by Adele Abbott
“You shouldn’t have let us spend so much money,” Pearl said.
“How was I supposed to stop you? Once you got onto Oxford Street, you were like two women possessed.”
“You should have kept us in check. Alan and William went ballistic when they saw what we’d bought.”
“I tried to get you to rein it in, but you weren’t in any mood to listen to me. But, apart from the London Eye issue, the Tube, and the over-spending, the rest of the weekend was okay, wasn’t it?”
“I suppose so,” Amber conceded. “I enjoyed watching Changing the Guard.”
“I enjoyed the boat trip to Greenwich.” Pearl smiled for the first time since I’d arrived.
“Me too.” Much to my surprise, the weekend in London hadn’t been quite the ordeal I’d feared. Apart from the Tube and London Eye incidents, everything had gone remarkably well, considering.
I was just about to order a latte and a muffin when I spotted Maria, Luther’s ex-girlfriend, across the road.
“Jill? Don’t you want anything?” Amber called after me, but I was already halfway out of the door.
It took me a couple of minutes to catch up with Maria.
“Jill? Where did you come from?”
“I was in Cuppy C.”
“I’ve just been doing a spot of shopping.” She held up three carrier bags.
“So I see. I was hoping I might bump into you sooner or later.”
“Oh? Why?”
“Can’t you guess?”
“Luther?”
“He’s pretty upset by the way you dumped him.”
“I feel terrible about it. He’s a great guy, but what could I do? The temptation to drink human blood was much greater than I ever imagined. I was terrified I’d forget myself, and sink my fangs into his neck.”
I cringed at the thought. “Is there nothing I can say to change your mind?”
“Not unless you can come up with some way that I can be with Luther without feeling the constant craving for human blood.”
“That’s a big ask, but I’ll give it some thought. Will you give me your telephone number, in case I need to get in touch with you?”
“Sure.”
***
While I’d been talking to Maria, Cuppy C had got much busier; the queue now stretched right back to the door. I couldn’t be bothered to wait, so I made my way over to Aunt Lucy’s house instead.
“Lovely to see you, Jill.”
“I just called in at Cuppy C.”
“Did the twins give you a hard time?” She grinned. “I heard what happened on that big wheel thing.”
“I think they’ve forgiven me now.”
“I’m glad you came over because I’ve got something really exciting to show you.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“Just wait there.” She hurried out of the room before I could ask any more questions.
“Ready?” she called, a few seconds later.
“Yeah.”
“Prepare to be amazed.”
“Okay.”
Oh no! I couldn’t believe my ears.
Aunt Lucy came back into the lounge, pushing a vacuum cleaner. It was exactly the same model as the one that Kathy had shown me earlier.
“What do you think?” Aunt Lucy switched it off.
“It’s—err—very exciting.”
“Isn’t it just? It’s ten times more powerful than my old one.”
“Ten times, eh? That’s—err—great. Anyway, I only popped in to say ‘hello’. I’d better be going.”
“Don’t rush off. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about. I need a favour, actually.”
“What’s that?”
“A friend of mine, Rhoda Riddle, came to see me yesterday. She knows that you’re a P.I, and she thought you might be able to help.”
“With what?”
“Her son, Robbie, has gone missing.”
“Here in Candlefield?”
“Yes. At least, I think so. They’re pixies. Pixies rarely travel to the human world because their height makes it impossible for them to mix with humans without being noticed.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met a pixie. How tall are they?”
“Typically, no taller than six inches.”
“What’s the story with her son?”
“I don’t know the details. Rhoda was so upset that it was difficult to make much sense of what she was saying. I do have her address, though. Would you call around there and talk to her?”
“Of course. I’ll go now.”
“Before you do, Hamlet said he wanted a word with you, the next time you came over.”
“Did he?” Great. That sounded like trouble. “I suppose I’d better go and see what he wants. Where’s Barry, by the way?”
“He’s over at Dolly’s house. She took him for a walk last night, and said she’d bring him back today.”
Hamlet was in his cage, seated in a miniature armchair. He was wearing a maroon smoking jacket.
“So funny.” He chuckled. He was reading a book, but I couldn’t see the cover. “Have you read much Wodehouse, Jill?”
“No.”
“You should. You really should.”
“I understand you want to see me about something.”
“That’s right. I have the opportunity to take a vacation overseas.”
“You do? How?”
“The Hamster Travel Group. I joined a short while ago.”
“Where will you be going?”
“On a cruise. Around the Caribbean.”
“Nice. Isn’t that expensive?”
“It’s subsidised. Before I can go, though, I’ll need a passport.”
“Right?”
“I thought you could organise that for me.”
“I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“First, you’ll need to take a photo of me. You can do that on your phone.”
“Okay.”
“Then, I’ll need you to collect a rodent passport form.”
“Where would I get one of those?”
“I’ll give you one guess.”
“Everything Rodent?”
“Got it in one. If you let me have the form, I can take it from there.”
“Okay.”
Sheesh! If I wasn’t running around after cats or dogs, it was hamsters. My life just wasn’t my own.
***
It took me a while to find the houses where Aunt Lucy’s friend, Rhoda, lived. Pixie Court was in the Pixie Central area of Washbridge where all the buildings were tiny.
The roof of her house only came up to my knee, so I was forced to get down on all-fours in order to knock at the tiny red door.
“Hello?” The female pixie looked up at me.
“Are you Rhoda Riddle?”
“That’s me. You must be Jill. Lucy said she was going to ask you to come over.”
“I understand your son has gone missing?”
“That’s right. Would you like a drink? The cups will be rather small for you, I’m afraid.”
“No, I’m okay, thanks.”
“Do you have much experience in finding missing pixies?”
“I have to be honest. This is my first pixie-related case. I have had some experience in tracking down missing persons in the human world, though. When did Robbie go missing?”
“Three days ago.”
“How old is he?”
“Twenty. He’s in his last year at college.”
“Is it possible that he’s with a friend? Or a girlfriend?”
“Robbie is engaged to a wonderful girl named Maddy. I’ve already checked with her; she’s just as worried as I am. We’ve contacted all of his friends too. No one has seen him. This isn’t like Robbie, Jill. He’s hardly ever late in, and if he is going to be, he always lets me know.”
“Where was he, the last time you saw him?”
“He left the house around midday on Saturday. He told me he was going to meet Lionel—he’s one of
Robbie’s friends, but when I checked, Lionel said he hadn’t seen Robbie, and that they’d never arranged to meet that day.”
“Robbie lied to you?”
“It seems that way, but Robbie never lies. I’m really worried, Jill.”
“Understandably. I’ll need a recent photograph of Robbie, and a list of all his friends.”
“Of course. I can have that ready in an hour.”
“Could you possibly drop the photo and info off at Aunt Lucy’s? I’ll pick it up from there later.”
“No problem. Do you think you’ll be able to find him?”
“I’ll do my best. In the meantime, try not to worry. I’m sure he’ll be okay.”
***
Bill Ratman was behind the counter at Everything Rodent.
“Hello, young lady. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you in here. How’s—err—whatshisname?”
“Hamlet. He’s fine, thanks. He was reading Wodehouse when I left him.”
“Ah, yes. Jeeves is quite popular with the hamsters. Now, what can I do for you, today?”
“I understand that you have rodent passport application forms?”
“We do.”
“Good.”
“Normally.”
My heart sank. “Normally?”
“We’re all out at the moment. I’m waiting for a fresh batch from the Rodent Passport Authority. If you have the time to pop over there, you could pick up some for me.”
This was beginning to feel a lot like déjà vu.
“Before I go over there, are you sure they’re stocked up with toner cartridges? I don’t want a repeat of what happened when I went to get the Rodent Match forms.”
“Oh, yes.” He grinned. “I’d forgotten all about that. You have nothing to worry about this time, though. They bought three new toners only ten days ago.”
“Okay. You’d better give me directions then.”
Chapter 3
I fell for it every time. Bill Ratman at Everything Rodent had assured me that the Rodent Passport Authority would have the forms, but they were all out of them. To make matters worse, they couldn’t print any more because—wait for it. No, they weren’t out of toner cartridges; they were out of paper. And guess who they bought their paper from? You got it—Everything Rodent. Ninety minutes later, and I was exhausted. I’d been back to Everything Rodent to collect the paper, and then back to the Rodent Passport Authority where I’d had to wait while they printed the forms. Once I had those, I’d made yet another trip to Everything Rodent, to drop them off, and then went back to Aunt Lucy’s.
“There you go, Hamlet.” I held out the form.
“I don’t need it now.” He barely looked up from his book. “I’ve just heard that the cruise has been cancelled. I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble.”
“Trouble?” I had to bite my lip. “No, not at all.”
***
I magicked myself back to Washbridge, and as I made my way to the office, I noticed several posters that featured the picture of a chameleon. The wording simply read: Chameleon – coming soon! Prepare to be amazed. It was all very intriguing, but gave no clue as to what it was about.
The atmosphere in the outer office was still frosty. It was obvious that Mrs V and Jules weren’t talking; they weren’t even looking at one another. I would have to sort out that situation sooner or later, but after my rodent exploits, I wasn’t in the mood for it right then.
“What’s going on out there?” Winky was sitting on my desk.
“What do you mean?”
“I realise that you’re not the most observant person in the world, but even you must have spotted there are two desks out there?”
“It’s nothing. Just a storm in a teacup.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s your problem, right there. You’re too indecisive.”
“No, I’m not. Am I? Maybe, I am. I don’t know.”
“I rest my case. It’s obvious what you should do.”
“What’s that?”
“Sack the old bag lady. I’ve been telling you that for ages. Jules is much more pleasing to the eye.”
“That’s ageist.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s ugliest. Let’s be honest, the old bag lady is well past her sell-by date.”
“Just like Kathy’s custard creams.”
“What?”
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter. And, no, I’m not getting rid of Mrs V. She may not be in her prime, but she has bags of experience, and you can’t put a price on that.”
“Is that why you don’t pay her? Because you can’t put a price on it?”
Just then, there was a commotion in the outer office. Moments later, my door burst open, and both Jules and Mrs V tried to step inside. Unfortunately, the gap wasn’t wide enough to accommodate them both at the same time, so they became wedged in the doorway.
“What’s going on?” I was rapidly losing patience with them.
“You have a visitor, Jill,” they said, in almost perfect harmony.
I wasn’t expecting anyone. Not that day, or the next, or the next or—you get the picture.
“Who is it?”
“Sheila Bowlings,” Jules blurted out.
“A Mrs Bowlings,” Mrs V said.
“Okay. Will one of you please send her in?”
It took a few seconds for them to dislodge themselves from the doorway, but then both women disappeared back into the outer office. When they returned, Mrs V was leading the way, followed by the client who was in turn followed by Jules. It looked as though they might break into the conga at any moment.
“Thanks, Jules, Mrs V. That will be all.”
“I’ve never known anyone have two receptionists before.” Mrs Bowlings looked understandably puzzled.
“It’s an experiment.”
“They both tried to give me a scarf, but I told them that I’m allergic to wool. It brings me out in hives.”
“Nasty. Won’t you have a seat? Can I get you a drink?”
“Not for me, thanks.”
That came as something of a relief. The last thing I needed was Jules and Mrs V fighting over who would make it.
“How can I help you, Mrs Bowlings?”
“Call me Sheila. My husband has gone missing.”
Two missing person cases in the same day? That was a first.
“When and where did he go missing?”
“Brendan, that’s his name, went fishing on Friday. That was the last time I saw him.”
“That’s only a few days ago. Does he sometimes stay away from home?”
“Never. Brendan is a home bird. I don’t remember the last time he spent the night away. He’s usually back from fishing by seven o’ clock. Eight at the very latest.”
“Does he have a phone? Have you tried calling him?”
“He does, and I have, but it seems to be switched off.”
“Where does he go fishing?”
“To Wash Point.”
“My brother-in-law fishes there.”
“Brendan has been going there for years. He loves his fishing.”
“Have you spoken to the police?”
“Yes—twice now, but they’re not interested. They said to go back if he hasn’t turned up in a week’s time. They say this sort of thing happens all the time, and that I shouldn’t worry.”
“It’s true that most ‘missing’ people turn up under their own steam within a couple of days.”
“Brendan would never go off anywhere without letting me know. He knows how much I worry.”
“I’m sorry to have to ask this, Sheila, but have the two of you been having any problems, lately? Any arguments?”
“No, nothing like that. Our marriage is solid. We hardly ever have a cross word.”
“Okay. Sorry, but I had to ask. Where does your husband work?”
“He works for the council—in Weights and Measures. It’s all he has ever done.�
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“What about friends? Fishing buddies?”
“Brendan doesn’t really have any friends. The only time he ever goes out is with me, or when he goes fishing alone. I know he chats to some of the other fishermen, but I don’t know their names.”
“When he left home on Friday, did he seem his normal self?”
“He was just the same as usual.” She’d managed to hold it together until then, but now tears began to run down her cheeks. “He kissed me, and told me he loved me. Just like he always does.”
“Do you have a photograph of your husband that you could email to me?”
“Yes. I’ll do it as soon as I get home.”
After she’d left, it occurred to me that it might be worth asking Peter about Brendan Bowlings. They both went fishing in the same spot. Perhaps Peter would know him.
***
Twenty minutes later, my office door opened, and in walked my two PAs. Between them, they were carrying a large package, wrapped in brown paper.
“Where do you want this?” Mrs V said. “It’s heavy.”
“Anywhere. Just drop it on the floor. Thanks.”
I waited until they were back in the outer office before I started to unwrap it. As far as I was aware, I wasn’t expecting anything.
“Huh? Moonlight Gym?” The A5 glossy flyers had obviously been delivered to the wrong address. I double-checked the label, but it was definitely addressed to me.
Winky suddenly appeared at my side. “They didn’t take as long as I’d expected.”
“Are these for you?”
“They most certainly are.” He took the one I was holding, and began to study it. “They’ve made an excellent job of them, don’t you think?”
“Why were they addressed to me?”
“Because your name is on the credit card, of course.”
“Silly me. I should have known. What’s Moonlight Gym, anyway?”
“My new business venture. It’s guaranteed to make my fortune.”
“Oh no you don’t. You’re not turning my office into a gym, even if it is only open during the night.” I’d established that much from the flyer. The Moonlight Gym was scheduled to open between the hours of midnight and five in the morning. “No one is going to go to a gym at that hour.”