by Adele Abbott
Oh bum!
“No. Why should it?”
“According to Riley, you were responsible for tying up the butcher with sausages.”
“In New Manston?”
“The location of the butcher isn’t the central issue here, Jill. Did you, or did you not, tie up a butcher?”
“With sausages?”
“Forget the sausages. Did you tie up a butcher in New Manston?”
“No, of course I didn’t. Why would I travel all the way to New Manston to buy meat? There are plenty of butchers in Washbridge. There’s even a couple here in Smallwash.”
“Riley is adamant that you were involved. He said it had something to do with a timeshare scam that the butcher had been running.”
“Why would a butcher be running a timeshare scam?”
“I don’t know, but apparently, Mrs Rollo was one of his victims.”
“Mrs Rollo?” I did my best to look shocked. “That’s terrible.”
“It is. It seems this guy had been targeting local women who posted on the Happy Widows forum.”
“Merry.”
“Sorry?”
Me and my big mouth! “It’s the Merry Widows forum.”
“How do you know that?”
“I—err—must—err—I think Mrs Rollo must have mentioned it to me. Anyway, if that’s true, and he was ripping off innocent old ladies, then I’m glad someone took him out. With or without sausages.”
“But it definitely wasn’t you?”
“No, of course it wasn’t.”
“Okay. It seems Riley has it in for you. I told him that he must have got his wires crossed.”
I put my arms around Jack’s waist, pulled him to me, and gave him a kiss on the lips. “Aww, you stuck up for me. That’s so sweet.”
“It’s just as well Riley doesn’t work in West Chipping because I’d end up decking him.”
“Don’t do that. He isn’t worth it. By the way, I found out something rather disturbing today.”
“What’s that?”
“Do you remember I said we’d have an evening out with Mad and her new boyfriend, sometime?”
“Yes. Henry, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Well, I saw her today, and she showed me a photograph of him, and it turns out that Mad’s Henry is none other than Megan’s Harry.”
“It’s the same guy? Are you sure?”
“I couldn’t mistake that smile. It seems our vain friend Henry or Harry or whatever he’s calling himself now, is two-timing my friend and our next-door neighbour.”
“What a cad.”
“Cad? Did you really just call him a cad?”
“What’s wrong with cad?”
“Nothing much if we were still in the eighteenth century.”
“So, what would you call him?”
“A scumbag.”
“I guess that would do.”
Chapter 8
I wasn’t due to go into Grover Import/Export until the afternoon, but before I went into my office, I wanted to check on Lester to see if everything was going okay with his training. I still felt responsible for him having been suspended.
I magicked myself over to Aunt Lucy’s house, and could hear voices coming from the kitchen. It was Aunt Lucy and Grandma; they both sounded rather subdued.
“Morning, Jill.” Aunt Lucy managed a smile, but I could sense something was troubling her.
“What are you doing here, young lady?” Grandma said.
“I just thought I’d pop over to check on Lester.”
“Fester?” Grandma said. “What’s to check on?”
“It’s Lester.” Aunt Lucy corrected her. “He’s doing fine, thank you, Jill. He told me yesterday that he’d caught up on all the training he’d missed.”
“That’s great. Look, I can see I’ve interrupted you. I’ll get back to Washbridge.”
“No, wait,” Aunt Lucy said. “Come and take a seat. You should hear about this.”
I did as she asked, and waited for one of them to tell me what was going on.
“I don’t imagine that you’ve heard of Imelda Barrowtop?” Grandma said.
“I can’t say I have.”
“Imelda is the oldest witch in Candlefield. No one knows quite how old she is, but it’s many centuries. Anyway, it seems that Imelda is dying.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that. Do you know her well, Grandma?”
“I’ve met her a few times, and she’s a very impressive lady.”
I tried to recall the last time I’d heard Grandma be complimentary about someone. I drew a blank. “Have you been to see her?”
“I wanted to,” Grandma said. “I got in touch with her daughter to see if I could pay a visit, but it seems that she isn’t accepting visitors.”
“There’s nothing more that can be done for her, apparently,” Aunt Lucy said. “She’s unlikely to be with us for more than a few days. It’s a very sad time for all of Candlefield, and particularly for the witch community.”
***
Even after I’d magicked myself back to Washbridge, I was still thinking about Imelda Barrowtop. The thought of her imminent demise had obviously had a profound effect on both Grandma and Aunt Lucy. It hadn’t really occurred to me until then, but the fact that witches lived to such an old age must mean that when they did die, it would inevitably hit their relatives and family very hard indeed. Even though I’d been aware of how the ageing process was different for sups compared to humans, I’d never really stopped to consider how that might affect me. Sooner or later, people in the human world were bound to notice that I wasn’t ageing at the same rate as they were. It hadn’t been an issue for me up until now because humans and sups aged at more or less the same rate until they reached adulthood. I would now start to age much slower than my human counterparts. Sooner or later Jack or Kathy would surely pick up on that. What would I do then?
***
“Someone came and took away all of those tables, Jill,” Jules said when I walked into the office. “What had you been using them for, anyway?”
“I—err—had a—err—big case to work on with lots of paperwork. I needed to be able to spread out all of the papers.”
She gave me a puzzled look, and who could blame her. Even I thought it sounded like I’d just taken a dip in the crazy lagoon. But at least it signalled that Winky’s foray into the world of knitwear production was at an end.
Sure enough, when I went through to my office, the tables, knitting machines and all the feline worker-bees had gone. My office was back to normal. Or at least what passed for normal in my world.
Winky was sitting on the sofa, preening himself.
“I take it you’ve fulfilled the orders for the jumpers?” I said.
“Yes. All orders delivered on time and to specification.”
“Good. So, now, there’s just the small matter of my cut.”
I went over and sat at my desk. By my calculations, my cut would be several thousand pounds. That should improve the profit and loss account. And I’d be able to pay myself a little extra to buy a small treat.
For Jack? Are you mad? For me, of course.
Winky got off the sofa, sashayed across the floor, and jumped onto my desk. Normally, I would have admonished him, but I decided to turn a blind eye seeing as he was about to present me with several thousand pounds.
“Is cash alright?” he asked.
“I guess so.” I’d expected him to pay by cheque, but I quite liked the idea of seeing so much cash.
“Ten, twenty, thirty, thirty-five pounds. And sixty-five pence.” He pushed several notes and a few coins over to me.
“What’s this?”
“It’s your cut. Twenty per cent, as we agreed.”
“Wait a minute. You said the order was worth tens of thousands of pounds. How come my twenty per cent cut is only thirty-five pounds and sixty-five pence?”
“We agreed on twenty per cent of the nett, not the gross. You do understand the difference, don’t y
ou?”
“Of course I do.” I had no idea what the difference was, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. “But it still doesn’t seem like very much money.”
“I thought you might argue the toss.” He produced a couple of sheets of A4 paper. “So, I printed this P&L report which details all the sales and expenses. If you check the bottom line, you’ll find the nett profit. Your twenty per cent is based on that. Okay?”
I stared at the report for the longest time, but I might as well have been trying to read Chinese for all the sense it made to me. “I’ll need to study this and get back to you.”
“Of course. In the meantime, how about some salmon. Red, not pink.”
“Obviously.”
***
I arrived at Grover Import/Export a few minutes before my official start time. Everyone was out on their lunch break except for Sarah Long. She was at her desk, eating sandwiches from a Tupperware box.
“Hi, Jill. I didn’t realise you were in today.”
“Only this afternoon. I’ve still got plenty of filing to go at.”
“I don’t envy you. That paperwork’s been building up for ages. Do you have any idea how long you’re going to be with us?”
“Not really. No more than a few days, I would think.”
“It must be very difficult for you—not knowing how long you’ll be working at any one place. Have you been temping long?”
“No. I’m actually quite new to it. The woman at the agency told me that the reason they needed someone here is because two women had gone missing. Is that right?”
Sarah glanced around the office to make sure there was no one else within earshot.
“Yeah. It’s a bit scary, actually. Carol Pine went missing about six months ago. She left the office but never made it home.”
“That’s horrible. Did they ever find her?”
“No. It’s like she disappeared into thin air. And then, just recently, Kimberly went missing in exactly the same circumstances. She left work and never made it home either.”
“Did you know the girls very well?”
“Carol and I were very close friends. We’d worked together for several years. In fact, she was the maid of honour at my wedding.”
“Her disappearance must have really hit you hard?”
“It did. I still find myself wondering where she might be, and if she’s—” Sarah hesitated. “You know, if she’s even alive.”
“Is it possible she chose to disappear?”
“No. Definitely not. Carol was very happy. There was no reason for her to just take off.”
“What about Kimberly?”
“Kimberly and I never really hit it off. She could be a bit moody, which made her very difficult to work with.”
“Don’t you think it’s rather strange that the same thing should happen to two women within such a short space of time?”
“Very. Every time I leave the office in the evening, I wonder if I’ll make it home. It’s making me a nervous wreck.”
“Did the police ask you any questions?”
“Yeah. They talked to everyone when Carol disappeared, and then again when Kimberly did.”
Just then, Elsie walked into the office, and Sarah went back to her sandwiches.
“Hello, Jill.” Elsie hung up her coat, and then came over to my desk. “You’re early.”
“I couldn’t wait to get back to the filing.”
Elsie looked confused momentarily, but then smiled. “Oh, yes. Very funny. There is rather a lot of it, I’m afraid.”
“No problem. It’s keeping me in a job.”
“Are you married, Jill?”
“No, but I do live with someone, though. His name is Jack. What about you?”
“Me? No. There was someone many years ago, but things didn’t work out for us.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“That’s okay. It looks like we might get a second chance.”
“Really?”
“I hope so. Fingers crossed.”
***
I’d never realised just how time-consuming filing could be. The mountain of paperwork didn’t seem to get any smaller. I hadn’t got off to a very good start because no one had thought to mention that I shouldn’t file under ‘L’ for ‘Limited’. It had seemed logical to me to file a letter headed ‘Widgets Limited’ under ‘L’, but apparently not. By the time I’d finished for the day, I’d made very little progress either with the filing or my investigation.
***
I hadn’t been in the house for more than ten minutes when there was a knock at the door. I was still a little wary about Mr Kilbride, the new neighbour across the road. I’d originally suspected him of being the witchfinder, but I now knew that wasn’t the case. Even so, he had readily admitted that he worked in the occult business, and both Blake and Mrs Rollo had heard strange noises coming from his house, so I was still on my guard.
As it turned out, it wasn’t Mr Kilbride. It was Mr Hosey.
“Hello, Jill.” He had the kind of face which was just begging to be slapped.
“Hello, Mr Hosey. I was just about to make a start on dinner. Jack will be home shortly.”
“That’s okay. This will only take a minute. Can I come in?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he more or less pushed past me, and made his way into the lounge. By the time I got in there, he was seated on the sofa. The temptation to use magic on him was overwhelming. In my mind’s eye, I visualised all the horrible things I could do to him. Turn him into a rat or a cockroach or a—
“Thank you for sparing me a few minutes, Jill. This is not really a social call. It’s more of a business opportunity.”
“Oh?”
“You’ll no doubt already be aware that for any business to succeed, effective marketing is crucial.”
“I suppose so.”
“Suppose? Do you know what happens to the business that doesn’t advertise?” He didn’t wait for an answer. This was obviously a well-rehearsed routine. “They go out of business because no one knows they exist. That’s why I’m pleased to be able to offer you the opportunity of a lifetime.”
I was getting bad vibes. Very bad vibes.
He continued. “After much soul-searching and deliberation, I’ve decided to offer a limited number of sponsorship opportunities on Bessie.”
“Your toy train?”
“Toy? Bessie is not a toy!”
“Sorry. Of course not. What kind of sponsorship opportunities?”
“I’ve decided to allow a select number of local businesses to have their name and logo on the side of the engine and carriages.”
“I see, but if I’m not mistaken, don’t you only drive the train around the streets in this neighbourhood?”
“Generally, yes. Although I do occasionally attend summer fayres.”
“How many summer fayres did you attend last year?”
He thought about it for a while. “One.”
“Then I don’t really see how advertising on the side of your train would benefit me. The number of people who will see it is very low.”
“Yes, but it’s quality you should be concerning yourself with, not quantity.”
“Quality?”
“Precisely. Those who appreciate trains are usually the better class of person—much like myself. No riff raff.”
“I see. So, you’re offering riff raff free advertising?”
“Guaranteed.”
“Well, thank you for the opportunity, Mr Hosey.” I started towards the door. “But as I said, I do have to make a start on dinner. Jack will be home soon.”
He followed me into the hall. “You will give it serious consideration?”
“Of course.”
“Bye.” I closed the door.
Why was I such a nutter magnet?
Chapter 9
“This house is missing something,” Jack said, out of the blue, the next morning over breakfast.
“Missing what?” I h
ated cryptic conversations, particularly when I was still half asleep.
“We need a pet.”
“What? Like a goldfish?”
“Not a goldfish. A real pet that can be part of the family.”
“A stick insect then?”
“Are you being deliberately obtuse, Jill? You know what I mean: a cat or a dog.”
“I’ve already told you that I’m not having Winky living here with us.”
“How about a dog, then? I’ve had dogs ever since I was a young kid.”
“But they’re messy. There’ll be dog hairs everywhere.”
“We’ve got Mrs Mopp for that. We pay her for doing very little at the moment. The house is perfectly tidy even before she starts. It’ll give her something to do to earn her money.”
“What about the upkeep costs?”
“Dogs needn’t cost much. We could buy dog food in bulk.”
“Then there’s the vet bills.”
“So, what are you saying? Don’t you want a dog?”
“Not really.”
“Maybe it’s time to start thinking about kids, instead?”
“Actually, now I think about it, having a dog around the house might be good.”
Jack grinned. “I thought maybe a Pug?”
“Aren’t they the small ugly ones?”
“They’re not ugly. They have character.”
“How about a labradoodle?” I suggested.
“A labradoodle? I suppose so.”
“How about a black and white one?”
“That’s very specific.”
“I happen to know where there’s a black and white labradoodle in need of a new home.”
“Really? When could you bring it home?”
“‘It’ is a ‘he,’ and his name is Barry.”
“Barry? What kind of name is that for a dog?”
“It’s a great name, and it might take me a day or two to organise.”
Jack was walking on air from then until he left for work. I, on the other hand, was already starting to have second thoughts. Did I really want Barry living with us? And what if Jack caught me talking to the dog?
There was something I needed to do before I set off for work.