by R K Dreaming
“We’d better hope the conclave catch Fred and George Sheedy soon,” said Felix in his usual calm manner. “It isn’t safe for Juliet to stay here for too long.”
Percy wondered if he was worried he wouldn’t be able to keep this a secret from his Eldritch Council bosses for too long.
“Small chance of that!” said Gwendolyn scathingly. “They’ve done a terrible botch job of it so far. I plan on speaking to the High Minister of the Conclave himself now that I’m back in London, and then we’ll see them pull up their socks and start doing a proper job!”
“Mum,” said Percy darkly. “Do you really think that it’s a good idea to have Juliet Jolie in our house?”
“And whyever not?” said Gwendolyn sharply.
Percy glared. “Because you’re famous yourself? Because now that you’re home the paparazzi will be trying to snap as many shots of you as they can? How exactly are you planning on hiding her?”
Gwendolyn Prince got a gleam in her eyes. “Don’t you worry about that,” she said. “I have got the perfect plan.”
3. The Perfectly Wonky Plan
Gwendolyn’s perfect plan did not get off to a good start. The next morning, a Sunday, Gwendolyn Prince swept into Percy’s bedroom without so much as knocking.
“Darling, wake up!” she said, shaking Percy like the house was on fire.
Percy groaned, and opened one eyelid a peek. When she registered that her room was too dark for it to possibly be dawn yet, she rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.
“I said wake up!” commanded Gwendolyn, shaking Percy harder. “We’ve been robbed!”
That woke Percy up with a start. She sat bolt upright in bed and stared at her mother.
“Robbed?” she croaked.
“Robbed!” Gwendolyn said in a despairing voice.
Percy shot out of bed and ran to her door. “Is Mrs Jolie all right?” she asked urgently.
Looking alarmed, Gwendolyn said, “Hush!”
She hurried over to the door, pulled Percy away from it, and shut it surprisingly gently. There was a furtive look about her that did not make sense.
Percy now noticed that Gwendolyn was carrying a glass jar in her hand, which looked like it was stuffed full of what might have been on old red wig. Percy grimaced at the sight.
“What’s that?”
Gwendolyn glanced at the jar. “Never mind that,” she said impatiently. “Come with me.”
Gwendolyn opened the door quietly as if afraid of waking someone up, and tiptoed down the corridor into her own bedroom.
Following her, Percy said, “I thought we’d been robbed? What did they steal?”
Gwendolyn frowned and put a finger against her lips. “Juliet must not find out about this. It’s a family secret.”
“Really? How come you never told me about a secret?”
“Hush!”
“Why are you up this early anyway?” asked Percy irritably, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Will you be quiet?” hissed her mum, shushing Percy until they had got back into her bedroom and shut the door after them.
Still in a low voice, she said, “I don’t want you to wake Juliet. She had a nightmare about Brad. Being in a strange house can’t have helped. She was so anxious about it that the poor thing came to wake me up. If she doesn’t rest, she’ll be grouchy all day. I’ve only just put her back to bed with a sleeping draught to help her on her way.”
“Then she’s hardly likely to wake up from our voices, is she?” said Percy.
“You never know,” said Gwendolyn. “Take nothing for granted. Especially when it comes to our… secret.”
Percy was looking around her mother’s room, expecting to find it in disarray as if a burglar had ripped their way through it. But everything was as neat as it ever had been, except for the slightly rumpled bedcovers.
Her mother saw the direction of Percy’s glance. She waved her wand and muttered an incantation. The duvet straightened itself.
“You said we’d been robbed?” said Percy.
Her mother nodded. With a grim look on her face she stalked into her walk-in wardrobe, an immense affair which contained Gwendolyn’s massive collection of clothing and shoes.
She knelt down beside a rack of floor-length evening gowns. Reaching beneath their trailing hems, she pulled out a carved wooden chest.
She flung open the lid, and cried in despairing tones, “Look!”
Percy looked. She recognized the wooden chest, and began to feel a bit of dread in the pit of her stomach.
A few days ago she had been in here looking for something to wear because all of her own clothes had been in the laundry. She had accidentally knocked over this very wooden chest, and smashed and old jar inside it that had been full of old bones.
And she had taken something from it that she ought not have.
There had been an envelope hidden at the bottom of the chest, containing an old photo of her father. The photo was now in Percy’s school bag, and Percy had a horrible feeling that her mother was about to yell at her for stealing it.
It wasn’t theft really. That’s what she would say to defend herself. She had only borrowed it. Surely she had a right to be curious?
Trust Gwendolyn to be so melodramatic over a missing photo.
But to her surprise Gwendolyn was pointing to the empty spot where the broken jar had been. She seemed not to have noticed the missing envelope. Maybe she thought it was still underneath all the smaller jars full of random stuff like old hair and blood and teeth and things.
“What’s the problem?” asked Percy in a voice that was a bit more squeaky than she had intended.
Gwendolyn heard Percy’s nervousness immediately. “Did you take it?” she said sharply.
“The jar?” Percy shook her head. “It was an accident. It broke. Sorry.”
Gwendolyn’s hands flew to her mouth in shock, and her eyes opened very wide.
It was a comical expression that Percy had never seen on her mother’s face before.
“And the bones?” Gwendolyn asked in a shaky voice.
Percy shrugged. “Erm, I lost them.”
Her mother let out an alarming wail.
“I didn’t mean to!” said Percy in an equally high voice. “I picked them all up and I was going to put them in another jar for you, but they sort of… Disappeared.”
Her mother gasped. In stricken tones she said, “This is terrible! You don’t know what you’ve done!”
“It was only some stupid old bones. What were you keeping them in a jar for anyway? Talk about creepy. And why have you got all these jars full of awful crap?”
“This is our family heritage!” said Gwendolyn in ringing tones. “Which I had intended to pass on to you one day if you had been… If you had been…”
“A witch?” said Percy sourly. “Well I’m not, so get over it. Your daughter is a Meek. She doesn’t have any wand-magic to speak of. I thought we both knew that by now?”
Her mother sniffed as if Percy was being unfair. “We don’t know that. There is still time.”
“There is no time, mum!” said Percy angrily. “Little witches and wizards show their magic even when they’re babies. Or definitely before they’re ten years old. Nan showed signs when she was two. I’m fifteen, mom. Let’s face it. It is not going to happen!”
Gwendolyn’s face fell. She refused to respond to Percy’s outburst.
She sank onto her knees next to her wooden chest and clutched it, gazing despairingly into the contents.
Normally at this stage Percy would have stomped out, and she and her mother would not have spoken again for days, sometimes even weeks.
But Percy found that she must’ve changed, because instead of stomping, she stayed exactly where she was, her hands crossed over her chest defensively.
“What was the big deal with that jar of bones anyway?” she said grudgingly.
“It was our family cat.”
“A cat?” said Percy incredulously. “
We don’t have the cat. We’ve never had a cat.”
“That is because he was in the jar,” said Gwendolyn.
“But I told you, it was just some old bones.” A thought occurred to Percy and her eyes opened wide in horror. She said with a gasp, “You didn’t… You didn’t stuff a cat in that jar, did you? You didn’t turn him into bones!”
“Of course not,” said Gwendolyn, rising to her feet again. “What sort of witch do you take me for?”
Percy sagged with relief. She started laughing. “Well, what was I supposed to think? After you said our cat was in a jar?”
“His name is Skrull, and we need to find him,” said Gwendolyn firmly. “Hopefully he is still in this house. Imagine if he’s escaped. Oh, the disgrace! And we will never catch him. I just know it. My mother would never have let me hear the end of it if she was still alive!”
“Do you mean… That those bones might’ve come back to life?” said Percy.
“I hope not,” said Gwendolyn in tones of horror. “We have to find him.”
“I’m not looking for a bony old cat! Can’t you find him with magic?”
“No, I cannot. Those spells won’t work on him. You lost him and you will help me find him!” Gwendolyn insisted. “Without him, we haven’t a hope in hell of keeping Juliet safe!”
“What do you mean? Is he supposed to guard her or something?” Percy gave a snort of laughter.
Gwendolyn did not so much as crack a smile. “You wouldn’t understand. Until that cat is found my plans for Juliet are in tatters. And if I have to stay in this house guarding her every minute of the day then so will you. Mark my words you’ll not be setting eyes on your friends again!”
“But I was supposed to go and see Nan today,” Percy whined.
“Then you’d better find him soon,” said Gwendolyn. She had a grim look on her face, and Percy knew she meant it.
Sulking, Percy stomped back to her bedroom to call Nan and cancel their plans.
She and Gwendolyn spent the rest of the day taking turns looking for Skrull. Percy had been unable to persuade Jeeves to help. He was sulking.
This was because Percy’s stomping had roused Juliet. Still extremely drowsy from the sleeping potion but too anxious to go back to sleep, she had insisted Gwendolyn give her an antidote.
Juliet had then upset Jeeves by insisting on eating her breakfast in the private lounge rather than in the dining room.
Jeeves had been waiting all night in the hopes of talking to her that morning, however he was not permitted to enter the private lounge. He had whispered to Percy that he suspected Juliet had taken a dislike to him.
He was also miffed that Juliet had not wanted any of the three different breakfasts he had painstakingly prepared – fluffy pancakes with berries and maple syrup, eggs royale with salmon on toasted muffins, and cinnamon pears on porridge. Juliet had asked for plain muesli and fresh fruit instead, and he hadn’t even got to have the joy of watching her eat it.
Percy had eaten all three breakfasts and had immediately regretted it. Three breakfasts were a bit much even for her.
So Percy did not complain when Gwendolyn said she would take the first shift of searching while Percy kept Juliet company in the private lounge. A fretful Juliet had insisted that she simply could not bear to be alone.
Percy had suspected Juliet would be no fun, and sitting with her proved it. When Percy had suggested they play cards or board games, Juliet had insisted that she could not concentrate on such things.
She had begged Percy to read to her, saying her mind needed to be occupied. Percy did not much like reading, especially the soppy romance that Juliet handed to her. It was about a dashing dastardly sea captain and a spirited sea witch maiden. As if there were any such things as sea witches. Witches were just witches! Percy kept scoffing, and Juliet kept throwing her dark looks.
Even worse, Juliet did not seem to be listening. She kept pacing, and throwing anguished glances out of the windows as if she might spot something untoward outside. And she jumped in fright every time that she heard a small sound, like a floorboard creaking in the old house, or a pipe rattling.
What felt like forever later, when Percy heard Gwendolyn come hurrying down the stairs, she immediately jumped up from the couch where she had been slumped with the stupid book. Anything was better than reading to Juliet, even searching for a bag of bones of a cat.
Juliet gave a cry of dismay when Percy made to leave the room.
“I won’t be long,” Percy promised.
She went into the kitchen where Gwendolyn was telling Jeeves that a simple lunch would do – much to his horror – since she needed him to help in the search.
Gwendolyn lowered her voice. “But first hurry down the garden to tell Mr Bramble that he must not come into the house while Juliet is staying here. If she catches a glimpse of him, we’ll never hear the end of it!”
Mr Bramble was a heg. He looked hardly any different to a wild little man, short and stout, except for his large dark eyes which had no whites. Tiny though they might be, many witches and wizards were afraid of hegs. Gwendolyn clearly thought his sudden appearance might be too much for Juliet’s nerves.
Mr Bramble sent a cheery message back saying that he was most pleased that Mrs Prince was home, and that he was sorry to hear about the poor health of her guest.
Since he did not enjoy meeting strangers, Percy knew that he would be more than happy to stay out of the way. Nor did he invite Gwendolyn to come and take tea with him, because he full well knew that crawling into his small underground abode would be beneath Gwendolyn’s dignity.
Percy volunteered to take her turn searching. Gwendolyn looked a bit suspicious about this sudden enthusiasm but did not object.
“You won’t be leaving this house until Skrull is found,” she warned, “so don’t even think about dawdling in your room!”
“I wasn’t going to,” Percy objected.
She made her way up to the second floor of the house, sure that a sneaky cat would choose to hide in these quieter rooms. This floor was full of the smaller guest rooms and had an abandoned feel. Percy walked through each room, looking beneath all the beds and chaise longues, and inside all the wardrobes and chests.
Jeeves came to join her after he had served lunch, which Percy skipped because she was still full from her triple breakfast. She and Jeeves found no sign at all of a cat.
“It’s that stupid cat that was terrifying Lucky kitten, wasn’t it?” she complained to Jeeves. Percy had thought it must have been getting in from outside, but it turned out it had been in the house all along.
Jeeves gave a glum grunt.
“Looking for a cat like some common rat trapper,” he muttered darkly. “Whatever would people think if they could see me now?”
“I’m beginning to think it’s a ghost!” Percy scowled as she dragged aside some heavy old drapes around a four poster bed and peered under it. “What’s so special about this stupid cat anyway?”
“Exactly what I always said! Should have dusted it years ago and been done with it. Fool thing belongs in the beyond, not here. Always did give me the heebie jeebies. That thing never liked anyone and nobody ever liked it!”
He was floating up near the ceiling, looking morose. Percy was sure his mind was more on what he wanted to cook for dinner rather than on the search.
“You could help!” she chided him.
He shot her a dirty look. “Much good that would do! This is not one of my duties. I’m only here because you know I can never say no to your mother.”
When they had finished thoroughly searching that floor, Jeeves declared, “That dratted thing won’t come out so long as I’m here. I know he won’t. And I shan’t suffer being made to present two mediocre meals in one day. I absolutely shan’t!”
Having delivered this lofty speech, he shot straight through the floor, in the general direction of the kitchen.
Percy made her way up to the third floor, which had once been occupied by an e
ntire staff of servants back in her grandmother’s day.
Some hours later, having searched both floors twice and failed to find anything, she returned downstairs feeling very grumpy.
Dinner did not make her feel better, seeing as she was supposed to be at the movies with her friends and she was sure that Nan, Shara and Felix were having a brilliant time without her.
Worse, Jeeves had served one of those elaborate meals that fancifully occupied only the central parts of very large decorative plates and did not include a single one of Percy’s favorite foods.
Percy suffered through the endive, roquefort and walnut salad, wishing it was something hot. She did not like the smell of the rabbit chasseur, which would have made Mr Bramble shudder with grief.
Juliet ate half of the rabbit and then declared she had gone off meat.
“There was so much blood!” she said in ringing tones. “My poor Brad. So much blood!”
“How do you know?” said Percy. “You weren’t there.”
Juliet shot Percy an aggrieved look. “It was in all of the papers!”
“Look,” said Percy. “About this murder. Do you—”
“I shan’t talk about it,” said Juliet. “I absolutely shan’t!”
Percy scowled. “Well if you won’t talk about it, how is anyone supposed to help? I thought that was what you were here for?”
Juliet’s mouth started trembling dangerously.
“That’s enough, Percy dear,” said Gwendolyn, looking thoroughly bored of the whole thing. “If you want to help Juliet, then you know perfectly well what you need to do.”
Percy scowled. Find a stupid cat. She might have been more motivated if only Gwendolyn would tell her what she planned to do with it.
Percy had been looking forward to dessert, but when Jeeves brought in the lemon crème brûlée her heart sank. It was far too small.
Juliet took one look at it and burst into tears. “B-brad loved crème brûlée,” she sobbed.