Witch is How The Tables Turned

by Adele Abbott

“One has to know when and where to deploy them. They’re never acceptable in place of a business’s name, but perfectly okay for the right product.”

  “Whatever. What do you think is going to happen when they’ve knitted a garment, and it doesn’t make them look younger?”

  “Don’t you think I’ve thought of that?” She held up a box. “Every ball of EYW comes in one of these.”

  “So?”

  “Take a look.”

  I took the box from her and studied it closely. Although I couldn’t see anything in particular, I did get the sense of something. “Isn’t that the same spell you used with ForEver Young cream?”

  “Very good. We’ll make a witch of you yet. Do you remember what it’s called?”

  “Err, the ‘self-delusion’ spell, wasn’t it?”

  “Ten out of ten. This time, though, I’ve refined it into a potion which has been absorbed into these boxes. It makes whoever comes into contact with it, see whatever they want to see.”

  “Let me get this straight. Not only are you selling them a product that doesn’t do what it’s supposed to do, but you’re also drugging them to hallucinate that it does?”

  “Brilliant, I’m sure you’ll agree.”

  Chapter 16

  I was still trying to get my head around the sheer audacity of Grandma. If any other sup had done even half of the stuff she got up to, they’d be behind bars in Candlefield before their feet touched the ground. Daze and the other rogue retrievers did occasionally turn a blind eye—as she did with Jack and me for example, but Grandma was really pushing her luck. I hoped it didn’t backfire on her.

  I was about to make my way home when Kathy phoned.

  “Jill, I’ve spoken to Pete. He isn’t keen on the idea of you spending the night at Washbridge House, but only because he thinks you’d be wasting your time. If you still want to do it, though, he’ll meet you there at nine.”

  “Yeah, I’m definitely up for it. Tell him I’ll be there at nine.”

  “Thanks, Jill. I owe you one.”

  “That makes it about a thousand you owe me.”

  Thankfully, when I got back to the house, there was no sign of Mr Ivers’ car, and no one in Rubadub. Sheesh, he’d even got me calling it by that stupid name! If I could get a few hours’ sleep, I would be good to go for tonight.

  “Give me the combination!” The tall, dark figure walked slowly towards me.

  “No! Get away from me!”

  I was in the hidden room, deep below the school, standing with my back against the plinth.

  “Give me the combination or it will be the end for you.”

  He was now close enough that I could see his face, but I wished I hadn’t. His ghostly white complexion was in stark contrast to his jet-black hair. But it was his eyes that I couldn’t tear my gaze away from. Bright orange, they seemed to burn into my very soul.

  “The combination now or you die.”

  I cast the ‘thunderbolt’ spell at him, but it had no effect at all.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He raised his hand, and everything went black.

  I sat up in bed in a cold sweat. Thank goodness it had only been a dream. I could still see the man’s face; it was burned on my memory. Did I know him? I was sure that I didn’t, but I doubted I’d ever be able to forget that face.

  A quick check of my watch showed it was almost eight o’clock. At least, I’d managed to get plenty of sleep before that horrible nightmare had woken me. I’d just about have time to get something to eat before I set off to Washbridge House.

  I must have still been thinking about the nightmare because when I opened the door, and found Jack standing there, I almost jumped out of my skin.

  “Why are you creeping around out there?” I yelled at him. “You scared me to death.”

  “I’m not creeping around. I’ve just got home and was about to come inside when you opened the door. Where are you off to?”

  “I’ve promised Peter that I’ll spend the night at Washbridge House, to look out for flower thieves.”

  “I was hoping we might have an early night.” He grinned that sexy grin of his.

  “You’re plain out of luck then, buddy. How’s the murder enquiry going?”

  “It isn’t. It turned out he died of natural causes.”

  “And it took all day to establish that?”

  “Yeah. We got word just over an hour ago. Are you sure you can’t tell Peter you won’t be able to make it?”

  “No chance, but you could always come with me if you like?”

  “No, thanks. I’ll give it a miss.”

  “Some romantic you are.”

  ***

  “Are you sure you want to do this, Jill?” Peter was waiting for me outside Washbridge House.

  “Of course. You’re family.”

  “It’s just that I can’t see what you’ll be able to do that I didn’t do last night. I was wide awake all the time, and I never took my eyes from the flowerbeds. I don’t see how anyone could have got in here and taken the flowers.”

  “But they did, didn’t they? And, with respect, this is my area of expertise. I have years of experience of exactly this type of thing.”

  “Would you like me to stay with you? I don’t mind.”

  “No. Go home and get a good night’s sleep.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure?”

  “I am.”

  “I’ll be back at six-thirty sharp.”

  “I’ll see you then. And don’t worry. Your flowers are safe with me.”

  It hadn’t really occurred to me until it started to go dark, but there weren’t any lights in the garden. Still, just like a scout, a good P.I. is always prepared, and I had my super-duper mini flashlight with me.

  When carrying out surveillance at night, the biggest problem is the overwhelming desire to sleep; it can creep up on you at any time. One minute, you’re wide awake and the next—

  Where was I? Oh no! I’d nodded off. I checked my watch; phew, I’d only been asleep for a matter of minutes. Thank goodness Peter hadn’t been here to see that. He wouldn’t have been impressed.

  The only way to avoid falling asleep was to stay on my feet, so I decided to walk laps of the garden. Luckily, we’d had a long dry spell, so I could do so without getting covered in mud.

  By first light, I was exhausted, and I’d lost count of how many laps I’d walked. There had been no sign of the flower thieves. The only visitors I’d seen were a fox, who had taken off the moment I shone the flashlight his way, and a couple of hedgehogs. An unseen owl had kept me company for most of the night; boy, that twit twoo gets old really quickly.

  “Morning, Jill.” Peter came breezing into the garden at dead on six-thirty.

  “Morning. Did you manage to get some sleep?”

  “I did. Like a log. Anything to report?”

  “Not a thing. There’s been no sign of the flower thieves.”

  “Great. Do you mind if I take a look around?”

  “Of course not. I’ll walk with you.”

  We’d only got half way around the garden when he stopped dead in his tracks. “Oh dear.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “They’ve taken some from here.”

  I looked at the flowerbed, which to the untrained eye still looked perfect. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” He pointed. “They’ve taken them from that far corner. Not many, but enough that it’s noticeable. To me, at least.”

  “I don’t understand it. I would have seen them.”

  “That’s what I thought when I was here all night. I never closed my eyes for one minute. The weird thing is, they always seem to go for this same variety.”

  I looked again at the flowerbed, and that’s when it struck me: I’d seen flowers identical to those somewhere else.

  ***

  I didn’t mention my suspicions about the flowers to Peter. How could I? He would have thought I was crazy.

  After leaving Washbridge House,
I made my way home because I desperately needed to get some sleep. At least it was Sunday, and I didn’t have to get up until I was good and ready.

  Jack was still in bed, fast asleep, and he didn’t stir, not even when I slipped in beside him. My head had no sooner hit the pillow than I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

  When I woke, I felt completely refreshed. Thank goodness there had been no repeat of that horrible nightmare from the day before.

  A few minutes later, Jack came into the bedroom, carrying a tray with tea and two slices of toast.

  “Good morning, my princess.”

  “Morning. Thank you.” I took a sip of tea. “What time is it?”

  “Almost two o’clock.”

  “Wow. Aren’t I the lazy one?”

  “Not really. You were up all night. How did it go?”

  “Not great. Some more flowers were taken.”

  “Did you see who did it?”

  “No, but I have a lead that I’m going to follow up on later.”

  “Don’t forget it’s the hot tub party at three.”

  “We’re not really going to that thing, are we?”

  “I said we would.”

  “Great.” I took a bite of toast.

  “You must have been in a really deep sleep.”

  “I was. I don’t remember you getting up.”

  “You didn’t even stir when the alarm went off.”

  “I didn’t set the alarm.”

  “It was the alarm on your phone. It went off not long after I got up. I figured you must have set it by mistake, so I switched it off.”

  “Right.” I took another bite of toast.

  That’s when it struck me. “The Makers!”

  “What about them?”

  “I have to get over there now.”

  “What about the rest of your toast?”

  I handed Jack the tray, jumped out of bed and got dressed in record time.

  “What’s going on, Jill?” Jack followed me out of the house and across the road.

  “I was supposed to turn off the BHV.”

  “The what? You aren’t making any sense.”

  I unlocked the Makers’ door, and hurried into the ‘lounge’.

  “This is the BHV. I was supposed to press the orange button over four hours ago.”

  “What is it, anyway?”

  “It’s some kind of revolutionary new vacuum cleaner. BHV stands for black hole vacuum.”

  He laughed. “That’s nonsense.”

  “Maybe, but I promised that I’d press the orange button.”

  Before I realised what he was doing, he put out his hand and pressed a button. “There! I’ve done it. Can we go back to our house now? This place is too weird for my liking.”

  “Which button did you press?”

  “That one; the orange one.”

  “That’s the red one!”

  “Is it? It looks orange to me.”

  “That’s the orange one; next to the one you pressed.”

  “Oh yeah. I suppose it is a little more orangey, but there’s not much in it.”

  “Oh bum!”

  “What does it matter? It’s obviously a piece of junk.”

  I studied the machine carefully. “It doesn’t look like anything bad has happened.”

  “Of course it hasn’t. They’ll never know you were late, or that you pressed the wrong button unless you tell them.”

  “I didn’t press the wrong button! You did.”

  “Same difference. How are they ever going to know?”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Of course I am. Come on, let’s get back. It’s the hot tub party in half an hour.”

  Back at home, I explained to Jack that I had to pay a visit to Candlefield before we went around to Mr Ivers’ house.

  “You’ll miss the party.” He pouted.

  “No, I won’t. You know how it works: when I go to Candlefield, time stands still here, so I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “Do you promise you’re not doing this just to get out of the hot tub party?”

  “I promise. It’s all to do with the flowers that were stolen from Washbridge House. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.”

  “Okay, then.” He gave me a kiss. “See you in a minute or two. Love you.”

  “Love you back.”

  Before I magicked myself over to Candlefield, there was one teeny-weeny little spell I needed to cast first.

  Snigger.

  ***

  “Jill?” Aunt Lucy was in the kitchen, eating breakfast. “Twice in one weekend? To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “This may sound a bit weird, but I’d like to take another look at your flowers.”

  “Oh? Help yourself. There are some in the lounge and some more in the dining room.”

  “Thanks.”

  As I thought, the flowers in both rooms were identical to those that had gone missing from Peter’s flowerbeds.

  “Are these from your garden, Aunt Lucy?”

  “Goodness, no. I wish they were; that would save me a small fortune.”

  “Do you mind if I ask where you got them from?”

  “Not at all. They’re from the floral fairies, but as far as I know, they don’t make deliveries to the human world.”

  “That’s okay, but I really do need to have a word with them.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  I told her about my suspicions as to where the floral fairies were sourcing their flowers, and the problems that they were causing Peter.

  “That’s terrible. I simply had no idea.”

  “There’s no reason you should know. And, anyway, it’s possible I’m wrong, but I need to find out one way or the other.”

  Chapter 17

  According to Aunt Lucy, the floral fairies could be found in Hyacinth House, which was at the far end of Rhododendron Road. The whole area had a delightful floral fragrance.

  The building was tiny, so I had to shrink myself to gain access. Once inside, I made my way into reception.

  “You’re not a fairy.” The fairy behind reception had a bluebell headband in her hair.

  “Well spotted. Who’s in charge here?”

  “That would be Princess Buttercup.”

  “In that case, would you tell the princess that I’d like to see her. My name is Jill Maxwell.”

  “I’m afraid she doesn’t see anyone without an appointment.”

  “I suggest you get on the phone and tell her that if I don’t get to see her within the next ten minutes, she’ll be getting a visit from the rogue retrievers who’ll want to ask her a few questions about her flower importing operation.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Look, with the greatest of respect, this is a job for the organ grinder. So if you wouldn’t mind?”

  She didn’t look best pleased, but she made the call anyway.

  “Princess Buttercup will see you in a few minutes.”

  “Thank you. That’s most kind.”

  I’d only just taken one of the seats when another fairy appeared.

  “Jill Maxwell? I’m Heather Meadows. I’m the princess’s private secretary. Would you follow me, please?”

  “Where are we going?” I asked as we wound our way around the sprawling building.

  “To the princess’s private office. It’s just around this corner.”

  Heather showed me into the office and offered me a drink, which I declined. When she left, she promised the princess would be with me shortly. Unlike the rest of the building, which had been bright and welcoming, this office was dark, gloomy and furnished with some very ugly antiques. On every wall were paintings of the same elderly fairy, wearing a crown.

  Suddenly, from a hidden door behind the desk, a young woman appeared; she was wearing a headband of buttercups.

  “That’s my mother: Queen Dandelion.”

  “Oh? Is she still—?”

  “She died earlier t
his year.”

  “I’m very sorry.”

  “She was a wonderful mother. She ruled the floral kingdom for many centuries. All of her people loved her.”

  “And you’ve succeeded her?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Doesn’t that make you the queen?”

  “In theory, yes, but I can’t bring myself to take the title. Not yet. I don’t feel as though I’m worthy of it.” She took a seat. “Anyway, enough about me. I understand you want to discuss our flower imports? Some kind of problem, I believe?”

  “I’ll speak bluntly if I may?”

  “Please do.”

  “I believe you’re stealing flowers from the human world, and selling them here in Candlefield.”

  “You’re correct.”

  That wasn’t the response I’d expected. I’d assumed she would deny all knowledge of it.

  She continued, “I should explain. We’ve always grown our own flowers in the same region, just to the south of Candlefield. This year, we were hit by freak weather, which wiped out almost ten per cent of the crop.”

  “So you thought you’d steal them from the human world?”

  “I understand your anger, and I’m not going to try to defend our actions, but I would like to explain our reasons if you’ll allow me to.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “The crop failure occurred just after the queen, my mother, passed away. If it had happened while she was still alive, I’m sure she would have known what to do, and would have handled it much better than I have. In the event, I was confronted with a crisis that threatened to destroy the livelihood of large numbers of our people. I did the only thing I knew how to, which was to take advice from the elders.”

  “And they advised you to steal flowers from the human world?”

  “Effectively, yes, but they assured me that the shortage extended to only a handful of varieties. The plan was that small quantities of those flowers would be collected from only the largest gardens in the human world.”

  “You use the word collect, but in fact what you really mean is steal.”

  “You’re right, of course. The theory was that no one would miss such small quantities. I wasn’t thrilled with the plan, but I couldn’t sit back and see my people starve, so I gave it my blessing. I take full responsibility for that decision, and I understand you will have to report it to the authorities. I will of course co-operate fully.”