by Adele Abbott
“That’s a pretty impressive record. I’d assumed you’d get a lot of injuries in this game.”
“I don’t take learners, and that’s where most of the injuries occur. Everyone who jumps with me is an experienced skydiver. Much less hassle that way.”
“Can you tell me what you remember about that day?”
“There was nothing out of the ordinary. The two customers knew what they were doing.”
“They’d jumped with you before?”
“Actually, no. From what I understood, they had a friend with his own plane based at Washbridge North Airfield.”
“Why did they come to you that day?”
“Apparently, their regular ride was in for repair.”
“So, you’d never met Dale Thomas or his wife before then?”
“No, but they obviously knew what they were doing. When you’ve been in the game as long as I have, you can tell within five minutes of meeting someone.”
“Do you have any theories about what might have gone wrong?”
“I understand the police think he may have blacked out?”
I nodded. “Or that it was suicide.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Why’s that?”
“The man, Dale, was in a great mood—laughing and joking. He didn’t strike me as a man who was about to commit suicide. A blackout seems the most likely explanation.”
“Is there any possibility it could have been equipment failure?”
“Zero. I insist on double-checking the parachutes myself. Some of the old hands don’t appreciate me doing it, but I tell ‘em: Either I check your parachute or you don’t jump with me. The guy’s parachute was A-OK when he got on the plane. Isn’t that what the police report said?”
“Yeah. They said the parachute was fine, but that the cord hadn’t been pulled.”
“He must have blacked out then. Poor guy. I feel for his missus too. It must have been horrible for her to see him plunge to his death.”
“Did you see it?”
“No. I’m always long gone by the time they pull their cords. First I knew about it was when I heard the ambulance siren.”
***
It was some time since I’d had the dubious pleasure of talking to Miles Best, and even longer since I’d been inside Best Cakes. The Ice Maidens were nowhere to be seen—neither were Miles or his girlfriend, Mindy.
“What can I get for you?” The young woman behind the counter was wearing an eye patch. Having seen Winky wear a wide variety of eye patches, I found this one to be quite plain by comparison. I considered telling her where she could find a better selection, but decided to mind my own business.
What do you mean, that must be a first?
“Are Flora and Laura in today?”
“No, sorry. It’s their day off. I’m Nora. Can I help?”
Flora, Laura and now Nora? What was this? Rhyming dictionary corner?
“What about Miles or Mindy? Are they in?”
Before she could reply, Miles appeared from a door behind the counter. Mindy was by his side. “Hello, Jill. We don’t see you in here very often. Are you after a better class of muffin? I believe you’re partial to blueberry.”
“I’m not here for a muffin.”
“A cupcake, then?”
“I don’t want anything to eat or drink. I came to see the Ice Maidens.”
“Who?”
“Flora and Laura.”
“You’re out of luck, I’m afraid. It’s their day off. Is there something I can help you with?”
“You can tell them that if they put up any more posters of me, they’ll regret it.”
“You seem rather upset. Are you sure you wouldn’t like a cup of tea? How about camomile? It might soothe your nerves.”
“My nerves are perfectly fine, thank you. I just want to know what you think you’re playing at with those posters? I know you’re behind it.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Look, I can see you’re upset. Is all the TV exposure getting to you? I can see how it might.”
“What’s your game, Miles?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Let me spell this out for you. If I find one more poster of me in Washbridge, I’ll be back.”
“What were you doing across the road, Jill?” Amber was behind the tea room counter in Cuppy C. Pearl was nowhere to be seen.
“Just having a quiet word with Miles.”
“What’s he done now?”
“Nothing worth worrying about. Where’s Pearl?”
“Shopping for clothes for London. We tossed a coin, and she won. I get to go tomorrow. Have you bought yours yet?”
“Me? No. I hadn’t planned on getting anything new.”
“Your wardrobe could do with refreshing.”
“Thanks.”
“Sorry, but it’s true. We don’t want you to show us up.”
“Could I get a top-up?” someone shouted from one of the window tables. It was the snake oil salesman.
“That’s the seventh top-up he’s had,” Amber whispered.
“He’s having a laugh. Why don’t you tell him he has to pay?”
“I don’t like to.” Amber collected his cup, topped it up, and took it back to him.
“Young lady!” he called.
“He’s talking to you.” Amber nudged me.
“Would you care to join me?” He smiled a particularly untrustworthy smile.
“Sorry, but there’s somewhere I have to be.”
“It will only take a minute.”
“Okay.” If he tried to sell me his snake oil, he’d be sorry.
“I’m Talbot.” He took my hand and planted a kiss on it. Yuk!
“Is that your first name or last name?”
“It’s my only name. My mother insisted one name was enough for anyone. Can I get you a drink?”
“No, thanks. Like I said, I can’t stay long.”
“I believe your name is Jill?”
I nodded.
“I saw the Candle TV programme where they talked about you.”
“You and everyone else, apparently.”
“I may be able to help.”
“Who says I need help?”
“Maybe you do. Maybe you don’t. Tell me, what do you know about snake oil?”
Here we go. “That I’m not going to pay good money for it.”
He laughed. “Your view is jaundiced by your experience in the human world. Snake oil has a bad rap over there. The oil from snakes here in the sup world is a completely different proposition.”
“Of course it is.”
“I can see you’re sceptical.”
“Like I said, I don’t have much time.”
“There are hundreds of different kinds of snakes in the sup world.”
“I haven’t seen any so far.”
“You’re unlikely to around here. They’re found in the unpopulated regions—around CASS for example.”
“You’ve been to CASS?”
“No, but I have my sources in that region. Anyway, as I was saying, there are numerous breeds of snake. The oil from each one has its own particular properties.”
“That’s really fascinating, but—”
“One in particular should be of interest to you.”
“I seriously doubt that.” I stood up. There was no way I was buying snake oil from this guy. Can you imagine how much grief I would have got from the twins if I had?
“The redsnap snake,” he called after me. “It’ll help with your memory.”
Cheek of the man! There was nothing wrong with my memory.
***
That evening when I arrived at Kathy’s, she came to the door barefoot, with her trousers rolled up to her knees.
“That’s quite the look.” I laughed. “Have you been for a paddle?”
“I’m glad you think it’s funny. And yes, I have. The stupid washing machine decided to leak all over the kitchen floor. Of cours
e, it waited until Pete had gone out, so muggins here had to sort it out by herself.”
“What about the kids?”
“They were already at Pete’s Mum’s, thank goodness.”
“I thought you’d only recently bought a new washing machine?”
“We have. It was only delivered four days ago. I shall be giving them a piece of my mind, in the morning. Why don’t you get the wine out of the fridge while I go upstairs and get changed?”
“Isn’t it still wet in the kitchen?”
“No. I’ve mopped it all up. I’ll only be a minute.”
Poor old Kathy.
The washing machine door was still wide open, and even I could see that the door seal looked as though it had perished. I made a mental note of the manufacturer’s name: Elf Washing Machines. I’d be sure to avoid them the next time I needed a new one.
“What’s Jack doing?” Kathy had changed, and joined me in the lounge.
“He’s gone bowling with Trevor—one of his friends from work.”
“I need this.” She took a drink of wine. “I’ve had a lousy day.”
“With the washing machine, you mean?”
“Not just that. Pete thought he’d landed a massive new contract, but then he got a call today to say they’re going to look at another bid before deciding. It’s for Washbridge House.”
“Oh dear.”
“What?”
“I think I might know who the other bidder is.”
“Who?”
“Megan.”
“How can she take on a contract of that size? It’s big even for Pete, and he already has plenty of contacts who he can bring in.”
“Apparently, she used to date the owner’s son.”
“Well that’s just great! That woman will be the death of me.”
It was just as well I’d travelled to Kathy’s by taxi because two hours later, we were both well oiled.
“Do you remember when we used to collect Miss Makeup stickers?” Kathy laughed.
“I never collected Miss Makeup stickers.”
“We both did.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You had the one I needed to give me the complete set, but you wouldn’t swap with me. Meanie!”
“That doesn’t sound like me at all.”
“You said you’d only let me have it if I gave you my beanies.”
“If that is true, and I’m not saying it is, then I was only doing it to rescue those poor beanies from your clutches. You never did know how to look after them.”
Kathy suddenly started to laugh uncontrollably.
“What’s tickling you now?”
“I just remembered your penfriend. What was her name?”
“Rosy Glass.”
“What a nutter.”
“Rosy wasn’t a nutter. She was nice.”
“She used to collect ships in bottles.”
“She sent me photos of them. They were nice.” I laughed. “Stick insects too.”
“What?”
“She used to keep stick insects.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“I wonder what she’s doing now.”
“Wake up you two!”
I forced one eye open. Kathy was still asleep, with her head on my lap.
“Peter?” I managed through dry lips.
“Looks like you two have had a good time.” He glanced at the empty bottle.
“Kathy!” I nudged her. “Wake up. Peter’s home.”
“Pete!” She sat up. “My handsome hunk. Give me a kiss.”
“You’re drunk, Kathy.” He shook his head.
“No, I’m not.” She hiccupped. “I know something you don’t.”
“What’s that?”
“Little Miss Meggy Megs has bid for the Washbridge House job.”
Peter turned to me. “Is that true?”
I nodded. “Seems she used to date the owner’s son.”
“And the washing machine’s bust.” Kathy stood up. “I’m going to bed.”
“I’ll call a taxi.” I picked up my phone.
“It’s okay, Jill,” Peter said. “I’ll give you a lift. I haven’t had a drink.”
Chapter 6
Never again! The next morning, my head felt like it was full of little men, all operating pneumatic drills.
“Full English?” Jack said when I eventually made it into the kitchen.
I was onto him; he never offered to make a fry-up during the week. He was only doing it because he knew I wouldn’t be able to face it.
“No, thanks.”
“How was Kathy?”
“Up to her ankles in water. Her new washing machine had sprung a leak.”
“Oh dear. I don’t imagine she was in a very good mood, then?”
“She wasn’t best pleased. And you can just imagine how she reacted when I told her about Megan.”
“I bet that went down well. What else did you two talk about all evening?”
“Oh, you know. This and that. Mainly ships in bottles and stick insects.”
“Is that code for ‘mind your own business’? “
“No. We got talking about a pen friend I had when I was a kid. She used to collect ships in bottles, and keep stick insects.”
“She sounds even weirder than you, and I didn’t think that was possible.” He grinned.
“If I didn’t have such a hangover, I’d thump you for that.”
“By the way, I’ve found a new cleaner. Someone saw the ad that I’d posted in the corner shop, and phoned yesterday. She came around last night before I went bowling. She seems ideal, and has a much pleasanter disposition than Mrs Mopp.”
“That wouldn’t be difficult. What’s her name?”
“Agatha.”
“Agatha what?”
“Just Agatha.”
“She must have another name.”
“You’ll make fun of it.”
“When did I ever make fun of someone’s name?”
“Her other name is Crustie.”
“Agatha Crustie?” I dissolved into laughter.
“See! That’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”
“Sorry.” I could barely breathe; I was laughing so much.
“Don’t you dare take the mickey out of her name when she’s here. We don’t want to lose another cleaner.”
“But, it’s Agatha Crustie!” My sides were hurting from laughing.
“Jill! You have to promise me.”
“Okay, I promise.” I wiped the tears from my eyes. “Agatha Crustie.”
“The house seems empty without Barry.” Jack sighed.
“It’s no good feeling guilty now. You were the one who wanted to throw him out onto the streets.”
“Thanks for not making me feel bad about it.”
“I’m only joking. Barry will be much happier where he is. There’s a park close by, and he’ll have someone with him all day.”
“You never actually said where you were taking him.”
Whoops!
“It’s just the other side of thingamabob. You know, near to whatdoyoucallit.” I glanced at my watch. “Is that the time? I have to rush. I’ve got a meeting with whatshisname. See you, tonight.”
That was another close call. It was getting more and more difficult to remember what I could and couldn’t tell Jack. I could hardly have said: Barry? Oh, I magicked him back to the sup world.
If nothing else, all that laughing at our new cleaner’s name had got rid of my headache. Who knew that laughter was a cure for a hangover?
“Jill!” Mrs Rollo shouted. She was standing next to a thickset man who had grey hair and a black beard.
“Morning, Mrs Rollo.”
“Jill, this is my brother, Marco.”
Do not laugh at his name, Jill. You mustn’t laugh.
I laughed.
Both Mrs Rollo and her brother gave me a puzzled look.
“Sorry, I was just thinking about something Jack said.”
&
nbsp; “Hi.” The man offered his hand. “Marco Rollo. Pleased to meet you.”
I laughed again. “Sorry. Jack can be such a comedian. Nice to meet you—err—Marco.”
“You too, Jill. Rita has told me a lot about you. She’s lucky to have such a considerate neighbour. But then, I guess you must feel blessed to live next door to such a talented baker. I bet she keeps you stocked up with cakes, doesn’t she?”
“She certainly does.” Our bin is always full of them. “Mrs Rollo said you lived in Australia?”
“That’s right. One heck of a journey it is too. Still, it’s worth it to see Rita.” He put his arm around his sister.
“That’s not the only reason he came over, though,” Mrs Rollo said. “Is it Marco? Tell Jill why you’re here.”
“Without wishing to blow my own trumpet, I’m something of a leading light in the paranormal activity scene in Australia.”
“Ghosts and stuff?”
“Among other things. Anyway, I’ve been invited to give a number of presentations around the UK. One of them is right here in Washbridge at PAW—you may have heard of it.”
“I don’t think so.”
“It stands for Paranormal Activity Watch.”
“I had no idea there was such a thing hereabouts.”
“You might be surprised to hear that there are more reports of paranormal activity here in Washbridge than in any other town or city in the UK.”
Not as surprised as you might think. “Really? That’s unbelievable.”
“I know,” Mrs Rollo said. “Marco reckons we might even have witches and wizards living among us here in Smallwash. It’s a bit spooky, isn’t it?”
“Okay, you got me.” I held up my hands. “I’m really a witch.”
They both laughed.
Snigger.
***
I’d arranged to meet with Lesley Thomas, the widow of the dead skydiver, but I had a little time to kill before then, so thought I’d take a quick look at Magical Skincare who had one of the smaller units on the Speedlink Industrial Estate. I wanted to try to find out what had caused Gilbert’s recent personality change, and this seemed as good a place as any to start.
I stood behind a low wall, across the road from the unit, from where I had a good view of all the comings and goings. Ten minutes after I arrived, a young woman appeared. To gain entry to the building, she had to enter a PIN into the number pad next to the door. At first, I thought it was one of the promotional staff I’d seen working alongside Gilbert at Central Mall, but then I realised it couldn’t be. This poor young woman had terrible acne. There was no way she would have been put forward as one of the faces of Magical Skincare. A few minutes later, a young man arrived—he too had a severe case of acne. Next to arrive was Gilbert. He had the same ‘out-to-lunch’ expression as he’d had at the mall. But that wasn’t what caught my eye. Gilbert’s acne was back with a vengeance. It was every bit as bad as when Jules had first dated him. How could that be? Only a few days earlier, his complexion had been flawless.