by Adele Abbott
“Did she say anything about me?”
“Such as?”
“Such as: Have you dumped that waste of space yet?”
“I’m not going to dignify that stupidity with an answer.”
It was time to leave. I’d seriously considered feigning a last-minute tummy bug, but I knew there was zero chance that Jack would have bought it.
“Oh? Tony looked us up and down. Both he and Clare were wearing their costumes. “We should have mentioned that it’s best to change beforehand. Security down there is pretty lax, and there are no lockers. Most people travel there in costume.”
“We didn’t realise,” Jack said. “We’ll go and change,”
Once we were back inside the house, he gave me a look.
“What? How was I supposed to know that we were meant to put our costumes on?”
“I didn’t say a word.”
“You didn’t need to. You were giving me the look.”
Oh boy! The day was getting off to a great start.
Resplendent in our vampire costumes, we joined Tony and Clare in the car. Jack sat up front, and I slid alongside Clare in the back.
“I love your costume.” Clare looked me up and down with the experienced eye of a cosplay veteran. “What about your fangs?”
“I thought I’d put those in when we get there.”
“I have mine in.” Jack turned around, and flashed the plastic canines.
“You look great, Jack,” Clare said.
“And you make a fantastic witch, doesn’t she, Jill?”
“Very authentic,” I agreed, half-heartedly.
“Jill wanted to go as a witch,” Jack said. “I told her she wasn’t really witch material.”
Not witch material? Cheek! The temptation to demonstrate my witchy skills had never been so great.
When we pulled up at the toll booth, I spotted Mr Ivers, ducking out of sight.
“There’s no one to collect the money.” Tony looked confused. So did Jack and Clare. I’d been the only one to spot Mr Ivers’ disappearing act.
“I’ll sort this.” I climbed out of the car, and walked over to the booth. “Mr Ivers?” I knocked on the glass. “It’s okay, you can come out. It’s me, Jill.”
Slowly, and very nervously, he raised his head. “I thought I was under attack from paranormal creatures.”
“Sorry to scare you. We’re just on our way to a cosplay thingy.”
“What’s cosplay?”
“It’s where grown people play at dressing up,” I said in a hushed voice so as not to upset the neighbours.
After Mr Ivers had taken the cash, I climbed back into the car, and we were on our way again.
Have you ever sat in a car dressed as a vampire? If you have, then you will know that you attract some strange looks. And none stranger than from my old friend, Leo Riley. We were on our way through Washbridge when we pulled up at a set of traffic lights. And who should pull up in the lane next to us? You guessed it. My favourite detective. The look on his face was priceless.
Two hours later, we arrived at SupsCon. After parking the car, we joined the queue that snaked around the forecourt in front of the conference centre. I had no idea that cosplay was so popular. Or why.
“Put your fangs in,” Jack whispered.
“Okay.” I shoved the stupid things into my mouth. “It’s going to take ages just to get inside.”
“I can’t tell what you’re saying.”
“That’s because I’ve got these stupid things in my mouth.”
“What did you say?”
I pulled the fangs out. “I said it’s going to take ages just to get inside.”
“It’ll be worth the wait, though. There are some great costumes, aren’t there?”
He was right; there were some fabulous costumes. But it was something else that had caught my attention. At least one-third of the people in the queue were sups! I couldn’t get my head around it. I was there because I’d practically been press-ganged into it, but why did all the other sups want to go to a cosplay event—just to dress as sups? It made no sense.
Jack, Tony and Clare were deep in conversation, as we made our way slowly towards the entrance. While they were distracted, I managed to grab a word with a couple of werewolves who were dressed as—wait for it—that’s right—werewolves!
“Hey, guys. What’s the deal?”
“How do you mean?”
“Why would you come here and pretend to be a werewolf, when you really are—”
“Shush!” They both looked around. “Someone might hear.”
“Sorry,” I whispered. “I just don’t get why you’d want to do it.”
“We normally don’t get the chance to be ourselves in the human world because we run the risk of being arrested by the rogue retrievers. But here, we can be ourselves for a few hours. It’s very liberating.”
“I hadn’t considered that.”
“Can I ask you something?” the taller of the two said.
“Sure.”
“Why would a witch want to come dressed as a vampire?”
“Because, according to my human partner, I’d make a terrible witch.”
That gave them both a good laugh.
When we eventually made it inside, I immediately wished we hadn’t bothered. The venue was packed to bursting, and if there was aircon in there, it wasn’t very effective. I was sweating buckets.
What? Okay then. I was perspiring buckets. Happy now?
I followed the other three as we made our way from one stand to another. Tony and Clare seemed to have money to burn, as they bought all manner of memorabilia.
“We should get those.” Jack pointed to ceramic models of Vamp and Champ.
“Why?”
“As a reminder of today.”
Why would anyone want to be reminded of this travesty?
“They’re expensive.”
“Not really.”
“Where would we put them?”
“In the lounge.”
“Where people can see them?”
“Why not?”
There was no reasoning with him.
“We should all enter this!” Tony was holding up a flyer.
“What is it?” Jack was Mr Keen, as always.
“It’s a competition to choose the best costume—there’s a prize for each different category of supernatural creature.”
“We’re in,” Jack announced.
We?
“Great.” Tony nodded. I’ll put all four of our names forward. The entrance fee is ten pounds.”
“For the four of us?” I said, more in hope than expectation.
“Each.”
Lunch comprised an over-priced sandwich, and lukewarm tea in a paper cup.
“What do you think of SupsCon, so far?” Tony asked.
“It’s great fun.” Jack gushed.
“Jill?” Tony turned to me.
“Err—yeah—great—err—fun.”
“How does the competition work?” Jack asked.
“It’s pretty straightforward. Everyone has to report to the smaller hall next door. There’ll be a section for witches and wizards, another for vampires, another for werewolves etc. The judges walk around and mark each of the competitors, and then they announce the winners. It’s just a bit of fun really.”
“I think we should be in with a good chance,” Jack said. Always the competitor.
“Where’s the nearest loo?” I asked.
Clare pointed the way. “Do you want me to go with you?”
“No, it’s okay.”
I’ve never understood why some women feel the need to go to the ladies’ room in pairs. And besides, I didn’t actually need to go. I just wanted to get out of there for some fresh air.
The doorman stamped the back of my hand on my way out. In the forecourt, I sat down on the steps—thankful to get out of that clammy atmosphere.
“You look like you’re enjoying this about as much as I am.” A female vampire, dressed in a witch’
s outfit, was standing on the step below mine. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Help yourself.”
“I’m Kirsty.”
“Jill.”
“Let me guess. Your guy told you that you wouldn’t make a good witch?” she said.
“Got it in one. Same for you?”
“Yep. Apparently, I’d be an awful vampire.” She grinned and flashed her real fangs. “I love Bill, that’s my guy, to bits. But seriously, humans can be super stupid sometimes.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
Kirsty and I spent the next twenty minutes bemoaning our lot, but then we both had to get back inside for the competition.
“Good luck,” she said, and then disappeared into the crowd.
“Where have you been?” Jack looked flustered. “I didn’t think you were going to make it. It’s almost time for the competition.”
“There was a queue.” I kept my hand behind my back in case he noticed the stamp.
The four of us filed through to the smaller hall. Tony and Clare made their way to the witch and wizard section while Jack and I headed for the vampire section.
“Have you got your fangs in?” Jack stared at my mouth.
“I can’t talk with them in.”
“We have no chance of winning if you don’t wear them.”
“Okay.” I shoved them into my mouth.
The competition was for couples, so Jack and I had to stick close to one another while the two judges passed among us.
“Jill, flash your fangs when the judges are nearby.” Jack was taking this way too seriously.
After just under an hour, an announcement came over the loudspeaker: All competitors should now leave their section, and make their way in front of the main stage. The winners will be announced in a few minutes.
Jack was getting more and more excited, as the head judge announced the various winners. When it came to the witch and wizard category, Tony and Clare didn’t place in the top three, but they seemed to take it all in good part.
“And now, we come to the vampire category. In third place, we have Angela and Morgan Fairside.”
There was a smattering of polite applause as they made their way on stage to collect the world’s smallest trophy.
“In second place, we have Christine and Christopher Chrisling.”
Seriously?
“And in first place—” He paused for dramatic effect. I just wanted him to hurry up and get it over with, so we could go home. “Give it up for Jill Gooder and Jack Maxwell.”
What the—?
“Come on!” Jack grabbed my arm, and dragged me on stage to collect our trophy, which was only marginally bigger than those for second and third places.
“Well done, you two!” Clare greeted us when we re-joined them.
“Yeah! Well done!” Tony was almost as pleased as if he’d won.
As we made our way out of the building, I heard several vampires moaning, under their breath. They were complaining about the outrage of a witch and a human placing above ‘the real thing’. To be fair, they had a point.
When we finally got back home, I couldn’t wait to get into the house, so I could take off the stupid vampire costume.
“Tony, Clare, why don’t you come inside for a nightcap?” Jack said.
“Are you sure?” Clare must have seen my expression. “Jill looks tired.”
“She’s okay, aren’t you?” Jack turned to me.
“Sure. I’m fine. Come on in.”
Jack poured a glass of wine for everyone.
“I’ll go and get changed.” I started for the door.
“Wait.” Jack took hold of my arm. “We need a photo first.”
“Great idea.” Tony took out his phone. “You and Jill stand over there, and hold the trophy between you.”
It was futile to argue, so I did as he said.
“Okay! Say fangs!”
Chapter 13
The tiny cosplay trophy now had pride of place on our mantelpiece. I’d suggested putting (hiding) it in the spare bedroom, but Jack wouldn’t hear of it. That man just loved his trophies.
Speaking of which, he’d left home at the crack of dawn to take part in an all-day ten-pin bowling competition. I thought he’d want me to go along and support him, but he said that I’d just be a distraction. I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not.
Probably not.
It was just as well he didn’t want me there because I already had a full day ahead of me. Like an idiot, I’d agreed to have Sunday lunch at my mother’s house, and then another one at my father’s. If I’d had any sense, I would have told my mother that I already had something arranged, but I’d been worried about how she might react. Fortunately, I had a little time between the two meals. I was due at my mother’s house at midday, and at my father’s at two. If I restricted how much I ate during the first lunch, I should still be able to eat at least some of the second one.
What is it they say about the best laid plans?
When I magicked myself to GT, I had to make sure that I landed right outside my mother’s house. If my father or Blodwyn saw me, I would have some explaining to do.
“You’re a little early.” My mother gave me a hug. “Lunch will be another ten minutes.”
“Is it okay if I just have a small portion?”
“Why ever would you want a small portion? Look at yourself. You’re all skin and bone.”
If my mother honestly thought I was ‘all skin and bone’, she needed to get her eyes checked. If anything, I was a little heavier than I would have liked, but I put that down to Jack’s cooking.
“My tummy has been a little iffy. I don’t want to overdo it.”
“Okay, a small portion it is.”
“Jill!” Alberto joined us. “Why don’t I show you my garden gnomes while we’re waiting?”
“Yeah.” My mother nodded. “He has an impressive collection.”
“Sure, why not?” And there was I thinking that nothing could possibly top the excitement of the cosplay convention.
Alberto led the way through the house, out of the French doors, and into the beautifully-maintained garden.
“What a lot of gnomes. How long have you been collecting them?”
“Ever since I arrived in GT. They all have names.”
Oh boy!
“Your mother named that one ‘Jill’. She thought it looked like you.”
“The one with the big nose?”
“It has such a lovely smile, don’t you think?”
“My nose isn’t that big.”
If this was my mother’s idea of a small portion, I was glad she hadn’t given me a large one.
“Gravy, Jill?” Alberto offered.
“Not for me, thanks.”
The meal looked and smelled delicious, and under different circumstances, I would probably have polished it off, but I had to leave room for lunch mark-two. My main concern was the two enormous Yorkshire puddings.
“That’s pretty.” I pointed to the clock on the far wall. While my mother and Alberto were distracted, I slipped the two Yorkshire puddings into my bag.
“The clock?” My mother turned back to me.
“Yes. I really like the—err—minute hand. The hour hand is very nice too.”
I ignored their puzzled looks.
“Do you have to leave so soon?” My mother was clearing the table. “Your lunch has barely had time to settle. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”
“I haven’t shown you all of my gnomes yet,” Alberto said.
“I’d love to stay longer, but I promised to meet up with Mad while I’m here. Maybe next time.”
I hoped they would just see me to the door, but they came outside, so I had to walk up the street, in the opposite direction to my father’s house. When they finally went back inside, I turned around and raced back down the street.
“Jill?” My father greeted me. “You look exhausted. Are you okay?”
“Fine, tha
nks.”
“Hello, Jill.” Blodwyn joined us.
“Thanks for inviting me, Blodwyn.”
“It’s our pleasure.”
“Do you think I could just have a small serving?”
“Small?” My father jumped in. “There are no small servings in this house, are there, Blod?”
“It’s just that my tummy has been a little iffy, and I don’t want to overdo it.”
“Oh dear. I won’t give you too much in that case,” Blodwyn said. “Let me take your coat.”
As I put my bag down, it fell over, and the two Yorkshire puddings rolled out onto the floor. My father and Blodwyn exchanged a puzzled glance.
“Err—I thought I—err better bring my own Yorkshire puddings, just in case you didn’t make any. I can’t eat a Sunday lunch without a Yorkshire pudding.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you.” Blodwyn was no doubt trying to humour the crazy woman. “It’s okay, though, because I have made Yorkshire puddings.”
“I guess I’ll take these back for Jack, then.”
More puzzled expressions ensued.
“Or I could just throw them in the bin.”
This was getting off to such an auspicious start.
“Would you like to meet the dogs while Blodwyn puts the finishing touches to lunch?” my father asked.
“I didn’t realise you had any.”
“They were Blodwyn’s originally. Come and meet them.”
As soon as we stepped out into the back garden, the two dogs came charging over. Fortunately, the corgis weren’t big enough to do any real harm when they jumped up at me.
“That’s Daff, and this one is Dill.”
“Oh? They’re sweet.”
“Sweet, but very crafty. We have to leave them in the garden while we eat our meals, otherwise they’d be begging for food all the time.”
“Lunch is served!” Blodwyn called through the window.
It seemed that she shared my mother’s inability to understand the meaning of the word ‘small’ because my plate was overflowing.
“Are those Yorkshire puddings alright for you, Jill?”
“Lovely, thanks.”
“I gave you three, seeing as how you’re so fond of them.”