by Adele Abbott
“I thought he was still living in London?”
“He’s supposed to be. I’ve no idea what he’s doing here. He must have contacted my mother; she’s just stupid enough to have told him that I was back here. She hasn’t got the brains she was born with.”
“I thought he’d dumped you for your friend?”
“Thanks for the reminder, Jill.”
“Sorry.”
“Maybe my former best friend has dumped him already. Or he’s realised what he’s missing. Either way, I don’t want to see him. And I certainly can’t let him see me dressed like this.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not exactly how he’s used to seeing me dress. I’ve no idea how I’d explain that I’m working as a librarian. Hopefully, my mother hasn’t already told him.”
At that point we both heard an almighty bang as the door of the outer office crashed open. I could hear Mrs V shouting at someone, and a man shouting right back at her.
“That’s him,” Mad said. “He must have followed me. What am I going to do?”
“It’s okay. Don’t panic.”
In walked a tall, good-looking, if rather thuggish young man who had tattoos on both arms. He was wearing ripped jeans, and trainers which had seen better days.
“Mad?” He stared at her. “What’s going on? Why are you dressed like that?”
“Hello, Troy.”
Troy? Really?
“I asked you a question,” he yelled. “Why are you dressed like that? And why is your hair in a bun?”
“More to the point, why are you here, Troy?”
“I came to get you, didn’t I?”
“Well you’ve had a wasted journey. We’re done.”
“Don’t be daft. Me and you were meant to be together.”
“In that case, what were you doing with Cynthia?”
“That was nothing. We were just messing around.”
“That’s not what I’d call it.”
“Yeah, but it didn’t mean anything. I’d had a drink. You know what I’m like when I’ve had a drink.”
“Stupid, you mean?”
“Can’t we talk about this? You don’t want to live up here; you always said you hated Washbridge.”
“Not as much as I hate you—and Cynthia.”
“I still don’t know what you’re doing dressed like that. You look like a librarian or something. Where are your normal clothes?”
“Just leave, Troy.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”
This conversation was going nowhere fast. It was time for me to step in.
“Troy,” I shouted.
“Huh?” He turned to look at me, and when he did, I cast the ‘forget’ spell.
“Quick, Mad.” I grabbed her arm. “You shoot off before he comes around properly.”
“Okay, Jill. Thanks.”
“Where am I?” Troy said. “What’s this place?”
“This is a private investigator’s office. I’m Jill Gooder. Did you want me for something?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re in my office. I assume you wanted to see me?”
“No. I don’t really know why I’m here.”
“Well in that case, maybe you should leave.”
“I remember. I was looking for Mad.”
“Mad what?”
“Madeline. She’s my girlfriend. I was looking for her. But then—I don’t know what happened.”
“I think you’d better leave now.”
“Okay. Yeah. Sorry. Bye then.”
And with that, Troy left.
***
Minutes later, Jack Maxwell turned up.
“Do you have a minute, Jill?”
“Sure. Would you like a coffee?”
“No, I can’t stay. There’s something I have to tell you, and I wanted to do it face to face.”
“That sounds serious.”
“I’m being transferred.”
“Transferred where?”
“To the north of England.”
“But you’ve only been in Washbridge for five minutes.”
“I know. It doesn’t usually happen this way. I’d assumed I’d be here for at least three years. Then, out of the blue, I got the message earlier today that there’s a staff shortage in Westmonton. And, for some reason, my name came out of the hat.”
“Can’t you turn it down?”
“I did try. I said I’d barely scratched the surface here, and wanted time to make my mark, but it didn’t cut any ice. As far as the force is concerned, orders are orders. If they say, ‘jump,’ I have to jump. If they say, ‘Go to the north of England,’ then that’s where I have to go.”
“When do you leave?”
“A couple of days, tops.”
“I see.”
I didn’t know what to say. We hadn’t been in a relationship as such, but I had begun to feel as though we were getting closer. And the fact that he wanted to deliver his news in person, suggested he might feel the same.
“I know you and I got off to a bad start,” he said. “But since then, I think we’ve worked well together.”
“Wow! Coming from you, that’s quite the compliment.”
He wasn’t kidding about the bad start. When he’d first arrived in Washbridge, he’d been a real pain in the backside, and had made my life as difficult as he could. Right from the start, he’d made it perfectly clear he didn’t want me anywhere near any of his investigations. It was only later that I’d discovered the reason for his dislike of private investigators. He’d been involved in a kidnapping case in his previous post, which had gone badly wrong with the result that the hostage had been killed. The blame for that had fallen fairly and squarely with a negligent, private investigator.
“Anyway,” he said. “I just thought I’d come around and let you know. I’ll leave a note for my successor to tell him that he should cut you some slack. At least more than I did in the beginning.”
“Thanks, Jack. I appreciate that.”
“Not at all, you deserve it. You’re no mug, and I know that if it hadn’t been for your help, there would still be a number of unsolved cases on our books.” He leaned forward and gave me a peck on the cheek, and then left.
I stared at the door until long after he had gone. I’d really blown it this time. He’d obviously felt closer to me than I’d realised, and yet I’d been so blind or so stubborn that I hadn’t acted upon it. And now, it was too late.
I wiped away a tear.
“Jill?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin, and turned to find Grandma sitting on the sofa.
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to see the waterworks. What’s wrong with you, woman?”
“Nothing, I’ve just got something in my eye.”
“Really? I thought it was because that detective friend of yours was leaving.”
“You heard all of that?”
“I hear everything. You should know that.”
I wiped my eyes again. I didn’t want to cry in front of Grandma. “He’s just a friend.”
“Hmm, that’s not what it looked like to me.”
“Why are you here, Grandma?”
“I came to check up on you.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s the Compass competition in a few days’ time, and I wanted to make sure that you’re getting in plenty of practise. A team is only as good as its weakest link.”
“I’m practising, Grandma. I’ve been doing nothing else.”
“Good. I don’t want this Jack business to get in the way. Understand?”
“Understood, captain!”
“The Compass competition must be your top priority. Forget everything else, and just focus on your magic. I want you to be on tip-top form on the day. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Good.”
***
I really didn’t feel like going around
to Kathy’s, but I’d promised to go over for coffee. I should have been practising for the Compass competition, but that wasn’t what was on my mind. It was the thought of Jack Maxwell’s transfer. I never realised just how much he meant to me until he said he was leaving. I was such an idiot. If I’d allowed our relationship to develop instead of flitting back and forth between him, Drake, Luther and every other man who happened to wander into my path, then who knows what might have happened? But it was too late now. In a few days’ time, he’d be gone, and that would be it.
“Jill?” Kathy made me jump. I’d zoned out while drinking my coffee. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“Don’t lie. I can tell something’s wrong.”
“It’s nothing, honestly.”
“You haven’t touched your custard creams, so don’t tell me nothing’s wrong. You never turn your nose up at a custard cream.”
“I’m not really hungry.”
“What’s happened? You might as well tell me because I’m not letting up until you do.”
“If you must know, Jack Maxwell is leaving.”
“For good?”
“Yeah. He’s been transferred to the north of England somewhere.”
“But he hasn’t been here for very long, has he?”
“He said it was rare to be transferred again so quickly. He thought he’d be here for at least three years. But the order came through, and apparently there’s nothing he can do about it.”
“When did he tell you?”
“Earlier today. He came to the office.”
“How has he taken it?”
“He wasn’t happy.”
“Because he’s got to relocate? Or because he’s leaving you?”
“A bit of both, I think. That’s what makes it worse. I didn’t even realise that he cared. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. He’s leaving. It’s my own fault; I should’ve listened to you.”
“Whoa, steady on.” Kathy looked shocked. “Now you really have got me worried. If you’re actually admitting that you should’ve listened to me, something must be seriously wrong.”
“It’s true though, isn’t it? You told me it was time to take my relationships seriously; to pick someone and stick with them. I should’ve listened to you. I liked Jack from the get-go even though he was a pain in the backside. There was just something about him. I’ve messed up big time.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s not like it’s all your fault. He should have done something about it, too.”
“It doesn’t matter now. He’s going, and that’s all there is to it.”
I was just about to leave Kathy’s when my phone rang. It was Jack. When I showed her the caller ID, she nodded and went through to the kitchen to give me some privacy.
“Hi, Jill. I thought you’d want to know my news.”
“I thought I already did?”
“Everything’s changed.”
“Changed how?”
“The transfer’s been cancelled. I’m not leaving.”
“You’re not? How come?”
“Beats me. It was signed, sealed, and delivered as far as I knew. Yesterday, my boss said there was no chance of the transfer being reversed, but then an hour ago, I was called into his office. He said I’m staying put for at least three years.”
“Did he say why?”
“I don’t think he knows why. He said the order had come from high-up—from a Commander Millbright. My boss had never heard of him.”
I was gobsmacked. Commander Millbright? That could not be a coincidence.
“Jill, are you still there?”
“Sorry, yes. That’s great news. I’m really pleased. Thanks for letting me know.”
“I guess I’m going to have to put up with you for a while longer.” He laughed.
“I guess so. I’ll try not to give you too much grief.”
“Look, we should go out for a drink, to celebrate.”
“I’d like that.”
“Okay. I’d better get going. Duty calls. I’ll be in touch to arrange something.”
“All right, Jack. See you later.”
Kathy came back through. “That sounded like good news.”
“His transfer’s been cancelled. He’s staying in Washbridge.”
“That was a quick change of plan.”
“I know. Apparently someone high up in the force vetoed the move.”
“You must be thrilled.”
“I am. Yes.”
“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, and take advantage of this. Don’t blow it a second time.”
“I won’t.”
“I know you, Jill. You’ll go back to how you were, just messing around.”
“I won’t. He’s already said we should go out on a date to celebrate. Maybe that will be the start of something?”
“Make sure it is, because you don’t want to find yourself in this same position in three-years’ time when he does move on.”
“I know. You’re right.”
As I walked to the car, I remembered what Jack had said. Commander Millbright? It must have been Grandma. She’d somehow managed to get Jack’s transfer cancelled. But why? Maybe I’d misjudged her?
Chapter 23
The next morning, I was feeling as happy as a lark; all was well with the world for once. Nothing could spoil my good mood.
“Hello, Jill.”
I’d spoken too soon. It was Dougal Andrews, or as I still thought of him, Dougal Bugle.
“What do you want, Dougal?”
“That’s no way to greet a friend.” He had his trademarked false smile plastered across his face.
“If you were a friend, I’d be civil. But seeing as you’re an obnoxious scumbag, I don’t feel the need.”
“I know you don’t really mean that.”
“I’m on my way to work. I don’t have time to talk to you.”
“What did you think of the slavery article?”
“I thought it was absolute trash. But then, so is everything printed in that rag of yours.”
“The Bugle is not a ‘rag’. I’ll have you know we’ve just recruited one of the country’s top investigative reporters.”
“If he’s agreed to work on The Bugle, he can’t be anything special.”
“It’s not a ‘he’, it’s a ‘she’. Susan Hall—you’ve probably heard of her. She’s won all kinds of awards.”
“Can’t say I have, and I really don’t care. Oh, and if I was you, I’d steer well clear of my P.A.”
“Your slave, you mean?”
“Annabel Versailles is no one’s slave. But I can tell you this for nothing. If she gets her hands on you, you’ll wish you’d never been born.”
Dougal laughed it off. But then he probably spent most of his day being on the wrong end of threats. He was born to do that job; he was a slimeball if ever there was one.
“Get out of the way, Dougal. I’ve got work to do.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know what my next story is going to be?”
“Let me think about that for a moment. Err—no, I don’t give a monkey’s.”
“I know you do really. There’s a rumour going around of unethical practices in one of Washbridge’s newest retailers.”
“Dougal, you’re confusing me with somebody who cares.”
“As a member of the Washbridge community, you should care if one of the shops in the area is cheating people.”
“Get lost, Dougal!”
“It’s that new wool shop. You may have heard of it: Ever A Wool Moment, I think it’s called.”
My heart sank. What had Dougal dug up on ‘Ever’? Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good. “I’ve seen the shop, yes.”
“It seems they’re making promises that are simply impossible to keep. Apparently, they’re offering a product called Everlasting Wool. I ask you, how can wool last forever?”
“Maybe it’s a new invention?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You k
now as well as I do that a ball of wool can’t go on forever. And, that’s not the only thing. They’re selling One-Size Knitting Needles too. Apparently, instead of having to buy different needles for different projects, this new-fangled gadget is meant to resize itself magically.”
“I’m not interested. Why are you telling me this?”
“Like I said, I figured that as a member of the Washbridge community, you’d want to be made aware. You’ll be able to read the full story when it appears shortly. I’m going down there now to check a few facts.”
“Good luck with that.”
As Dougal went whistling on his merry way, I made a quick call to Kathy, who I knew would be at work by now.
“Kathy, do you remember that article The Bugle printed under my name?”
“The hatchet job on the police?”
“That’s the one. Well, I just bumped into Dougal Andrews, the guy who wrote it. He’s a real nasty piece of work. He did another article last week on Mrs V, which made out that I was treating her like a slave.”
“Oh dear.” Kathy laughed. “I missed that one.”
“I wouldn’t laugh just yet. He’s just told me that he’s investigating a new shop in town which is cheating the Washbridge customers. Apparently that shop is Ever A Wool Moment.”
“What do you mean, ‘cheating’?”
“He’s suspicious of Everlasting Wool and One-Size Knitting Needles, and I think he’s on his way over there right now.”
“What am I supposed to do? I don’t know any more about how they work than he does.”
“I just thought I’d better warn you. If I was you, I’d tell Grandma he’s on his way. He’s a slippery character, but if anyone can handle him, Grandma probably can.”
***
“That cat of yours is at it again,” Mrs V said. “There’s a lot of meowing coming from in there.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get it sorted.”
When I opened the door to my office, I couldn’t believe my eyes. There was a long line of cats snaking around the room. They were all queuing to go into a small tent which had been erected just in front of my desk. On the front of the tent was a sign which read:
‘Your fortune told by Madam Winkesca. Ten pounds a time’.
Madam Winkesca? I’d give him Madam Winkesca.