by Adele Abbott
We Witch You
A Merry Christmas
A Short Story
Published by Implode Publishing Ltd
© Implode Publishing Ltd 2015
The right of Adele Abbott to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved, worldwide. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, dead or alive, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
A brief message from Winky
Chapter 1
“Go away!” I yelled. “Leave me alone!”
“But, I thought I was your favourite,” it said. “You’ve always said so.”
It was true, custard creams were my favourite biscuit, but that didn’t mean I wanted to go out with a giant one, which had arms, legs and a face. Although, it was surprisingly handsome—for a biscuit.
“My name is Ralph.” The biscuit offered its hand.
“I don’t care what your name is. I’m not going out with you. Get away! Get away!”
“Jill! Jill! Wake up! Jill!”
Kathy looked concerned. “I only nipped out to the shops to get your stupid biscuits. How did you manage to fall asleep in the meantime?”
I was still trying to get my bearings. I’d called in at Kathy’s for a cup of tea, and thrown a mini strop because she’d run out of custard creams. To shut me up, she’d popped out to the local store to buy some, and I must have fallen asleep.
“It sounded like you were having a nightmare,” she said, switching on the kettle.
“I was. It was horrible.”
“What was it about?”
“There was this—err—giant—err—I can’t remember.”
Kathy was already convinced I had some kind of unnatural custard cream fetish—no point in giving her more ammunition.
“There you go.” She passed me the cup of tea. “And, here’s your precious biscuits.” Kathy offered me the packet of custard creams.
“Err—no thanks. I think I’ll have a chocolate digestive instead.”
My name is Jill Gooder, and I’m a P.I. My life had become much more complicated when I’d discovered that I was a witch. I wasn’t allowed to tell any human about the whole witch thing, and that included my adoptive sister, Kathy.
I’d decided to treat myself to a few days’ holiday leading up to Christmas. At least, that was my story. It might also have had something to do with the fact that I had no cases to work on. I’d told Mrs V, my PA/receptionist and knitter extraordinaire, that she should take some time off, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Instead, she was manning the office just in case Santa turned up and wanted me to find his missing reindeer.
“Are you absolutely sure?” Kathy was giving me earache about something else. Nagging me seemed to be her favourite pastime.
“Positive.” I reassured her.
“What are you positive about?”
“About the thing you were nagging—err—asking me about.”
“And that thing was?”
“You know. The thing.”
“You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve said, have you?”
“I’m still in shock from the nightmare.”
“Listen up. This is important. Did you buy the Total Dream Office for Lizzie for Christmas like you promised you would?”
Lizzie was my niece. Kathy had two kids: Lizzie and Mikey. I had a vague memory of Kathy saying something about which presents I should buy for them. It hadn’t really been top of my list of priorities at the time. I was a busy woman: Places to go, people to meet. Anyway, why all the fuss about a silly present? I’d get around to it eventually.
“It’s all in hand,” I lied. “All bought and paid for.”
“It had better be. Those things are like gold dust.”
Yeah. Yeah. “Stop worrying. Your favourite sister has it in hand.”
“Okay, but I’m trusting you. Don’t let me down.” Kathy took a bite of one of my custard creams. “Are we agreed on what we’re doing over Christmas?” she said, through a mouthful of biscuit.
“Yep. All agreed. I have to come to you on Christmas Eve because you don’t want to see your only sister on Christmas Day.”
“That’s not how it is.”
It was way too easy to wind Kathy up.
“I’ve already explained.” She sighed. “We’ve promised to go to Pete’s mother’s on Christmas Day. She said you can come too.”
I’d rather chew glass with a topping of mustard.
“It’s okay.” I pouted. “I wouldn’t want to spoil your Christmas dinner. Anyway, I hear the soup is really good at the homeless shelter.”
She gave me a look.
“I’m only kidding. I’ll be fine. Anyway, when does Peter break up for the holiday?”
“Don’t ask. He’s going away on a three-day course on tree maintenance.”
“I didn’t realise you had to maintain trees.” I grinned. “You mean oil them and stuff?”
Kathy rolled her eyes at my stupid remark. “The course finishes on Christmas Eve, so muggins here has got to see to all the preparations by herself. Pete makes out he doesn’t want to go, but I reckon he’s looking forward to a few days away from me and the kids. Just him and the mini-bar.”
“I could help you with the Christmas preparations.”
She laughed. “Good joke.”
“What’s funny? I’m sure I could do something.”
“No offence, Jill, but I’ve seen your idea of helping before. I’ll be okay. Just get yourself around here on Christmas Eve evening. Pete should be back by then.”
“Oh well. Don’t say I didn’t offer. Are the kids getting excited?”
I could still remember how I’d been as a kid on the run up to Christmas. Every day had seemed to last an eternity.
“Yeah. They’re really excited about the presents, but—” She hesitated.
“What?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Come on. Something’s up. I can tell.”
“It’s just Mikey. One of the kids in his class told him that Santa isn’t real. I tried to convince him otherwise, but he’s having none of it. I’d kind of hoped he might believe in Santa for a few more years. I guess I’m just being daft.”
“What about Lizzie?”
“She still believes in him. I just hope Mikey doesn’t say anything to upset her.”
***
After I left Kathy’s, I called in at the office. It just didn’t feel right for Mrs V to be working when I was on holiday. Of course, when I say working—Mrs V actually spent most of her day knitting.
“Morning, Mrs V. Any messages?”
“Morning, Jill. Nothing at all. No visitors. No phone calls.”
I was destined to always be broke.
“Oh wait. I tell a lie,” she said. “There was one visitor.”
“Really?” Hope sprang eternal.
“The landlord popped in to tell you the rent will be going up from March next year.”
“Great.”
“He did wish us a Merry Christmas though.”
“I don’
t know why you don’t get off home, Mrs V. It’s not like anything is likely to happen here.”
“I’d rather stay here, dear. Saves me using my heating. And besides, I’ve got a project on.”
“What kind of project?”
“I’ve had a request to knit one hundred socks for the local children’s home.”
“You mean one hundred pairs?”
“No. Just one hundred individual socks. They’re for the kids to hang up on Christmas Eve.”
“How are you ever going to make that many?”
Mrs V was the queen of knitting, but I doubted that even she could manage to make so many in the time remaining.
“It’s all in hand. I’ve called in a few favours from my yarnies.”
Yarnies was a kind of ‘street’ term for Mrs V’s knitting colleagues.
“Okay. Well good luck with it.” I glanced at my office. “Have you had any trouble from you-know-who?” I gestured towards the door.
“No more than usual. If I’m even five minutes late with his food, he meows the place down. You should give him to someone as a Christmas present.”
I was pretty certain that no one would thank me for giving them Winky, my one-eyed, psycho cat. I’d adopted him from the cat home. At least, that was my version of events. According to him, he’d chosen me—something for which I should be eternally grateful. Either way, we were stuck with one another. Ever since I’d inherited my ‘witch’ powers, he’d been able to talk to me. I guess everything has its downside.
“Morning, Winky,” I said, expecting the usual mixture of complaints and abuse.
He didn’t even look up. He was sitting on the sofa with a pile of envelopes on either side of him. Bless—he was writing his Christmas cards.
How come my cat—who never set foot outside my office—had such a huge Christmas card list? I’d only bought a pack of ten cards, and I’d still ended up with three spare. I could only assume the cards were for the cats he’d ‘met’ on the social network site: FelineSocial.com. Ever since Winky’s would-be girlfriend, Bella, the feline supermodel, had sent him a smartphone, he was always online.
I had no cases to work on, so there wasn’t much point in my hanging around the office. The cat was busy writing his cards and my receptionist had more than enough knitting to keep her occupied. A quick visit to Candlefield was called for.
Since discovering I was a witch, I’d divided my time between Washbridge in the human world, and Candlefield, which was home to all manner of supernatural beings (sups for short).
***
Snow! I hadn’t expected that when I magicked myself there. It came halfway up my calves. I was hardly dressed for it, in heels, a skirt and a blouse.
“Aren’t you cold?” Grandma said. The woman had an annoying habit of turning up at just the wrong moment.
“I wasn’t expecting snow.”
“Clearly.” She cackled. “You’re going to get frost bite.”
“Can you help me?”
“I could.”
“Will you?”
“What’s in it for me?”
“What about the spirit of Christmas?”
“You mean Whisky? Yes, I suppose I might be bribed—”
“No, I meant spirit as in being nice.”
“Nah, I’d prefer Whisky.”
I began to shiver uncontrollably.
“I tell you what,” she said. “I'll get you out of there, and kit you out in winter gear if you agree to do me one favour in return.”
“What?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ll let you know when I decide.”
That sounded like a recipe for disaster. There had to be another way for me to get out. I didn’t need Grandma. I could use magic to levitate out of the snow. I’d show her.
I closed my eyes and focussed on the spell. Nothing! I tried again. Still nothing.
Grandma had an evil look on her face—she was doing something to block my magic.
“What are you doing?” I yelled at her. “Why won’t my spells work?”
“Me? I’m just standing here, minding my own business.”
I tried again. It was hopeless. I had no other option but to accept her offer of help.
“Okay, okay. I agree. I’ll owe you one favour. Now will you help me, please?”
“With a snap of her fingers, I was free, and dressed in clothing suitable for a Polar expedition. Every part of me was snuggly warm. But at what price I wondered? Grandma gave an extra evil cackle as she disappeared.
“Jill, you look like an Eskimo.” Amber was behind the counter in Cuppy C.
“Help me out of this will you?” I said. “I’m cooking inside here.”
“I like your boots. Where did you get them?”
“Grandma gave me all this gear.”
“Grandma?” Amber couldn’t have looked any more surprised if I’d told her that it had fallen out of the sky.
“Well not gave exactly. I had to promise to do her a favour in return.”
“You didn’t agree, did you? Please tell me you didn’t.”
“What choice did I have? It was that or get frost bite.”
“Frost bite would have been better. Trust me.”
What had I done?
Chapter 2
Cuppy C was almost deserted.
“It’s been like this ever since it started to snow,” Amber said, as she joined me at a window table.
“Where’s Pearl?”
Amber and Pearl were my twin cousins. The two of them ran Cuppy C, a cake shop and tea room. The only time they weren’t squabbling was when they were asleep.
“She’s Christmas shopping.”
“In this weather?”
“Nothing gets between Pearl and a shopping expedition.” Amber took a sip of coffee. “Same for me, I guess. We agreed to have one day off each. It’s my turn tomorrow. I hope the weather has improved by then.”
“It looks unlikely. Do you still have much to get?”
“Not really. Just a few last minute presents. I did my main Christmas shop last week. I’ve got a fantastic present for Mum. She’ll love it.”
“I had planned to go and see Aunt Lucy later, but I’m not sure I’ll bother in this.”
Outside, the snow had begun to fall again.
“Probably just as well. She’s stressed to the max.”
“Why?”
“About Christmas dinner. It’s all Grandma’s fault.”
“I might have guessed. Has she been criticising your mum’s cooking again?” That was one of grandma’s favourite pastimes.
“Not exactly, but she says Mum should use magic to make the Christmas dinner, and Mum insists she wants to do it the traditional way.”
Although I wouldn’t admit it, I was with Grandma on this one. Why spend all that time and energy on making dinner when you could simply cast a spell? Seemed like a no-brainer to me.
“So is Aunt Lucy sticking to her guns?”
“So far, but Grandma is like a dog with a bone.”
“What was that?” I almost jumped out of my skin when something thudded against the window.
“It’s Miles!” Amber snarled. “I’m going to kill him.”
Miles Best had been at school with the twins. Back then, they’d both had a crush on him, but the years had not been kind to him. He and his girlfriend, Mindy, had opened up a competing cake shop, Best Cakes, directly across the road from Cuppy C.
“What’s he playing at?” I said, as another snowball hit the window.
“I don’t know.” Amber’s face was red with rage. “But, I’m going to teach him a lesson.”
“Wait! Do you think that’s a good idea?”
It was too late. She’d already grabbed her coat and boots, and was headed for the door. If I’m honest, I would rather have remained a spectator, but when I saw Mindy join Miles, I knew I had to help Amber.
“This is silly,” I shouted. “Can’t we all just be adults? Ouch!” The snowball caught me on my shoulder.
Miles was grinning all over his face. Right, this was war.
I probably shouldn’t have used the ‘power’ spell for something so puerile, but hey, all’s fair in love and snowball fights. I caught Miles in the midriff with a power snowball. Amber took one on the arm.
The snowballs were flying back and forth across the deserted street, and there was no sign of either side backing down.
Just then, Grandma poked her head out of Cuppy C. “Is there any danger of getting served in here?”
A snowball caught her square on the nose.
It was as if time stood still. All four of us stared at Grandma—the throbbing wart on her nose was mesmerising. The only sound to be heard was me trying desperately to suppress a laugh.
If there’s one thing I admire about Grandma, it’s her magic skillz. She makes it all look so effortless. If I hadn’t known she was responsible, I would have thought that the avalanche which engulfed Best Cakes had been an act of nature.
Miles and Mindy were buried up to their waists in snow. Amber broke the silence.
“Need a hand, Miles?”
“Yes. Get me out!”
“Sorry, too busy.”
Amber and I couldn’t stop laughing as we returned to our coffee and cup-cakes. We spent the next hour watching Miles and his girlfriend digging themselves and their shop out.
“We shouldn’t laugh.” I laughed.
“That must be hard work.” Amber giggled.
Just then, the door flew open.
“Give me a hand, you two!” Pearl shouted. She was weighed down with bags.
We took some of them from her as she shook the snow from her hair.
“What happened across the road?” Pearl made herself a coffee, and joined us at the window table.
“Grandma happened.” Amber grinned.
“Miles must have done something really bad to make her so mad.”
Amber looked around to make sure it was safe to talk. “It was so funny,” she said. “He hit her right on the end of her nose with a snowball.”
Amber’s laugh was cut short when a huge lump of snow appeared from nowhere, and dropped onto her head.