Witch Is How Dreams Became Reality (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 32)

by Adele Abbott

  “Excuse me.” I beckoned to one of the people wearing a name badge. “Do you work for the publisher?”

  “I do. How can I help?”

  “I was just wondering how long the presentation ceremony is likely to last. I only ask because I have to make the last train home.”

  “No more than three hours I wouldn’t have thought.”

  “Three hours?”

  “Most people are going to stay overnight. We’ve laid on drinks at a nearby hotel afterwards.”

  “Unfortunately, I won’t be able to stay for that. Do you know when the poetry award will take place?”

  “They’re being presented in alphabetical order, so it’s going to be towards the end, I’m afraid.”

  “Right, thanks.” That was just dandy. So much for my hopes of making a quick exit.

  I had no choice but to take a seat in the audience and wait until it was time for the poetry award to be presented.

  Two hours later, and I’d practically lost the will to live. Who knew there were so many different genres? And why did all of the winners feel the need to thank everyone, from their editor through to their third cousin, twice removed? I could barely keep my eyes open. If this went on for much longer there was a danger I’d fall—

  “Excuse me!” The man I’d spoken to earlier nudged me awake. “You won the poetry award, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “They’re calling your name.” He gestured towards the stage.

  “Is Mr Robert Hymes with us tonight?” The woman with the microphone was looking around the audience.

  “That’s me!” I stood up and made my way on stage.

  “I was beginning to think you hadn’t made it tonight, Robert.” She handed me the tiny trophy. “Congratulations. Would you like to say a few words?”

  “Err—okay. Thank you very much for this award.”

  Having delivered the shortest speech of the night, I made my way back to my seat. There were just three more awards to get through, and then I’d be able to escape.

  Fifteen minutes later, and the torture had finally ended. Clutching the trophy, I started for the exit.

  “Jack! Over here, Jack!”

  I froze as I heard the familiar voice of Britt.

  “Oh? Hi, Britt.”

  “You’re a dark horse.” Kit came to join us.

  “I—err—”

  “All this time you pretended the author was a friend of yours.” Britt grinned. “Why did you decide to publish under a pen name, Jack?”

  “No, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m collecting this for Robert Hymes.”

  “Of course.” Kit winked at me. “We understand, don’t we, Britt?”

  “Absolutely. Your secret is safe with us.”

  Oh bum! “Anyway, I’d better get going.”

  “You can’t leave yet. The publisher has organised a small party at the hotel two doors down.”

  “But I’ll miss my train.”

  “Don’t worry about that, old man.” Kit slapped me on the shoulder. “We’ve got the car. You can come back with us. And don’t worry, I’ll only be drinking cola.”

  “Right. Great.”

  The drinks party went on for another two hours during which time, Britt grilled me, AKA Jack, AKA Robert Hymes, about my/his poetry. She’d actually gone to the trouble of purchasing a copy of Robert Hymes’ book, so she was able to discuss each individual poem in turn.

  And the purgatory didn’t end there because her interrogation continued on the drive back. By the time we arrived home, I would gladly have taken that book and shoved it—well, you get the picture, I’m sure.

  Chapter 13

  It was Saturday morning, and Jack wasn’t very happy because, just before seven o’clock, he’d received a text telling him he was needed in work.

  “There’s no orange juice.” He slammed the fridge door closed.

  “There’s a new bottle at the back of the fridge.”

  “Why did you hide it there?”

  “I didn’t hide it, and there’s no need to get ratty with me just because you have to go into work.”

  “Sorry, it’s just that I was looking forward to us having a lazy day together.” He poured himself a glass of juice. “What time did you get in last night? I didn’t hear you.”

  “It was gone midnight.”

  “How come? I thought you planned to get in and out of the ceremony as quickly as you could.”

  “I did, but it turned out that there were a million different awards, and poetry was one of the last ones to be given out.”

  “Were there many people there?”

  “More than I expected.”

  “Where is Rhymes’ trophy?”

  “It’s only a tiny little thing. It’s still in my bag in the bedroom.”

  “I’ll have a look at it when I go up to get changed. The little guy will be thrilled.”

  “He’d better be.”

  “When are you going to take it to him?”

  “It’s Witchgiving today. I may as well take it then.”

  “You get to go to all the cool parties.”

  “Are you kidding? If it’s only half as bad as Aunt Lucy described it, then it’s going to be truly awful. Just having to spend a few hours in Grandma’s company is bad enough.”

  Jack had gone upstairs to change when there was a knock at the door.

  It was a banana. A giant one with legs, arms and a face. But that wasn’t the weirdest part. On top of its head was a tiny Grandma.

  “Why do you have Grandma on your head?”

  “So that’s where I put her.” The banana grabbed Grandma. “I’ve been looking everywhere for her.”

  “Don’t eat her!” I screamed.

  “Jill? Who are you shouting at?” Jack came to see what was going on.

  “Err, nothing.”

  The giant banana and mini-Grandma had disappeared.

  “You were talking to someone.” He looked out of the door. “Who was it?”

  “No-one. Something weird is going on, though. My dreams keep coming to life.”

  “You’ve probably just been overdoing it. You should take a few days off work.”

  “I can’t. I have cases I need to work on.”

  “Come and sit down. Let me make you a cup of sweet tea.”

  “I don’t need a cup of tea,” I snapped.

  “Now who’s being ratty?”

  “Sorry, you’re right. Come here and give me a kiss.”

  He didn’t need asking twice. “Is that better?”

  “Much. Did you take a look at the trophy?”

  “Yeah. You weren’t kidding when you said it was tiny.” He reached into his pocket and held out a green stone. “And what’s this?”

  “Where did you find that?” I took it from him.

  “It was in your bag. Have you started collecting rocks? What kind of rock is it?”

  “I have no idea,” I lied, and then I quickly changed the subject. “Did you know that Little Jack has introduced a loyalty card?”

  “No, I haven’t been in the Corner Shop for a few days. Did you sign us up?”

  “You bet I did. Just think of all the free custard creams we can earn.”

  “How many points do you get per pound spent?”

  “I don’t know; Jack didn’t say. I’ll have a look to see what I got for yesterday’s shop.” I grabbed the laptop, typed the URL for Little Jack’s website, and then entered my card number. “Wow! I’ve got ten thousand points.”

  “How much is that worth?”

  “Hang on, let me check.” I scrolled through the on-screen info. “Ten pounds.”

  “How much did you spend yesterday?”

  “About ten pounds.”

  “That can’t be right. You can’t possibly have earned ten pounds when you only spent that amount.”

  “Maybe it’s some kind of promotion for new sign-ups to the loyalty card?”

  “It could be, but after the shopping app fiasco, m
y money would be on it being an error.”

  “I’d better get down there quick to spend the points before he realises.”

  “You can’t do that, Jill. It would be taking advantage of Little Jack.”

  “I was only joking. Sheesh!”

  I waited until Jack had left, and then took out the green stone to have a closer look. How had it ended up in my bag? I intended to find out.

  ***

  I magicked myself over to Candlefield, only to discover that the shop I planned on visiting was closed, even though the sign in the window said it should have opened twenty minutes earlier.

  Fortunately, the coffee shop next door, Bean A While, was open for business.

  “Morning.” The female vampire behind the counter greeted me with a smile full of fangs.

  “Good morning.”

  “What can I get for you?”

  “I fancy a cappuccino.”

  “Small, medium or large?”

  “Just a small one, please. You don’t happen to know if the shop next door is open today, do you? I tried the door, but it’s locked.”

  “Edward is never on time. He usually gets here by ten.”

  “Right. In that case, make it a medium cup, and I’ll have some toast too, please.”

  “Coming up. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are you Jill Maxwell?”

  “I am, yes.”

  “I thought I recognised you. I’m Poppy. My flatmate has your poster on the back of the door in his bedroom.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, he throws darts at it.”

  “Oh?”

  “It’s nothing personal. It’s just that he had a bet on you to win the Elite Competition, so when you bailed because of that dragon, he wasn’t very chuffed.”

  “Right, I see.”

  “By the way, I apologise for the fangs.” She tapped one of them. “I wouldn’t normally have them extended like this; it isn’t very polite. It’s all down to that new toothpaste. You’ve probably heard about it?”

  “No, I can’t say I have.”

  “It’s called Fangbrite, and it’s supposed to make your teeth and fangs whiter than white, and to be fair it does. The problem is that it also stops the fangs receding. I didn’t know that until I’d used it. It’ll be a couple of days before these things start to behave. I hope you didn’t think I was being aggressive?”

  “No, of course not.”

  I’d just finished my toast when I spotted the arrival of the owner of the shop next door.

  “Thanks, Poppy.”

  “Call again any time. Hopefully, next time, you won’t have to put up with these.” She treated me to a final look at her impressive fangs.

  Next door, the shop was now open, but there was no sign of life inside.

  “Hello? Anyone home?”

  “Hold on! I’ll be with you in a minute.” The man’s voice came from behind the door at the rear of the shop.

  Moments later, Edward Hedgelog appeared. As soon as he saw me, he froze, and the look of horror on his face confirmed my suspicions.

  “Hello again, Edward. Remember me?”

  “Jill? This is a pleasant surprise.”

  “Is it? Is it, though? Really?”

  “I don’t know what you mean?”

  “Seriously? Is that the way you want to play this?”

  He slumped into the metal framed chair, took a deep breath, and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  I took out the dream-stone. “What I don’t understand is how you got this into my bag.”

  “Do you remember the other day when you came out of your office and bumped into—”

  “The clown! That was you!”

  “I was sure you’d recognise me. I couldn’t believe my luck when I got away with it.”

  “You must have realised I’d find the stone sooner or later?”

  “I didn’t expect you to realise what it was.”

  “I might not have done if it hadn’t been for the freaky dream stuff.”

  “What stuff? What’s happened?”

  “Since you planted the stone in my bag, my dreams have come to life on three separate occasions.”

  “I’m so sorry. I should have realised that might happen.”

  “Why did you do it Edward?”

  “I’ve never wanted the stone. I wish I’d never found the thing. It’s caused me nothing but problems.”

  “But why give it to me?”

  “I’d come to the end of my tether. I only had three people in the shop all last week, and none of them were interested in getting their bikes repaired. They just wanted me to help with their dreams.”

  “How did they even know about you?”

  “I don’t know. It’s not like I broadcast the fact that I have the dream-stone. Word just seems to get around, and once they know my name, I’m not that difficult to track down.”

  “Why don’t you just take the stone back to CASS? That’s where it came from in the first place.”

  “Don’t you think I’ve tried? Three times I’ve returned it, and each time it’s found its way back to me.”

  “How?”

  “I have no idea. I half-expected it to do the same thing when I put it in your bag, but it didn’t. That has to be significant.”

  “I’m sorry, Edward, but I don’t want it.” I held out the stone.

  “Will you return it to CASS for me, Jill? It might stay there if you take it back.”

  “I’m not sure about—”

  “Please! I’m at my wits’ end.”

  “Okay, but if it still finds its way back to you after that, you’re on your own.”

  “Thanks. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you doing this.”

  I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for Edward Hedgelog. The only thing he’d ever wanted to do with his life was to repair bikes. And yet, a chance discovery when he’d been a pupil at CASS had changed his life forever.

  Jack finding the dream-stone had come as something of a relief because it explained all the weird dreams that had seemingly come to life. Until then, I was beginning to worry that I was going crazy.

  ***

  After a leisurely walk to Aunt Lucy’s house, I took a deep breath, and tried to prepare myself for the day ahead. Surely Witchgiving couldn’t be as bad as she’d made it out to be.

  Could it?

  “You’re early, Jill.” Aunt Lucy was in the lounge.

  “I was in Candlefield, so I thought I might as well come over now. Is that okay? I can come back later if you’re in the middle of preparations.”

  “No, it’s fine.”

  “You look tired.”

  “I am. I had a broken night’s sleep, thanks to Lester.”

  “He’s not ill, is he?”

  “No, he’s not poorly. The silly man decided to go walkabout at two o’clock this morning.”

  “Couldn’t he sleep?”

  “Oh, he was asleep. Fast asleep. He was sleepwalking.”

  “I didn’t realise he did that.”

  “He doesn’t. At least, he never has before. I woke up and realised he’d gone, and by the time I found him, he was out of the house and headed for the gate. Goodness knows where he might have ended up if I hadn’t caught up with him.”

  “Is he alright?”

  “He’s fine. Once he was back in bed, he went straight off to sleep, but I was wide awake for a couple of hours.”

  Just then, Lester walked into the room. “My ears are burning.”

  “So they should be,” Aunt Lucy said. “I can barely keep my eyes open.”

  “It’s hardly my fault, Lucy. It’s not like I chose to sleepwalk. Tell her, Jill.”

  “I’m keeping out of this.”

  The twins arrived ten minutes later.

  “Aren’t Alan, William and the little ones coming?” I said.

  “Think about it, Jill.” Amber rolled her eyes at me. “What’s today called?”

  “Witchgivi
ng—oh, right. I guess it’s not of much interest to werewolves or vampires.”

  “You could still have brought the little ones.” Aunt Lucy looked disappointed.

  “Today is already going to be hard enough without the kids to worry about,” Pearl said. “And besides, looking after Lily will take Alan’s mind off his teeth.”

  “Does he have toothache?” I said.

  “No. His fangs are stuck.”

  “Fangbrite?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Just a wild guess.”

  “What time is Grandma coming?” Pearl checked her watch.

  “She should be here any minute.” Aunt Lucy looked out of the window. “She went to collect our outfits.”

  “Do we have to wear those stupid green costumes?” Amber sighed. “They’re awful, and they make me itch.”

  “You could always try telling your grandmother that you don’t want to wear them,” Aunt Lucy said.

  Like that was ever going to happen.

  I suddenly remembered something. “Hey guys, I have to take Rhymes his trophy. Don’t start without me, will you?”

  “Jill!” Rhymes came rushing over to greet me. Relatively speaking, that is.

  “Hi, Rhymes.”

  “Have you got it?”

  “Got what?” I acted dumb.

  What do you mean, that wouldn’t be difficult?

  His little face fell. “I thought you’d brought my trophy.”

  “I’m just messing with you. It’s right here.” I took it out of the bag and handed it to him.

  What had seemed like a small trophy to me, looked enormous when he held it, and for a moment, I thought he was going to drop it.

  “This is fantastic. Just wait until Barry sees it. He’s going to be so jealous.”

  “Where is Barry?”

  “He’s gone to stay at Dolly’s for the day. Tell me all about the presentation ceremony. I want to know everything that happened.”

  And I told him, but I left out the part where I’d fallen asleep through boredom. When I’d finished, Rhymes put the trophy down, and took a couple of steps back so he could better admire it.

  “You know, Jill, I had been thinking of giving up on the poetry, but this has given me the inspiration to carry on.”