Whoops! Our New Flatmate Is A Human (A Susan Hall Mystery Book 1)

by Adele Abbott

  “People disappear all the time.”

  “Gary and I had never been happier than just before he disappeared. He didn’t walk out, Susan. Somehow they must have found out that he’d told me he was a wizard, so they took him back. I know they did.”

  Susan and Margie talked for quite some time. Susan wanted to make sure that when she left, Margie felt that she’d been given a full and fair hearing.

  “Okay, Margie, I’ve got everything I need, but you really must leave it with me now. I’m very busy, and I can’t have you calling into the office all the time to ask what’s happening.”

  “I won’t. I trust you, Susan. I know you’re going to look into this.”

  “I will, but it’s probably going to take some time. So you’ll have to be patient.”

  “I understand. All I’ve ever wanted was for someone to take me seriously.” She hugged Susan again. “Thank you so much.”

  Susan felt bad for deceiving Margie, but what choice did she have? She had to get her off her back.

  As she drove down the street, it occurred to Susan that she might as well talk to Margie’s two daughters. It would be interesting to get their take on what had happened, and maybe she’d be able to persuade them to talk to their mother, and try to get her to see sense.

  She called first at number thirty-two where, according to Margie, Willow lived. A woman answered the door. By her side was a boy no older than seven.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Hi. My name’s Susan Hall. I’ve just been talking to your mother, and I wondered if I might have a couple of minutes of your time.”

  “What’s it about?”

  “It might be better if we spoke inside. It won’t take long.”

  “Okay.” Willow led the way inside. “Jason, go and play in your room while Mummy talks to this lady.”

  “Okay, Mummy.” Jason rushed upstairs.

  “What’s it about? Is Mum all right?”

  “Yes. At least, I think so. I work at The Bugle.”

  “Oh, no.” Willow’s face dropped. “Don’t tell me she’s been talking to you about wizards.”

  “She has, actually. Yeah.”

  “I was hoping that she’d forgotten about that. She hasn’t mentioned it to me for a while, but that’s probably because every time she does, I get angry with her.”

  “I assume you know that your mother thinks your father was taken away by—”

  “Supernatural creatures? Yes, I know the whole sorry story. According to her, my father is a wizard, and he was taken away by the Rogue Retrievers to Candlefield where all the supernaturals live. I’ve heard it a thousand times.”

  “I take it that you don’t believe it.”

  “Of course I don’t. Surely you don’t either. Look, I love Mum to bits, but this is getting really annoying. I get that she’s upset, and I hate my father for what he’s put her through, but the idea that he’s gone off to some supernatural land is crazy. I wish Mum would just drop it. I’m worried about the effect it will have on Jason if she starts talking to him about it. He’ll have nightmares.”

  It was quite obvious that Willow thought her mother had lost the plot entirely. After leaving Willow’s house, Susan made her way to number forty-one where Margie’s older daughter lived. Rose answered the door at the first knock.

  “I just saw you come out of my sister’s house.”

  “Yeah. I’ve been to your mother’s as well.”

  Susan explained to Rose why she was there, and what her mother and Willow had said.

  “I think Willow should try to be a bit more understanding.”

  “Oh?” Susan had expected Rose to hold similar views to Willow.

  “Mum and Dad were really happy together. He would never have walked out on her. I’m sure something’s happened to him.”

  “But you surely don’t believe this story about Candlefield?”

  “No, of course not. I don’t believe in witches and wizards, or things that go bump in the night, but I do think that Dad was taken away against his will by someone.”

  “And you have no idea by whom or why?”

  “None. If you could find out, that would be great.”

  Chapter 15

  Charlie and Dorothy were in the lounge. Neil was in the kitchen. Susan wasn’t yet home.

  “Neil!” Charlie said. “Will you pass me the biscuit tin?”

  “What’s up with you, lazybones? Why don’t you get off your backside and fetch it?”

  “Please, Neil. I’m comfortable. You’re coming over here anyway, aren’t you?”

  “I’m going to make myself a drink first.” Neil cast a spell, and the biscuit tin began to float across the room towards Charlie.

  Just then, the door opened and Susan walked in. She stared in disbelief at the biscuit tin, which was floating across the room. The other three looked at her in horror. Neil lost focus on the spell, and the tin crashed to the floor, spilling biscuits everywhere.

  “What’s going on?” Susan turned to Neil.

  “Nothing. Everything’s normal.” He quickly cast the ‘forget’ spell while Charlie began to pick up the biscuits.

  Susan shook her head, seemingly dazed. The ‘forget’ spell had worked.

  “Err—hi, everybody. Sorry, I lost it there for a moment. Hey, where did that bird come from?”

  “That’s Bob.” Neil got in before Dorothy had the chance to answer.

  “Bob?” Susan walked over to the cage.

  “Stupid name, eh?” Neil laughed.

  “There’s nothing stupid about his name,” Dorothy said. “My mother gave him to me.”

  “I like canaries.” Susan tapped the bars of the cage. “Hello, Bob.”

  “See!” Dorothy turned to Neil. “Susan likes our new flatmate.”

  Still a little disoriented from the ‘forget’ spell, Susan joined the others in the lounge. She deliberately took a seat as far away from Dorothy as she could. She didn’t entirely trust her after the finger pricking incident. Sooner or later, they would have to have a talk to clear the air, but she didn’t want to do it while the guys were there.

  “How was work today, everyone?” Susan said.

  “I wasn’t in today,” Charlie said. “It was my day off, so I went to visit my mum. I usually go and see her about once a week.”

  “Does she live in Washbridge?”

  Charlie hesitated. He hadn’t thought this through—he couldn’t tell Susan that his mother lived in Candlefield. “No, not in Washbridge, but not far away. The visit was a bit of a disaster.”

  “Don’t you and your mum get on?”

  “We get on like a house on fire. We always have. I lost my dad when I was young, and since then Mum and me have been very close.”

  “What went wrong today?”

  “It’s my brother, Ralph. He’s a teenager, and he’s causing quite a few problems.”

  “All teenagers are like that.”

  “I know, but Mum’s worried he’s going to push it too far, and end up in trouble with the—” He stopped himself just in time. He’d almost said Rogue Retrievers. “With the police.”

  “Why? What’s he been up to?”

  “I don’t really want to get into all that. Mum asked if I’d have a word with him, but I think I actually did more harm than good. He doesn’t want to listen to any adult—not Mum, and definitely not me. We ended up having a stand-up shouting match. Mum had to pull us apart. I didn’t hang around after that because I didn’t want to make things even worse.”

  “What about you?” Susan turned to Neil. “How’s the fancy dress business?”

  “It was my day off, too. I went to see my parents as well.”

  “Hopefully you had a better time than Charlie.”

  “Not really. At least Charlie gets on with his mum. That’s more than I can say about me and my parents. I’ve cut down the visits to once a month, but even that’s too often.”

  “Why? What’s the problem?”

  “Nothing
I do is ever good enough for them. I’m one big disappointment in their eyes. They hate that I work here in the—here in Washbridge.” He’d almost said ‘the human world.’ “And they don’t like me working in the fancy dress shop.”

  “What’s wrong with the shop?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with it. I’m perfectly happy there. It’s just that they had bigger plans for me.”

  “What kind of plans?”

  “They—err—” Neil had dug himself into a hole. He could hardly tell Susan that they were disappointed because he was only a level three wizard. “They wanted me to study law, but it wasn’t for me.”

  “What about you, Dorothy?” Susan asked.

  “I didn’t go to work today, either. I should have, but I phoned in sick. I went to see my mum too.”

  “So, all three of you have family around here?”

  “Yeah,” Dorothy said. “Not far away.”

  “Do you get on okay with your mum, Dorothy?”

  “Me and Mum get on fine. She misses me though, and the dog really misses me.”

  “You’ve got a dog?”

  “Yeah, her name’s Babs. I can’t keep her here, so Mum looks after her. That’s why she got me the canary. She also said that she’d like to come over, and paint a portrait of us all, but I told her ‘no’.”

  “Why?” Susan said. “That sounds like a great idea.”

  “To be honest, she’s not that good.”

  “I’m sure you’re being unfair on your mother,” Charlie said. “I bet she’s brilliant. No one thinks their parents are any good at anything. It would be cool to have a portrait of us all. We could have it up there on the wall.”

  “Yeah, I’d be up for that,” Neil said.

  “Never going to happen.” Dorothy shook her head.

  “What about you?” Neil said to Susan. “How was your day?”

  “Mixed really. There’s an outside possibility I might have a story based on a suspicious death, but it’s early days, and it may not come to anything. And, I spent most of the afternoon with a crazy woman. I told you about her the other day. She reckons her husband is a wizard who’s been taken back to the supernatural world.”

  “I remember you mentioning her,” Neil said. “It all sounds a bit weird.”

  “Weird isn’t the word. This woman is one hundred percent certifiable. I figured the only way to put a stop to her pestering me at the office was to go to her house, and give her a full hearing. She showed me photos of her husband, and explained how he had proven to her that he was a wizard. Apparently, he made himself invisible, levitated, and even turned their neighbour’s dog into a statue.”

  “Does she really believe he’s a wizard?” Charlie asked.

  “She’s absolutely convinced of it. According to her, he was taken away by—I can’t remember their names—retrievers or something. They supposedly take back any supernaturals who are misbehaving.” Susan laughed. “I know, I know. It’s completely crazy, but this is what I’ve had to put up with.”

  “Did you promise to look into her story?”

  “Kind of. I even spoke to her daughters who live on the same street. One of them was rather annoyed that her mother kept going on about the wizard thing. She has a young son, and was worried it might have a bad effect on the child. The other daughter was a bit more understanding. She believes her dad has been taken by someone. She doesn’t think he would have just walked out. There may be a story there somewhere—not the supernatural rubbish, obviously. But I may take another look at it from the missing person angle.”

  “Hey, by the way,” Neil said. “Have you seen the rota anywhere?”

  “I left it on the breakfast bar.” Susan glanced over at the kitchen. “Isn’t it there?”

  “No.” Charlie shook his head. “We’ve looked everywhere, but we can’t find it.”

  “Oh, well.” Susan sighed. “I’d better get changed. I’ll catch up with you three later.”

  She didn’t believe the rota had mysteriously disappeared. All the time she’d spent drawing it up had probably been wasted. The three of them had most likely decided they didn’t like the idea of her reorganising everything. If that was the case, she would have much preferred that they’d told her to her face.

  After Susan had changed, she stayed in her room, and did some research on statistics about missing people. It was surprisingly easy to find. The number of adults who disappeared nationally in the course of a year was quite scary. Where did all of those people go? Then she found a better source, which broke it down, region by region, and even city by city. She searched for Washbridge and checked the number. Then she compared that with several other cities of a similar size. The more she checked, the more intrigued she became. The number of missing adults reported in Washbridge on average per year was three times that of any comparable city. That might simply be because the authorities in Washbridge were more diligent about recording such disappearances. Even so, it definitely merited further investigation.

  As soon as Susan had gone into her bedroom, Charlie and Dorothy had turned on Neil.

  “What were you thinking?” Charlie said, in a hushed voice. “You can’t use magic in the apartment now Susan’s here.”

  “You’re an idiot, Neil,” Dorothy said. “You could have carried the biscuit tin over here. You didn’t need to use magic.”

  “You two worry too much.” Neil waved away their concerns. “I sorted it out, didn’t I?”

  “Only by casting another spell,” Charlie said. “What do you call that spell that makes humans forget?”

  “Surprisingly, it’s called the ‘forget’ spell.” Neil grinned.

  “It’s not funny,” Dorothy chided him.

  “It worked, didn’t it? She won’t remember the biscuit tin incident.”

  “You can’t use magic when Susan’s around,” Charlie said. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “Okay. Stop panicking. Anyway, I don’t know why you’re both having a go at me.” He turned to Dorothy. “At least I didn’t stab her.”

  “I did not stab her! I just pricked her finger with a needle, that’s all.”

  “You can’t do that!” Charlie said. “She’s a flatmate.”

  “Okay, okay. No drinking the human’s blood. I get it.”

  Dorothy excused herself. Once inside her bedroom, she knelt down, reached under her bed, and pulled out a sheet of paper, which she folded into the shape of an aeroplane. Then, she threw it out of the open window.

  “Bye-bye rota.”

  Chapter 16

  Susan had managed to track down Chris Briggs’ brother, Simon; he worked in an insurance office in Washbridge city centre. After a little persuasion, he had agreed to speak to her there during his lunch break.

  “Hi, I’m Susan Hall.”

  “Simon. Shall we go through here?”

  Susan followed him to a small room at the back.

  “You said you wanted to talk about Chris? Why are The Bugle interested in him?”

  “We like to follow up all—err—unusual deaths. It’s just routine.” Susan knew it was a weak excuse, but it had been the best she could come up with.

  “He killed himself. That’s all there is to it.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, but still, if you could just answer a few questions, I’d be grateful. Did you have much contact with your brother?”

  “No.” He shuffled in his chair. “I realise that makes me sound callous, but Chris caused the family a lot of problems—he was always drunk or high. To tell you the truth, when Dad threw him out, I was pleased to see him go.”

  “What about jobs? Did he ever have one?”

  “He got a job straight out of school in the local pharmacy—just helping out in the back. He only lasted there for six months before he got sacked. We never did find out why, but I would bet my life he’d been stealing drugs.”

  “Did you see him often after your father threw him out?”

  “Oh yes, I saw him. I could hardly miss him.
He was always hanging around town—usually drunk or high, or both, but I hadn’t spoken to him in years.”

  “What about friends? Did he have any?”

  “Back in the day, yeah. There were four of them who always used to knock around together. I reckon it was them who first got Chris into the drugs.”

  “Do you remember their names?”

  “Let me think. There was Richy—Richard Price. And Alan Charlton. And then of course there was Robert Marks—you’ll have heard of him.”

  Susan shook her head.

  “You’re a reporter, and you don’t know who Robert Marks is?”

  “I’ve only just moved back to Washbridge. I’ve been in London for several years.”

  “He’s standing for election as MP for Washbridge. His ugly mug is never out of the papers.”

  The whole discussion lasted no more than fifteen minutes. It was obvious that Simon had long since cut all ties with his brother, and neither knew nor cared about what had happened to him.

  When she got back to the office, Susan checked the archives for articles on Robert Marks. There was no shortage of them to be found. A wealthy, self-made business man, who was currently on the Washbridge council, he had recently announced his intention to stand for Parliament. The latest article was a picture of Marks dressed in swimming trunks, as he prepared to swim the first ever length in the recently opened swimming baths.

  She tried to contact Marks, but was out of luck because although she’d managed to find his contact details, every phone number she had for him proved to be a dead end. Either there was no reply or she got one of his many assistants who would do no more than offer to take her name and number, and pass them on to Marks. Needless to say, none of her calls were returned.

  Undeterred, she decided to visit the pharmacy where Chris Briggs had once worked. As far as she could ascertain, that had been the only job he’d ever had. This too was a long shot because it was many years ago, and there was a good chance that the business would have changed hands since then.

  The exterior of Presto Pharmacy looked as though it hadn’t seen a coat of paint for over a decade. The sign was in bad repair with the letters ‘M’ and ‘Y’ hanging at an awkward angle. The shop was empty except for the bespectacled man behind the counter.