Amanda Cadabra and The Cellar of Secrets

by Holly Bell

  She walked into the office, and, with a deep breath, through into the lab. It was bare, just walls, and floor and … George.

  ‘George? Why are you here?’ she asked curiously.

  ‘I’m waiting for Vi. She hasn’t come yet. We always meet in here. Vi likes the fire.’

  ‘Violet?’

  ‘Yes. She said she’d come. I can’t go without my Violet,’ he said anxiously.

  Amanda had a thought.

  ‘OK, George, I’ll see if I can find her for you.’

  ‘Thanks, er, I don’t know your name.’

  ‘Amanda. Amanda Cadabra.’

  He grinned. ‘You’re magic.’

  She smiled, nodded, and went out to the car. Amanda pulled her phone from her pocket.

  ‘Gwendolen? Could you come with me again, please, to the residential home?’

  ‘Yes. Now?’

  ‘Please. And do you think you could ask Violet to talk to me for a minute?

  ‘Of course, dear. Give me ten minutes to wash my hands and put on my hat.’

  Having driven to The Grange, Amanda opened the passenger door. As she got in, Miss Armstrong-Witworth said, ‘What a relief it’s all over. Did you assist the police with their enquiries?’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied, gladly.

  ‘Well done finding the radio and the papers. His father … it’s all such a shame …. Shame that has hung like a pall over the very ruins all these years. Shame: that’s what his wife and son felt. And carried it with them all their lives until it drove poor Robin to murder …. Terrible thing.’ Gwendolen shook her head. ‘So needless.’

  They were soon at Pipkin Acres, and seated in Violet’s neat, comfortable room again.

  ‘Hello, Violet.’

  ‘Hello, Gwennie,’ she answered in a faint voice.

  ‘You know me?’

  ‘I know you Gwennie,’ she answered, slightly nodding her delicate little head framed in its fine white hair.

  ‘I’ve brought someone to see you,’ explained Gwendolen. ‘A young lady. Her name is Amanda. I think she’s got some news for you.’

  ‘Oh, all right,’ Violet said weakly, looked doubtful.

  Gwendolen nodded to Amanda to take her place at the bedside. Amanda took the frail hand gently.

  ‘Hello, Violet. I’ve got a message for you … from George.’

  ‘My Georgie?’ The clouded eyes brightened. ‘You’ve seen my Georgie?’

  ‘Yes, Violet. He’s waiting for you. He’s there now, in your favourite room with the fire, waiting for you to come to him.’

  ‘It’s been such a long time,’ she said sadly.

  ‘But he’s never stopped,’ said Amanda. ‘He’s always been there. And now. I think you can go to him. If you want to.’

  ‘I want to …. Who are you?’

  ‘I’m Amanda.’

  Violet put up her hand to Amanda’s cheek.

  ‘What a lovely girl you are. You’ve got sparkles all around you … hmm.’ She stroked Amanda’s hair, and then her eyes closed and her hand relaxed.

  Amanda looked up at Gwendolen. ‘Is it all right to go now?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Quickly, Amanda drove Miss Armstrong-Witworth back, in silence.

  ‘Thank you, Gwendolen.’

  ‘That’s all right, dear. Off you go.’

  Amanda raced to the Centre and entered reception. ‘OK to go to the lab?’ she asked Bill.

  ‘Sure.’

  She hurried in.

  ‘George, I think Vi ….’ But the air beside them was already softly gleaming, as the form of a young woman, a young Violet, as she had been all of those years ago, took shape. Her smooth skin was glowing, her blue eyes were wide and bright under long black lashes, and her dark bronze hair lay in soft rolls on her shoulders. A green dress flowed around her lithe figure, as she ran to him.

  ‘Georgie!’

  ‘My girl!’

  The distance between them in time, in years, in space, closed as they embraced.

  Amanda looked away and gave them their moment.

  Finally, she said to George, ‘You can go now, can’t you?’

  ‘Yes, we can,’ he said, holding Violet’s hand. She looked at Amanda curiously, and George said, ‘This is Gwen’s friend, Vi.’

  ‘Hello, Violet.’

  Violet came forward and took Amanda’s hand.

  ‘I know you, don’t I?’

  ‘Yes, Violet, you do.’

  ‘Yes.’ She stroked Amanda’s cheek. ‘You’re a lovely girl.’

  ‘Have a happy life together,’ said Amanda.

  ‘Oh, we will,’ confirmed George. ‘We’re going to Canada.’

  Violet smiled. ‘We’ll make a new start.’

  Amanda didn’t need to perform the spell. A door opened in the wall. George turned to her.

  ‘Thanks for finding my Violet, Amanda.’

  ‘All I had to do was tell her that you were waiting and she came right away,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, I did,’ agreed the smiling Violet.

  Amanda waved. ‘Bye.’

  ‘Bye, dear.’

  They stepped through, and the door closed, shutting in the light with them.

  Chapter 50

  Invitation, and Golden Rules

  Amanda went to the café, sat with hot chocolate, and, for the first time in the past chaotic days, felt sad for Toby. Then again, he was probably happy as a king, with a whole new dimension to explore.

  Well, she still had a lot of therapy to try but she was glad there was going to be a little gap. She needed time. Time to process all that had happened over the summer.

  Suddenly she longed for the workshop. For the normality of restoration. Well, normality for Amanda, and, of course that did involve wielding tools and equipment by spellcraft, and making furniture levitate around the room, but, relatively speaking.

  And she had learning to do. Yes, magical weightlifting and practicing to do two things at once that needed concentration. She couldn’t afford to be blasé or get stuck in a mystical rut. Especially after all the waves she’d made.

  Amanda returned home, and was walking through the hall when her phone rang. She looked at the caller ID: D I. Trelawney.

  ‘Hello, Inspector,’ said Amanda, rather pleased.

  ‘Hello, Miss Cadabra. I was just calling to see if you’ve recovered from all of the excitement surrounding the murder.’

  ‘Yes, thank you. Of course, naturally, everything seems sadly dull by comparison but, truth to tell, I’m enjoying a taste of normality.’

  ‘Good, glad to hear it. By the way, I’d like the tour sometime, if it’s still on offer.’

  ‘Of course,’ she replied enthusiastically. Inspiration dawned. ‘I’ve just had a brainwave. Why don’t you come for Halloween? Bonfire, fireworks, see how the local yokels keep the celebration of All Hallows.’

  ‘That would be delightful. However,’ said Trelawney with regret, ‘I’m afraid Halloween is a particularly busy time for me.’

  ‘What? Slaving over a hot cauldron all night?’

  ‘I mean for us coppers.’

  ‘Oh? Witches abroad?’ Amanda asked teasingly.

  ‘No, more like pranksters and drunks.’

  ‘Ah, I see. Well ... how about if you visit for the Feast of St Ursula of the Orchard? On 17th November. It’s a Saturday. It’s a local festival, with food and cider.’

  ‘Er … sounds, er, unique.’

  ‘Oh, it is, believe me.’

  ‘Yes, I would like that very much, Miss Cadabra. I can hardly wait to hear the story behind that.’

  ‘It’s a good one!’

  ‘Till the 17th then,’ said Trelawney.

  ‘Come up for mid-day if you can.’

  ‘I will be at your door on the stroke of twelve,’ he affirmed.

  ‘You’ll enjoy it, I’m sure. Thank you for calling to see how I am.’

 
‘You’re welcome. Goodbye.’

  ‘Bye for now.’

  Amanda ended the call. She looked at her phone meditatively.

  ‘Hmm,’ she said aloud, evaluating her emotional state. ‘I’m pleased. Yes, ... I’m pleased,’ Amanda decided .and continued her journey through the kitchen and up the path between the fruit trees, shedding the very last of the plums and late pears.

  Granny and Grandpa were in the workshop with Tempest. He was sitting on the workbench having a staring match with Senara. Yellow versus blue. It was the only sense in which they saw eye to eye.

  ‘So,’ said Granny, ‘what have you learned? Remember your Golden Rules?’

  Amanda recited them:

  ‘One: keep my Pocket-wand on me at all times. I do, and yes, I will write to Dr Bergstrom for a spare.

  ‘Two: always use the least powerful spell possible.

  ‘Three: look for potential allies and expect the best from people, but allow them to earn my trust rather than giving it away, however strong the impulse.

  ‘Four: be sensitive to any strange feelings I may experience when casting a spell. Well, I certainly am now.

  ‘And five: always carry a tin of caviar for the purposes of bribery.’

  ‘And what new ones do you have?’ asked Granny.

  ‘Six: don’t drop my Pocket-wand in public!

  ‘Seven: carry two pairs of DIY gloves. I gave mine to Trelawney, and scrabbling away clearing a bigger hole in that rubble did my hands no good.

  ‘Eight: if I have to time-travel, make sure I have the proper currency. Fortunately, I was saved by the air raid siren!

  ‘Nine: I must never be complacent about my magical skills, and must keep expanding them. I can’t believe that piano didn’t come down on me.’

  ‘You had help, dear.’

  ‘Oh, thank you, Granny and Grandpa.’

  ‘No, bian, not from us,’ Perran corrected her.

  ‘Who? George?’

  ‘Your inspector.’

  ‘What? He’s not my … Of course, yes, we did say, I’d need some muscle. Yes, and another time he might not be around. I’d better get practicing my levitation.’

  ‘Is there a number ten?’ asked Grandpa.

  Amanda suddenly thought of Gwendolen Armstrong-Witworth, former spy on behalf of Her Majesty’s Secret Service.

  ‘Yes. Number ten: never make assumptions about people, especially ones you might think of as elderly. Hmm, there’s no such thing as “a sweet little old lady”.’

  ‘Excellent progress, dear,’ said Granny.

  ‘You’ve done very well, bian,’ Grandpa praised her.

  ‘So have I passed Magical Sleuthing 201?’ she asked, mischievously.

  ‘You have, Ammy. Very well done. But —’

  ‘But I made waves,’ she finished. ‘And there could be consequences.’

  ‘Just so,’ replied Granny calmly. ‘You have magic to practice.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘We’ll help you,’ said Grandpa, reassuringly.

  ‘So you’ve seen the happy couple off have you, dear?’ asked Granny.

  ‘Yes.’ Amanda paused. ‘To Canada. George says they’re going to Canada. Can they do that? I mean, do you have Canada in your dimension?’

  ‘Of course they can do that. They can go anywhere they like, at any time. You’d be surprised at what we have here.’

  ‘Well, I can see you have tea. And Victoria sandwich and crumpets and scones and clotted cream and jam and —‘

  ‘Oh yes, dear,’ said Granny with a glimmering smile. ‘It’s absolute heaven.’

  Chapter 51

  Heiress

  It was Saturday morning, so blue and gold a day that Amanda was setting off early for her favourite spot with Tempest. In her hand was a picnic basket holding roast beef, mustard and cress sandwiches, ginger beer, and a mini apple pie for her, and some extra meat for him. She opened the front door to Joan, who was about to press the doorbell, once she got her fingers around the wisteria branches.

  ‘Hello, love, look what I’ve got for you!’ said Joan with glee.

  Amanda looked at the white padded bag the postlady was holding, and said prosaically, ‘Looks like it could be those special brackets I‘ve ordered for the —’

  ‘No!’ interrupted Joan. ‘It’s from Germany! From your young man!’

  ‘What young man?’

  ‘Hugo, of course,’ replied Joan, as though stating the obvious.

  ‘How do you know it’s from Hugo?’ asked Amanda.

  ‘It says on the back his name and address in Bavaria, from his village.’

  ‘Ah.’ Amanda’s pulse quickened a little. What could he have sent her?

  ‘There,’ said Joan, putting the package into Amanda’s hands. ‘You take it with you to the priory.’

  ‘How did you know …?’ Amanda stopped. Why was she even asking?

  ‘When you take a picnic and a book and Tempest, we all know you’re off for a bit of peace, in your little place up there,’ Joan answered kindly.

  ‘I see. Thank you, Joan, but, actually,’ said Amanda, deciding that she had quite enough to think about for the moment, ‘I’ll leave it here, and look at it later.’ She leaned back into the hall and placed the package on the table to the left of the door.

  ‘Just as you like, dear.’

  Amanda drove up Orchard Row, turned left into Hog Lane, then left again into Priory Lane, where she parked. She was just in time to be spotted by Sylvia, off duty from her road duties, as it was the weekend, and there were no schoolchildren to squire across the street.

  ‘’Ello, dearie.’

  ‘Hello, Sylvia,’ Amanda greeted her pleasantly.

  ‘’Ow you recovering after all the excitement? Didn’t you do well digging up the spy’s suitcase, ’n’ all! You won’t have to go to testify in court, will you?’

  ‘No, Sylvia. And yes, thank you, I’m enjoying getting back to normal.’

  ‘Well, Jane wants to see you sometime. She’s got plans. For the church, I think. She says you’re the one to talk to. When you’ve got time.’

  ‘All right. I’ll pop in to see her. Maybe tomorrow.’ The rector would definitely be around on a Sunday.

  ‘’Ow’s your young man?’

  ‘Sorry? Mr Ford —’

  ‘No, no, the other one.’

  ‘Hugo went back to Germany,’ she reminded Sylvia.

  ‘No no, and not the one who got himself murdered neither. The nice chap in the suit.’

  ‘Ah. Him. He’s not my young man.’ said Amanda firmly.

  ‘Oh, too bad. Never mind. If you don’t fancy ’im, there’s a new one coming, ’im and his sister. Oh, look there’s Gordon, I must have a word with ’im …’

  Amanda hurried off before anyone else could waylay her. She climbed up to her seat at the top of what was once the night stairs. Here she was away from all the comings and goings and gossip, and yet still able to see her neighbours moving about the village, and through the trees and fields.

  She glanced over her shoulder toward Madley Wood, Little Madley, restored to peace, she hoped, with the traitor brought to light. What a summer it had been!

  Now deep golds and russets of autumn were all around. Soon it would be time for Guy Fawkes Night; bonfires and fireworks. Fireworks. She’d had enough of that for now. Then it would be November and the Blessing of the Apples and Trelawney’s visit.

  She stroked Tempest. ‘My first real murder. Sad and exciting. Is that wrong? It’s like I’ve … yes, as Aunt Amelia said, I’ve crossed the Rubicon.’ Granny didn’t have to say it: there would be more coming her way. And they hadn’t said this either: there was more that she needed to remember. And now she knew she was heiress to sinister Cardiubarn Hall.

  The wind blew cold for a moment. She looked to the West, toward Cornwall, and shivered.

  The wind dropped. On the other hand, that’s where her new Uncle Mike and
Trelawney were. So there must be good things about it.

  The sun felt warm again.

  ‘It’s my birthplace, after all.’ She looked down at her village, surrounded by its Wood and its apple orchards. ‘But this will always be home. I live in the witch’s cottage, that’s my rightful place. But one day ... ’

  She looked in her mind’s eye across the 400 miles, beyond the Wessex Downs, across the river Tamar and there, on Bodmin Moor, by the Dozmary Pool, to Cardiubarn Hall.

  ‘Yes. One day … I’ll be back,’ said Amanda Cadabra.

  The End

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for reading Amanda Cadabra and The Cellar of Secrets. I hope you enjoyed your time in Sunken Madley and it’s lost and found annexe.

  Whether this was your first visit to the village or your return trip, I would love you to tell me your thoughts about your journey through the book. And if you could write a review, that would be of tremendous help. You can post in on the e-store where you bought the book (if you’re not sure how to post a review on Amazon, here is a how-to on my website) or on Facebook, Twitter or your social platform of choice. It would mean a great deal to me.

  Best of all would be if you dropped me a line at HollyBell@amandacadabra.com so we can connect in person. If there is a character you especially liked or anything you would like more of, please let me know. Amanda Cadabra Book 3 is in the pipeline, and I want to make sure that all of the things that you liked about the first two books make an appearance for you.

  For tidbits on the world of Sunken Madley and to keep up with news of the continuing adventures of our heroes Amanda, Tempest, Granny and Grandpa, Trelawney and Hogarth, visit www.amandacadabra.com, where you can also request to enter the VIP Readers Group or sign up for the newsletter to stay in touch and find out about the next sequel. The VIP Readers is a limited numbers group. Members are invited to receive and review an advance copy of the next book. If you are one of that treasured number, thank you for reading, evaluating and giving your precious feedback.

  If Tempest has endeared himself to you and reminds you of your cat or one you know, in any way, you are invited to enter a photograph in The Tempest Competition. Details are at http://amandacadabra.com/the-tempest-competition/