Amanda Cadabra and The Strange Case of Lucy Penlowr

by Holly Bell

  ‘Yes but —’

  ‘All right, Amanda. In a minute.’

  She shut her eyes, leaning back against Trelawney, who was still supporting her. However, once Amanda had drunk some tea, she revived, sat up and thanked him. He moved away and asked her,

  ‘Just before you passed out, you said. “I know what happened. It wasn’t Lucy.”’

  ‘What did you mean, my dear?’ asked Hogarth.

  ‘I saw it. It wasn’t Lucy who was responsible for the death of Mordren Dowrkampyer.’ She looked at the intent but bewildered faces of her friends. ‘I have to explain.’

  ‘All right, Amanda. Take your time,’ Hogarth bade her calmly.

  ‘Well, Grandpa taught me that there are three parts to casting a spell:

  Erm … the right words, the right intention, the right focus. When the three intersect, the spell goes forth. Words, intention and focus,’ Amanda repeated, her voice growing stronger, her breathing deeper and steadier.

  ‘Ok. Got that,’ confirmed Hogarth.

  ‘Until the release .... Look, the wand is just an instrument of focus. You say the words and make the intention for the spell, and then you focus it through the wand or staff or whatever.’

  ‘Understood.’

  ‘Agacine Flamgoyne was saying the words, and I could feel the power of her murderous intent all across the hall. She had cocked back her wrist, ready to flick forward … when she was killed.’ Amanda didn’t think she'd got her message across.

  ‘Listen. She was saying the words, she had the intention to kill Mordren, the wand was her focussing tool. The intent was to fire at the end of the words! She was killed before she could say all of the words.’

  Hogarth and Trelawney were looking at her. But Amanda couldn’t tell if they’d understood. She went on emphatically,

  ‘Don’t you see? The wand was charged! Like a gun, loaded, primed and cocked. It could have gone off in the hands of anyone who picked it up. Lucy — Elodie — was just looking around for anything to stop Dowrkampyer. If it had been a shoe, she would have grabbed it and thrown it at him. But it happened to be a wand. It happened to be a Flamgoyne wand. And it happened to be charged. It was already targeted.’

  ‘So,’ Trelawney responded slowly, ‘Elodie picked up a loaded gun, and the gun went off in her hand?’

  ‘Yes, with only her desire to stop Dowrkampyer. Without that wand, or with it before it was charged, she could never have done much damage. She’d never used a wand, had no training at all, as a witch. She would have stunned him for a moment, made him dizzy maybe. She could never have killed him. You see?’

  ‘Lucy is innocent,’ said Trelawney, in amazement. ‘Elodie is innocent.’

  Hogarth almost collapsed back in his chair as though exhausted from a long struggle.

  ‘I knew it. I knew it. I knew Elodie had to be innocent. I just had no evidence.’

  ‘Until now,’ said Trelawney, smiling.

  Amanda got up, still unsteady from the smoke and asthma. She reached Hogarth’s chair and sank down by it.

  ‘And you were right, Uncle Mike.’ He leaned forward and hugged her. She felt something wet on her face.

  Thomas tactfully withdrew to the kitchen to put the oven on to heat up dinner, and set about making tea for himself and Hogarth. Soon they were sipping away and thereafter tucking into dinner.

  Over pudding, Amanda and Trelawney went over the evening’s events again.

  ‘There’s something I don’t understand,’ said Thomas. ‘I get the loaded gun analogy, but it didn’t fire a bullet; it fired a death ray.’

  ‘There is one explanation. Granny told me about this but she said she’d never seen it done. It’s something called a stacked spell. It’s something that no witch would want to do. For example, say I wanted to freeze a puddle of water and turn it purple. Well you would do that with two separate spells: one to freeze, one to change the colour. After all, both spells would be coming from the same witch with the same —what can I say? — intent ... feeling, attitude. In simple terms, for good or for bad.’

  ‘You’re saying that Elodie’s intention to stop Dowrkampyer, stacked on top of Agacine’s intention to kill him?’

  ‘Yes, that’s my theory,’ replied Amanda. ‘And the juxtaposition of good and malicious intent acted like a ....’

  ‘Matter and anti-matter?’ suggested Thomas.

  ‘Well … why not?’

  ‘Hm,’ said Hogarth.

  ‘Do you know something about this, Uncle Mike?’

  ‘Let’s just say that this could shed light on at least one similar instance.’

  Amanda looked at him hopefully. ‘But so far does my theory fit?’

  ‘So far, yes. I suggest you ask your grandmother. Although,’ added Hogarth with amusement, ‘I have a feeling that if we were wrong she’d be here telling us just that, in her uniquely charming manner. The point is, Elodie picked up a charged wand with a hair trigger.’

  ‘Agreed,’ said Trelawney. ‘She was not responsible for Dowrkampyer’s death.’

  Over tea, Hogarth was busy sending a long text.

  Soon the bing! of a returned text came. Hogarth excused himself and went to the kitchen. They heard his voice, low at first then rising with joy and excitement, even through the thickness of the kitchen door.

  ‘You see? It really was an accident .... No, you’re not a killer.’ Laughter followed ‘No. Sorry to disappoint you. There goes your glamour, my dear. Oh, how dull. I shall just have to find myself another bride ... as if I would.’ His voice fell low again.

  Trelawney and Amanda exchanged happy if somewhat embarrassed smiles. Presently Hogarth returned, beaming. Amanda asked tentatively,

  ‘Now we know Elodie is innocent and, of course, the Cardiubarns and the Flamgoynes are gone, can Lucy come home now?’

  ‘All in good time. First: Amanda, will you be, at least, somewhat recovered by tomorrow morning?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure.’

  ‘Then I want you both here as early as possible. There’s work to be done!’

  Chapter 46

  Homecoming

  Trelawney and Amanda arrived just after 8 o'clock on the following morning. Hogarth, full of the joys of spring and raring to go, made them all a fry-up for breakfast in the kitchen, and then they set to work.

  ‘Amanda, you’re on light duties: would you mind taking your nice little wand into the dining-room and putting the furniture back?’

  ‘Sure,’ she replied brightly.

  ‘Thomas, to the garden if you please. All of the sacks need to be taken to the recycling centre. Use my car.’

  In due course, Hogarth joined Amanda, to see her dealing with the last item. It was a large, walnut, glass-fronted cabinet containing all of Mike’s most treasured books, or as he put it: ‘The things that I hardly ever read but look pretty.’

  Amanda had left it until last because it was the heaviest and most delicate. Pocket-wand in her right hand and her left outstretched, she was almost caressing it into movement.

  ‘Aereval ... adheinde ynentel ... gestilfth.’ The cabinet rose, moved back gently and stopped. Amanda walked to where she could better see the wall. ‘Adheinde ynentel ... gestilfth.’ It backed up a little more until it was almost flush with the skirting board. ‘Sedaasig.’ It lowered itself down onto the carpet. ‘Phew!’

  ‘Nicely done,’ applauded Mike. ‘Going to show Thomas your moves any time soon? Remember? Partners, trust.’

  ‘Yes, Uncle Mike. When we get back to Sunken Madley.’ He gave her a knowing look. Amanda laughed. ‘I promise!’

  ‘All right. Come on upstairs: soft furnishings to see to.’ Mike had put up new bedroom curtains.

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Good match to the room. But er ... bit creased?’

  ‘Er ....’

  ‘Want me to fix that?’ she offered mischievously.

  ‘Can you?’ he asked.

  Amanda approached the drapes and, raising her wand, uttered,
/>
  ‘Fulgwas.’ As she lowered her hand, the creases disappeared from top to bottom.

  ‘Wonderful,’ pronounced Mike, admiringly.

  ‘I know all of the housework spells. Granny taught me, on condition I learned how to do everything the normal way!’ Amanda explained, in long-suffering tones.

  ‘Good for Senara. Here, put this mask on. Let’s take no chances. Your next jobs could be fluffy.’

  Mike was right. There was new bedlinen to be put on the new mattress, new curtains to be hung in the sitting room where new cushion covers had to be fitted. Then there were new tea towels and towels to be hung up, and a new throw for the sofa to be unwrapped and arranged.

  As Amanda moved about the house, she saw it for the first time. Lucy: the paintings everywhere were signed LP. This must be Elodie’s and this one in the bedroom, the girl with the wind flirting with her skirt, was by Marielle surely. These were Zoe and Geoffrey’s bookmarks. The tea towel in the drawer and a mug bore Peter’s careful designs. Lucy was everywhere: five different styles yet all with a family likeness, the Lucy family. Amanda wondered how she had never seen it all before.

  Meanwhile, Trelawney was going back and forth to the recycling centre, disposing of bags of garden waste, old stained rugs and carpet, worn-out curtains, and the muddle of years that had been hidden in the attic and crammed into cupboards.

  This task also served to keep the inspector out of the way, so that Amanda could employ household magic that still felt too personal to let anyone else see. Mike kept himself scarce with some last bits of weeding, and watering the new bedding plants in the garden.

  He insisted that Amanda take frequent breaks. And all stopped for elevenses, lunch and afternoon tea. By 5 o'clock, the house was as fresh as a daisy.

  Hogarth rubbed his hands together.

  ‘Right. Good. Thank you both. Thomas, take Amanda for a slap-up meal, and I want you both at this address,’ — he handed over an envelope — ‘tomorrow evening at 7 pm sharp. Thomas, be at Amanda’s at 5.’ Trelawney was about to break the seal. ‘No, don’t open it until 4 o’clock tomorrow afternoon.’

  When Thomas presented himself at Amanda’s door, her first question, after a greeting, was:

  ‘Well? Where are we going?’

  ‘The café at Newquay Airport.’

  Amanda’s eyes widened. ‘Airport? Do you think ...?

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Oh! I have to change!’ With that, she vanished into her bedroom, while Trelawney checked the route. Finally, after a couple of failed outfit experiments, Amanda emerged, dressed in her best orange clothes.

  At the airport, they stood looking up at the arrivals board.

  ‘Where’s the flight coming from, do you think?’ she asked.

  ‘If we’re right, it would be Alicante. There’s a flight there from Barcelona.’

  ‘We’re supposed to wait in the café,’ Amanda reminded him.

  ‘We’d better do that then!’

  Amanda was too excited to eat, but they had tea. Finally, there was Mike. He was holding the door open for a youthful-looking woman of about Amanda’s height, with long wavy blonde hair, blue eyes and golden skin. There was an air of Christmas about her. Amanda and Trelawney stood up at her approach.

  Hogarth came behind, pushing an over-stacked baggage trolley.

  ‘Aha, hello, you two. Well done.’ He parked it by the table and looked at the lady. ‘These are my good friends, Detective Inspector Thomas Trelawney and Amanda Cadabra. Thomas, Amanda, this is Zoe, Elodie, Peter, Marielle and Geoffrey. Known to the outside world as Lucy Penlowr. My wife.’

  ‘Oh! Oh!’ cried Amanda in delight, clapping her hands.

  ‘Yes, we were married today.’

  Lucy looked at Amanda and held out her arms. Amanda hugged her warmly. The voice was that of Elodie. ‘Thank you.’ She stretched out a hand to Thomas who shook it, smiling. ‘Our dear, dear friends. How can we ever thank you? You have told the end of our story, given it the happiest of endings, and brought us home.’

  ‘Come on, people,’ Hogarth adjured them jauntily. ‘Let’s all sit down. What’s the tea like here?’

  ‘Amanda,’ now it was Marielle. ‘I do hope my darling Michael didn’t bully you too much into doing things you wouldn’t have otherwise done. Oh, of course, he does it so subtly you’d never know!’

  ‘I promise you I was more than willing to pitch myself into the fray,’ Amanda assured her, ‘as was the inspector.’

  ‘Indeed,’ put in Thomas.

  ‘What good friends, you have, Michael.’

  ‘Shall I get you some teas,’ offered Trelawney.

  ‘I think we can do better than that at home,’ responded Hogarth. ‘Come on! Let’s all get back to the cottage.’

  They drove in convoy and so arrived at the same time. However, Amanda and Trelawney hung back at the door. Hogarth bore his bride over the threshold and set her on her feet. She looked around in astonishment. It was Elodie they heard:

  ‘But this is beautiful! I think you have all been very busy indeed.’

  ‘Not all,’ replied Amanda. ‘Uncle Mike was working day and night when he wasn’t telling us your story. He was doing up the house and garden.’

  Trelawney and Amanda organised tea and cakes, while Hogarth showed Lucy around the house. Exclamations in different voices echoed down the stairs.

  ‘Listen!’ Amanda bade Thomas. ‘That must be Zoe. The little girl’s voice asking if there is going to be cake.’

  They stood still; ears pricked. Trelawney held up a finger.

  ‘There’s Marielle saying something about the bedroom .... Peter approving of the new cistern ....’

  ‘That’s Geoffrey praising the view from the window ... and Elodie saying how glad she was he’d got rid of that dreadful old jacket!’

  Finally, they came down the stairs, laughing. Peter observed ruefully, ‘There does seem to be an awful lot of our merchandise around here.’

  ‘Soon to be all over Cornwall, you’ll see!’ Mike pronounced.

  Presently, Amanda and Trelawney excused themselves and drove back to Parhayle.

  ‘It does take some getting used to,’ Amanda remarked, ‘the five of them all in one body. But it was fun working out who was who.’

  ‘Oh, I agree. They are all so different,’ observed Trelawney.

  ‘You know ... I think they were paying us a great compliment by all talking and being themselves.’

  ‘Indeed, I think so,’ he agreed.

  ‘Zoe clearly likes you. I hope you’ll be able to support her ice-cream habit!’

  Chapter 47

  Whatever Happened to ...?

  Amanda and Trelawney stayed away for a day, until they were called over by Hogarth for dinner. By the fire over pudding, as this had become a tradition, it was time to get down to business.

  ‘We’ve decided it’s easiest if I talk to you.’

  ‘Elodie?’ asked Amanda.

  ‘Yes, but you can call me Lucy if it helps,’ she suggested.

  ‘If I say, “Lucy”, that’s all of you, right?’

  ‘Yes, well sort of, if everyone is paying attention.’

  ‘Ok.’

  ‘What I wanted to say is, well done, Amanda. I heard about what you did. The fall of the House of Flamgoyne. You have made the way for me — us — to come home. And now it’s my turn to help you. In any way I can.’

  Amanda put down her tea.

  ‘I appreciate that. I just wanted to ask you: the book – the grimoire in the lab — did you see the asthma spell? The antidote?’ Amanda looked at her, hopefully.

  Lucy shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. The only student who had asthma was the boy who drowned. I never saw it. I am so very sorry. But that doesn’t mean I can’t help you. There was no trace of it in Cardiubarn Hall? Did you go back and search some more?’

  ‘No, there was none I could find. But it has to be somewhere,’ insisted Amanda optimistically.

  ‘More custard?’ offered
Lucy, picking up the jug.

  ‘Thank you.’

  As Lucy poured the thick, yellow, sweetly fragrant liquid onto Amanda’s jam roly-poly, she enquired,

  ‘The only time you remember seeing it was when you were three?’

  ‘That’s right. And the last time you saw it was …?’

  ‘About four weeks before the attack on Growan House.’

  ‘I think,’ said Hogarth, ‘it’s reasonable to assume that either the Flamgoynes took it from Cardiubarn Hall after it was used on Amanda, or the Cardiubarns hid it, either somewhere on the estate or elsewhere.’

  ‘However,’ interjected Lucy, ‘Amanda, you’re not looking for an asthma spell; they didn’t cast one on you. What they cast was a spell for creating a magical power, that they knew would go wrong in just that way.’

  ‘Yes, I see. The inspector did suggest that. If it were part of Dowrkampyer research, is it possible that notes about it could have survived in some other form elsewhere?’

  ‘They were always shredding their notes,’ responded Lucy, ‘but it’s not out of the question. Anyone else for more custard?’

  ‘Please,’ replied Trelawney.

  ‘Could the grimoire’s individual spells have been copied?’ Amanda suggested.

  Lucy went to Thomas with the custard jug. ‘Entirely possible. But The Grimoire would have held the only copy I know of.’

  ‘Apart from the Cardiubarns and the Flamgoynes, who else would have known about it? The children who escaped and maybe their families?’

  ‘That could be an avenue to pursue,’ Lucy agreed, sitting down again.

  ‘Well, for now, I think you should just enjoy your honeymoon.’

  ‘Quite,’ agreed Hogarth, looking across at his bride. ‘I believe I’m entitled to your undivided attention at least for a week or two.’

  That drew a provocative glance from Marielle. ‘I think I can manage that.’

  Amanda waited for a moment while Hogarth smiled at Marielle. It was one of the few expressions she remembered. She’d seen it between Grandpa and Granny, and now knew a sudden feeling ... a wish ... that someone would look at her in just that way. Amanda gave her head a little shake to banish the thought, then said,