Witch is Why It Was Over

by Adele Abbott

  “Very sensible. Do you have any more cons planned?”

  “We’ve got one on Saturday.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s CupidCon.”

  “Oh dear.”

  I was just about to go into the house when I glanced across the street, and noticed that the balaclava twins’ van wasn’t on their drive. This was my chance to see if I could find anything which might confirm my suspicion that they were in fact the witchfinders, Vinnie and Minnie Dreadmore.

  I made my way casually across the road, and when I was sure there was no one looking, I slipped around the back of their house. There, in the back garden, were all the buckets that the balaclava twins had purchased from the corner shop. What on earth were they doing with them?

  “Can I help you?” The woman’s voice made me jump.

  I spun around to find the female half of the balaclava twins standing in her back doorway.

  “Oh? Hi. I—err—I’ve just been to the corner shop. I was hoping to buy a bucket, but Jack Corner told me that you’d bought all of his stock.”

  “So?”

  “I wondered if you’d be willing to sell me one?” I glanced at the huge pile of buckets. “If you have any to spare, that is.”

  “No, sorry. We need them all.”

  “You do have rather a lot of them. I’d only need the one.”

  “We don’t have any to spare. Sorry. Was there anything else?”

  “Did you enjoy the cake we brought you?”

  “We threw it away. We don’t eat dairy or gluten.”

  “Right. Okay, well, I’d better be off then. Nice to see—”

  She’d already slammed the door closed.

  Chapter 14

  The next morning, I waited until Jack had left for work, and then made a call to my mother in Ghost Town.

  “Jill? Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. It just occurred to me that we haven’t seen much of each other recently.”

  “That’s partly my fault. I’ve been tied up with Alberto’s stupid garden tours until recently.”

  “I thought it would be nice for us to go out for dinner.”

  “That’s a great idea. It’s a while since Alberto and I—”

  “Actually, I was hoping that just the two of us could have a night out. We never really get the chance to talk properly. It would be an opportunity for us to catch up.”

  “That would be lovely. When did you have in mind?”

  “I realise it’s short notice, but I’ve taken the liberty of booking a table tonight at Poltergeist Nouveau. I hope that’s okay?”

  “Err—yes, that’s fine. I’ve never been there, but I hear it’s very nice. Very expensive too.”

  “That doesn’t matter. It will be my treat. Is eight o’clock okay?”

  “Eight’s fine. I look forward to it.”

  “Great. I’ll see you there, then.”

  One down. One to go.

  “Dad, it’s me.”

  “Hi, Jill. How lovely to hear your voice. I was only saying to Blodwyn yesterday that I hadn’t seen you for a while.”

  “I wondered if you’d like to get dinner with me tonight? Just the two of us?”

  “Tonight? Sure, I’d love to. What’s the occasion?”

  “There doesn’t need to be an occasion, does there?”

  “Of course not.”

  “I’ve booked a table at Poltergeist Nouveau for ten past eight. I hope that works for you.”

  “That’ll be fine. You must let me pay, though. I hear that place is rather expensive.”

  “I wouldn’t hear of it. This will be my treat. I’ll see you there tonight.”

  ***

  When I arrived at the office building, there was a queue of women stretching halfway down the stairs. As I made my way past them, a woman with pink hair grabbed me by the arm.

  “Hey! Get in the queue.”

  “I’m not going to the nail bar. My office is just there at the top of the stairs.”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  “Are they still running special offers? I thought that was just the first two days?”

  “Nah. The offers have finished. Everyone’s here for Nails.”

  “Yeah, I gathered that.” I grinned. “It is a nail bar after all.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t mean that. I’m mean the guy who works there. Everyone calls him Nails. He’s the best nail technician in the country. That’s what I heard, anyway.”

  “Really? Are you sure about that?”

  “Yeah. It’s all over Instagram. My cousin got hers done here yesterday, and they’re mint. Never seen anything like it.”

  Nails a superstar? Who would have thought it?

  “Morning, Mrs V.”

  “Morning, Jill. What do you think about pageboys?”

  “To be honest, I’ve never given them much thought.”

  “I have two great-nieces: Sandy and Mandy. They both have young sons. Sandy’s little boy is called Andy. Mandy’s boy is called—err—now what is it? It’s on the tip of my tongue. It starts with ‘R’.”

  “Randy?”

  “No. Raymond, that’s it. Anyway, when I mentioned to Sandy that Armi and I were getting married, she asked if Andy could be a pageboy, and I said yes. But then, when I told Mandy about the wedding, she said that Raymond wanted to be a pageboy, too.”

  “What’s the problem? Can’t you just have two pageboys?”

  “Normally, I’d say yes, but Andy and Raymond have never got along. Whenever they’re in the same room, they end up fighting.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “I never realised that planning a wedding would be so difficult. You’ve got all this to come, Jill.”

  “Not for a very long time.”

  “That’s not the impression Kathy gave me.”

  “Kathy? When did you see her? What’s she been saying?”

  “I bumped into her on the High Street yesterday. She was telling me all about her plans for Kathy’s Bridal Shop. She said that you and Jack had been discussing your future, and that he was expected to pop the question any day now.”

  “That’s nonsense. Jack and I have never discussed getting married. Kathy must have got the wrong end of the stick as usual.”

  “Pity. We could have had a double wedding. Just think how much we could both save.”

  “Sorry, Mrs V, but that’s not going to happen. Anyway, I must get on.”

  “What about the pageboys? What do you think I should do about them?”

  “Buy them both a pair of boxing gloves?”

  “I have the perfect solution,” Winky said as soon as I walked into my office.

  “To what?”

  “The old bag lady’s pageboy conundrum.”

  “Have you been tabby hanging again.”

  “Was that supposed to be funny?” He rolled his eye.

  “Apparently not. Anyway, you shouldn’t be listening to our conversations. They’re private.”

  “Don’t you want to hear my solution to the pageboy problem?”

  “Not really.”

  “She should forget about Andy and Randy.”

  “Raymond.”

  “Whatever. She should dump that idea, and have a pagecat instead.”

  “That’s very funny.” I laughed.

  “I’m not joking. I’d be great at it. I’d look good in a tux.”

  “Mrs V isn’t going to agree to having you as her pageboy.”

  “Pagecat.”

  “It’s never going to happen.”

  “You could at least float the idea to her.”

  “No chance. She already thinks I’ve got a few slates loose.”

  Just then, the temperature dropped, and realising that a ghost was about to materialise, Winky shot under the sofa.

  “Hi, Colonel.”

  “Sorry to drop in unannounced, Jill. I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”

  “It’s fine. I was just talking to my cat.”

  “I haven’t seen that one-ey
ed terror for a while.” He glanced around. “Where’s he hiding?”

  “He’s under there. He isn’t very fond of ghosts, I’m afraid.”

  “Of course. I sometimes forget that I’m a ghost.” He crouched down, so he could see under the sofa. “Come on, boy. I won’t hurt you.”

  Winky didn’t budge; he just hissed at the colonel.

  “I popped in to let you know that I’ve sorted Harry and Larry out with the Spookberry.”

  “So I understand.”

  “Have you had any thoughts on that scoundrel, Homer Range?”

  “I have as it happens, but to put my plan into action, I’m going to need the use of your old house again. Do you think there’s any chance of that?”

  “As luck would have it, Murray Murray has just embarked on a European tour. He’s going to be away for two months. You can use the house any time that suits you. What did you have in mind?”

  “I’ve spoken to Constance Bowler. She confirmed that the police will take action against Range if I can provide her with proof that he’s selling unlicensed Spookberry in quantity. I plan to do just that.”

  “Excellent. The sooner that blaggard is behind bars, the better. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “It would make life easier if you could be at the house to let me in.”

  “When?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I’ll let you know once I have everything organised.”

  “Right you are, Jill. I’d better be getting back. I promised I’d take Priscilla shopping for a new dress.” He crouched down again. “Bye, Winky old boy.”

  Winky hissed even louder.

  ***

  When I arrived at Cuppy C, the twins and Aunt Lucy were standing outside. Grandma was already in the shop, along with another twelve witches, most of whom I recognised from the various competitions I’d taken part in.

  “Do you think it will work this time, Jill?” Amber asked, anxiously.

  “Yeah, I’m sure it will.”

  What else was I going to say? In truth, I was feeling far from confident.

  “You’re the last one to arrive as usual.” Grandma greeted me when I walked through the door.

  “You said ten-thirty. It’s only—”

  “Never mind that. We have work to do.” She turned to the other witches, and called for order. “You all know why we’re here. It’s pretty obvious which spell we’re up against, so if we all focus on reversing the ‘softer’ spell, I see no reason why it shouldn’t work. Does anyone have any questions?”

  There were none.

  “Good. In that case, we’ll go on three. One, two, three.”

  I’d never experienced anything quite like the combined force of so many witches. Everyone had their eyes closed to ensure maximum focus on the task in hand. When I eventually opened mine, the floor and tables were as wobbly as before.

  No one spoke for the longest moment, but then Grandma broke the silence.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this. No spell should be able to withstand our combined power.”

  “Is this Braxmore’s work?” Katrina Corke asked.

  “I don’t know, but we can’t dismiss that possibility. Whoever cast this spell has the power equivalent to more than a dozen level six witches.”

  “How many witches do you think it would take to break the spell, Mirabel?” A witch I didn’t recognise asked.

  “How am I supposed to know that, Deirdre?” Grandma snapped.

  While Grandma continued to respond to questions, I started for the door.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” She called after me.

  “I thought I’d better tell the twins what had happened.”

  “I’m sure they can see for themselves.”

  “Would you rather I stayed?”

  “No, you may as well go. There’s nothing more to be done for the moment. I’ll need to give this some more thought. Make sure you all keep your phones close by because I may need to call you back here at short notice.”

  I’d lied when I’d told Grandma my reason for leaving was to update the twins. As she’d pointed out, they didn’t need to be told that our attempts to reverse the spell had failed; that was obvious for anyone to see. I had another reason for wanting to get away.

  After magicking myself back to Washbridge, I made a phone call.

  “Alicia. It’s Jill. Can you tell me which unit on the industrial estate Ma Chivers has those witches working out of?”

  “Why? What are you planning to do?”

  “Pay it a visit.”

  “That could be dangerous.”

  “I’m prepared to take that risk.”

  “At least let me come with you.”

  “No. Just tell me which unit they’re in.”

  “Thirty-one.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  At this point, the sensible thing to do would have been to tell Grandma what I was planning. But no one could ever accuse me of being sensible. And besides, this long shot was so long that I didn’t want to make myself look a complete fool in front of her.

  What? Yes, I do know what comes before a fall. Thanks for the reminder, though.

  I could have simply magicked myself to the Flawton Industrial Estate, but I opted to drive there. That way, I figured I would give myself enough time to formulate a carefully constructed plan of action.

  At least, that was the theory, but when I arrived there, I still had zero idea of what I was going to do.

  Unit thirty-one was at the far side of the small industrial estate. The single-storey building was nondescript; it didn’t even have a sign to indicate the nature of the business inside.

  I made my way to reception, but the door was locked, and I couldn’t see anyone through the window. I tried the bell but there was no response. Had Alicia sent me on some kind of wild goose chase?

  I cast the ‘listen’ spell. If there were dozens of witches working inside, then I should be able to hear them.

  There was only silence.

  Thank goodness I hadn’t dragged Grandma here; she would have given me so much grief.

  “Achoo!”

  The sound of someone sneezing stopped me dead in my tracks. I waited several minutes, but heard no more sounds. I was just on the point of abandoning this fool’s errand when I heard another sneeze. There was definitely someone inside, and I needed to find out what they were up to.

  The ‘power’ spell made short work of the fire door at the back of the building. Once inside, I listened again, but could hear nothing. After walking by a number of empty offices, I came upon a set of rubber doors. I pushed them aside, walked into the large room, and then stared in disbelief at the sight that greeted me.

  Seated at row upon row of tables were at least a hundred witches. On each table was a tiny cube, little bigger than a dice. The witches didn’t appear to register my arrival, and although they were all sitting upright, they had their eyes closed as though they were asleep. None of them stirred as I walked up and down the aisles.

  I had no idea what was going on.

  “Excuse me,” I said to the witch seated at the end of one of the rows.

  She didn’t react.

  “Excuse me!” Louder this time. When that didn’t work, I gave her a gentle shake.

  “What?” Her eyes blinked open. “Who are you?”

  “Never mind that. What are you doing?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You seemed to be in some kind of trance.”

  “I was casting a spell. The same one, over and over.”

  “Which spell?”

  “Why? Who are you? Do you work for Ma Chivers?”

  “No. Look, this is very important. Which spell were you casting?”

  “The ‘softer’ spell.”

  “But what were you casting it on? There’s nothing here—apart from this tiny little box? What is that anyway?”

  “It’s a spell battery.”

  “What does it do?”

&nb
sp; “Ma Chivers sells them to companies in the human world that need to soften their products.”

  “That’s nonsense.”

  “It’s what she told us. Why else would she be paying us to work on them?”

  “I don’t care what she told you. Your magic is being used for evil purposes in Candlefield.”

  “That can’t be right.”

  “It most certainly is. Do you know Cuppy C?”

  “The twins’ tea room?”

  “That’s right. The twins are my cousins.”

  “Are you Jill Gooder?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sorry, Jill, I didn’t recognise you. I’m still feeling a little out of it. I’ve never focussed on a single spell for such a long time. What were you saying about Cuppy C?”

  “It’s been put out of action. Someone has cast the ‘softer’ spell on the furniture and floor.”

  “Couldn’t it have been cast by a level six witch who the twins had upset? They can be a little offhanded sometimes.”

  “No, it’s not that. Earlier today, a dozen level six witches tried to reverse the spell, and we couldn’t.”

  “Wow!”

  “Exactly. Somehow, Ma Chivers is using these so-called batteries to power a spell so powerful it’s practically impossible to reverse.”

  “That’s terrible. I wouldn’t have had anything to do with it if I’d known. I doubt any of the others would have either. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Is Ma Chivers anywhere around?”

  “I’m not sure, but I doubt it. She usually comes in at the beginning of the day, and then again just before we leave.”

  “Good. In that case, you can help me to snap all the others out of their focus, and then I’ll explain what’s going on to everyone.”

  It took us almost an hour to bring all of the witches out of their trance-like state.

  “Ladies. Can I have your attention, please? There’s something important that you all need to know. The ‘work’ that Ma Chivers has you doing is not what it seems.”

  “Where is Ma Chivers?” A witch in the back row shouted. “Who are you, anyway?”

  “Are you stupid?” Someone from the row in front of her turned around. “That’s Jill Gooder.”