Witch is Why It Was Over

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Witch is Why It Was Over Page 10

by Adele Abbott


  “My friend, the colonel, recently took over Hauntings Unlimited. Maybe he can help.”

  “It’s certainly worth a try.”

  “Thanks, Constance.”

  ***

  I’d tried to phone the colonel, but he wasn’t picking up; he was probably busy with his new business venture. I’d just have to go back to my office, which had been one of the first places he’d visited after he ‘came back’ as a ghost, and try calling his name from there.

  ***

  Mrs V was still poring over the holiday brochures.

  “Any messages, Mrs V?”

  “No, but I did get a call from Jules.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Yes, she sounded very pleased with life. Apparently, she and her new young man had a bit of a falling out, but everything’s okay now. I feel sorry for the young people of today. All this total media can’t be good for them.”

  “Total media?” I had no idea what she was talking about, but then it clicked. “Hang on. You mean social. It’s social media.”

  “It’s not something we had to worry about in our day, is it?”

  In our day? Just how old did she think I was?

  “Have you decided where to go on honeymoon yet?”

  “Not yet. Armi suggested a cruise.”

  “That might be nice.”

  “I’m not too keen. There’s a bit too much water for my liking.”

  I was expecting Winky still to be sulking, but I couldn’t have been any more wrong. He was sitting on my desk, and next to him was a half-empty bottle of champagne.

  “Jill!” He hiccupped. “Would you care to join me in a toast?”

  “Are you drunk?”

  “A little merry, perhaps.” He poured out another glass, and offered it to me.

  “No, thanks. I know you’re disappointed about the inheritance, but drinking to drown your sorrows is not the solution.”

  “I’m not drowning my sorrows; I’m celebrating.”

  “What’s that?” I pointed to the watch he was wearing.

  “Do you like it?”

  “It’s very—never mind that. Where did you get it? You didn’t steal it, did you?”

  “Of course not. What do you think I am?”

  “You’d better not have maxed out my credit card.”

  “Your credit limit isn’t high enough to pay for this little beauty.”

  “So how did you get it?”

  “I bought it of course. With part of my inheritance.”

  “Now I know you’re drunk. The only thing you inherited was a collar.”

  “Would that be the diamond-encrusted collar that I sold a couple of hours ago? You wouldn’t believe how much I got for it.”

  “Diamonds?” It had never even occurred to me to look at the collar. That didn’t matter though because I stood to gain anyway. “Where’s my twenty percent cut?”

  “What twenty percent?”

  “That’s what we agreed before I took you to the solicitors.”

  “That’s true, but when we got back, and I was under the sofa, do you remember what you said?”

  I cast my mind back, and then it hit me like a ton of bricks. In a moment of madness, I’d said: And don’t worry. You can keep my twenty percent cut.

  “You’re not really going to hold me to that, are you?”

  “What do you think?” He grinned.

  “I hate you. Marmaduke.”

  “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but diamonds are a cat’s best friend.”

  “That’s not even a saying. And you can get off my desk.”

  Twenty minutes later, Winky had fallen asleep on the sofa, so I took the bottle of champagne away from him. He’d had more than enough to drink for one day.

  That watch of his must have cost at least five grand. Just how much had he made from the sale of those diamonds? I don’t imagine I’ll ever find out.

  How was it that he always came out smelling of roses while I always ended up smelling like I’d been rolling in cow dung?

  “Colonel? Priscilla? Are you there?”

  No reply.

  I tried again, “Colonel? Priscilla?”

  The temperature dropped, and the colonel appeared.

  “You called, Jill? Are we celebrating something?”

  “Sorry?”

  “The champers?”

  “This isn’t mine. It’s—err—never mind. I wanted to ask you a favour.”

  “Ask away, young lady.”

  “Does Hauntings Unlimited have a Spookberry licence?”

  “We do, for all the good it does.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “I take it you know that Spookberry should only be distributed through licensed businesses?”

  “Yes, that’s actually why I wanted to talk to you.”

  “The licensing system is not being policed effectively, and it’s having a detrimental effect on our business.”

  “How come?”

  “Ghosts who want to find work in the human world normally use companies such as ours because that should be the only way they can gain access to Spookberry. But now, there’s some charlatan going around, selling unlicensed Spookberry. That means that ghosts no longer need us. We’re struggling to keep workers on our books.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Colonel. Can’t the police help?”

  “It’s actually overseen by the licensing authorities who are next to useless. The police refuse to get involved.”

  “The guy who is selling the unlicensed Spookberry, is his name Homer Range, by any chance?”

  “That’s right. How did you know?”

  “I heard about him from a couple of ghosts who were haunting the maze at Washbridge Country Hall. Do you know Harry and Larry from Spooky Wooky?”

  “Of course. It’s the best tea room in GT.”

  “They need to get hold of some licensed Spookberry so they can attend the grand opening of a bakery here in Washbridge. If you could see your way clear to helping them out, then I’ll do my best to put Mr Homer Range out of business. How does that sound?”

  “Like a top-notch plan.”

  “Great. I’ll tell Harry and Larry you’ll be in touch, shall I?”

  “Please do. Priscilla and I are regular visitors to Spooky Wooky, so I’ll sort them out the next time I’m in there.”

  ***

  I didn’t want to be around when Winky woke up because there was only so much gloating I could take in one day.

  “I’m calling it a day, Mrs V. I’ve got a bit of a headache.”

  “It’ll be all that champagne. I saw the bottle when I brought your tea in.”

  “That isn’t—err—I didn’t—never mind. I’ll see you next week.”

  “Are you sure you should be driving?”

  I couldn’t be bothered to stick around to explain. Even if I had, what would I have said? That the champagne belonged to Winky AKA Marmaduke, who had just done me out of my share of a small fortune in diamonds?

  Mrs V didn’t need to hear that. No one did.

  Great! I was halfway to the car park when the heavens decided to open, and of course, I’d left my umbrella in the house. The sooner I got home to my custard creams, the better.

  By the time I reached the car, I looked like a drowned rat. Surely, nothing else could go wrong.

  Spoke too soon.

  The queue at the toll bridge was as long as I’d ever seen it. Ten minutes later, and I hadn’t moved even an inch. This was crazy. I needed to find out what was going on, and as I was already soaked to the skin, walking down to the pay booth wasn’t going to make much difference.

  As I got closer, I could see that the man in the car at the front of the queue was remonstrating with Mr Ivers.

  “What’s going on?” I demanded.

  “It’s this idiot!” the man in the car shouted.

  “What’s wrong, Mr Ivers?” I said.

  “Andy’s stuck.”

  “Sorry?”

 
He gestured to the mechanical arm. “It seems to be stuck. I think it must be the rain.”

  “Why don’t you just take the cash by hand?”

  “I thought I could get Andy working again.”

  I leaned into the booth, so that my face was inches from his. “Do I look as though I’ve had a good day, Mr Ivers?”

  “You do seem a little upset. And you’re rather wet.”

  “You’re right on both counts. And do you know what this is?” I tapped the mechanical arm. “This is the straw. The last one that broke the camel’s back. Now, let me tell you what’s going to happen. You’re going to start taking the cash by hand.”

  “But my elbows are—”

  “I don’t want to hear another word about your elbows or about Andy. The only sound I want to hear is the clinking of coins as you collect them. Got it?”

  “Okay, but if my elbows—”

  “What did I just say?”

  As I turned away from the booth, the man in the car winked at me. “Has anyone ever told you you’re incredibly hot when you get angry?”

  Chapter 11

  Sunday was probably my favourite day of the week. Normally, if neither of us was working, we’d have a bit of a lie-in, and perhaps go out for lunch. But today Jack had been called into work, so I would have to find a way to amuse myself. I might take this opportunity to check out the balaclava twins and their stash of buckets.

  The previous day had somehow turned into an all-day shopping expedition. Whoever it was that said women are the ones who love to shop, had obviously never met Jack. He’d wanted a new jumper and a pair of shoes, which by my reckoning should have taken an hour max.

  Some chance!

  It had taken him over two hours just to choose some shoes; he must have tried on thirty pairs. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I could have left him to it, but he said he wanted me to stay so I could give my opinion. Towards the end, long after I’d lost the will to live, if he’d tried on a pair of fisherman’s wading boots, I would have told him they looked good. When he eventually did choose a pair (the first pair he’d tried on two hours earlier, incidentally), I thought we were on the home straight, but I hadn’t accounted for the jumper challenge ahead. Polo, round neck or v-neck? Black, blue or green? Wool, acrylic or a mix?

  The next time he wanted to go clothes shopping, I was definitely going to remember an urgent case I had to work on.

  One good thing did come out of the day, though. He didn’t resurrect the subject of ‘our future’. And thankfully, the ‘M’ word wasn’t mentioned.

  It was ten minutes after midday, and I’d just finished breakfast.

  What? I totally deserved a lie-in after the week I’d just had.

  As I was saying, I’d just finished my fry-up when there was a knock at the door.

  “Blossom?”

  “Good afternoon, Jill. I hope you don’t mind my popping over, but I saw Jack go out earlier, and I thought you might like a bit of company. I know what it’s like being a woman on her own.”

  Huh?

  “Would you like to come in? I’ve just made a cup of tea.”

  “That would be lovely, dear. I’ll only stay a few minutes because it’s almost time for my lunch.” She followed me into the kitchen. “Oh, I see you’ve already had yours?”

  “This is actually my—err—yeah, I was a bit peckish so had an early lunch. Would you like a biscuit, Blossom?”

  “I probably shouldn’t. I don’t want to spoil my appetite. Will Jack be gone long?”

  “He’s had to go into work. He’ll probably be gone all day.”

  “What does he do?”

  “He’s a detective; he works out of West Chipping.”

  “Can I change my mind about that biscuit? Just one won’t hurt, will it?”

  “Sure.”

  I was halfway to the cupboard when there was a loud pounding at the door. When I spun around, Blossom was standing behind me.

  “That sounds like it might be urgent, dear.”

  “Just a minute!” I hurried to the door, followed by Blossom.

  “Clare? What’s wrong?”

  My next door neighbour looked as pale as a ghost.

  “It’s Tony.” Was all she could manage before she dissolved into tears.

  “Come in.” I helped her inside.

  “I think it would be best if I left you to it, dear,” Blossom said. “I hope everything is alright.”

  “Okay, Blossom, thanks.” I took Clare through to the lounge and settled her on the sofa. “What’s wrong with Tony?”

  “He’s gone missing.”

  “Take a deep breath, and tell me exactly what’s happened.”

  It took her a while to compose herself, but she eventually managed to tell the story.

  “Do you remember that we told you he and I were going to different cons yesterday?”

  “Yeah. AquaCon and—err—?”

  “VegCon. They were both one-day events. When I got back just before midnight, I expected Tony to be home because his con was much closer to Washbridge. When he wasn’t, I waited up on the sofa, but I must have fallen asleep, and didn’t wake until a couple of hours ago. He still isn’t back, Jill.”

  “Have you tried to call him?”

  “I’ve done nothing else since I woke up, but the message says the number I’m calling cannot be reached. I’m really worried, Jill.”

  “I’m sure he’s okay.”

  “He would have called me if he’d been delayed.”

  “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but the last time I saw the two of you, you were having words.”

  “That was nothing. We were just poking fun at each other’s choice of con.”

  “Okay. What can I do to help?”

  “I want to go to the Jamber Conference Centre where VegCon was held, but I don’t have the car—Tony took it. I realise it’s an imposition, but I was hoping that you might be able to drive me there. I know I could take a taxi, but I’m scared I might lose it and start blubbing.”

  “It’s okay. Jack’s at work and I don’t have anything else planned. Give me a couple of minutes to get changed, and I’ll meet you at the car.”

  “Thanks, Jill. I’ll go and get my bag.”

  So much for my day of relaxation.

  ***

  When we reached the toll bridge, I was relieved to see that Andy was working again. Mr Ivers saw me pop the cash onto the mechanical arm, but he didn’t speak. He was no doubt still upset at my recent outburst—with a bit of luck, he’d never speak to me again.

  Clare was very quiet on the drive to the Jamber Conference Centre, but at least she’d stopped crying.

  “Have you been here before?” I asked.

  “Just once. We came here for SausageCon last year.”

  “Right.” Somehow, I managed not to laugh. “We’re almost there.”

  The conference centre car park was locked, so we had to park on a nearby side-street. I had no idea what Clare was hoping to find because the venue was obviously closed.

  “Why don’t you try his phone again?” I suggested, as we made our way to the building.

  “I just did. It’s still dead.”

  The main doors to the venue were locked, so we walked around the perimeter in the hope that we might find a security guard at one of the other exits, but there was no one to be seen. When we arrived back at the main doors, Clare sank down onto the steps, and began to sob.

  “It’s going to be alright.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “Tony will be okay.”

  “How can you know that? Maybe he’s been in a car crash.” She wiped her eyes and nose. “That must be it. Nothing else makes any sense. I’m going to call the hospitals.”

  While Clare was on the phone, I decided to try something. I cast the ‘listen’ spell and focussed on the conference centre. I was hoping I might hear a security guard moving around inside, but instead I heard two voices: a man and a woman.

  “Help! Please help us!”r />
  “You’re wasting your time. No one is out there.”

  “At least I’m trying to do something. You’re just standing there like a useless carrot.”

  I recognised Tony’s voice, but there was no way I could tell Clare what I’d just heard. How would I explain how I’d managed to hear him?

  “How’s it going, Clare?” I asked.

  “They’re checking, but there are other hospitals he could have been taken to.”

  “I’ll take another look around the perimeter to see if I can find a security guard.”

  She nodded, and then went back to the phone. “Yes, I’m still holding.”

  On our first lap of the building, I’d noticed that one of the exit doors opened onto a quiet side street, so I hurried back there. I would have liked to use the ‘power’ spell to force the doors, but I was worried that might set off an alarm. Instead, I used the spell that I would normally use to travel from one location to another. I only needed to transport myself a few yards—to the other side of the locked doors. I wasn’t thrilled about gaining access this way because I had no clue what was on the other side of those doors, but it was Hobson’s choice.

  Gross!

  Some idiot had left a giant bin just inside the doors, and I’d managed to magic myself inside of it. I was neck-deep in all manner of discarded food, packaging and empty plastic bottles.

  It was a bit of a struggle, but I managed to lift the bin lid, and climb out. I looked and smelled disgusting, so I used the ‘take-it-back’ spell which worked on my clothes and shoes, but left my hair littered with all manner of rubbish. It took me several minutes to brush all the stuff from my hair.

  I was conscious that Clare would soon come looking for me, so I had to get a sprint on. The man and woman I’d heard earlier were still squabbling, so I followed their voices to a service lift at the rear of the building. Once there, I no longer needed the ‘listen’ spell because I could hear the woman’s calls without it.

 

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