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

by Adele Abbott

  Things didn’t exactly work out the way I’d envisaged them, though.

  How was I supposed to know that the questions would all be based upon the feline world?

  “Who discovered America?” the quizmaster asked.

  I hit the buzzer.

  “Yes, Trixie Lace?”

  “Most people think it was Columbus, but there’s a school of thought that it may in fact have been Eriksson.” That answer should definitely have been worth double points in my opinion.

  “Incorrect. Anyone else?”

  I was about to object when Winky buzzed.

  “Yes, Winky?”

  “America was discovered by Eddie the Explorer.”

  “Correct. Eddie was of course aboard the Santa Maria. If you look on your screens, you’ll see a painting of the intrepid explorer.”

  This was ridiculous. Eddie didn’t discover America. He was just a cat who had stowed away aboard Columbus’ ship.

  And things went downhill from there.

  Who invented the printing press? Gutenberg, I hear you say. But no. Apparently the genius behind that was in fact Peter the Print.

  Who developed the theory of relativity? You may well think it was Einstein, but in fact that particular honour goes to Philip the Physics.

  Who knew?

  Not me, that’s who.

  When the final buzzer sounded, Winky was way ahead on one-hundred and twenty points. Meanwhile, I was on minus twenty-five.

  “Bad luck, Trixie Lace,” Winky said as we made our way back to the green room. “There were some tough questions today.”

  “Well done on getting through to the final,” I managed to say through gritted teeth.

  “Will you stay to watch me?”

  “I’d love to, but I have —err—stuff to do.”

  ***

  I was still grumbling to myself when I arrived home. What kind of quiz contest only asked questions related to felines?

  Yes, yes, I do realise the answer to that question is a quiz for cats, but that doesn’t make it any less ridiculous.

  I’d no sooner stepped out of the car than Britt came hurrying over to see me.

  “Jill, do you have a minute?”

  “Actually, I—err—”

  “I won’t take up much of your time, I promise.”

  “Sure. Have you found Lovely yet?”

  “No. Kit says she’ll turn up soon, but I’m beginning to fear the worst.”

  I considered telling her about Winky’s two friends who had also disappeared, but I figured that would only make her worry even more. “I’m sure Kit’s right. She’ll be back soon.”

  “I do hope so. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about Jack’s poetry recital. Or should I say, Robert?” She winked at me. “Jack has probably told you that he’s agreed to do a reading for my poetry society.”

  “He did mention something about it.”

  “Well, the thing is, the guest who was scheduled to attend this month’s meeting has cried off at the last minute. Something about a verruca, I believe. That leaves us without a guest reader for the meeting on Thursday evening.”

  “This Thursday?”

  “Yes, I was just wondering if Jack might be able to step into the breach, so to speak. I realise it’s very short notice, but it would be doing us a massive favour.”

  For once the fates had looked kindly on me. This had given me a golden opportunity to get out of the stupid poetry reading.

  “I’m sure he would have loved to help you out, but I happen to know he has a longstanding engagement on Thursday night. A police federation thing, I believe.”

  “Oh well, it can’t be helped. It’s a little disappointing because the next meeting won’t be for another three months.”

  “He’ll be gutted, I’m sure.”

  My short chat with Britt had certainly lifted my mood. Three months from now, she would most likely have grown bored with the whole poetry thing, which would mean I was off the hook.

  Result!

  ***

  I was so pleased about the cancellation of the poetry reading that I decided to make dinner, even though, strictly speaking, it wasn’t my turn.

  “I’m home.” Jack breezed into the kitchen looking very pleased with himself. “That smells good, but isn’t it my day to make dinner?”

  “It should be, but I thought it would be nice to give you a little surprise.”

  “Thank you, darling.” He gave me a peck on the cheek. “You’re so good to me.”

  “That’s true, and if you play your cards right, I’ll have an even nicer surprise for you later this evening.”

  His face lit up. “That sounds like fun.”

  “It will be, trust me.”

  “This is delicious.” He nodded his approval. “You’ve surpassed yourself today.”

  “Thank you.”

  “By the way, I bumped into Britt on the way in. She seemed a little down in the dumps.”

  “She’s worried about Lovely.”

  “That’s true, but it wasn’t only that. She was disappointed that I wouldn’t be able to attend their poetry society meeting on Thursday.”

  “Yeah, about that. I—err—”

  “She seemed to be under the impression that I had to attend a police federation thing.”

  “I might have—err—”

  “Anyway, I told her that I didn’t have anything on this Thursday, and that I’d be happy to do the reading.”

  “You did what?”

  “I told her that you must have made a mistake.” He was grinning from ear to ear. “That is what happened, isn’t it, Jill?”

  “I’d talked my way out of doing that stupid reading, but now, thanks to you, it’s back on again. What were you thinking?”

  “That this is all of your own making. You shouldn’t have used my identity when you collected the trophy.”

  “What if I call your bluff and refuse to do the reading? You’ll have to do it then.”

  “No, I won’t. Rhymes is your tortoise, so this is your responsibility.” Jack put his knife and fork on the empty plate. “That was delicious. I can’t wait until later for my other surprise.”

  “Dream on, buddy. You’ve got no chance.”

  ***

  Later that evening, Jack and I were in the lounge. I still hadn’t completely forgiven him for the poetry reading incident, but we had at least called a truce.

  He cuddled closer to me on the sofa. “Now that we’re friends again, how about that little surprise you promised me?”

  “You don’t deserve it.”

  “Come on. You know you want to.”

  He was right, and I could feel my resistance melting. “Okay, but—” Just then, there was a knock at the door. “Who’s that?”

  “I’ll go and see.” Jack was up on his feet.

  “If it’s one of the neighbours, get rid of them. Don’t invite them in whatever you do.”

  Moments later, he called from the hallway, “Jill, it’s Mrs V and Armi.”

  Mrs V? She’d never called at our house before. It must be something urgent, so I hurried out into the hall.

  “Mrs V? Is something wrong?”

  “Of course not, dear. I hope you don’t mind us dropping by like this, but we’ve just viewed a house a couple of miles from here. I suggested to Armi that we pop in so he could see his cuckoo clock. He’s dying to see it on your wall.”

  Jack glanced at me and mouthed the words, “Cuckoo clock?”

  Ignoring him, I did the only thing I could.

  Lie, big time.

  “That’s such a shame. Any other time, and it would have been fine. It’s just that we—err—we have the carpet fitter in the lounge at the moment.”

  I daren’t look at Jack; I could only imagine what he was thinking.

  “I didn’t see their van,” Mrs V said. That woman was way too observant.

  “No, that’s because—err—his partner dropped him and the carpet off, and then went to do another job. He�
��ll be picking him up later.”

  “I can’t hear anything in there.” Mrs V leaned closer to the lounge door.

  “That’s one of their selling points, isn’t it, Jack? In fact, they call themselves Silent Carpets.”

  “Never mind,” Armi said. “I told you we should have called ahead, Annabel.”

  “Maybe we could come back another day?” Mrs V suggested.

  “Err, yeah. No problem.”

  “Would you like a drink while you’re here?” Jack said.

  “No, thanks. We should be getting back. It’s almost our bedtime, isn’t it, Armi?”

  “Yes, dear, but thanks for the offer.”

  After seeing them out, Jack turned his gaze on me.

  “What?” I shrugged.

  “What did you do with it?”

  “With what?”

  “You know what. The cuckoo clock that Armi made specially for you?”

  “I—err, you know, I honestly can’t remember.”

  “Jill!”

  “Okay. It’s in the spare bedroom.”

  “What’s it doing in there?”

  “Have you ever spent any time in the same room as a cuckoo clock?”

  “No, but I’ve always liked them.”

  “That’s only because you’ve never had to put up with one cuckooing all day. I have, and it’s enough to drive you insane.”

  “Why did you accept it in the first place, then?”

  “I didn’t like to hurt Armi’s feelings by turning it down.”

  “You do realise that we’re going to have to put it up in the lounge before they come back.”

  “I know.”

  “And what was all that rubbish about carpet fitters?”

  “It was the best I could come up with.”

  “Why didn’t you use magic?”

  “Silly me. Why didn’t I think of that? I could have used the move the cuckoo clock out of the spare bedroom and mount it in the lounge spell. Anyway, they believed me, didn’t they? So it’s all good.”

  “Not really.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The carpet in the lounge has seen better days. When Mrs V and Armi come back, they’re going to realise you were lying about the carpet fitters.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying we’re going to have to get a new carpet fitted before they return.”

  Oh bum!

  Chapter 17

  The next morning, over breakfast, Jack seemed somewhat distracted.

  “Penny for them?” I nudged him.

  “Sorry?”

  “You were miles away.”

  “I was thinking about the lottery.”

  “That thing? I wouldn’t get your hopes up. We’ve no chance of winning.”

  “We’ll soon know. The winners are going to be announced on the local news any minute now.”

  “Have you always been such an optimist?”

  “It’s better than being an eternal pessimist like you.”

  “At least I’m never disappointed.”

  “Come and watch with me.” He jumped up and headed to the lounge.

  “No thanks. It’s a waste of time. I’ll stay here and finish my coffee.”

  Less than a minute later, there was an almighty cheer. “Yes! Get in there!”

  Just how gullible did he think I was? If he expected me to go charging in there, just so he could say gotcha, he had another think coming.

  “We won!” He came rushing into the kitchen.

  “Sure we did.”

  “It’s true, honestly, we did. Or at least, you did.”

  “What do you mean, I did?”

  “I made a note of the ticket numbers, and yours just won first prize.”

  “Is this some kind of wind-up?”

  “No, I swear. You can double-check it on the website.”

  “What is first prize?”

  “No one knows. It’s the only prize they haven’t announced in advance. It must be something really spectacular.”

  “When do I get to find out what I’ve won?”

  “Not until you go to collect it from the council offices on Saturday. It sounds like they’re going to make a really big deal of it. The local radio and TV are bound to be there. Where is your ticket, anyway?”

  That was a good question. In fact, it was a very good question.

  “It’s in my handbag.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I am.”

  But it wasn’t.

  Not in my handbag or in the pockets of any of the clothes I’d worn in the last two weeks. What had I done with it?

  “Did you find it?” Jack shouted when I came back downstairs.

  “Yeah. Got it.”

  “Put it somewhere safe. That ticket is very valuable.”

  “Don’t worry, I will.” I gave him a quick kiss. “See you tonight.”

  ***

  “I’m really sorry about last night, Mrs V.”

  “That’s alright, dear. We should have called ahead instead of just dropping by unannounced like that. How does your new carpet look?”

  “It’s—err—very nice.”

  “What colour is it?”

  “It’s—err—green.”

  “Lovely. I look forward to seeing it when we pop over again. By the way, did you know the winning lottery numbers have been announced?”

  “Yeah. I won first prize, apparently.”

  “You don’t look very pleased about it.”

  “I would be if I hadn’t lost the ticket.”

  “You haven’t, have you?”

  “It looks that way.”

  “What did Jack say?”

  “He doesn’t know yet. I was hoping I might find it, but I’ve looked everywhere and there’s no trace.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “Who’s your favourite cat?” Winky was looking remarkably pleased with himself.

  “Not you.”

  “Really? In that case, you won’t be wanting this.” He held up a slip of paper.

  “I don’t have time for your—wait a minute—is that—?”

  “Your winning lottery ticket? Yes, I believe it is.”

  “Where did you find it?”

  “It was under your desk. Now, tell me again, who’s your favourite cat?”

  “You are!” I picked him up and gave him a big hug.

  “Put me down, woman.”

  “Sorry.” I grabbed the ticket. “Thank you. You’ve saved my skin.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “Is that it? You must want something in return.”

  “For simply doing the right thing? Of course not. Your happiness is reward enough.”

  “Aren’t you feeling well?”

  “I’m feeling great, and very pleased with life. And do you know why?”

  “Why?”

  He reached under the sofa and produced a trophy. “Guess who won the quiz last night?”

  “I’m not surprised. You were the best contestant by far.”

  “How can you possibly know that?”

  That was a very good question. “I—err—I just figured you would be. You’re one smart cat.”

  “That’s very true. It was a walk in the park. I won the final by thirty clear points.”

  “Well done you.”

  “Thanks. Mind you, the standard of competition was pretty poor. Even worse than I expected it to be.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. One contestant in particular: A proper little cutie called Trixie Lace. She was quite a looker, but honestly, she was as thick as two short planks.”

  The cheek of the cat. Still, he had found my winning lottery ticket, so I would let him off this once. And besides, I was never going to let on that I’d been Trixie Lace. If I had, I would never have heard the end of it.

  ***

  I’d promised to pay a visit to Cuppy C for the grand opening of the cat café. I couldn’t help but think that the twins had rather rushed into thi
s particular endeavour, but fingers-crossed things would go swimmingly.

  Who was I trying to kid?

  “Where are the cats?” I glanced around the tearoom, but there wasn’t a single feline to be seen.

  “Amber’s in the back with them.” Pearl looked and sounded harassed.

  “How come you’re both here today?”

  “Mum agreed to have Lil and Lily so we could focus on the big launch, but everything’s already gone pear-shaped.”

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “The milkman hasn’t turned up. He would normally have made his delivery a couple of hours ago. We’re down to our last couple of pints.”

  “Where is he?”

  “We don’t know. Amber is ringing the depot now.”

  As if on cue, Amber came through from the back, and it was obvious from the look on her face that all was not well. “They don’t know where he is.”

  “What do you mean, they don’t know?” Pearl said.

  “That’s what they told me. Apparently, they’ve found his van, but there’s no sign of him.”

  “Well that’s just great! What are they going to do?”

  “They’re sending a reserve driver over there now to continue with the round. They reckon we should have our delivery in about an hour.”

  “What are we supposed to do until then?”

  “Tell everyone they’ll have to take their drinks black?” I suggested.

  The twins both glared at me. “You’re not being helpful, Jill!”

  “Sorry. How about nipping out to a local shop to pick up a few pints until the main delivery arrives?”

  “That would be great, Jill, thanks.” Amber reached into the till and grabbed twenty pounds. “You’ll have to hurry, though.”

  “I—err—I didn’t mean—”

  She thrust the cash into my hand. “Go on. Get going. There’s no time to lose.”

  “Yeah, hurry up.” Pearl ushered me to the door. “And bring a mix of whole milk, semi-skimmed and skimmed.”

  “Right. Okay. Where is the closest shop, by the way?”

  It turned out to be a ten-minute walk away. And who knew milk could be so heavy?

  Breathless and with my legs about to collapse under me, I arrived back at Cuppy C just over twenty minutes later.