by Adele Abbott
“How’s my favourite Everette?”
“Don’t start, Jill. I’m not in the mood. There’s a cantankerous old man on the roof terrace who makes your grandmother seem reasonable and mild mannered. He just complained that he didn’t like the shape of the ice cubes in his cocktail.”
“You should have poured it over his head.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“How’s Peter?”
“Alright, why?”
“I bumped into him yesterday, and he just seemed a bit—err—off it.”
“Don’t tell me—let me guess. He told you about that stupid maze, didn’t he?”
“He might have mentioned it.”
“It’s ridiculous. It’s one thing for Lizzie to believe in ghosts, but I’m not standing for it from Pete. He was absolutely terrified when he called me yesterday morning. He’d walked off the job because he reckoned he’d seen a ghost with its head under its arm. I told him not to be so silly. Anyway, when he came home last night, he’d been back to finish the job, and guess what?”
“No ghosts?”
“Got it in one. That man does my head in sometimes. How are things with you? Busy?”
“Yeah. I’ve got work coming at me from all angles. Oh, and I have some big news.”
“You’re pregnant?”
“No, but the twins are.”
“Which one of them?”
“Both of them.”
“That’s fantastic! You’ll have to get them to come over sometime. Or we could go and visit them. That would make a nice change.”
“I’ll speak to them, and see what I can arrange. Better rush. Bye.”
***
When I was halfway up the stairs to my offices, I heard the sound of someone crying.
“Jules? Whatever is the matter?”
“It’s Gilbert,” she managed, but then the waterworks really started.
“Why don’t I make you a nice cup of tea, and then you can tell me all about it?”
What? I can do sympathetic. Or, at least, what passes as a good impression of it.
“There you go.” I passed her the tea, and waited until she’d dried her eyes and wiped her runny nose. “What’s happened?”
“He’s found someone else.”
“Are you sure? He seemed so fond of you.”
“I’m positive. It’s all the fault of those stupid bottle tops.”
“How do you mean?”
“We were fine together before he became interested in those. When we were at ToppersCon, I saw him talking to this one girl a few times. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but then yesterday, I saw what was on his phone.”
“Why were you looking at his phone?”
“Because I sensed he was up to something behind my back. There were tons of messages from that girl. And pictures of her blowing kisses to him.”
“What did you do?”
“I confronted him about it.”
“What did he say?”
“That he thought we should call it a day.”
“I’m really sorry, Jules. That’s horrible.”
“I wouldn’t mind so much, but he said the reason he was chucking me was because she was into bottle tops. He said he couldn’t talk to me about them. It isn’t fair, Jill.” She started to cry again. “I’ve been dumped for bottle tops.”
“He isn’t worth it, Jules. There are plenty more fish in the sea. Look, why don’t you call it a day, and go home?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. You get off. And you should go out tonight with your friends. You’ll soon forget about—err—what’s-his-name.”
“What’s that awful noise out there?” Winky asked when I went through to my office.
“It’s just Jules. She’s upset. Her boyfriend has just dumped her over bottle tops.”
“You humans are weird.”
“Who are you calling human? And how come you aren’t busy making your silly tin foil hats?”
“I would be, but I have a tin foil emergency.”
“How come?”
“I’ve run out.”
“The answer’s no.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I assume you were about to ask me to go and buy some tin foil for you. Well, the answer is no. I’m too busy.”
“There’s no need. It’s already in hand.”
Just then, there was a knock at my office door.
“Hi.” The young man was dressed in a very smart, blue uniform and matching cap.
“Can I help you?”
“I have a delivery.” He passed me a note to sign.
“Express Tin Foil?”
“I have three rolls downstairs. Is it okay if I bring them up?”
I glanced at Winky who was all smiles.
“Yes. I suppose so.”
“Great. It’s cash on delivery, as arranged.”
“Hold on! What?” It was too late; he was already on his way downstairs.
I had no choice but to pay, but as soon as the delivery man had left, I grabbed Winky, tipped him upside down, and shook him until I had my money back.
And before you write in to complain, I didn’t literally tip him upside down and shake him. Sheesh, what do you think I am? Don’t answer that.
***
I had two stops to make on the way home: the corner shop, and first, the fish and chip shop where I found Daze and Blaze hard at work. They looked equally miserable.
“Hi, guys. It’s always good to see people happy in their work.”
They both shot me the same withering look.
“I hate this assignment,” Blaze leaned on the counter. “Maze has threatened to dump me if I keep coming home smelling of fish.”
“I have something to tell you which will enable you to get out of here.”
“I’m listening,” Daze said.
“I think you may be looking in the wrong place for your gargoyles.”
“How so?”
“I’ve been working on a case at Colonel Briggs’ old house.”
“Didn’t a popstar buy that place?”
“Yes. Murray Murray owns it now. Anyway, while I was up there, Murray happened to mention that a few small items of silver had gone missing. He also said that some of the gargoyles had disappeared off the front of the building. He assumed they’d been blown off during the recent storms.”
“Jill!” Daze beamed. “You’re a life-saver.”
“Don’t get your hopes up too high. I’m only telling you what Murray told me.”
“Come on, Blaze.” Daze was already taking off her smock. “We have work to do.”
He didn’t need telling twice.
“What about the customers?” I asked.
“They’ll just have to manage without their fish and chips for one day. We have bigger gargoyles to fry. Thanks, Jill.”
Tish and Chip wouldn’t be very thrilled when they discovered that they’d lost an evening’s takings, but at least Daze and Blaze were happy. Hopefully, they’d catch the gargoyles, and maybe even recover Murray Murray’s silver.
When I arrived at the corner shop, there was no sign of the string that had obstructed the aisles on my previous visit. As I picked up the few bits and pieces I needed, I noticed that several mirrors had been stuck to the walls at regular intervals.
“Good day, Jill.” Little Jack Corner greeted me.
“Hi, Jack. I see you’ve given up on the hydraulic platform.”
“Yes. I sent it back for a refund. The last time I tried it, I almost decapitated myself. I had to jump off, onto a pile of toilet rolls.”
“Gosh. Were you okay?”
“Yes. Fortunately, they were the luxury brand. Double cushioned.”
“I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve put up lots of mirrors?”
“That’s Cornercomms mark two.”
“Sorry?”
“You may recall that the last time you were in here, we were using the cans and string to co
mmunicate with one another.”
“I do indeed. We had to limbo under the string.”
“We had a few complaints about that. The truth is that Cornercomms mark one hadn’t been given enough thought. We’ve now scrapped that idea, and replaced it with mark two.”
“The mirrors?”
“Precisely.”
“And how exactly does Cornercomms mark two work?”
“Would you like to see a demonstration?”
“Sure.”
He reached under the counter, and produced a hand torch.
“Depending on where Missy is in the shop, I shine this torch at the appropriate mirror. So, for example, if she was in the biscuit aisle, I would shine it at the first mirror over there. At the moment, she’s actually at the far end of the shop—”
“Near the buckets?”
“That’s right, so I’ll shine it at the third mirror. Watch. I’ll show you.”
He pointed the torch at the third mirror, and flashed it on and off. A few moments later, the light from Missy’s torch could be seen in that same mirror.
“Semaphore, I assume?”
“Exactly. And the beauty of Cornercomms mark two is that there’s no string to obstruct the aisles.”
“Quite ingenious.”
“Thank you. Would you like me to signal Missy to bring you a bucket while she’s down there?”
“No, thanks. I’m still good for buckets.”
When I arrived home, Jack was already in the house.
“Where did you buy those?” I pointed to the plateful of cupcakes.
“I didn’t. Blossom brought them over a few minutes ago.”
“That was nice of her.”
“Apparently, she’s just heard she’s going to be a great-grandma. She bought these to celebrate. She was so excited.”
“Bless. Blossom is lovely.”
“Which is more than can be said for those two weirdos who have moved in next door to her.”
“Have you actually managed to speak to them properly yet?”
“No. They were getting into their van when I got home; they were wearing matching balaclavas again. I waved to them, and shouted ‘hi’, but they just ignored me, and drove off. Have you noticed that all the windows in their van are tinted?”
“Oh well. At least we have one nice new neighbour. Let’s see what we have here. By my calculations, that’s three cupcakes for me, and two for you.”
Chapter 18
When I arrived at the office the next morning, Mrs V was by herself.
“Morning, Mrs V. Not knitting?”
“I’m too nervous to knit, dear.”
“Nervous about what?”
“The competition on Saturday, of course.”
“You don’t have anything to be nervous about. I’ve told Jack he has to let you and Armi win.”
“No!” She looked horrified. “He mustn’t do that. I wouldn’t want to win by underhand means.”
What was wrong with people?
“Relax. I’m only joking. And, besides, Jack would never agree to do anything like that.”
“Of course he wouldn’t. A man of integrity is Jack.”
“Just like me.”
“Hmm?”
“How is the practising going?”
“Really well. Armi and I seem to have hit our peak at just the right time.”
“It should be in the bag, then?”
“Hopefully, but you should never count your chickens. Do you remember when Armi broke his ankle just before the Cuckoo Clock Appreciation Society dinner and dance?”
“That was really unlucky.”
“I’ve warned him to be extra careful because if he does it again, I’ll break his other leg. Anyway, enough about me. How was your visit to Jack’s parents?”
“We had a lovely weekend, thanks. I won at Monopoly.”
“I hope you didn’t cheat.”
“Of course not. And I got to see photos of Jack when he was a baby. He wasn’t best pleased about that.”
“What are mothers for if not to embarrass you?”
“While I think of it, I’d better warn you to be gentle with Jules when you see her next.”
“Why? What’s the matter?”
“She and Gilbert have split up. Or to be more precise, he’s dumped her for a woman who shares his passion for bottle tops.”
“Poor girl.”
***
Once again, there was a long queue of cats, all waiting to purchase Winky’s tin foil hats. I couldn’t get my head around why there would be so much demand for them.
“Excuse me,” I said to the Russian Blue at the back of the queue.
“Yes?”
“I’m curious about what prompted you to buy a tin foil hat today?”
“Haven’t you seen the news article?”
“I can’t say I have.”
He produced a phone, and brought up a video. It was a feline news article filmed out on the streets of Washbridge. The reporter was a cat, wearing sunglasses and a large brimmed hat. I held it close to my ear, so I could hear what was being said.
Reports are still coming in of UFOs spotted in the sky above Washbridge. The authorities are advising everyone to take cover inside, but first, as a matter of urgency, you must obtain the only protection available: a tin foil hat.
I was just about to hand back the phone when I noticed the small strip across the bottom of the video; on it was a scrolling message: Sponsored by Winky’s Tin Foil Hats.
“Thanks.” I handed back the phone.
Just then, my phone rang. It was Desmond Sidings.
“Miss Gooder, the police have confirmed that they’re going to hand back The Flyer this afternoon if you still want to take a look around the old girl.”
“Definitely. I’ll come over early afternoon.”
Meanwhile, more and more cats were coming through the window to join the queue for tin foil hats.
***
I magicked myself over to Candlefield, and made my way to the house where Cynthia Drewmore lived.
“Cynthia. I spoke to you yesterday.”
“Come in.” She was very business-like. “Let’s go through to the living room.”
“Thank you for seeing me.”
“What’s this all about?”
“Like I said on the phone. I’m trying to trace descendants of a Helen Drewmore.”
“I know that. But why?”
“It’s rather difficult to explain.”
“Try. I don’t have much time to spare.”
“Okay. Well, I guess it all started with this locket.” I opened it for her to see. “I’ve been trying to find out who these two people are.”
She stared at it, and then back at me. “Where did you get this?”
“The man in the picture left it in my office. At least, I think he did; I didn’t actually see him do it. He was found dead the same day.”
“He’s dead?” The colour drained from her face, and I thought she might collapse.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.” She didn’t look it. “Are you sure he’s dead?”
“Positive. I realise that I’m not making much sense. Maybe it would help if I told you why I’m looking for Helen Drewmore?”
“Okay.”
“Have you heard of CASS?”
“The school? Of course.”
“I visited there some time ago, and while I was there I had a feeling that I somehow had a connection to the place. I was drawn to one room in particular. It was in there that I saw the two people in this locket. Helen Drewmore was there too.”
“You can’t have seen Helen.” Cynthia blurted out.
“So, you do know her?”
“I know you can’t possibly have seen her.”
“When I say that I saw her, she wasn’t actually there—none of them were. I think it was some kind of distant memory. I heard them talking, and then I saw the young woman hand this locket to Helen. This must sound like nonsense to you
?”
Cynthia took a seat, and for the first time, her stony face cracked—just a little. “Actually, it doesn’t.”
“It doesn’t?”
“I heard about the locket, and the two people whose portraits are in it from my mother. She was told the story by her mother—my grandmother: Helen Drewmore.”
“But if your mother married, how come—?”
“She kept the name Drewmore, and passed it on to me? Because my grandmother asked us to keep the name, so that we could be found when the time came.”
“Found by who? By me?”
“Yes, but not only you. There was someone who came before you—before I was born. Her name was—”
“Magna Mondale?”
“That’s right. I think I should make us a drink. This is a long story.”
After she’d made tea, I joined her on the sofa. Her whole demeanour had changed, and she now seemed keen to help.
“My grandmother, Helen, was initially employed as Juliet Braxmore’s nanny, and then later, she became her handmaid and companion.”
“Braxmore?”
“You’ve heard the name before?”
“Yes. Wasn’t he one of the most powerful wizards in Candlefield?”
“Back then, they were known as grandmasters. There were two of them: Braxmore and Charles Wrongacre.”
“The building where CASS is now housed used to belong to Wrongacre.”
“That’s right. The red-haired man in the locket is his son, Damon. Wrongacre was a good man, but Braxmore was evil personified. He may still be.”
“He’s still alive, after all this time?”
“No one knows for sure, but there have been rumours. Anyway, as I was saying, Juliet was Braxmore’s daughter. Unlike her father, she was loving and kind. She and Damon fell in love, and wanted to marry, but Braxmore wouldn’t allow it. Rather than be separated, Juliet and Damon died together.”
“They committed suicide?”
“Not exactly. It’s much more complicated than that, but it’s all explained in my grandmother’s journal.”
“Do you have it?”
“Yes. On her deathbed, my grandmother gave it to my mother, Freda. She, in turn, gave it to me, just before she passed away. Just as my mother had done, I promised never to show it to another living soul until—”