Witch Is When Everything Went Crazy

by Adele Abbott

  “Calling for her son when she knew she was dying? That’s hardly surprising.”

  “You don’t think she might have been trying to tell Mrs Draycott who was responsible for her death? Who was behind the wheel?”

  “It’s possible, but I’m going to need a lot more proof before I can arrest him.”

  “How’s the love life?” I asked Winky who was perched in his usual spot on the window sill.

  “Don’t ask.”

  “Has Bella gone AWOL again?”

  “No. She’s there. Look!”

  Sure enough, beautiful Bella, the feline supermodel, was in her usual spot across the way.

  “Who is she signalling to?”

  “You might well ask.” Winky sighed.

  Winky’s flags were by his side on the window sill.

  “Is she two-timing you?”

  “If I find out who he is, I’ll cut his nuts off.” Winky hissed.

  “Have you asked her why?”

  “She says she doesn’t want to get serious.”

  “Supermodels. They can be like that.” Obviously, I spoke as a leading authority on the subject. “How about some dinner?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  Crazy, psycho Winky was exhausting, but sad Winky was kind of heartbreaking.

  It didn’t take long to find out that Natasha Cutts worked as a temp with the QuickTemp Agency which was located a few streets from my office.

  “Good morning,” the young woman said. The name on her badge was Peach. Poor girl.

  “Morning, I’d like to sign up as a temp.”

  “Sure. Follow me.” Peach led me behind a blue screen, and gestured for me to take a seat.

  “I’ll need to take a few details from you.”

  “Fire away.”

  “Name?”

  “Jasmine Pear.” What? If she can be a peach, I can be a pear.

  “Address?”

  “10 Apple Drive, Washbridge.” Too much? I have to keep myself amused somehow—it helps me get through the day.

  Peach gave me a look. I smiled reassuringly.

  “What type of position are you looking for?”

  I can’t tell you how tempted I was to say ‘fruit picker’, but I decided that might be a step too far.

  “Receptionist.”

  “What experience do you have?”

  “I’ve been working in a solicitor’s office for the last four years.”

  “That’s good. What’s the name of the firm?”

  “Cherry, Cherry and Berry.” I just couldn’t help myself.

  “I’ve never heard of them.”

  I’d had my fun. Now it was time to get to work.

  The sound was almost deafening. Papers lifted off desks and began to swirl around the room in a vortex of air. Peach was pushed back in her chair by the sheer force of the wind.

  “What’s happening?” I said. If only Washbridge Amdram could see me now, they’d sign me up on the spot.

  “I don’t know.” Peach struggled off her chair, and began to fight her way to the front of the room. The other staff were desperately trying to gather papers and files that had been scattered all over the floor.

  For my first attempt at the ‘vortex’ spell, that had gone very well. Not only had I judged the power just right, but I’d also positioned it so that I escaped the worst of the devastation.

  “What’s happening?” a male voice said.

  “I don’t know,” Peach sounded almost hysterical. “It’s like a whirlwind or something.”

  I grabbed the mouse, clicked on the menu option, and selected ‘name search’. Fortunately there was only one Natasha Cutts listed. I had a notepad to jot down the names of the companies she’d worked for, but when I saw the third one on the list, I knew I had what I needed.

  The mini tornado had run its course. I switched back to the screen where Peach had been entering my details.

  “Sorry,” Peach said. “I really don’t know what just happened.”

  “Not to worry. I can see you’re busy. I’ll come back some other time.”

  “Sorry again.”

  “You might want to get your air conditioning looked at,” I said, on my way out.

  The power station had been a victim of the transition away from fossil fuels. Despite a petition, signed by over twenty thousand people worried about local jobs, the plant had closed. Decommissioning and demolition were scheduled for the following year, according to press reports. In the meantime, the buildings stood as a bleak reminder of lost jobs and livelihoods. The perimeter was protected by a tall, steel fence topped with razor wire. Signs warned would-be intruders that the site was protected by guard dogs.

  My previous attempt at levitation had been something of a disaster, and a source of much amusement to Grandma. This fence was much taller, and the razor wire would be a lot less forgiving. I couldn’t afford to make a mistake.

  I rose gradually off the ground until I was a foot above the razor wire, and then edged slowly forward until I was clear of the fence. Now came the difficult part. This was where I’d got it spectacularly wrong last time when instead of a slow, controlled descent, I’d dropped like a stone. I was wiser and more experienced now, and determined not to give Grandma any more ammunition to use against me. She’d already be gunning for me after the Mrs V incident.

  Slowly does it. Perfect! I was on the ground, and not a bruise or cut to be seen. Now, all I had to worry about was the three dogs which were racing towards me—teeth bared.

  Chapter 14

  They looked so very peaceful now. The ‘sleep’ spell had done its job, but it had been a close call. I’d had to wait until the dogs were close enough, before casting the spell on each of them in turn. The last of the three had almost been on me when he slumped to the ground.

  The site was divided into two distinct areas: the power station itself with its huge cooling towers to my right, and to my left, the expansive office buildings. Nature was already beginning to reclaim the land, with weeds growing out of every crack in the concrete.

  The large double doors were locked, but I soon found a broken window—there were plenty of them. Inside it was cold and damp. Everything of any value had long since been stripped out. It would have taken me all day to search every office, but I had a better idea. The ‘listen’ spell brought the building to life. A million and one sounds invaded my head. Water dripping—maybe a broken pipe or a tap. A thousand small feet—the place was no doubt home to any number of rats, mice and creepy crawlies. And then, from somewhere among that cacophony came what sounded like a voice. A very weak voice. I re-focussed, this time filtering out all other sounds.

  I headed towards the voice, being careful not to stumble over the debris which was scattered everywhere. When I reached the stairs, I hesitated. The voice had fallen silent. After a few seconds, it started up again—barely audible even with the ‘listen’ spell. I reached the top floor, and followed the voice along the corridor—hugging the wall. The sign on the door read ‘Conference room 3A’. The small glass window in the door was broken. Through it I could see him.

  The man tied to the chair was tall and gangly. The only light in the room came from a broken skylight above his head. I pushed the door open slowly. I was conscious there might be others in the room. Once inside, I began to walk slowly towards the man. His head was bowed, so he didn’t see my approach until I was only a few feet away.

  “Help me!” His voice was weak. “Please, help me.”

  After untying him, I made a call to Maxwell.

  “I’ve found Norman Reeves. He’s going to need an ambulance.”

  Thirty minutes later, Norman Reeves was in A&E, and I was in my favourite interview room with my favourite detective.

  “You should have called us before you went charging in there.”

  “I wasn’t sure he’d be there. It was just a hunch.”

  “Some hunch. How did you know?”

  “I think Reeves was actually abducted before the
night that he and Natasha supposedly visited the restaurant. Reeves is a skinny giant. The man on the restaurant CCTV was only a few inches taller than Natasha—I’d hazard a guess that was Dominic Whitelaw. Also, the driver’s seat in the abandoned car was pushed all the way forward. There’s no way Reeves could have driven with the seat in that position. Natasha or Dominic must have driven it to the car park—they probably took out the only CCTV camera the day before. They needed to make it look like Reeves had taken a train.”

  “How did you put Cutts and Whitelaw together?”

  “Natasha Cutts works for a temp agency. Three years ago she was assigned to work at the power station. Her boss was Dominic Whitelaw. I’m pretty sure they’ve been having an affair ever since.”

  “That still doesn’t explain how you knew where to find Reeves.”

  “Whitelaw still has access to the power plant. He’s been overseeing its closure. Like I said, it was just a hunch. Reeves should be able to fill in the blanks when he’s recovered.”

  “He was lucky you found him when you did. I’ve spoken to the doctor at A&E. She said another twenty four hours and he probably wouldn’t have made it. The only reason he’s still alive now is because he managed to catch a few drops of rainwater which had dripped in through the broken skylight.”

  “What’s going to happen to them now?”

  “Natasha Cutts and Dominic Whitelaw are being taken into custody as we speak.”

  “And the money?”

  “That’s anyone’s guess.”

  “Will you let me know if it turns up? I want to tell Kathy. Hopefully, it’ll be good news.”

  I stood up.

  “Whoa, just a minute. We aren’t done yet.”

  I sat back down.

  “You haven’t explained how you managed to view the CCTV from the restaurant or how you managed to gain access to the power station.”

  “A lady has to have some secrets.”

  I decided to drive to Candlefield. It was much slower than casting a spell, but it was way more relaxing.

  “Jill!” Aunt Lucy greeted me with a hug. “Come on in. I was about to make a cup of tea. Would you like one?”

  “That would be great.”

  “Milk. One and two-thirds spoonfuls of sugar?”

  “Please.”

  “Your mother tells me that you found her ring. She was so thrilled.”

  “I was thrilled for her. She did say something that confused me though.”

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “She said the ring would pass down to me.”

  “And so it will.”

  “Yeah, but that’s the bit I don’t understand. Normally possessions are passed down when someone dies, but my mother—well—”

  “I see what you mean. It’s simple really. Your mother will only be a ghost for as long as she chooses to be. After that her spirit will move on.”

  “Move on?”

  “That’s right. In fact, the only reason she chose to remain here as a ghost was because she wanted to make sure that you were safe. She didn’t know how you’d cope with the transition to being a witch.” Aunt Lucy took a sip of tea. “She needn’t have worried on that score.”

  “So she could leave at any time?”

  “In theory, yes. But then again it could be decades or even centuries from now.”

  “I’ll be long gone by then anyway.” I laughed.

  “Not necessarily.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You haven’t realised, have you? As a witch, you don’t age in the same way as a human does.”

  “No one told me that.”

  “I’m sorry dear. There’s so much we take for granted. I forget sometimes that this is all still new to you. Witches are not immortal, but they do age much slower than humans—probably one tenth as fast.”

  Maths was never my strong point, but I did the calculation.

  “So a witch could be six hundred years old, but only appear to be sixty?”

  “Thereabouts. It’s way more complicated than that. The more time you spend in the human world, the quicker you will age.”

  “Do all witches live to such a great age?”

  “Not all. Just like humans, some fall victim to illness or injury. Like I said, witches are not immortal. Although your body will withstand much more than that of a human, and will recover much quicker, you’re not invincible.”

  “How old is Grandma?”

  “In human years? About eight hundred and fifty.”

  “No wonder she’s cranky.”

  Aunt Lucy laughed.

  “I’m afraid I’ve had a couple of run-ins with her recently,” I said. “Since she opened the wool shop.”

  “Don’t worry your head about it. I’d be more surprised if you hadn’t. She’d try the patience of a saint. How is her shop doing?”

  “Very well as far as I can tell. She’s a mean marketeer, I’ll give her that.”

  Aunt Lucy made us a snack, and said, “You mentioned you wanted to talk to me about the wedding.”

  “Mum said I’ll be expected to give a speech. That’s the first I’ve heard of it.”

  “Just keep it simple. Say a few words about what it means to be reunited with your mother. That will have everyone in tears—except Grandma of course. Then wish the happy couple well, and you’re done.”

  “Aren’t there any special witch formalities or customs I need to be aware of?”

  “No. The ceremony is pretty much what you’d expect in the human world. Incidentally, have the girls mentioned the hen night to you?”

  “No.” I hated hen nights with a passion.

  “They will. They’ve been talking about nothing else.”

  “It’s not really my kind of thing.”

  “They’re going to be disappointed if you don’t go.”

  Great.

  “The main reason I wanted to see you,” I said, trying hard to put the hen night out of my mind, “was about Kathy, and her family.”

  “Are they okay?”

  “Yeah, they’re fine. It’s just that when I came to my mother’s funeral, I didn’t know the rules about not telling humans about Candlefield. Anyway, I told Kathy, and now she wants to come over with the family. I don’t know what to do.”

  “You’ve tried the ‘forget’ spell I take it?”

  “Yeah, but it doesn’t seem to unseat the memory from when I originally told her. Peter and the kids know too. The holiday they’d planned has fallen through, so now Kathy has had the brilliant idea of them all coming here. I’m supposed to ask you if they can stay with you.”

  “Oh dear. That is a bit of a mess.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Leave it with me, and I’ll see what I can come up with.”

  Chapter 15

  “Please, pretty please,” Amber said.

  “You have to come, Jill.” Pearl could have won medals for pouting.

  “Hen nights really aren’t my thing. I’m getting too old for that kind of thing.”

  “Nonsense. You’re not much older than us. Please say you’ll come.”

  It was my own fault. I should have steered clear of Cuppy C. Aunt Lucy had warned me that they were hell-bent on getting me to go on the hen night.

  “How many people are going?” I asked.

  “Including you?”

  “Excluding me.”

  “Two.”

  “Two others apart from you two?”

  Pearl frowned. “No, just us two.”

  “What about my mother? She’s the one getting married.”

  “A lot of the clubs are a bit sniffy about letting ghosts in. And, besides she told Mum that she was too old for that kind of thing. She wants you to go though.”

  I studied Amber’s face. Had my mother really said that or was it just a ploy to get me to agree? “What about Aunt Lucy?”

  The twins shared the same horrified expression. “Mum?” Pearl said. “We don’t want her there.”

  “She
doesn’t want to come anyway,” Amber said. “She can’t bear to be separated from Lester. Yuk!”

  “I like Lester.” Although I still hadn’t got used to his moustache.

  “You don’t have to watch them smooching. It shouldn’t be allowed.”

  “So, then.” I finished off the last few crumbs of the strawberry cupcake. “The hen night is just you two?”

  “And you,” Pearl said.

  “Please!” Amber pleaded.

  Saying no would have felt like smacking a kitten. “Go on then. But I’m not staying out too late. I’ve got a lot on at the moment.”

  “Yay!”

  “Thank you!”

  They hugged me.

  “Now we have to decide what you’re going to wear.” Amber was the first to release me.

  “You need something new and spectacular!” Pearl said.

  Spectacular?

  “We have to go shopping right now!” Pearl began to take off her apron.

  “What about the shop?”

  “Amber can look after it.”

  “No way!” Amber threw her apron onto the table. “If you’re going, so am I.”

  “It’s your turn to hold the fort.” Pearl had her arms crossed—she meant business.

  “What about yesterday when you went out to get your nails done?”

  “That was an emergency.”

  “You’d only had them done the day before.”

  “One of them was chipped.”

  “I’m sure I can manage to go shopping alone if you two are needed here.”

  They turned their gaze on me, and then back to one another—and laughed.

  “What?”

  “You’re so funny, Jill,” Amber said.

  What? I was capable of picking out clothes.

  “You may be kicking our asses with level two spells, but—” Pearl looked me up and down. “Seriously?”

  “I look okay, don’t I?” I was wearing my favourite grey slacks and a freshly ironed white blouse.

  “You look okay, but you have to look spectacular!” Pearl said.

  “I do?”

  “Definitely,” they said in unison. Well at least I’d got them to agree on something—my fashion sense sucked.

  Neither of the twins had any intention of missing out on a morning’s shopping, so they left Cuppy C in the hands of their two assistants, who if I read their body language correctly, weren’t particularly sorry to see their employers leave.