Witch Is How Berries Tasted Good

by Adele Abbott

  “We’re really sorry to bother you.” Joey had his arm around Zoe’s shoulder.

  “You’d better come inside. It’s cold out there.”

  The two sand sloths shared a single chair at the kitchen table.

  “I’ll make a cup of tea while you talk to them.” Jack began to fill the kettle. “Do sand sloths drink tea?”

  “I don’t know.” I turned to Joey. “Do you drink tea?”

  “No, but a bowl of water would be nice.”

  “They’ll just have a bowl of water.”

  “Okay, coming up.”

  “What brings you here in the middle of the night, Joey?” I said.

  “We’ve just got back, but someone has removed our home.”

  “You’ve been gone for months. We assumed you’d moved on.”

  “We went to stay with my sister, Chloe, in Leeds, and we kind of lost track of the time.”

  “I’ll say.”

  “Where’s our sandpit gone?”

  “There you go.” Jack put a bowl of water on the table, and both Joey and Zoe began to lap it up feverishly.

  “We had it removed,” I said. “We thought you’d gone for good.”

  Joey wiped his lips. “Where will we live now?”

  “There must be other sandpits around here.”

  “Will you help us to find one? It’s really dangerous for us after dark. There are so many predators lurking.”

  “What’s he saying?” Jack joined us at the table.

  “He wants us to help them to find another sandpit.”

  “Now?”

  “It’s either that or let them stay in the house tonight.”

  Jack whispered in my ear, “They smell.”

  He was right. Cute as they were, the sand sloths gave off a rather unpleasant odour.

  “Okay. We’ll help you, but we’ll need to get changed first.”

  Jack and I left the two little creatures in the kitchen while we went upstairs to get dressed.

  “How are we supposed to find a sandpit?” Jack said.

  “I don’t know. Drive around until we spot one, I suppose.”

  “We’ll never see one from the road. They’re always in the back gardens.”

  “We’ll think of something.”

  Once we were dressed, Joey and Zoe followed us out of the house.

  “We’ll take your car,” I said.

  “No chance.” Jack blocked my way. “I don’t want that smell in my car.”

  “It’s a good job they don’t know what you’re saying. Okay, we’ll take mine.”

  I drove to the next village because I figured that we were less likely to be recognised there.

  “Go on, then,” I said, after pulling up in a cul-de-sac on a new housing estate.

  “Me?” Jack looked horrified. “Why me?”

  “You were the one who wanted me to drive, and besides, if anyone sees you, you can flash your warrant card, and tell them you’re looking for burglars.”

  “Dressed like this?” He was wearing one of his bowling shirts and a pair of shorts.

  “Tell them you’re undercover.”

  He climbed out of the car, and then started at one end of the street, and worked his way down. I was beginning to think we were out of luck when he emerged from behind the last house, but then he gave me the thumbs up.

  “Okay. This is your new home.” I jumped out of the car and let Joey and Zoe out of the back. “Good luck, you two.”

  “Thanks, Jill.” Joey took Zoe’s hand, and they disappeared down the driveway.

  “Sometimes, I think I preferred it when I didn’t know you were a witch,” Jack said when he got back into the car. “Life was so much simpler then.”

  “For you, maybe.”

  ***

  When I got up the next morning, I felt sleep-deprived. Jack didn’t look much better.

  “You and your brilliant ideas,” he said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You were the one who suggested getting rid of the sandpit.”

  “How was I supposed to know that Joey and Zoe would be back? And besides, I don’t want them living in our back garden.”

  “I just hope no one saw me last night or I’ll have some explaining to do.”

  “Just tell them you were helping to rehome a couple of sand sloths.”

  “You’re hilarious. Oh, by the way, I meant to mention that I took a look at the hit-and-run you asked about. There’s nothing to suggest it was deliberate. They found the car burnt out a few miles away. Looks like joy-riders.”

  “Why do they call it that?”

  “Don’t ask me. There’s rarely much joy involved.”

  “Thanks for checking, anyway.”

  “I’d like you to do me a favour in return.”

  “Do we have time?”

  “Not that kind of favour. I should have paid the final bill for the reception yesterday, but I forgot all about it. Can you drop by there today and pay it?”

  “Why me?”

  “Because I’m going to be in West Chipping all day, and it’s on your way into work.”

  “Okay, I suppose so.”

  “You should try to get them to give you a bit of a discount while you’re at it.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “To compensate for the smell of cat. I noticed it during the ceremony and at the reception. A few other people mentioned it too. I reckon they must have left a cat indoors overnight.”

  “Actually, that’s not what happened.”

  “It must have—. Hold on, you know something about it, don’t you?”

  “I might do.”

  “Come on. What do you know?”

  “You remember when Mikey dropped out from being a pageboy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, I’d kind of promised Winky that if that happened, he could take his place.”

  “Have a cat as a pageboy?”

  “Pagecat.”

  “There’s no such thing.”

  “I only promised him because I didn’t think there was any chance it would happen. But then, when it did, I didn’t know how to let him down. I did try to send him to the wrong hotel, but he realised and found us anyway. He did look very smart, though.”

  “How come I didn’t see him there?”

  “I couldn’t let anyone see him because they would have thought I was crazy.”

  “You think?”

  “I made him invisible.”

  “Are you telling me that your invisible cat was at the ceremony and reception?”

  “When you say it like that, it sounds kind of weird, but yes, he walked behind Kathy and Lizzie down the aisle.”

  “You couldn’t make this stuff up.”

  ***

  Jack had already left by the time I set out for work.

  “Morning, Jill!” Mr Ivers shouted.

  “Morning, Mr Ivers.”

  “You really must start to call me Monty.”

  “Right.” Just then, I remembered what Pauline Maker had told me. “Have you been feeling okay, Mr—err—Monty?”

  “Never better. Firing on all cylinders.”

  “I was talking to Pauline from across the road. Her husband has been laid up with food poisoning. One or two of the other neighbours have gone down with it too.”

  “How terrible—I had no idea.”

  “Pauline mentioned that they’d all been to a barbecue at your place.”

  “I can’t believe it could be anything they ate at the barbecue or I would have been ill too. I’m always very careful when it comes to grilling meat.”

  “Is there anything the others ate that you didn’t?”

  “Nothing. Oh, there was one thing.” He started for the door. “Wait there a minute.” Moments later, he reappeared with a bowl of berries. “I don’t normally buy fruit because it brings me out in a rash, but these were on offer, so I got them for my guests. They seemed to go down very well.”

  “I don’t th
ink I’ve seen those before. What kind are they?”

  “Candleberries, apparently.”

  “I can’t say I’ve ever heard of them.”

  “Me neither. I really don’t think it could have been these that made the others ill.” He offered the bowl. “Would you like to try some?”

  “I don’t think I should.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “They do look nice, though. Maybe just a couple.” I grabbed a handful.

  What? Come on, you should know the couple rule by now.

  “They’re delicious.”

  “You can have the rest if you’d like them. I won’t be eating them.”

  “Okay, thanks. I’ll take them inside—Jack and I can have them after dinner tonight.”

  “I’d better get going, Jill. There’s lots of work still to do on my new business venture.”

  “Still not ready to tell me what it is?”

  “Sorry, but if I told you, I’d be forced to kill you.”

  ***

  I’d managed to get hold of the Bankses, and they’d agreed to meet with me at their house. Fortunately, they lived close to Washbridge Park Hotel, so I was able to nip in there first to pay the bill (no cat-odour reductions were requested).

  The Bankses had a delightful detached house located on a quiet tree-lined road. For reasons known only to them, they’d chosen to paint the front of the house in a sickly strawberry colour.

  Christine Banks answered the door and led me through to the conservatory where her husband was doing the Times crossword. After serving tea and biscuits, Christine joined us.

  “I went to see Annette’s flatmate, Gaye, yesterday.” I took a bite of shortbread (a poor substitute for custard creams, but I was feeling peckish).

  “Lovely girl.” Christine obviously approved.

  “She told me something that I found a little disconcerting.”

  “Does she know something about Annette?” Gordon said.

  “No. She told me that Annette had left a note, which she’d passed to you.”

  “Oh that.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

  “We thought if we did that you’d refuse to take the case. As soon as the police found out about it, they lost all interest.”

  “Do you have the note?”

  “I’ll fetch it.” Christine disappeared out of the room, and moments later, returned with it in her hand.

  The note was brief and to the point. “I’ll be honest with you. This seems to make it pretty clear that she wanted to get away because she was feeling stressed.”

  “What could she possibly have been stressed about?” Gordon said.

  “You’re going to find out sooner or later, so I may as well tell you now. Annette had been holding down a part-time job as well as going to college.”

  “She never said anything about a job to us.” Christine looked genuinely surprised.

  “She didn’t think you’d approve.”

  “Why would she take a job?” Gordon said. “We give her an allowance.”

  “She appreciated the help you give her, but it wasn’t enough to cover all of her expenses. It’s clear to me that she needs a little time away from the stresses of work and college. I’m sure she’ll come back when she’s had the chance to clear her head.”

  “It’s not like Annette,” Gordon said. “I just don’t buy it.”

  “Are you saying the note wasn’t written by your daughter?”

  “No, that’s definitely Annette’s handwriting, but I still think there’s more to it. I’d like you to stay on the case.”

  “But you’ll be wasting your money.”

  “It’s ours to waste.”

  “Fair enough, but you must understand that I can’t force your daughter to come home against her will.”

  “Of course not, but if you could at least find her, and confirm that she’s alright, that would give us peace of mind.”

  “Okay, I’ll stick with it for now.”

  ***

  I’d skipped breakfast, so by the time I got into town, I was starving. For some unknown reason, I had a craving for a burger and fries, so I called in at Burger Bay.

  When I saw the length of the queues, I almost changed my mind, but my stomach insisted I stay. I would have used one of the self-order machines, but they all had ‘out of order’ notices stuck to them.

  When I eventually made it to the front of the queue, the spotty young man behind the counter looked as though he would have chosen to be anywhere but there.

  “Can I get a cheeseburger, fries and a diet coke, please?”

  “That will be four pounds-twenty, please.”

  I handed him the cash. “What’s wrong with the self-order machines?”

  “They’ve never been right since they installed them. The old ones were much better.”

  “What’s wrong with them?”

  “We keep getting ‘ghost’ orders coming through.”

  “How do you mean: ‘ghost’ orders?”

  “Orders that no one has placed. Sometimes, even when we have no customers in the shop, an order will come through. It got to the point where we didn’t know which orders were real and which weren’t. The supplier’s been trying to sort them out for ages, but I don’t think they have a clue what’s wrong with them.”

  “Right, thanks.” I took my food, grabbed a table in sight of the counter, and made a call.

  “Pearl, it’s Jill.”

  “Hi, Jill.”

  “Can you do something for me?”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “Can you go on one of the self-order machines and place an order for nuggets, fries and a chocolate milkshake?”

  “Why?”

  “Humour me, please.”

  “Okay. I’ll just put the phone down.”

  I watched the counter, and sure enough, moments later, I saw the terminal spring into life. The spotty young man noticed it too and shook his head.

  “Excuse me!” I shouted to him. “Is that another ‘ghost’ order?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can you tell me what it’s for?”

  He obviously thought I was a nutter, but ripped off the slip and handed it to me. “It’s no good to us, anyway.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Jill!” Pearl was back on the phone. “I’ve done it. Do you want to tell me what this is all about?”

  “All in good time. Thanks, Pearl. Bye.”

  While I ate my meal, I kept a lookout for one of the managers.

  “Excuse me.”

  “Yes, Madam. How can I help?”

  “Do you happen to have the contact details for the people who supplied your self-order machines?”

  “If you’re thinking of buying some, I wouldn’t bother. They’re next to useless.”

  “Still, I’d like the contact details if you have them.”

  “Okay. Wait there while I dig them out.”

  Chapter 6

  When I arrived at the office, I was momentarily puzzled by the amount of activity down the corridor, but then I remembered that it was Escape’s press day.

  “I wish you’d told me that you were expecting a large parcel, Jill,” Mrs V looked somewhat disgruntled.

  “I’m not.”

  “Well, one arrived thirty minutes ago, and it took two men to carry it up the stairs. They were absolutely exhausted, so I made them a cup of tea and gave them a scarf each.”

  “That was very kind of you. I’d better go and see what it is.”

  Winky was busy tearing open the large box.

  “Do you mind?” I tried to shoo him away. “I didn’t say you could open my parcels.”

  “This is mine. Look, it’s addressed to me.”

  The label read:

  Mr W. Inky

  c/o Gooder & Maxwell.

  “What’s with the Gooder & Maxwell?”

  “That’s what the sign says, isn’t it? Stand back and let me finish unpacking it.”

  Wh
en he’d taken the machine out of the box, I was none the wiser. “What is it?”

  “It’s a state-of-the-art digital knitting machine.”

  “And you want that for—?”

  “Seeing as how the old bag lady has refused to include me in her tapestry, I’m going to produce one of my own.”

  “This should be good.” I laughed.

  “It won’t be good, it will be amazing. Have you seen her tapestry? It’s rubbish. It’s just lots of little blocks of colour which are supposed to look like you and her. Pah!”

  “How do you know what it looks like?”

  “I’m all seeing. You should know that by now. Anyway, my tapestry will be produced from digitised images of actual photographs.”

  “So that’s why you wanted a photo of me yesterday?”

  “Yes, but I did put it on Instagram as well.”

  “Have I got any more likes, by the way.”

  “I’ll check.” He took out his phone. “Oh dear.”

  “What?”

  “FollowMeImDesperate has cancelled his like. Presumably he changed his mind because you didn’t follow him back.”

  “As if I care. What’s this lot going to cost you?”

  “Not much. I’ve got the machine on one-week’s free trial. I’ll return it before the week is out.”

  “That’s dishonest.”

  “I prefer to think of it as tactical smarts.”

  “The wool will still cost you a pretty penny. You can’t get that on a free trial.”

  “I don’t need to. I’ll use the Everlasting Wool subscription.”

  “Since when did you have a subscription to Everlasting Wool?”

  “I don’t, but the old bag lady does, and I know her log-in details.”

  “Do you have no scruples?”

  “Nah, I sold them on eBay.”

  “That machine looks very complicated. Are you sure you’ll be able to work it?”

  “Course. Piece of cake.”

  Winky’s expression suddenly changed, and he scurried under the sofa. I was just about to ask him what was wrong when I noticed the temperature had dropped.

  “Morning, Jill.” The colonel appeared with Priscilla on his arm.

  “Morning, you two. I haven’t seen you for a while.”

  “I hear you’ve gone and got yourself married in the meantime.”