We Witch You A Merry Christmas - A Short Story

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We Witch You A Merry Christmas - A Short Story Page 2

by Adele Abbott


  Pearl and I screamed with laughter.

  While Amber was drying her hair, Pearl whispered, “I’ve got the best ever present for Mum.”

  “What is it?”

  “I can’t tell you. I want it to be a surprise.”

  “I won’t tell her.”

  “Sorry, it’s top secret.”

  “Where’s Barry,” I shouted downstairs. Barry was my adorable, if a bit dim, labradoodle. He normally came running to greet me whenever I went up to my room above Cuppy C.

  “He’s under your bed,” Pearl shouted from the bottom of the stairs. “He’s scared of the snow.”

  “I thought dogs were meant to love snow?”

  “Not this one. We’ve tried to take him a walk a couple of times, but he wouldn’t set foot on it. We had to clear a small area around the back so he could go out and do his business.”

  I got down on all fours, and looked under the bed.

  “Barry? What are you doing there?”

  “Don’t like the white.”

  “It’s only snow.”

  “Don’t like it.”

  “It’s just rain, but colder.”

  “It’s white.”

  “It can’t hurt you.”

  “Don’t like it.”

  “We could go to the park.”

  Barry loved the park more than anything except dog biscuits, and even then it was a close call.

  “Is it white there?”

  “There’s snow everywhere.”

  “Don’t like it.”

  I could see I was fighting a losing battle.

  “Any luck?” Amber asked when I went back down to the shop.

  “He won’t budge. How can a dog be scared of snow?”

  “Barry’s scared of his own shadow. He’s a big wuss.”

  Maybe, but he was my big wuss, and I didn’t like to see him so upset. I’d have to figure out a way of helping him to overcome his ‘white’ phobia.

  “You’re coming over for Christmas dinner aren’t you, Jill?” Pearl was cashing up for the day. They had given up hope of seeing any more customers.

  “Try stopping me. I wouldn’t miss Aunt Lucy’s Christmas dinner for anything.”

  “What about your sister? Doesn’t she want you to go to her place?”

  “I’m going to Kathy’s on Christmas Eve. They’re going to Peter’s mother’s on Christmas Day.”

  “I love Christmas at Mum’s,” Pearl said. “Except for one thing.” She glanced all around her.

  We knew what she was thinking, but after what had just happened to Amber, none of us were going to say the word aloud. I had no doubt Grandma would be there on Christmas Day, and would do her best to put a damper on celebrations, but I was determined I wouldn’t let her spoil it for me.

  “Are you going to bring Drake?” Amber said.

  “I doubt it. He probably has his own family stuff to do.”

  “But you two are okay, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah. We’re just friends, I guess.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Looks that way.”

  I didn’t really know where I stood with Drake. He was a wizard who I’d met while walking Barry. We’d hit it off straight away, and we’d been out a couple of times—not exactly dates, but close.

  ***

  That evening, I was back in Washbridge, and a little overdressed. I was still sporting the outfit which Grandma had magicked up for me. Problem was, there was zero snow. In fact, it was quite mild for the time of year. As I made my way back home, I drew a few strange looks from people wondering why an Eskimo was on the streets of Washbridge.

  As I walked past the shop which was close to my block of flats, I noticed they had mistletoe for sale, and I had a brilliant idea.

  Luther Stone’s flat was on the floor above mine. He was my accountant—I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. He wasn’t your run of the mill accountant—Luther was scorching hot. So, I got to thinking: what if someone was to hang mistletoe outside the door to my flat. And, what if I happened to step out of my door just as Luther was walking by? What do you mean it smacked of desperation? It was tradition, and I’m nothing if not a traditionalist.

  I grabbed a stool from the kitchen, and quickly checked the corridor to make sure the coast was clear.

  After hanging the mistletoe, I went back into my flat and waited. Luther had a habit of singing to himself, and wouldn’t you know it, that man could carry a tune. Just then, I heard him coming—this was my big chance. Nonchalant was the name of the game. I’d open the door, see Luther, and then look surprised at the mistletoe above our heads. What could possibly go wrong?

  Betty?

  Betty Longbottom, another one of my neighbours, was standing directly in front of me; she was staring at Luther who had just noticed the mistletoe.

  No! That was my mistletoe!

  “Hello, Betty.” Luther smouldered. “Looks like you’ve caught me under the mistletoe.”

  Betty glanced up, and had the audacity to pretend she hadn’t realised.

  What an actress! She knew exactly what she was doing. Stealing my mistletoe kiss—that’s what she was doing. The harlot! The hussy!

  Luther planted a kiss on Betty’s lips. Her cheeks lit up and I thought she was going to faint.

  “Hi, Jill,” Luther said, as he went on his way.

  Hi? Is that all I get? What about my kiss under my mistletoe?

  Betty seemed to recover, and for the first time noticed I was standing there.

  “Oh, hello, Jill.”

  I didn’t speak. Instead, I went back into my flat, and slammed the door closed. Not that I was bitter or anything.

  Chapter 3

  I’d never understood why people bought Christmas presents so early in the year. Kathy usually started sometime in August. Me? I didn’t give it a thought until well into December, but I always got the job done. It was all about planning and organisation.

  The shop assistant laughed in my face. How unprofessional.

  “Total Dream Office?” She managed through fits of laughter.

  I had no idea why she should find that so funny. “Yes. Could you gift wrap it for me, please?”

  “Gift wrap it?” She dissolved into laughter again.

  I wasn’t the vindictive sort, but I was seriously considering reporting her to the store manager. This simply wasn’t acceptable.

  “I’m sorry.” She wiped tears from her eyes. She didn’t look very sorry.

  “I am in rather a hurry,” I said.

  “We haven’t had a Total Dream Office for over a week.”

  “When will you be getting more in?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine, but not this side of Christmas.”

  How annoying. I’d chosen this shop because it was en-route to the office. I’d planned to call in on Mrs V to make sure she was okay.

  “Where’s the nearest shop I can buy one?”

  “You won’t find one. It’s one of this year’s bestsellers. I bought one for my niece a few weeks ago. No one has any stock left.”

  Oh no. Oh no, no, no. I’d told Kathy I’d already bought one.

  “What about online?”

  “Same.” She shrugged.

  “What about the auction web sites? Someone must be selling them on.”

  “Possibly. Last I heard, they were asking ten times the list price, and I believe some of them are counterfeit.”

  “Ten times the list price?” The stupid thing was already a ludicrous price. “Do you have anything which is like it?”

  “Not really. It’s kind of a one-off.”

  I was dead. Kathy would tear open my chest and rip out my heart. Literally.

  Breathe, Jill—I mustn’t panic. There was still time, and while there was time, there was hope.

  I hoped.

  As I climbed the stairs, I could hear numerous voices. The outer office was full of women—plus a solitary man; they were all knitting. I managed to weave my way through to
Mrs V.

  “Morning, Jill. You don’t mind if I knit while we talk do you? We’re up against a deadline here.”

  “Sure. Carry on. I was just surprised to find so many people in the office.”

  “I told you I was going to get my yarnies to help with the children’s home project.”

  “You did. I just hadn’t realised that they were all going to come into the office.”

  “I figured it would be better this way. We can encourage one another.” She looked up from the knitting. “Ladies, this is Jill Gooder, my boss.”

  Someone coughed.

  “Sorry Cecil. I forgot you’d joined us today. I should have said, Ladies and Gentleman. This is Jill.”

  I managed a smile.

  “Jill has kindly allowed us to use the office for our project.”

  “Well, it is for a good cause.” I felt obliged to say something. “I wish you all well with your knitting.”

  Just then, Kathy appeared in the doorway. She saw all the yarnies, and gave me a puzzled look. Rather than try to explain, I beckoned her to follow me through to my office.

  “What’s going on out there?” She said, once I’d closed the door.

  “Never mind about all that!” Winky said, as he jumped onto my desk. “I haven’t been fed yet.”

  Fortunately, all Kathy could hear was a series of meows.

  “I’ll have to feed him or we’ll never get any peace.”

  “I don’t understand why you keep that stupid cat. He can’t be good for business.”

  “Who does she think she is?” Winky said while gobbling his food. “I’ve a good mind to sharpen my claws on her fat legs.”

  “Don’t you dare!”

  “Dare what?” Kathy looked at me as though I’d lost my mind—again.

  “Err—nothing—it was the cat—I thought he was going to—err—never mind.”

  I glanced down at her legs—maybe she had put on a little weight?

  “Why are you staring at my legs?”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “Do you think they’re getting fat?”

  “Fat? No, of course not.”

  “They’re like tree trunks!” Winky shouted, as he started on his full-cream milk.

  “So what’s going on out there?” Kathy said. “Is business so bad that you’ve started hiring out the room?”

  “No.” Although that might not be such a bad idea. “They’re just Mrs V’s yarnies.”

  “Yarnies?”

  “Come on, Kathy. You’ve got to get down with the street talk. They’re her friends from the knitting club. Mrs V has promised to knit a hundred socks for the children’s home for Christmas.”

  “A hundred pairs?”

  “No. A hundred single socks apparently. They’re for the kids to hang up on Christmas Eve.”

  “It’s a good cause, I guess, but isn’t it interfering with your business? What do your clients make of it?”

  What clients?

  “It’s okay. I’ve decided to take a few days off. I just popped in to check on Mrs V, and to feed the cat. What brings you here, anyway?”

  “Your grandmother asked me to come over to tell you and Mrs V about the Christmas party at Ever. You’re both invited.”

  ‘Ever’ was short for Ever A Wool Moment which was Grandma’s wool emporium.

  “When is it?”

  “The day before Christmas Eve. Lunch time onwards.”

  “I guess I’ll be there then. It’s not like I have a choice.” I sighed. “Are the kids getting excited about the big day?”

  “Lizzie is beside herself. She keeps asking how many minutes there are left.”

  “I imagine she’ll be getting tons of presents.”

  “Probably, but there’s only one she’s really bothered about.”

  Oh no!

  “She never stops talking about it.”

  Oh no!

  “I don’t see what all the fuss is about, but all the other girls in her class are getting one too.”

  Oh no!

  “It’s a good job you bought it when you did because you can’t get Total Dream Office now for love nor money.”

  “Yeah—good job I did.”

  I should have owned up right there and then, but I was too much of a coward.

  “I can’t wait to see her face when she opens it.” Kathy smiled.

  I was so dead.

  “I’m a bit upset with Mikey though.” Her smile faded.

  “What’s he done?”

  “He told Lizzie that Santa wasn’t real.”

  “Did she get upset?”

  “No. Lizzie told him he didn’t know what he was talking about, and that he wouldn’t be getting any toys for being naughty.”

  “Good for Lizzie.”

  “What’s up?” Winky said, after Kathy had left.

  “Nothing.”

  “Come on. You look like you just lost a tin of salmon.”

  “I was meant to be buying a stupid Total Dream Office for my niece, but I didn’t get around to it, and now—”

  “Total Dream Office?” He laughed. “I could have told you that you’d have to get in quick.”

  “How would you know?”

  “Because I’m connected. Total Dream Office has been trending on Twitter for weeks now.”

  “Since when were you on Twitter?”

  “Hey, just because I’m a cat doesn’t mean I can’t tweet. So what are you going to do?”

  “Most likely die a slow, painful death at Kathy’s hands.”

  Why wasn’t I on Twitter? I would have known about Total Dream Office.

  My phone rang, and Winky went back to his milk.

  “Jill? Are you there?”

  “Jack? Sorry. I was miles away.”

  “Sounded like it. Look, I just thought I’d give you a call to see if you wanted to get lunch some time before Christmas—if we can get a table that is. I’m going back home to see the family on Christmas Eve.”

  “Sure, I’d like that. I can make the day after tomorrow, and there’s a place I know that should be able to squeeze us in. I’ll get Mrs V to make a booking and let you have the details.”

  “Sounds great. I’ll see you then.”

  Detective Jack Maxwell and I had a kind of on-off relationship. In truth, it was more off than on. Still, I lived in hope.

  Mrs V was scowling when I went through to the outer office.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s your grandmother.”

  I might have known. “What’s she done this time?”

  “Kathy must have told her about the children’s home project. She called just now to say she wants to get involved.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “You can say that again. You know what she’s like. She always wants to take over. She said she’d be around later.”

  That sounded like my cue to leave.

  “Will you have time to call Temperature?” I said.

  “Do you want me to book a table for you?”

  “Yes please. A table for two—around one the day after tomorrow. Then will you let Maxwell know once it’s booked?”

  “Nice to see that you two have got together in time for Christmas.”

  “We aren’t together. It’s just lunch.”

  “If you say so, dear. You will make an effort with your appearance, won’t you?” I could feel her eyes look me up and down. “Something a little more daring on the neckline, maybe?”

  “Maybe.”

  What on earth was I going to do about the stupid Total Dream Office? There had to be one in Washbridge somewhere, and if there was I’d find it.

  ***

  Three hours later, and my feet were killing me. I must have been in every toy shop in Washbridge, as well as most of the department stores. I’d received a mixed reception. Some people had been sympathetic to my plight—others had laughed in my face. I’d really blown it this time. Lizzie would hate me, and Kathy would most probably kill me.

  Hold on
a minute! What’s that? It can’t be, can it?

  I’d almost forgotten about Tilleys Department Store. It was one of the oldest shops in Washbridge, and one of the most run-down. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been in there. But there—right there in the window was a solitary box. A box with the words ‘Total Dream Office’ on the front in bright, luminous letters.

  I ran so fast that I got caught up in the revolving doors for a few moments. It would be just my luck to get to the counter as someone else bought the stupid toy.

  “Yes, madam?” A middle-aged woman with the smallest ears I’d ever seen, greeted me.

  “Total Dream Office,” I shouted.

  She took a step back—obviously terrified at the mad woman in front of her.

  “Sorry.” I tried to catch my breath. “Total Dream Office, please.”

  “We’ve sold out. I’m sorry.”

  “There’s one there.” I pointed to the window behind her. “Look!”

  “Display only, sorry.”

  “I don’t mind. I’ll take it anyway.”

  “It’s for display purposes only. I can’t sell—”

  I’d had enough. I cast the ‘sleep’ spell, and she slumped down onto the counter. I did a quick check to make sure there was no one watching—I needn’t have worried because the store was deserted as usual—then I climbed into the window and grabbed the box.

  “Yes!” I shouted, and gave a fist pump, much to the surprise of an elderly couple who were walking past the window.

  It’s not like I’d stolen it because I left the cash under the hand of the assistant who would have woken up by the time I was back on the street.

  I’d done it. I’d never had a moment’s doubt. Christmas shopping—pah! What was all the fuss about?

  Chapter 4

  This time, I was determined to catch Luther Stone under the mistletoe—if it was the last thing I did. But first, I had to silence that stupid cat. I know what you’re thinking, but for once it wasn’t Winky who was driving me insane. Ever since I’d got back to the flat, I’d had to put up with a stupid cat howling its head off.

  I’d assumed the noise was coming from outside, but it actually got quieter when I stepped out of the building. It must be inside one of the flats. Maybe someone had gone out and left it without food? I went back inside, and followed the sound. I was getting closer now—it seemed to be coming from inside Betty Longbottom’s flat. I’d no idea she even owned a cat.

 

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