by Adele Abbott
“You’ll already be familiar with this, I assume?” I flicked through my copy of the Will.
“Yes, well, not really. It’s all a bit of a blur. I was there for the reading, obviously. Essentially, I inherited everything except for the money that was bequeathed to the charities.”
“Maths is not my strong suit, but by my very rough calculations, it appears that seventy percent of your husband’s estate went to you, and the remaining thirty percent was split between a number of charities.”
“That sounds about right. We agreed we’d both do the same seventy-thirty split.”
“That’s a substantial amount of money. I don’t actually recognise the names of any of the charities listed here, Paula.”
She studied the list for a few seconds. “I only recognise a couple of them myself, but that’s not too surprising. We agreed that we should choose our own charities. I chose the larger, more mainstream ones, but John preferred to go for the smaller, niche ones.”
“Do you mind if I ask where your money came from Paula? It’s obvious from your house that you’ve done very well for yourselves.”
“John and his business partner started a small haulage company thirty years ago. At the outset, it was just them and a single lorry.” She smiled at the memory. “The business expanded massively over the years, and then two years ago, they sold out to one of the multi-nationals. John wasn’t keen on selling—the business had been his baby. But his partner, Julian, desperately wanted out, so in the end, John agreed to sell.”
“Was there any animosity between them afterwards?”
“No. They remained the best of friends.”
“Where can I find Julian?”
“The last I heard he was living somewhere in the south of France. I tried to persuade John that we ought to buy a house somewhere with a warmer climate, but he was never keen.”
“There’s just one more thing, Paula. Would it be possible for me to take a look at John’s phone?”
“I’m not sure where it is.”
“I understood that he had it with him on the day he died. Mike Morley told me that your husband had taken a call just as they were about to go through to the pool.”
“He always had it with him. I suppose it must be in amongst his personal effects, which the police returned to me. I haven’t been able to bring myself to look through them yet.”
“Would you like me to do it?”
“No, I’d rather do it myself. I’ll have a look when I get home and I’ll let you know if the phone is there.”
“If it is, I’ll pop over and pick it up if that’s okay with you?”
“Of course.”
***
I’d just said goodbye to Paula Green when my phone rang; it was Mrs V.
“Jill, I have good news and bad news.”
“Give me the good news first.”
“The sign men came not long after you’d left.”
“That was quicker than I expected. Have they turned the sign around?”
“That’s the bad news. While they were trying to do it, it split in two.”
“Tell them to put the two halves up anyway. Just make sure it’s the right way around.”
“I’ve already asked them to do that, but they say it would be too unstable. They insist they’re going to have to make another sign.”
“You know what? I don’t care anymore. Let them do what they want. I’m done with signs. Is there anything else while I’m on?”
“There are no messages, but there is something strange going on down the corridor.”
“At Clown? What?”
“I don’t know, but there’s been a high-pitched whistling noise coming from their offices for the last couple of hours.”
“I won’t be back again today because there’s a couple of things I need to sort out. Hopefully, whatever the noise is will have stopped by Monday morning.”
“You haven’t forgotten that I won’t be in on Monday, have you, Jill?”
“Err, no, of course not. Remind me again why.”
“Armi and I are going to the Lake District for a long weekend. We leave tonight and come back on Monday. I did tell you about it some time ago.”
“I remember now. I hope you have a lovely time.”
I’d no sooner finished on that call than my phone rang again, this time it was Aunt Lucy.
“Jill, are you busy at the moment?”
“Nothing that can’t wait.”
“I’m at Cuppy C. Could you spare me a few minutes?”
“Of course. I’ll come straight over.”
“Shall I order you a coffee?”
“Actually, I’ve just had—err, yeah, why not? Thanks.”
Five minutes later, Aunt Lucy and I were enjoying a drink in Cuppy C.
“There’s nothing wrong, is there?” I asked.
“No. Everything is fine. Apart from Lester’s uniforms, that is. That’s the third one I’ve had to take in, in a little over two weeks.”
“How many does he have?”
“Just two, but he had to get one replaced because he was attacked by a pug.”
“It didn’t bite him, did it?”
“No, but the little monster shredded one of his trouser legs.”
“I always thought pugs were friendly. I didn’t realise they could be so pugnacious.” I laughed.
Aunt Lucy didn’t; she just gave me a despairing look. “According to Lester, pugs have always taken an instant dislike to him. Ever since he was a boy.”
“So, what did you want to see me about?”
“I hate asking for favours.”
“Don’t be silly. After all the things you’ve done for me, you can ask for anything.”
“It isn’t actually for me. It’s for three of my friends: Milly, Molly and—”
“Let me guess: Mandy?”
“Sandy, actually. We went to school together and we’ve kept in touch ever since.”
“What do they want?”
“They’re all big fans of yours.”
“Of me?”
“Yes. They love the Levels competition, and ever since you took part, you’ve become something of a hero to them.”
“I’m flattered.”
“They’ve petitioned Candlefield Wax Museum to include a sculpture of you in their collection.”
“Wax museum? I had no idea there was one.”
“It’s very small. If you didn’t know it was there, you could easily miss it.”
“No one wants to see a sculpture of me in there. I’d just make the place look untidy.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. The museum said yes.”
“Really? I’m gobsmacked.”
“They can only do it if you agree to a sitting. Milly, Molly and Sandy were too nervous to approach you themselves, so they asked if I’d do it.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You mustn’t feel under any obligation to say yes. If you’d rather not do it, then I’m happy to tell them that.”
How many people can say they had a sculpture of themselves in a wax museum? Not many. The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea.
“Okay, tell them I’m up for it.”
“That’s great. The girls will be so thrilled. I’ll give them the good news, and they or the museum will be in touch.”
“A complete waste of time and wax.” Grandma had pulled up a chair and joined us. “When they offered to make one of me, I turned them down flat. Those waxworks are tacky, if you ask me.”
“You never told me you’d been approached, Mother,” Aunt Lucy said.
“Why would I? It’s not like it’s of any importance. Unlike my synchronised broom flying team, which is coming on in leaps and bounds. Did I tell you that they’ll be putting on their first public display soon?”
“You did, actually.”
“I’ve reserved tickets for all of you.”
“That’s great. I can hardly wait.” Yawn and double yawn. “Wh
ile I have you here, Grandma, can I pick your brain?”
“If you must, but I have to shoot off in a few minutes. I have an appointment for a nasal wash.”
Lovely. “By the way, does the name Redgrave mean anything to you?”
“No. Should it?”
“Probably not.”
“Well, I’ve never heard of them.” She stood up to leave.
“Hold on. There’s one other thing. What do you know about wood nymphs?”
“Apart from their infamous sweet tooth, you mean? Not much. They’re pathological liars of course, but everyone knows that. Why do you ask?”
“I think they may be stealing biscuits and cake from Mrs V’s new house.”
“That sounds like just the sort of thing they would do.”
“What can I do about it?”
“Pink marshmallows.”
“Sorry?”
“They can’t resist them.”
“Set a trap, you mean? Grandma, you’re a genius.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
***
Tony and Clare were packing their costumes into the boot of their car, and if I wasn’t mistaken, Clare seemed to be walking with some difficulty.
“Are you okay, Clare?”
“It’s that stupid boomerang costume. Walking around, bent double like that, has done my back in. I’m not sure how I’ll get through the weekend.”
“Couldn’t you give the con a miss?”
“Certainly not. Not after how much money we’ve laid out already. I’ll probably be okay after a good night’s sleep.”
No one could call into question their dedication. Their sanity, though, that was an entirely different matter.
***
“I thought he was supposed to be here at eight.” Jack tapped his watch.
“It’s only five past.”
“It doesn’t create a very good first impression, does it? What’s his name again?”
“Frank Miller.”
Almost on cue, there was a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it.” Jack hurried out into the hallway.
Frank Miller reminded me of the wooden toy soldiers that Mikey often played with. He stood stock-still, as though he had a plank of wood stuck to his back. And as for his facial expressions, he didn’t have any.
“I understand you may be interested in our new range of micro wind turbines.” He went straight into his spiel—no small talk for this guy.
“Possibly,” Jack said. “The people across the road have just had them installed in their back garden. They told us that they didn’t have to pay anything for the wind turbines, and that they got to use all of the electricity generated, but that doesn’t sound right, so we thought we should get it straight from the horse’s mouth. That’s why we asked you to pop over.”
“What your neighbours told you is correct.”
“I don’t get it.” I piped up. “How can you possibly do that? Do it all for free, I mean? There has to be a catch.”
“There’s no catch. I’ll leave you the paperwork, so you can check it for yourself. It’s all part of the government’s Get Green initiative. This offer isn’t likely to last for long, though, so if you’re interested, you’ll need to act quickly.”
“Say we decided to go ahead.” Jack picked up the paperwork and started to skim through it. “How quickly would the wind turbines be installed?”
“Usually within two to three days.”
“As quick as that?”
“At the moment, yes, but that may change if you delay your decision.”
To give Miller his due, there was no hard sell. Once he’d given us the paperwork and answered our questions, he left.
“What do you reckon?” I said.
“Other than the fact that we’ll lose the lawn, I can’t think of a good reason not to do it.”
“Me neither. Let’s go for it.”
Chapter 11
The next morning, we were eating breakfast when Jack came out with the funniest thing I’d heard in years.
“Say that again.” I laughed. “And see if you can still keep a straight face.”
“It will be fun.”
“No. Say exactly what you said the first time.”
“I said I’m going to the model train fair in West Chipping with Mr Hosey, and it should be fun.”
“That’s what I thought you said.” I could barely speak for laughing; tears were streaming down my face. “Do you realise that you just said the words Hosey and fun in the same sentence?”
“I’m looking forward to it. According to Mr Hosey, there are always a few bargains to be had.”
“We don’t have cash to throw away on toy trains.”
“Now that we don’t have any electricity bills, we do. You’re welcome to come with us if you like.”
“I’d rather poke my eyes out with a red-hot poker. I’d rather chew glass. I’d rather—”
“I get the idea. You’re not overly keen.”
“When did you arrange this, anyway?”
“Just now. I bumped into him when I went to pick up my magazine from the shop. The only reason I agreed to go with him is because you said you were going to be tied up with fairy business today.”
“They’re wood nymphs, and I have to get it sorted while Mrs V and Armi are away.”
“Where have they gone?”
“To the Lake District.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be helping the twins out today as well?”
“Yeah. My day is set to be just one fun thing after another.”
Bad as it was, though, I’d take it over spending time with Mr Hosey, any day of the week.
***
If the twins were correct (and, yes, I did realise how unlikely that was), Cuppy C was going to be extremely busy for the launch of the new loyalty card. Rather than go straight to the shop, I decided I’d magic myself to the marketplace and walk from there. I was hoping the fresh air might blow away the cobwebs.
At that time of the morning, there’s nothing better than the sound of birdsong, and the sight of fresh dew on the grass.
Unless of course, it’s the smell of a bacon cob.
“Morning, love, what can I do you for?” The wizard behind the counter in the mobile café flashed me a smile.
“A bacon cob, please.”
“Coming right up.”
“I haven’t seen you here before.”
“I used to have a café on the other side of Candlefield, but the rent and rates got silly, so I’ve decided to go mobile. This is my first week in the van.”
“I like the name you’ve chosen.”
“Nice and Greasy Does it? Thanks, I’m quite proud of it.” He handed me the cob. “Aren’t you that Jill Maxwell?”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“I almost didn’t recognise you without the moustache. I’m Berndt, by the way.”
“I’m not surprised. I wouldn’t trust myself around all those naked flames.”
“Not burnt.” He laughed. “Berndt. B-E-R-N-D-T. Bobby Berndt, but everyone just calls me Berndt.”
“I see. Well, good luck with your new venture.”
The bacon cob certainly hit the mark; it was just what I needed to set me up for the day ahead.
As I made my way towards Cuppy C, I noticed a number of identical posters on lampposts. In the end, curiosity got the better of me, so I took a closer look at one. As I read it, I couldn’t help but snigger. This was not going to go down well with a certain someone.
“We didn’t think you were coming, Jill.” Amber looked stressed to the max. “You said you’d be here at eight-thirty.”
“It’s only eight-thirty-five.”
“Your uniform is in the back. Hurry up because we open in ten minutes.”
“Uniform? No one said anything to me about wearing a uniform.”
“Everyone wears them. Hurry up. Pearl’s waiting for you.”
“Quick, Jill.” Pearl passed me a pink and tur
quoise uniform. “We open in a few minutes.”
“This is too big for me.”
“It’s the only spare one we have. Come on. Look sharp.”
“I look ridiculous.”
“You look great.”
Pearl’s reassurance wasn’t particularly convincing.
“These trousers are falling down!”
“Wait there.” Pearl disappeared and returned a few minutes later, clutching two safety pins. “These will do the trick.”
“I look like a clown.”
“No one will be looking at you. They’re all here for the loyalty card. Come on. We have to get this show on the road.”
It had been ages since I’d used the coffee machine, so it took a while for me to get back up to speed. Not that my version of speed had ever been particularly fast. Meanwhile, the queue was building up, and already out the door.
“I’ll take over the coffee machine,” Amber said. “You go and help Pearl with the loyalty card sign-ups.”
“I’m just getting the hang of this again.”
“Not judging by the queue, you’re not. Go on. Go and help Pearl.”
“Fine.”
The twins had pushed two tables together, and from there were processing the customers who wanted to sign up for the new loyalty scheme. The queue at the tables was almost as long as the queue at the counter.
“What do you want me to do, Pearl?”
“Get everyone to fill out one of these forms. When they’ve done that, give them one of these cards.”
The loyalty cards, which had been printed on very flimsy cardboard, were in the now infamous Cuppy C colours: half pink, half turquoise.
“I thought they’d be plastic.”
“These were cheaper.”
The advance publicity had certainly done the trick because the queue of people waiting to sign up didn’t clear until almost two hours later.
“I think we all deserve a drink.” Amber had come over to join us. “I’ve asked Cindy to cover the counter. Let’s take a break for a few minutes.”
No arguments from me; my feet were killing me.
“Didn’t we tell you the loyalty scheme would be popular, Jill?” Amber said, as we enjoyed a well-deserved break.