Witch is How To Lose Big

by Adele Abbott

  I was curious to find out more about the white van, so I made my way back to Madge’s house. When I got there, I was rather surprised to find her in a bit of a flap.

  “Is everything all right, Madge?”

  “I’m supposed to be going to the bridge club, but my lift has let me down. I’ll never get there on time if I take the bus.”

  “I don’t have a car, but I could magic you there if you’d be okay with that?”

  “Yes please, Jill. I’d really like that. I just need to go and get my bag from the bedroom. I’ll only be a minute.”

  While she was upstairs, I noticed a photograph on the sideboard. I was still looking at it when she came back downstairs.

  “That’s my daughter, Cynthia. She’s very pretty, isn’t she?”

  “She certainly is. Is she still in the human world?”

  “Yes. I’ve tried to contact her several times, but I’m afraid she doesn’t believe in ghosts. I really do miss her. I’d give anything to be able to speak to her again.” A lump came to her throat, and I thought for a minute that she was about to cry, but she took a deep breath and managed to compose herself. “We’d better get going or we won’t make it.”

  “Take my hand. Are you ready?” She nodded, and I magicked us both over to the bridge club.

  “Do come inside, Jill. I’d like to introduce you to some of my friends.”

  “I really should get going.”

  “Please, just for a minute. They’d love to meet you.”

  “Okay then, but only for a minute.”

  Once we were inside, Madge took me over to meet an elderly lady in crumpled tights.

  “This is Selina Mowbray, Jill. She’s the organiser of the bridge club.”

  “I’m very pleased to meet you, Selina.”

  “Likewise, I’m sure.”

  Selina didn’t look very pleased to meet me, and she made the first excuse she could to scuttle away.

  “Look, over there. That’s my friend, Lily.” Madge beckoned to the woman who was standing near the window. “Lily, this is Jill. She’s helping me to find my jewellery.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Jill.” Lily, at least, seemed sincere.

  “I’ll go and get some drinks,” Madge said. “Would you like one, Jill?”

  “Not for me, thanks. I’ll have to be going in a minute.”

  While Madge was fetching the drinks, Lily said in a hushed voice, “You realise it’s possible that Madge may have misplaced her jewellery, I assume? She’s always forgetting things.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Definitely. I lost some of my jewellery recently too, but I’m sure it’ll turn up. Madge could easily have put it down somewhere and forgotten all about it. Don’t tell her I said so, though, will you?”

  “Of course not.”

  When Madge returned with the drinks, I asked if she’d be okay for getting back home.

  “Yes, thank you, dear, I’ll be able to get a lift. Thank you so much for bringing me.”

  “My pleasure. Before I go, can I ask you about the white van that was parked in front of your house last week while Arthur Green was there? Do you remember who it belonged to?”

  “Let me think.” She scratched her chin. “Oh yes, I remember. It was the fish man.”

  “Do you have fish delivered to your door?”

  “No. To tell you the truth, I’m not really a big fan of fish. The young man was going door-to-door to see if anyone was interested in having fish delivered. I told him that I wasn’t, but he left me one of his cards anyway.”

  “I don’t suppose you happen to have it with you, do you?”

  “I think I put it in my handbag. Let me see. Yes, here it is.”

  I stared at it in disbelief. It read:

  Terry Salmon, fish delivered to your door

  I was in a state of shock when I left the bridge club. Could it really be the same Terry Salmon who delivered our fish? I tried to remember when we’d last had a fish delivery, and it was several weeks ago. In fact, Jack had said something the other day about being low on haddock. My curiosity was piqued, so I looked up the address on the card. It wasn’t very far away, so I decided to find out what was going on.

  When I arrived at the address, the white van was parked on the road, so I walked up the path, and knocked on the door. A few moments later, who should appear at the door but Terry Salmon.

  I’m not sure which one of us was more shocked.

  “Terry, it is you.”

  “What are you doing here, Jill? I didn’t realise you’d died.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “It’s okay. I was in denial too when it happened to me, but I’ve sort of accepted it now. It would be much better if you could come to terms with it too.”

  “Honestly, Terry, I’m not dead.”

  “Then how come you’re here in Ghost Town?”

  “It’s quite complicated. The thing is, I’m a witch.”

  He laughed. “There’s no such thing.”

  “Actually, there is. I can use magic to travel back and forth between the human world, the paranormal world, and here in Ghost Town.”

  “Really? That’s amazing. There are a few people I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to. Would you be able to use magic to take me back to the human world so I could do that?”

  “I’m sorry, Terry, but that’s impossible. I assume you’re aware that you can make yourself visible to people in the human world?”

  “So I’ve been told, but I wouldn’t know where to start.”

  “I have a few friends here. I’m sure one of them would be able to help. I’ll have a word with the colonel and ask him to make contact with you.”

  “That would be great, Jill. That’s really kind of you.”

  “What happened to you, anyway? How did you die?”

  “It was my own stupidity.” He shook his head at the memory. “I had a walk-in freezer where I kept all of my stock. The emergency lock-release on the inside had been playing up for a few weeks, but instead of doing the sensible thing and getting it repaired, I just ignored it. I’d gone into the freezer to grab some haddock, and the door closed behind me. The emergency lock wouldn’t budge, and of course no one knew I was in there.”

  “Oh dear. So you froze to death?”

  “Yes, and I most definitely wouldn’t recommend it.”

  “You certainly haven’t wasted any time setting up business here in Ghost Town.”

  “I thought it might help to take my mind off things. What will you do for fish now, Jill? Now that I’ve gone?”

  “I don’t know. I’m going to have to break the bad news to Jack.”

  ***

  When I got back to the house, I was quite surprised to find that Jack was already there.

  “How come you’re home so early?” I said.

  “I was working on a case just outside Washbridge, so it wasn’t worth going back to the station. I’m making spaghetti bolognese. Is that okay?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Just then, there was a knock at the door.

  “Good afternoon, madam.” The man standing there was wearing white dungarees and a white flat cap. “My name is Harry Hart.”

  “Let me stop you right there, Mr Hart.” I put up my hand. “I’ll save us both some time. We never buy at the door.”

  By now, Jack was standing by my side.

  “I’m not selling anything,” he insisted. “I’m a window cleaner. My business is called Hart of Glass. Get it? Hart of glass?” He laughed. So did Jack, but then Jack would laugh at anything. “I wondered if you might be interested in having your windows cleaned?”

  “How much does it cost, Mr Hart?” I asked.

  “Ten pounds, and I come around every three weeks.”

  “You’re in luck, then,” I said. “I hate cleaning the windows. You can sign us up.”

  “Great. I’ll be over here to do my first clean next week.”

  “Excellent. We’l
l see you then.”

  As soon as he’d left, Jack gave me one of those looks of his.

  “What’s wrong?” I said.

  “What do you mean you hate cleaning the windows? You never clean the windows. I always do them.”

  “In that case, you should be thanking me.”

  Later, at the kitchen table, Jack was pushing the food around on his plate, without actually eating much of it.

  “What’s wrong? Have you lost your appetite?”

  “To tell you the truth, I had my heart set on a bit of haddock tonight, but when I checked the freezer, we were all out.”

  “That reminds me. I’m afraid you’re going to have to find a new fish man.”

  “Don’t tell me Terry Salmon has packed it in.”

  “He’s retired, I’m afraid. From life.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was in Ghost Town earlier today, working on a case, and guess who I ran into?”

  “Not Terry, surely.”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

  “That’s awful. He was so young. What happened?”

  “Apparently, he locked himself in a freezer.”

  “What a horrible way to go.”

  “It makes me shudder just to think about it.”

  “That’s not funny, Jill.”

  “So why are you laughing?”

  Chapter 9

  Have you ever had one of those mornings when your body is awake, but your mind is still fast asleep? Me too, and this was definitely one of them. It took all my strength just to shovel the cornflakes into my mouth.

  Meanwhile, and annoyingly, Jack was wide awake and full of beans.

  “Jill, you never told me how you went on with the accountant.”

  “I thought I had.”

  “No, you definitely didn’t. So how did it go?”

  “Okay.”

  “Is that okay good or okay bad?”

  “It’s just okay.”

  “What did Luther actually say?”

  “That everything was okay.” It was definitely time to change the subject. And quickly. “By the way, Jack, did I mention that I’ve landed a case similar to the one you’re working on at the moment?”

  “Vandalism in the toilet blocks at the school?”

  “What? No, not vandalism in the toilet block. Didn’t you say something about a man who had disappeared from a hotel in West Chipping?”

  “Oh yeah, that’s right. We haven’t made much progress on that up to now. In fact, we’ve hit a bit of a brick wall. So, what is it that you’re working on?”

  “It’s a cold case. I’m trying to find out what happened to a guy who disappeared from a hotel in Washbridge two years ago. Nobody’s seen or heard from him since. His sister came to see me on Monday.”

  Just then, there was a knock at the door.

  “Who’s that at this time in the morning?” I dragged myself off the chair. “It had better not be Mr Hosey or I’ll swing for him.”

  Unsurprisingly, given my condition, Jack beat me to the door. I recognised the man standing outside, but I couldn’t think where I knew him from.

  “You probably don’t remember me,” he said. “I’m Billy Bass. I called to see you some time ago to ask if you were interested in having fish delivered to your door. Back then, you said you had it covered. This is just a follow-up, to see if things have changed at all.”

  “Actually,” Jack said, “we’ve just lost our regular fish supplier. He died recently.”

  “You must mean poor Terry Salmon. So tragic, and such a young man. It’s hard to know what to say at times like this, isn’t it? So, can I sign you up?”

  Before Jack could respond, I grabbed his arm. “Excuse us for a minute, would you, Mr Bass?” When we were in the kitchen, I said to Jack in a whisper, “This guy is a vulture. Terry’s barely cold in his grave.”

  “He died in a freezer. I suspect he’s stone cold.” Jack grinned.

  “And you had the nerve to have a go at me for making jokes in bad taste.”

  “You’re right. Sorry.”

  “We should tell this guy to sling his hook.”

  “If we do that, I’ll have no fish. Are you volunteering to go to the fishmongers every week?”

  “I most certainly am not. That place smells awful.”

  “In that case, I’m going to sign up with Mr Bass.” Jack went back to the door. “Yes, we’d like to sign up.”

  I watched in disgust as Jack gave Billy (AKA Mr Jump In Your Grave) Bass his order.

  “Terry’s tragic accident must have done wonders for your business,” I sniped.

  “It really has. In fact, I’m looking for an assistant to help with the additional work. You wouldn’t be interested, would you?”

  “Me?” I shuddered at the thought. “No, thank you.”

  “It’s just that you have the look of someone who knows their way around fish. If you hear of anyone who’s looking for a job, send them my way, would you?”

  ***

  When I arrived at the office, Mrs V was holding a sheet of A4 paper, and had a confused look on her face.

  “Oh dear, Jill.” She sighed. “I really don’t know what to say.”

  “About what? What’s that you’re looking at?”

  She put the sheet of paper onto her desk. It was a picture of the photo frame I’d decorated. On the picture, someone had written, ‘Jill Maxwell made this monstrosity.’

  “Where did you get that from, Mrs V?”

  “It was on my desk when I arrived this morning. I assumed you’d left it there. I’m sorry to have to say this, Jill. I thought what you’d done to the desk was bad, but this is much worse. I’m not even sure what it’s supposed to be.” She squinted again at the picture. “Is it some kind of photo frame?”

  “I’ve never seen it before in my life.” I took the sheet of paper from her and screwed it into a ball. “It must be someone’s idea of a practical joke. Excuse me, would you?”

  Livid, I charged into my office where Winky was busy broadcasting.

  “Winky FM brings you this week’s record of the week, Cat Boy and The Nips.”

  I hurried behind the screen and yanked off his headphones.

  “Hey, do you mind?” He looked suitably outraged. “You could have had my ears off.”

  “Never mind your ears.” I straightened out the crumpled piece of paper. “Would you care to explain this?”

  “I think it’s you who owes the world an explanation. What is that thing meant to be?”

  “How did you get hold of this picture?”

  “I have my methods.”

  “Why did you put it on Mrs V’s desk?”

  “It’s such a perfect piece of art that I wanted to share it with the world. That’s why I put it on Instagram too.”

  “You’ve done what?”

  “And the last time I looked, it already had thirty-five comments. You should read them. They’re hilarious.”

  An hour later, I was still seething over what Winky had done. Sooner or later, though, I’d get my own back. You see if I don’t. Meanwhile, he was back behind the screen, doing his DJ thing.

  So far, I’d made little or no progress on the Edward Broom case, so I decided to check The Bugle’s archives around the date of his disappearance. The headline story for the day he’d been scheduled to check out was about an altercation at the Lakeside Tavern. The following day’s lead story was about a cat that had got trapped on the fire station roof. Next up was a story about a woman who had found a thirty-year old packet of biscuits under her grandmother’s bed. It had clearly been a slow news week. Nowhere, though, could I find any mention of Broom’s disappearance.

  After that abysmal failure, I decided to take a different approach. This time, I accessed a database of all the major newspapers in a fifty-mile radius, using the search terms: hotel and disappearance.

  It was only when the results appeared on screen that I realised I’d failed to specify an end date, so there were en
tries dated up to the current day—the most recent of which was the case that Jack was working on.

  There was only one item related to Edward Broom. The short article, which was dated a couple of weeks after he’d vanished, said little more than that a man had disappeared from Parkside Hotel. One thing that did surprise me, though, was the number of people who had gone missing from hotels during the last two years.

  I was getting nowhere fast, so I decided to make another attempt to talk to Eddie Broom’s wife, Sandra. I’d already called her several times, and she’d made it crystal clear that she didn’t want to speak to me. This time, though, I planned to turn up on her doorstep, on the basis that it was far more difficult to turn someone away when they were right there in front of you.

  “I’m nipping out for a while, Mrs V.”

  “Okay, dear. By the way, did you remember to ask Jack about dinner?”

  Oh, bum! There was no way I could tell her that I’d forgotten a third time.

  “Of course, I did. He suggested next Wednesday, if that works for you.”

  “That will be fine. Is seven o’clock okay?”

  “Perfect.”

  “I’m really looking forward to having you both over.”

  “Me too.”

  I needed something to fortify me ahead of my confrontation with Sandra Broom, and I knew just the thing. Next stop, Coffee Games.

  “Can I get a caramel latte and a blueberry muffin, please?”

  Piers stared at me but didn’t move.

  “Piers, did you hear me? I’d like a caramel latte and a blueberry muffin, please.”

  Still he didn’t react.

  I was getting really annoyed now.

  “Piers, whatever’s the matter?”

  He gestured to a sign on the wall at the side of the counter that read:

  Today’s game: Simon Says

  Now everything made sense, so I tried again, “Simon says, will you get me a caramel latte and a blueberry muffin please, Piers.”

  “Certainly Jill, coming straight up.”

  Once I had my drink and cake, I took a seat at a table near the window. No sooner had I sat down, than Betty Longbottom came to join me. She was dressed to the nines and had obviously spent the last half hour in makeup.