by Adele Abbott
“Devastated.” Hugh was at least a foot taller than his wife. “Totally devastated.”
Curiously, neither of them looked even the tiniest bit upset. Maybe they were putting on a brave face for our benefit.
The Hedges allowed Kathy and me to look around by ourselves.
“This will be Lizzie’s bedroom. That’s going to be Mikey’s. And this one will be ours.”
“It’s enormous.”
“I know. We’ll have a spare bedroom too. Pete and I will be able to use that as an office.”
I looked out of the window. “The back garden is huge.”
“Pete fell in love with it as soon as he saw it.”
“I still don’t get why they dropped the price. Surely with a property of this calibre they didn’t need to.”
“Shush! Don’t let them hear you say that. I don’t want them to change their minds before we’ve exchanged contracts.”
If there was anything wrong with the property, I certainly didn’t spot it during my tour of the house and garden. It was about as perfect as perfect could be, and I could see why Kathy was so excited about it.
“Tell me honestly, Jill.” Kathy was still buzzing on the drive back to her house. “What do you think of it?”
“It’s lovely, but it’ll take a lot of cleaning.”
“Pete and I have already talked about that. We’re going to pay for a weekly clean.”
“Isn’t that a bit extravagant?”
“Not really. Didn’t you used to have a cleaner once upon a time?”
“Yeah, but it was more trouble than it was worth.”
“What did you think of the kitchen? I love that island.”
“That oven looked complicated. Or are you going to employ a cook too?”
“You’re not jealous, are you?”
“Of course not. I love our house.”
***
When I arrived home, Britt and Kimmy were both out on the street.
“What are you two up to?”
“We’re putting these up.” Kimmy held out a sheet of paper, which turned out to be a missing poster for Lovely and Bruiser.
“They’re both still missing, then?”
“We’re really worried now, Jill,” Britt said. “They’ve been gone for so long.”
“I’m sure they’ll be okay.”
“Do you think someone might have taken them?” Kimmy said. “You hear about pets being stolen, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t have thought so. Neither of them is a pedigree, are they?”
“That doesn’t mean they aren’t precious to us,” Kimmy snapped.
“I know, I didn’t mean—err—it’s just that it’s usually the more valuable pets that are stolen.”
“Sorry, Jill. I didn’t mean to bite your head off. We’re just so worried.”
“That’s okay. I understand. I hope they turn up soon.”
***
Jack arrived home an hour later.
“I’m back!”
“In here.”
“You’ve started dinner?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Isn’t it my turn?”
“What does it matter? I’m happy to do it.”
“What’s going on, Jill?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“It takes me all my time to get you to make dinner when it is your turn.”
“It’s no trouble. Why don’t you go and get changed? When you come down, it should be ready.”
He took a seat at the kitchen table. “What’s this all about?”
“Nothing. I called at Kathy’s on the way home.”
“What did she have to say?”
“Not much. Just that they’re buying a new house; it’s in Middle Wash. She took me to see it. It’s beautiful, and huge.”
“That explains the dinner.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“We can’t afford to move to a bigger house.”
“But this place is so small.”
“It’s perfectly big enough for the two of us.”
“But her new house is really beautiful.”
“It’s not happening, Jill.” He stood up and started for the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To get changed.”
“No, you don’t.” I passed him the apron. “It’s your turn to make dinner.”
Chapter 7
The next morning when I came downstairs, Jack was standing by the kitchen sink, staring out of the back window.
“Budge over.” I made a show of squeezing past him on my way to the fridge. “This kitchen is so small.”
“We’re not moving house.”
“I never mentioned moving house.”
“You didn’t need to. You were dropping not so subtle hints all last night.”
“You should have seen Kathy’s new place, Jack. It’s beautiful.”
“I’m sure it is, and I’m very pleased for Peter and Kathy. But they do have two kids, so they need more room.”
“Your bowling paraphernalia takes up as much space as a couple of kids.”
“If we win the national lottery, I promise we’ll buy a new house.”
“We don’t even do it. Talking of lotteries, what’s first prize in the Washbridge lottery?”
“No one knows; it’s a tightly held secret.”
“What’s the betting it’ll be something really pathetic? Like a free pass for the deckchairs in the parks.”
We took our tea through to the lounge.
“What are those posters on the lampposts?” Jack pointed out of the window.
“Britt and Kimmy put them up yesterday. Their cats have gone missing.”
“Both of them?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you reckon has happened to them?”
“I don’t know. At first, I assumed they’d just gone walkabout, but it’s a bit weird that they both disappeared at the same time.”
“Do you reckon we might have a catnapper in the neighbourhood?” Jack sounded genuinely concerned.
“It’s possible, I suppose, but neither of them is a pedigree, so it’s not like they’re valuable.”
“You should investigate.”
“I’m too busy to spend my time looking for missing cats. If you’re so concerned, why don’t you look for them?”
***
I’d broken my own rule not to use magic to travel around the human world way too often recently. For that reason, and because I fancied a drive, I elected to take the car to Red Nose who were based in the centre of Manchester.
On the drive over, I was still thinking about Kathy’s new house. I knew Jack was right: We didn’t need a bigger place, and we certainly couldn’t afford one. Kathy and I had always been competitive, and pathetic as it was, I didn’t like the idea that she was doing better than I was. But instead of moaning and groaning to Jack, I knew I should be focussing on expanding the business.
Either that or divorce Jack and find myself a rich man.
What? Of course I’m joking. Sheesh!
Red Nose shared an office building with the Society of Bottle Top Manufacturers. I made a mental note to mention it to Norman the next time I saw him.
I’d just walked into reception when a gush of water hit me in the eyes.
“Good morning, and welcome to Red Nose,” said a squeaky female voice.
“Morning.” Once I’d wiped the water from my eyes, I came face to face with the receptionist who was dressed as a clown.
“I’m Petunia.” She sprayed some more water at me, but I was ready this time, and managed to duck to one side.
“I’m Trudy Lewchuse. I have an appointment with PomPom.”
She checked her computer. “Oh yes. Have a seat please, and I’ll let him know you’re here.”
“Thanks.” Before sitting down, I checked for whoopee cushions. You can never be too careful.
I’d expected PomPom to be dressed as a clown, but he
was wearing a sharp, double-breasted suit, and looked more like a city lawyer than the owner of a clown school.
“Trudy, nice to meet you.” He had a surprisingly firm handshake. “I’m sorry for the mix-up with your name when we spoke on the phone yesterday. I imagine you must get that a lot. Please come with me.”
The walls of his office were lined with photos of clowns.
“Those are some of our students who went on to do great things. You see that one? That’s Topo. You may have heard of him?”
“I don’t think so.”
“He had his own show on cable TV in the USA for a while. Take a seat, Trudy.”
“Thanks. Am I right in thinking that you combine the clown school with the talent agency?”
“That’s right. It’s pretty much fifty-fifty. As you might expect, a percentage of those who come through the school sign up with the agency afterwards.”
“And how is business?”
“Excellent. Everyone loves clowns, don’t they?”
Not everyone. “Absolutely. What’s not to love?”
“You mentioned on the phone that you were looking to hire a number of clowns?”
“That’s right. I’m putting together a stage production that will be touring the country for about six months. I’m going to need at least a dozen clowns.”
“How exciting! Might I ask what the production is?”
“I’m afraid that’s still under wraps at the moment. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course.”
“I was given the name of two companies that might be able to help in my quest. Yours and one called Clown who are based in Washbridge.”
“Clown? Really? You do realise they’re a new business? They don’t have our track record.”
“Still, I’ve heard very good things about them. I’m planning to hold auditions early next week. I’m hoping that you’d be prepared to send some of your clowns along. I’ll be asking Clown to do the same.”
“Do you intend to pick a number of clowns from each company?”
“No, I think that will overcomplicate matters. I’ll offer contracts to the clowns from whichever company puts on the best performance. Would that be something that would interest you?”
“Absolutely, although you could save yourself a lot of time and expense if you simply signed up with Red Nose today.”
“That may be true, but I’d prefer to be sure.”
“That’s your prerogative, obviously. When and where is the audition?”
“That’s still being finalised. Is it okay if I email you the details in the next couple of days?”
“Of course.”
***
Back at the office, Mrs V was looking very pleased with herself.
“What do you think, Jill?” She held out her hands.
“New gloves? They’re very colourful. Did you knit them?”
“I did, but these aren’t just any old gloves. These are special.”
“How’s that?”
“Look.” She pulled the tip off one of the glove’s fingers. “What do you think?”
“I—err—”
While I was still struggling to make sense of what I’d just seen, she pulled off the tips of the other fingers and thumbs.
“Voila!” She beamed.
“I don’t get it.”
“They’re convertible. You can wear them as either conventional gloves or fingerless.”
“Right. How do you stop the fingertips from dropping off when you don’t want them to?”
“Velcro, of course. I think I may have found a gap in the market.”
“Is there likely to be a lot of demand for convertible gloves?”
“Who wouldn’t want a pair of these? Do you think I should apply for a patent? I wouldn’t want anyone to steal my idea.”
“I don’t think that’s very likely.”
“I also need to come up with a catchy name for them. Do you have any suggestions?”
Plenty, but none I thought she’d appreciate. “I’ll give it some thought.”
Winky was on the sofa, reading a glossy brochure. “Useless.”
“What is?” As was often the case, I had no idea what he was talking about.
“That’s my suggestion for what the old bag lady should call those stupid gloves of hers.”
“That’s rather harsh.”
“Are you going to tell me you think they’re any more useful than a chocolate fireguard?”
“It’s hard to imagine who’d want to buy a pair.”
“No one, that’s who. The woman’s a liability. It’s time you got rid of her and brought back Jules.”
“Jules has another job now.”
“I should start up a petition.”
“To bring back Jules? Who’s going to sign that?”
“Everyone who reads this stuff for a start. I bet they’d all be glad to see the back of the old bag lady.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. And what’s that brochure you’re reading?”
“See for yourself.” He threw it to me.
“Feline Cruises? Is this a joke?”
“I told you that I’d had enough of the rain.”
I should have been surprised that there was such a thing as feline cruises, but I’d reached the point where nothing shocked me anymore.
I flicked through the pages of the brochure. “These are expensive.”
“I have a little put away for a rainy day.” He laughed. “And it’s pouring down right now.”
“Have you seen this? Don’t you think this a bit weird?”
“Seen what?”
“The departure point for all the cruises is Nottingham.”
“What’s so strange about that?”
“It’s in the centre of the country. It’s nowhere near the coast.”
“So? I imagine we’ll travel by coach to the port.”
“I suppose so. Are you seriously thinking of booking one of these?”
“Darn tootin’.”
“Who says that?”
“I just did. Didn’t you hear me?”
“I wish I could afford a nice holiday.” I sighed. “Or a big house.”
“Like your sister’s, you mean?”
“How do you know about that?”
“Winky knows everything.”
“Come on. How do you know?”
“Willy the Wire told me.”
“Who’s he?”
“He lives a couple of doors down from that sibling of yours. He keeps me up to speed on all their gossip.”
“He won’t be able to do that after Kathy has moved.”
“No, but Buster the Brains will. He lives next door to their new house.”
“Is he like some kind of genius?”
“No, he’s a bit slow on the uptake. The nickname is ironic.”
“Jill!” Harold appeared in the window. “They’re here!”
“Who’s here?”
“The men with the spikes. Look!” He used his wing to point to a van parked on the street, directly outside the building.
“Don’t worry. I’ll go and have a word with them.”
“Do you think you can stop them? Ida is heartbroken.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Words can’t describe the disgust that I felt when I saw the side of the van. The name, Pigeon Purge, was bad enough, but the image of cartoon pigeons skewered on spikes was beyond the pale.
“Good, ain’t it, love?” The man somehow managed to speak without dropping the cigarette wedged in the corner of his mouth. He was wearing navy blue overalls with ‘Pigeon Purge’ on the back.
“I find it all rather distasteful.”
“That’s cos you ain’t got no sense of humour.”
Another man, wearing identical overalls, climbed out of the van. “Hello, gorgeous.”
“I assume you and your colleague are here at the request of Mr Macabre?”
“That we are. You’ll be pleased to hear tha
t we’re going to get rid of all your flying rats. We’ll be starting on Thursday.”
“I assume you mean the pigeons.”
“Yep. When we’re done, there won’t be one left on this building.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” I pointed to my office. “That’s my office there.”
“The one with the cat in the window?”
“Err, that’s not a real cat. It’s a—err—an ornament.”
“It just moved.”
“Yeah, it’s a—err—mechanical ornament.”
“It’s waving at us now.”
“Never mind that. I wanted to ask you not to install those horrid spikes of yours along that section of ledge, either side of my office.”
“If we leave it clear, all the pigeons will make a beeline for it.”
“Still, I’d prefer you left it alone.”
“Sorry, love, we have our reputation to think of. How would it look if we only did half a job?”
“No one need ever know.”
“We’d know, and that’s enough.”
“But you can’t put the spikes on there.”
“Why not?”
“I—err—never mind.”
It was obvious that I’d never be able to persuade them to leave the ledge alone, so I’d just have to break the bad news to Harold.
By the time I got back to my office, Ida had joined him outside the window. He had his wing around her and was trying to console her. “It’s going to be okay, love. Jill said she’s going to sort it out for us.”
Oh bum!
Ida saw me through her tears. “What happened, Jill? Are we going to lose our home?”
“I—err—”
“Of course we aren’t, are we, Jill?” Harold said.
All eyes were on me now. I felt terrible, but what could I do? I’d done my best. I’d just have to be brutally honest. There was no point in trying to sugarcoat it. So of course, I said, “Don’t worry, you won’t lose your home. I managed to persuade them not to put spikes on this ledge.”
Both of their little faces lit up, and they hugged one another.
“Thank you so much, Jill.” Ida began to cry again, but this time with tears of happiness.
“If there’s ever anything we can do for you, just say the word,” Harold said, and then he led Ida away.