by Adele Abbott
I was in the clubhouse with the captain of the vampire team, Archie Maine, and the captain of the werewolf team, Wayne Holloway. They were both imposing figures in their own way. Archie was the taller of the two, but Wayne just about edged it on overall physique. They were immaculately dressed in suits. Archie in black, Wayne in charcoal.
“I’m sure I speak for both of us,” Wayne said, “when I say it’s good to know that someone is actually treating this issue seriously. The local police have so far seemed spectacularly uninterested.”
The two men nodded in agreement.
“I’m sure their resources are stretched.” Ever the diplomat, that’s me. It was much more likely that the Candlefield police were as incompetent as Maxwell and his crew. “One thing that struck me on the first occasion I met you two gentlemen, and again now, is that you seem to get on very well. Maybe you’re very good at hiding it, but I don’t sense any animosity.”
The two men exchanged a smile, and then hesitated as though unsure which of them should respond. Wayne broke the silence. “Archie and I go way back. We’ve competed in this competition since we were youngsters. On the field, we’re opponents, but off the field we have great respect for one another.”
As Wayne spoke, Archie nodded his head, and then picked up the thread. “There’s no denying this has caused a lot of animosity, but most of it has been among the supporters, and maybe a few of the younger players.”
“So neither of you blames the other?”
“I can’t speak for Wayne,” Archie said. “But all along, my feeling has been that this wasn’t perpetrated by anyone connected to the teams. More likely, it’s some element wanting to stir up trouble.”
“I agree,” Wayne nodded.
“Did you say as much to the police?” I asked.
Both men laughed. “We would have, if anyone had asked. The truth is that the police, and Maxine Jewell in particular, see this as a ‘nothing’ case, which admittedly in the scheme of things it probably is.”
“Something else interests me.” I was warming to the two men. “How do you feel about the exclusion of the wizards? I understand that the Candlefield Cup used to be a three-way competition at one time.”
The question seemed to hit a nerve with both of them. Their smiles disappeared and they looked at one another.
“Do you know the history, Jill?” Wayne asked.
“I know that the wizards were forced to withdraw for a number of years because they were unable to field a team due to a virus.”
“That’s right. Archie and I had just come into our respective teams at the time, so we never got to compete against the wizards.”
There was an uneasy silence, and I felt as though both men were holding back.
“Can it be right to still keep them out?” I asked.
The uneasy silence continued for a few seconds until Wayne broke it. “Speaking for myself, I’d like to see the competition return to a three-way event, but I know Archie would never countenance it.”
“Hold on right there,” Archie said. “I’ve long thought the wizards should be allowed to return, but I knew that you would veto such a move.”
The two men stared at one another.
“Let me see if I understand this correctly,” I said. “Archie, you’d like to return to a three-way competition, but think Wayne would object? And Wayne, you think the same about Archie?”
“It looks that way,” Archie said. “But it’s a bit more complicated. There are many vampires who would be opposed to the wizards being invited back into the competition.”
“Many werewolves too,” Wayne said.
“But ultimately, it’s your decision. The two of you. Is that correct?”
They nodded.
“I believe the competition is due to take place in a few days’ time,” I said. “Why not make it a three-way event this year?”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It’s as easy as you want it to be. Be brave gentlemen.”
The two men looked at me, and then at one another. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but then they smiled.
“Let’s do it,” Wayne said.
“I hope we know what we’re doing.” The two men shook hands.
“What’s the worst that can happen?”
“We may well find out.”
“Now all we need is a trophy to play for,” Archie said.
“I might be able to help with that.” I’d been biding my time. “Would you both mind sitting on this side of the table?”
They shared a puzzled expression, but did as I’d asked and sat with their backs to the plinth.
“Ready?” I asked.
“What’s going on, Jill?” Archie shuffled in his seat.
I took a small mirror from my bag and held it up in front of them. Their reaction was as one. Open-mouthed they spun around to look at the plinth, and then back at the mirror.
“The cup?” Archie said.
“The cup is behind you—where it’s always been. The spell, which is obscuring it from your view, does not prevent its reflection from being seen. That’s why the mirror was destroyed at the same time as the spell was cast.”
“It’s been here all along?” Wayne shook his head in disbelief. “How can we reverse the spell?”
“I could reverse it,” I said. “But there’s someone else who I think should do it.” I walked over to the door, opened it, and in walked Aaron Benway—in his arm was a rectangular parcel wrapped in brown paper.
“Aaron?” Archie gasped.
“Benway, I might have known.” Wayne grinned.
This had been the moment I’d been dreading. I wasn’t sure how the two men would react once they knew who the culprit was.
“Gentlemen,” Aaron nodded to them. “First of all I’d like to apologise for the childish prank. It was borne out of frustration, but even so it isn’t something I’m particularly proud of.” He looked towards the plinth, and reversed the spell. “I bought you this.” He put the parcel on the table. “It’s a mirror to replace the one I broke. It’s as close a match to the original as I could find. Again, I’m sorry for my actions, but you have to understand the frustration that I, and all my team mates, feel at not being able to compete in the Candlefield Cup.”
I had everything crossed. Would the two seated men be so angry that they’d go back on their earlier decision?
You could have cut the tension with a knife. It was Wayne who eventually spoke. “Speaking for myself, I’m not impressed with what you did to the trophy or the mirror.” He took a deep breath. “But then, I’m not impressed by the way we've treated your team over the last few years.”
“I agree,” Archie said. “It took Jill here to make us see how stubborn and ridiculous we’ve been acting.”
“Does that mean you’ll allow the wizards to take part from now on?” I asked.
Wayne and Archie looked at one another, and then turned to Aaron.
“Welcome back,” Archie said.
The three men shook hands.
I had no idea this was such a big deal,” I said.
The Candlefield Cup wasn’t just one of the most important sporting events in the Candlefield calendar; it was also a major carnival. All around the stadium, where the competition was to take place, a small village of stalls and funfair rides had sprung up. The beautiful weather had played its part too; it felt as though all Candlefield had turned out.
“The Cup’s always been popular; even more so this year, thanks to you,” Aunt Lucy said. “It was never the same without all three teams competing.”
“How will all of these people get inside the stadium?”
“They won’t. A lot of people come just for the carnival. Not everyone is a fan of BoundBall.”
“What about you? Do you like it?” I asked.
“I don’t understand it, dear.”
“The twins seem keen.”
“Don’t kid yourself. It’s only since they hooked up with William and Alan. Until then,
they’d always said they hated it. Now, suddenly they’re big fans. Between you and me, I don’t think either of them has the first clue how the game works.”
I laughed. The twins had shut Cuppy C for the day. It seemed like most of the shops in Candlefield were closed. Everyone was at the carnival.
“I feel guilty about taking a seat when I don’t know anything about the game,” I said, as I watched someone throwing balls at the coconut shy. “Isn’t there someone I could give it to?”
“You have to go. You’re the guest of honour.”
That made it worse not better. The three team captains had insisted I accept a ticket in the Captains’ Box. The twins had been green with envy when they heard.
“Jill!” Speaking of the twins, they appeared from behind the tombola stand. Amber was struggling with a huge stick of candy floss while Pearl’s lips were stained red from the toffee apple she was eating.
“Want a bite?” Amber offered her candy floss to me.
“No thanks.” I couldn’t abide the sickly, sweet cobwebs.
“Where are the guys?” Aunt Lucy asked.
The twins had set out early to meet up with their fiancés, Alan and William, who would be on opposing sides in the competition.
“They had to join their teams.”
“Are they nervous?” I offered Pearl a tissue to wipe her mouth. Her clown impression was freaking me out.
“Alan isn’t,” Pearl said. “He knows they’ll win.”
“In his dreams.” Amber scoffed. “The werewolves’ name is as good as on the cup.”
Amber was dressed all in red—the werewolf team’s colours. Pearl sported all blue—the vampire team’s colours.
“Who will you be cheering for, Jill?” Aunt Lucy asked while taking a tissue to Amber’s face.
I’d deliberately avoided dressing in blue, red or green—the colours of the three teams. As I was to be seated in the Captains’ Box, I thought I should remain neutral.
“No one. If the witches had a team, I’d cheer for them.”
“Witches don’t waste their time with BoundBall,” Amber said. “It’s a game for softies.” She glanced around. “Don’t tell William I said that. We play PitchOrDie. Now that’s a real game.”
“PitchOrDie?”
“Don’t worry. No one has ever actually died. Not yet anyway. It’s way better than BoundBall,” Pearl said. “We’ll take you to a game some time.”
Yay! “That’ll be great.” I hated all team sports.
With thirty minutes to go until the first game, I left Aunt Lucy and the twins, and made my way to the Captains’ Box. Archie, Aaron and Wayne were all there, and greeted me warmly. They each introduced me to their respective vice captain.
“We’ve already met.” Drake grinned.
“I didn’t know you played BoundBall,” I said.
“Ever since I was a child. And thanks to you, I get to play in my first Candlefield Cup.”
A bell rang in the box.
“We’d better get down to the changing room,” Drake said. “Maybe I’ll see you later.”
“Maybe. Good luck—all of you.”
The tournament had reverted to its original ‘round robin’ format where each team played the other two. The team with the most points at the end of the day took the trophy.
I’d like to say I was on the edge of my seat, but I’d be lying. I’d like to say I understood the rules of the game, but I’d be lying again. Luckily, everyone else in the stadium seemed to be having a great time.
Three games and what felt like a lifetime later, we had a winner. I’d been invited to present the trophy to the winning captain. Aaron Benway lifted the cup aloft to huge cheers from the wizard section of the stadium, and polite applause from the rest. After a few seconds, he took the microphone and hushed the crowd.
“Ladies and gentlemen. There are two reasons I am able to hold this trophy aloft today. Firstly because the wizards are clearly the better team.” Wizards cheered; everyone else booed good-naturedly. “The second reason is this young woman.”
I wanted the ground to open up beneath my feet. Colour flushed my cheeks.
“Jill Gooder was single-handedly responsible for restoring this tournament to its original glory. Let’s give her a round of applause.”
The whole stadium took to their feet. All eyes seemed to be on me.
Chapter 25
Mrs V was back at her desk, knitting needles in hand, but she didn’t look very happy.
“I’m not happy,” she said. See—nothing gets past me. That’s why I’m a P.I.
“Someone has jumbled up my yarn.”
“I’m sorry about that. The temp I got in was a little over enthusiastic.”
She harrumphed. “And what’s wrong with that cat?”
“What’s he done now?”
“He purred at me, and rubbed against my leg. He’s acting friendly.”
“He is?”
“He’s up to something if you ask me.”
“Leave it with me. I’ll see to Winky. How are you feeling anyway? Is there anything you need?”
“I feel fine, thanks. I wouldn’t say no to a cup of tea though. Two sugars.”
Ah, I’d missed this.
“What are you up to?” I asked Winky, who was scratching his ear.
“What does it look like? My ear itches.”
“With Mrs V, I mean. What are you plotting?”
“Nothing, I was being nice to her.”
“There! That’s what I mean. What are you up to?”
“Sheesh. A cat can’t win around here. When I’m nasty to her, you complain. Now I’m being nice, you think I’m up to something.”
“You don’t do nice.”
“Don’t worry. It won’t last long. It’s just the relief at getting rid of the buninator. Don’t ever let her come back or I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
I hadn’t seen my mother’s ghost for a while, so I was a little startled when she appeared at my desk.
“Hi,” I said.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around, but Lucy and I have been so busy with the wedding arrangements. By the way, what do you make of Lester?”
“Hard to say. I haven’t seen much of him yet. He has a cracking voice though. He cost me a bottle of champagne.”
She laughed. “Yes, I heard all about that. I’ve also been hearing good things about your progress from Grandma.”
“She said I was making progress?”
“Of course not. She said you were doing okay.”
“Just okay?”
“Trust me, that’s praise indeed from her. And I heard about the donkey.”
“I’m trying to forget that.”
“You shouldn’t. You’re doing really well. But that’s not the reason I’m here. I wanted to let you know the date of the wedding. Mark it in your diary now—July 23rd. Anyway, I have to rush. I left Alberto in charge of dinner, and you know what men are like in the kitchen.”
“But—” It was too late—she’d gone. Now what was I supposed to do? July 23rd was Kathy’s birthday. We always went out together on our birthdays. We hadn’t missed one since Dad died. Even though time in Washbridge stood still while I was in Candlefield, it was still going to be tricky trying to juggle both events. Somehow though, I’d have to manage it—what was the alternative? I could hardly tell Kathy that my dead mother’s ghost was getting married. And, not attending the wedding wasn’t an option—it would break my mother’s heart—assuming ghosts had hearts. Aunt Lucy and the twins would be upset, and Grandma would probably kill me.
Speaking of whom, Grandma was waiting for me at the door to her house.
“I’m not late am I?”
“Can you tell the time?”
“Yes, it’s five to.”
“Then you’re not late. Go through to the living room.”
What was it about Grandma that always made me feel like a naughty child who’d been caught with her fingers in the custard cream ja
r?
“The twins aren’t here yet,” I said, when Grandma joined me.
“Nothing wrong with your powers of observation, I see.”
“I meant—where are they?”
“I gave them the day off.”
What about me? I wanted a day off too. “Oh?”
“Don’t pout. It doesn’t suit you. Sit down. There’s something I want to discuss with you.”
This didn’t sound good. What had I done now, and what ghastly punishment awaited me?
“Level one.”
“Yes?”
“Are you competent in all the spells in level one?”
Was it a trick question? Knowing Grandma, it had to be. If I said yes, she’d take great pleasure in humiliating me by proving I wasn’t. If I said no, she’d want to know why not. “Yes, no, I’m not sure.”
“Yes? No? Which is it?”
“Yes, I think I am.”
“Only think?”
“I am competent. Definitely.” I tried, but failed to sound confident.
“I agree.”
Say what? “Pardon?”
“I agree that you are now competent in level one spells—just about. It’s time for you to move on to the next level, which even you must be able to work out, is level two. Are you ready for that?”
I nodded. The twins were on level two—they’d be able to help me.
“And don’t even think of asking Lucy’s girls for help.”
She could read my mind. Of course she could. Even I could do that, but she did it so effortlessly. And now, she was reading this too. Bum.
“Those girls have been floundering on level two for way too long. The kind of help they can give you is the kind of help you don’t need. Understand?”
“Got it. When will I receive the new spell book?”
“It’s waiting for you back at your flat in the human world. It’s replaced the one you’ve been using up until now. I’ve included with it a list of the first spells I’d like you to learn.”
“Thank you.”
“What are you waiting for? Off you go.”
“Right. Thank you. Bye.”
The night I’d been dreading had arrived. Kathy had been taking no chances. She’d come to my flat just after six to make sure I didn’t try to pull a fast one. As if I’d pretend to be ill. The thought had never even crossed my mind.