involved with them, he’s been acting very strangely. When I went to see him the other day, he seemed to have difficulty walking.”

  “That would definitely fit the pattern. The potion will work slowly on him at first until, eventually, his legs will transform into a tail.”

  “Poor old Gilbert. When I took a tin of the so-called salmon back to the office, Winky turned his nose up at it. He insisted it wasn’t salmon. I thought he was messing around, but it sounds like he was right.”

  “You’ll need to act quickly before the potion takes a hold of your friend, and it’s too late.”

  “I intend to. Thanks for the tea and cakes, but I’d better get straight over there.”

  ***

  I magicked myself to Gilbert’s house in Middle Wash.

  “Jill?” Marcy looked surprised to see me.

  “Shush!” I put my finger to my lips. “Is Gilbert in?”

  “He’s in his bedroom,” she said, in little more than a whisper.

  “Can we go through to the kitchen?”

  “Of course.”

  Once we were in there, I closed the door behind us.

  “We have to get rid of those tins right now.”

  “The salmon?”

  “It isn’t actually salmon. It’s—err—well, there isn’t time to get into that now, but it’s essential he doesn’t eat any more of it. Do you have any bags I can put the tins in?”

  “Yes, of course, but what will I tell Gilbert when he asks for some?”

  “Tell him the truth, that it’s gone.”

  “He’ll only go and get some more from those salmon people.”

  “Not if I have anything to do with it. If things go according to plan, that cult will be gone very soon.”

  “Gone? What do you mean?”

  “You’re going to have to trust me on this one. I should warn you, though, Gilbert is going to need a lot of support when he discovers there’s no more of the—err—salmon. He’ll have to go cold turkey for a few days.”

  “If it means I’ll get my boy back, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  We emptied the cupboard of the tins, and I struggled out of the house, with three bags full of them. Once I was in the car, I made a call to Daze.

  “It’s Jill. I’m sorry to call you at the weekend.”

  “That’s okay. Blaze and I are working anyway.”

  “I have something for you. Are you familiar with mermaids?”

  “Of course, but I haven’t had a lot to do with them.”

  “Did you know they once tried to convert human males into mermen?”

  “I remember reading about it when I was studying for my exams.”

  “It’s happening again. Right now.”

  I told her everything I knew, and she agreed to act immediately.

  “I’m worried that Gilbert will reach out to them for more of their fishy potion.”

  “Don’t worry, Jill. By the time he gets there, that crowd will be behind bars in Candlefield.”

  “What do you want me to do with these tins?”

  “I’ll send Blaze over to collect them. They’ll be evidence when this comes to court.”

  Chapter 15

  You know what they say about curiosity and the cat. Sometimes I can be my own worst enemy.

  Today was the day that Grandma was to launch her new promotions for Ever and EAWM.

  What? I know she doesn’t like me to call it that, but it’s not as though she’s looking over my shoulder, is it?

  “You got here just in time.”

  “Grandma? Where did you come from?”

  “You’re standing right outside my shop. Where do you think I came from? I assume you’re here to see the new promotions I’m launching today?”

  “Is it today? I hadn’t realised.”

  At that moment, we were interrupted by the sound of steel drums, which appeared to be coming from inside Ever.

  “Stand back, Jill.” She ushered me away from the door, and then popped her head inside. “Okay, ladies. Out you come.”

  The six Everettes, led by a very disgruntled Julie, marched out of the shop. They were all sporting the new canary-yellow uniform, and were playing steel drums. Although I didn’t recognise the tune, I have to admit it was very pleasing on the ear.

  In no time at all, a large crowd had gathered; it was yet another marketing coup for Grandma. In between numbers, I managed to grab a quick word with Julie.

  “I didn’t know you could play the steel drum?”

  “I can’t. At least, I’ve never played one before now; none of us have. Your grandmother gave them to us, and said we shouldn’t worry because it would come naturally. I was very sceptical, but it turns out she was right.”

  Once again, it seemed that Grandma was flaunting the no-magic rule for her own benefit.

  As well as the large crowd that had gathered, a TV news crew and several reporters had now arrived. Grandma had no doubt primed them well ahead of time.

  A few minutes later, she signalled for the Everettes to stop playing, and then she grabbed a wireless microphone.

  “Ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Ever, Washbridge’s premier tea room, dance hall and sun terrace. I hope you’re all enjoying the music. I’m very pleased to announce that next Saturday will be the first of what I hope will become an annual event here at Ever. On the sun terrace, we will be staging Washbridge’s first ever surfing extravaganza.”

  There was a collective gasp from the assembled crowd.

  “Ms Millbright!” One of the reporters put up his hand. “Bob Bragg. The Bugle. How and where can you possibly stage a surfing extravaganza?”

  “On the sun terrace of course. And as to how, that would be telling. What I can say is that it’s going to be fabulous, and that we’re expecting a large crowd, so don’t be late.”

  “But, Ms Millbright, I still don’t—”

  “If you want to know more, you’ll have to make sure you’re here next Saturday. Put the date in your diary and tell all your friends.”

  With that, she signalled the Everette Steel Band to start up again. Then, ignoring all of the reporters’ questions, she ducked back inside the shop.

  I followed.

  “A surfi
ng extravaganza?” I said, once we were in her office. “How’s that going to work?”

  “You heard what I told the press. You’ll have to wait until next Saturday to find out too.”

  “I assume magic will be involved?”

  “No comment.”

  “One day, you’re going to push your luck too far.”

  “So you keep saying. I don’t have time for your jibber jabber. I have another big promo launch in one hour’s time.”

  “At EAWM?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Sorry. I meant Ever A Wool Moment.”

  “Yes, so if you don’t mind?”

  “Okay, I’ll leave you to it.”

  “Make sure you’re back in time for the second launch of the day. I’ll be looking out for you.”

  “Okay. See you in an hour.”

  ***

  As I had some time to kill, I thought I’d call into Coffee Games, but when I stepped inside, I soon had a change of heart because it was snap day. The place was packed, and the volume level was unbearable.

  Where else could I get a cup of coffee?

  “Hi, Kathy.”

  “Jill? What brings you here?”

  “I thought I’d pop in and see how the shop was doing.”

  “It’s doing very well, thanks. My next appointment is due here in thirty minutes.”

  “Just time for a cup of coffee, then.”

  “That’s why you’re here. I should have known. I’m surprised you didn’t go to Coffee Games, though.”

  “When I could spend quality time with my sister?”

  “Hang on. I know why you’re here. It’s snap day at Coffee Games, isn’t it?”

  “I have no idea. Are you putting the kettle on or what?”

  “Okay, but give me a shout if any customers come in.”

  “Will do. And biscuits would be nice.”

  Kathy had no sooner gone into the back than an elderly man and a young woman in her twenties walked through the door. Although Kathy had said I should call her if any customers came into the shop, I didn’t want to interrupt her before she’d made the coffee.

  “Morning, you two.”

  “Morning.” The young woman beamed. “I’m so excited.”

  “And so you should be. Getting married is a wonderful experience. I’ve only recently got hitched myself.”

  “Really? Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. I think it’s lovely that you’ve brought your father with you. It’s almost always the mother who gets to help.”

  The smile disappeared from the young woman’s face. “Gerald is my fiancé!”

  “Oh? Right. Yes, of course. It’s just that I—err—that’s to say—”

  “Come on, Cindy. I think we should go next door.” Gerald took his fiancée’s hand, and they disappeared in the direction of ForEver Bride.

  “Here you are.” Kathy handed me the coffee, and then glanced around. “I thought I heard you talking to someone. Have we had a customer?”

  “No, I was just—err—talking to myself. What about biscuits?”

  “Sorry, I’m all out.”

  “Never mind. I probably shouldn’t anyway.”

  “I’m glad you popped in, Jill. I’ve been debating whether or not to give you a call. Pete said I shouldn’t, but—” She hesitated.

  “About what?”

  “He won’t be pleased if he knows I’ve asked you.”

  “Asked me what for goodness sake?”

  “Some more flowers were stolen from Washbridge House last night.”

  “While Peter was there?”

  “Yes. He’s adamant that he was wide awake all night, and I believe him.”

  “How can it have happened, then?”

  “It’s a complete mystery, but if it continues, he has no chance of winning the competition. You said that you’d be willing to get involved if it happened again, so I wanted to contact you, but Pete said there was no point because you wouldn’t be able to do any more than he had.”

  “If you think it would help, and Peter doesn’t mind, I’d be willing to watch the gardens tonight.”

  “You’re such a love. Hold on there, and I’ll go and get the custard creams.”

  “I thought you didn’t have any?”

  “I just remembered. There’s a packet in the drawer.”

  ***

  It was time to head back up the high street to see what Grandma had planned for EAWM. Whatever it was couldn’t possibly top the fanfare for the announcement of the surfing extravaganza, could it?

  Wow! Just wow!

  This time, instead of the Everettes and their steel drums, a marching band was parading up and down the high street, blocking all traffic. The crowd that had gathered looked delighted, but judging by the car horns, quite a few motorists were less than enamoured with the display. Outside the shop, there were a number of circus performers, including a fire eater, a juggler (those knives looked lethal) a unicyclist and a number of acrobats.

  “I didn’t think you were coming,” Grandma scolded me.

  “I would have been here sooner, but I had to fight my way through the crowd.”

  “Another good turnout, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Yeah. Did you get permission for the band to block the high street?”

  “Since when did I need anyone’s permission to do anything?”

  “I’m sure you’re supposed to clear this kind of thing with the council or someone.”

  “Pah, red-tape. Anyway, they’ve finished now.”

  “What’s behind these?” I pointed to the temporary red curtains that had been fitted in front of the shop window.

  “You’ll find out soon enough.” She grabbed the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Ever A Wool Moment, or welcome back if you were with us earlier.”

  The crowd erupted with applause. It seemed the good people of Washbridge couldn’t get enough of Grandma’s promotions.

  She continued, “Today, Ever A Wool Moment is launching a revolutionary new product.” Grandma paused for a drum roll, which was provided by the marching band. “I give you EYW!”

  EYW?

  She pulled a cord, and the curtains opened to reveal the new window display.

  “Ever Younger Wool?” I turned to Grandma, but she was busy watching for the crowd’s reaction, which pretty much mirrored my own: Huh?

  “No doubt you’re all wondering how EYW works. That my friends, is a trade secret, but what I can tell you is that with EYW, you will look and feel years younger. Simply knit yourself a cardigan, dress or jumper with EYW and the years will fall away.”

  It was official: Grandma had finally lost the plot. And, judging by the crowd’s reaction, they thought so too.

  “That’s impossible!” shouted a woman with a young child by her side.

  “Wool can’t make you look younger.” A woman near the front shook her head.

  “You’re right to be sceptical.” Grandma seemed totally unfazed by their reaction. “People didn’t believe ForEver Young cream would work when it was first launched, but it’s now one of the best-selling products on the market. I don’t expect you to take my word for this, that’s why we have a number of garments, created using EYW, for you to try on. Go and see for yourself.” She opened the door, and a number of people immediately hurried inside.

  “What’s going on, Grandma?” I said in a hushed voice. “This can’t possibly work.”

  “Why don’t you go inside and see for yourself?”

  “I will.”

  A long table had been set up in the middle of the shop. On it, were dozens of different garments, all of which had apparently been created using EYW. On the back wall were numerous mirrors—something I didn’t recall seeing the last time I’d visited the shop.

  “Let’s see about this.” The woman, who’d earlier expressed doubts about EYW, pulled on a jumper, and walked over to one of the wall mirrors. “I don’t believe it!” She did a little twirl. “It works. It act
ually works.”

  Everyone who tried on a garment had the same reaction.

  “Can I buy this?” A woman with a blue rinse held up one of the dresses.

  “I’m afraid that none of these garments are for sale,” Grandma said. “They’re here simply for demonstration purposes, but any garment you knit using EYW will have the same effect.”

  None of this made a lick of sense. Just because a garment had been knitted in some ‘special’ wool, it couldn’t possibly make you look and feel younger. So, how did I explain the dozens of eager customers who cooed with delight when they saw themselves in the mirrors?

  Then, I spotted something. It was something that no one else would have noticed, but because of my recent experiences, I was very attuned to: One of the mirror images seemed to lag by a split second.

  I’d known as soon as I stepped inside the shop that something seemed different, but I hadn’t been able to put my finger on it. Now I realised what it was: The interior was slightly narrower than on my previous visit. I hurried over to Grandma’s office. Once inside, I saw another door to my left—one that hadn’t been there before. It wasn’t locked so I pushed it open.

  Just as I’d suspected: A narrow corridor had been created behind the false wall in the shop. Standing along the length of it were maybe a dozen bigxies. The nearest one, who appeared to be supervising the others, turned to me.

  “You can’t be in here!”

  “Does Bob Bobb know you lot are here?”

  “Of course he does. He was the one who negotiated the contract. This is one of our biggest jobs ever.”

  Just then, someone grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back into the office.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Grandma demanded.

  “Never mind what I’m doing. What are you playing at? This is a big con. That wool doesn’t make anyone look younger; you’ve got the bigxies to create mirror images to make it look that way.”

  “So?”

  “It’s a complete fraud.”

  “You saw how happy the customers are.”

  “They may be happy now, but they won’t be when they’ve knitted their garments with EWY.”

  “It’s EYW.”

  “I thought you didn’t like the use of acronyms, anyway?”