by Adele Abbott
“I can’t stay here another night. It’s so cold, and I’m starving.”
“I’m sick of hearing you whinge. Shut up or I’ll shut you up!”
“No, please! I’m sorry.”
That was my cue. I tried the door handle, but it was locked. I cast the ‘power’ spell and pushed it clean off its hinges.
The two of them turned to look at me. The way the young woman was cowering suggested she thought Tom was about to hit her.
“Step away from her!”
He took a step back, but in the same movement, grabbed a knife from the table behind him.
“I’d put that down if I was you,” I said, trying to sound calmer than I felt.
“Or you’ll do what exactly?”
I’d expected him to advance on me, but instead he stepped behind the chair where the young woman was sitting, and put the blade to her throat. I could see the terror in her eyes.
“Get out of here or I’ll kill her!” he spat the words.
My aim had to be perfect or she would be dead.
It was the first time I’d applied such focus to the ‘lightning bolt’ spell. Normally, I’d point my finger and hope for the best. This time I focussed on a specific target—the hand holding the knife.
Tom screamed in pain, and dropped the blade. That was my chance. I kicked the knife away, and cast the ‘tie-up’ spell to bind his feet and hands. Finally, I cast ‘forget’ spells on both of them, so they wouldn’t remember the lightning bolt or the rope trick.
“What did you do to my hand?” he screamed.
“You’ll be okay when the paramedics arrive.”
“But it’s burnt!”
“Stop whining!”
I put my arm around the young woman, and led her outside. She was shaking like a leaf.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, but didn’t look okay.
“You are Amanda, I assume?”
“Yeah.”
I put in a call to Maxwell and asked him to send a paramedic.
“You’re going to be okay. The police are on their way.”
“It’s my fault!” She sobbed.
“Don’t be silly. You’re safe now.”
“You don’t understand. This is all my fault.”
Chapter 23
This promised to be good. Normally, I’d do anything to avoid watching Wool TV, but this morning was Mrs V’s first interview which was going to be broadcast live. And her guest was none other than Grandma. I’d made Mrs V promise she wouldn’t give Grandma an easy ride, but that she’d push her to talk about Everlasting Wool, One-Size Needles and the one hour delivery promise.
The opening credits rolled before going live to Mrs V who looked totally awesome. The tiara might have been a little much, but still. She appeared to be in Ever A Wool Moment.
“Welcome to V Day. I’m your host, Annabel Versailles. Each week I’ll be bringing you all of the hot news and gossip in the racy world of yarn. I’ll also be conducting in-depth interviews with the industry’s movers and shakers. Which brings me to my first guest. She has taken the world of yarn by storm since she appeared on the scene only a few short weeks ago. She is Mirabel Millbright.”
“Who? Mirabel?” I almost spat my cereal over the TV screen. “Are you kidding me? Mirabel Millbright?” It hadn’t even occurred to me until now that I didn’t know Grandma’s name. Never in a million years would I have had her down as a Mirabel. Maybe I should start calling her that? Or maybe I’d rather keep breathing.
What was Grandma wearing? It looked remarkably like the wedding dress she’d tried to wear to my mother’s recent wedding, but it had been dyed black.
“Mirabel. Thank you for talking to me today.”
Grandma nodded, but said nothing. Was it my imagination or did she look nervous? I didn’t think she did nervous.
“Go get her, Mrs V!” I yelled at the screen.
“Since you opened Ever A Wool Moment recently, you’ve set the community talking with a number of innovative products. Maybe we should talk about Everlasting Wool? Some people say—”
“I’m glad you mentioned that, Annabel,” Grandma interrupted. “Everlasting Wool has indeed proven to be one of our most popular products.” She turned to face the camera. “Viewers can sign up for their subscription now at EverAWoolMoment.com. We’re running a special offer for viewers of this program—just enter special code ‘MRSV’, and you’ll get a fifty per cent discount on your first month’s subscription.”
“Some people are concerned about this new approach,” Mrs V pushed. “They don’t understand how wool can be sold by subscription.”
“Some people will always be afraid of change, Annabel, but for those who aren’t, you can subscribe to Everlasting Wool at EverAWoolMoment.com. And don’t forget to enter the code: ‘MRSV’.”
“You still haven’t addressed the question of how wool can be sold this way.”
“It’s very simple, Annabel. You pay a monthly subscription and you need never run out of wool again. To sign up just go to EverAWoolMoment.com and enter the code ‘MRSV’.”
I was yelling at the TV. “Don’t let her off the hook! Make her answer the question!”
Mrs V tried, but Grandma ran rings around her. She turned every question into another opportunity to promote her products and her web site. The woman was a genius.
By the time the closing credits rolled, Grandma was all smiles, and Mrs V looked angry and frustrated.
My phone rang.
“Did you see that?” Kathy was buzzing.
“It was terrible. Poor Mrs V.”
“What do you mean? It was brilliant. Your grandma is a freaking genius. I’ve just checked the order log—the sales are through the roof.”
“I don’t know why you’re so pleased.”
“She promised me a bonus at the end of the year if we hit our targets.”
“‘Our’ targets? I thought you were the hired help?”
“Gee thanks, Jill. Way to make me feel good about my new career.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s just—”
“Got to go. One of the kids is crying.”
She was lying of course, but I couldn’t blame her. Just because Grandma was getting under my skin didn’t mean I should take it out on Kathy. I’d call her back later when she’d cooled down. What? Yes, of course I’d apologise. I wasn’t above apologising. When I’m in the wrong, I’ll always apologise. It just so happens I rarely am. Wrong—that is.
***
I’d arranged to meet Daze at Cuppy C, but I stopped off at Aunt Lucy’s first. I found her staring out at the garden.
“Aunt Lucy? Are you okay?”
“Sorry, Jill. I didn’t hear you come in. I’m fine. The lawn isn’t though. Look!”
“The goat?”
“Yes. By the time the spell had worn off, the damage had already been done.”
“How was the reporter?”
“He didn’t hang around. He said he didn’t feel well. Probably all the grass he ate.”
“Have you seen Grandma?”
Aunt Lucy rolled her eyes. “I’ve only just got rid of her. She came here straight from her interview on Wool TV. I suppose you saw it?”
I nodded.
“I feel sorry for your Mrs V. Grandma made mincemeat of her. She was full of it when she was here.”
“You know she’s using magic in that shop of hers, don’t you?”
Aunt Lucy glanced around. “You have to be careful what you say.”
“How else could she be doing it? Everlasting Wool? One-Size Needles?”
“Maybe so, but she’s family. Your family. Don’t ever forget that.”
Aunt Lucy was right. I had a family now—a family I hadn’t even known existed. Why was I trying to sabotage my relationship with them just because Grandma got up my nose? I had to step back. Take a deep breath. I wouldn’t let Grandma rile me from now on.
“I thought I saw you arrive.” Grandma waltzed into
the kitchen. “Come to congratulate me on my TV performance?”
Deep breath. Keep cool. “Morning, Grandma. Yes, I saw your interview.”
“Annabel thought she could ambush me.” She scoffed. “What a joke!”
“It was her first show.”
“Last one too, probably.”
Deep breath. Stay calm.
“What’s wrong with your lawn, Lucy?” She stared out of the window.
“The goat. Remember?”
“Oh yes.” She cackled. “I’d forgotten about him. Anyway, I’ve just heard they’ve given the place in the Hall of Fame to one of the other nominees. Good thing too. I don’t want some ‘old biddy’ award. Oh well, you two look as much fun as a disco at a funeral parlour. I’ll go and find some of my fans—sign a few autographs, that kind of thing. And Lucy, get that lawn sorted out. It looks a mess.”
With that she was gone.
Aunt Lucy turned to me. “Forget everything I said. Family is way overrated.”
Aunt Lucy and I sat down with cups of tea and custard creams. We spent the first ten minutes discussing all the things we’d like to do to Grandma, but then moved on to more pleasant matters.
“There is something I wanted to run by you,” she said. “I’m not sure what to do about it.”
I was intrigued.
“I’ve had an approach,” she said, in almost a whisper. “From an agent.”
“What kind of agent?”
“Agent might not be the right word. I guess he’s more of a middleman. He asked if I’d be interested in baking birthday cakes to order.”
“Would you?”
“The extra money would come in handy, and I do enjoy baking.”
“So what’s stopping you?”
“I’m worried I’ll upset the twins. When they first opened Cuppy C they asked if I’d bake cakes for them, but they’d expect me to do it for free. I said no. It’s their business and I thought they should have to stand on their own feet. If I say yes to this and they find out, they’ll be on my case again.”
“Do they have to know?”
“Maybe not. They never pay much interest to what I’m doing anyway, so if I don’t tell them—”
“I say go for it. I won’t say anything to them.”
“You’re right. I think I will. Thanks, Jill.” She gave me a peck on the cheek. “It’s nice to have someone to run this kind of thing past. I would have asked your mother, but she’s too loved up with Alberto at the moment.”
***
At Cuppy C, Amber and Pearl were doing their best to eavesdrop until Daze gave them one of her looks. That did the trick. Daze had brought along her young sidekick, Blaze. Daze was eating a blueberry muffin. It was the last one, and she’d beaten me to it by seconds. Not that I minded. It did look super delicious though.
“I hope you don’t mind that I brought Blaze with me today?”
“Not at all. Good to get the old music hall act back together again.” What? I couldn’t help myself.
She gave me ‘the look’.
“Sorry. Slip of the tongue. Look, before we get on to TDO business, can I run something else by you?”
“Sure, but first I need a top-up. Blaze, do you mind?”
Blaze sighed, but picked up Daze’s cup and joined the queue at the counter.
“Do you remember I told you about a witch who might be abusing her magical powers in the human world?”
Daze nodded.
“Can we keep this just between you and me?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t know—maybe I should—”
“You’re talking about your grandmother, aren’t you?”
“How did you know?”
“It wasn’t difficult to work out.”
“Look. I know this makes me look bad, but I really want to get her out of Washbridge. She’s driving me insane. I can put up with her here, but not there as well.”
“You’ll have your work cut out. To bring her down is going to require cast iron proof. I can’t just arrest a level six witch on your say-so. I’d lose my RR licence. Do you have any proof?”
“She’s selling wool that supposedly goes on forever.”
“That’s not proof—it’s a subscription.”
“You know as well as I do that it has to be magic. How else does a ball of wool keep on going no matter how much you use?”
“I still need proof. If you’re serious about this then you’re going to have to come up with much more.”
I sighed. “Okay. I thought I’d run it by you anyway.”
“No problem.”
“There you go,” Blaze put the coffee on the table in front of Daze.
“Where’s my Victoria sponge?” Daze said.
“You never asked for one.”
“You know I always have a Victoria sponge with my first refill.”
Blaze sighed a huge sigh, and then rejoined the queue.
“Okay,” Daze said. “Let’s talk TDO. Has he made any more attempts on your life?”
“Yeah. He tied up my cat, Winky, and replaced him with a doppelganger who tried to rip my throat out.”
“Nice.”
“Winky wasn’t impressed.”
“Have you made any headway with your investigation?” Daze took a sip of her refill.
“No, but I think we’ve been approaching this from the wrong angle.”
“How do you mean?”
“To find TDO, we have to get at him through his supporters.”
“You mean Followers?”
“No. From what I’ve seen of them, they’re little more than androids. I’m talking about the sups that openly support TDO.”
“I don’t know of anyone who does that.”
“I do. Do you remember I took part in the Levels Competition?”
“I heard you did okay.”
“I nearly didn’t make it there at all. A witch named Alicia Dawes poisoned me. If it hadn’t been for Grandma I would probably have died.”
Daze raised her eyebrows. “And now you want to have her arrested?”
“I know, I know. I’m a terrible person. Don’t try to make me feel any worse about Grandma than I already do. Anyway, Alicia said something about there being forces much greater than hers that didn’t want me in Candlefield.”
“That could mean anything.”
“I know, but I have a feeling about this. Call it a P.I.’s intuition if you like. Anyway, it’s not like I have any other leads. I’m going to do some digging around to see what I can find out about my friend Alicia.”
“Do you know anything about her?”
“Not really. Grandma said she comes from a long line of evil witches. And if Grandma thinks they’re evil, I guess they really must be. The first thing I need to do is to find out where she lives.”
“I may be able to help with that.”
“Really? That would be great.”
“I can’t promise anything, but if she’s as bad news as you say she is then it’s likely she may have a police record.”
“And you can get hold of that?”
“Officially? No. Unofficially? We’ll see.”
Chapter 24
The phone call had come out of the blue. Dexter Banks’ P.A. had asked if I’d visit her boss at his home on Sunday morning. I’d agreed, mainly because I was keen to find out how Amanda was doing.
The house, more a mansion really, was located halfway between Washbridge and Carlton. The area was known locally as millionaires’ row, where you wouldn’t find any properties for under two million. The house was surrounded by a high wall with CCTV cameras along its length. A security guard with a Special Forces physique and haircut checked my ID before allowing me through the electronic gates. Good job my fuel tank was full because the driveway was almost as long as the drive from my flat. A Rolls Royce, a Bentley and a Ferrari were parked in front of the house. I felt embarrassed to park alongside them.
I’d no sooner stepped out of the car than I hear
d a familiar voice. “Jill, welcome!”
“Bob? I didn’t realise you’d be here.”
“Neither did I. Don’t get invited up here very often. Not that I’m bothered.” He grinned.
“How’s Amanda?”
Before he could answer another man appeared in the doorway.
“You must be Jill. I’m Dexter Banks.” He shook my hand. “Let’s go inside, Patty is keen to meet you.”
I followed him across the huge entrance hall to an equally large reception room at the rear of the house. Patty Dale was classically pretty with an elegance money can’t buy. She took my hand in both of hers.
“Thank you so much for bringing our little girl back to us.”
“I’m just glad everything turned out all right.”
“Thanks to you it did,” Bob said. “I’m not sure it would have if we’d left it to the police.”
“Would you like a drink?” Patty asked.
“I’ll have a coffee, please.”
“Nothing stronger?” She pointed to the bar in the far corner of the room.
“No, thanks. It’s a little early for me.”
For the next hour, Dexter did most of the talking. He was a man who liked the sound of his own voice. Although he and Patty couldn’t thank me enough for finding Amanda, I found it curious that neither of them had mentioned her whereabouts. Nor was there any mention of Amanda’s part in the ‘kidnap’. I figured it would be better for me to talk to Bob about Amanda if I could get him on his own.
“Well, I should be making tracks,” I said. I’d heard about as many of Dexter Banks’ stories as I could take.
“Thank you again.” Patty gave me an uncomfortable hug and a peck on the cheek.
“Before you go,” Dexter said. “You must allow me to pay you for the work you put into rescuing Amanda.”
“Steve hired me. You can pay his bill if you’d like?” Bob had already offered to pick up the tab, but why shouldn’t Dexter pay? He could afford it.
I noticed Dexter’s expression change momentarily at the mention of Steve’s name.
“Of course. Have the bill sent to me would you? I’ll take care of it, plus a bonus to show our gratitude.”
“That’s very kind.”