Witch Is How To Fool Cats

by Adele Abbott

  “You did. I thought people had grown tired of loyalty cards.”

  “Not here in Candlefield. That’s the whole point. We got the idea when we were over in the human world. Practically every shop we went into over there offered us one, but you simply don’t see them in Candlefield.”

  “If that’s true, who did you get to set yours up?”

  “We did it ourselves.”

  “Right?” What was that noise I heard? Oh yes, the familiar sound of an alarm bell ringing. “You designed the cards yourself?”

  “That’s right.” Pearl beamed. “They look good, don’t they?”

  “Err, yeah. And you got someone to print them for you?”

  “That’s right. We used Pixie Print—their prices are very reasonable.”

  “And what about the loyalty scheme itself? How does that work, exactly?”

  “What do you mean?” Amber had a strawberry moustache from her milkshake.

  “I mean, how are the loyalty points recorded? Did you buy some kind of software?”

  The vacant look on their faces confirmed my worst fears, but before I could explore the subject any further, Grandma appeared at our table, and she was breathing fire.

  “I’ll kill that woman! How dare she?”

  The twins clearly had no idea what Grandma was so angry about. I, though, knew exactly what had got her so wound up.

  “I take it you’ve seen the posters, Grandma?” I had to work very hard not to smirk.

  “Seen them? You can hardly miss them. They’re everywhere. How dare she?”

  “What’s happened, Grandma?” Amber asked, somewhat timidly.

  “What’s happened? I’ll tell you what’s happened. That dreadful woman, Chivers, has formed a broom flying troupe too.”

  “Surely there’s enough room for both troupes,” I said.

  “Did I ask for your opinion?”

  “Err, no, I just thought—”

  “Well don’t. No good ever comes of it.”

  “Sorry. The poster I saw said that her troupe would be holding their first performance next weekend.”

  “I know perfectly well what it said. She’s only done this to spite me. Well, I won’t stand for it.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to have a word with her right now.” And with that, Grandma stormed out of the shop.

  “The sparks are going to fly when Grandma catches up with Ma Chivers,” Pearl said.

  “Anyway, back to the subject of your new loyalty scheme. You were going to explain how it will work.”

  “Err—” Was all Amber could manage.

  “Actually, we—err—” Was Pearl’s only contribution.

  “I don’t believe this. You don’t actually have a scheme in place, do you?”

  “We got the cards printed, didn’t we?” Amber said, defensively.

  “And they look great,” Pearl added.

  “The cards may well look great, but you need a system to monitor the loyalty points that each customer has earned.”

  “We’re not stupid, Jill,” Amber snapped. “We know that.”

  “So how are you going to do it?”

  “We’ve bought some notepads.”

  “Notepads?” This just got worse and worse. “What earthly good will those be?”

  “It’s really simple, Jill,” Pearl said. “Every time someone buys a drink, we’ll make a note of it.”

  Oh boy. “I—err—that—err—” I was stumbling for the right words.

  “What’s wrong with that?” Amber demanded.

  “Nothing. Nothing at all. It sounds like the ideal solution.”

  ***

  When I got back to the human world, I was trying to get my head around the idea that the twins had launched a loyalty scheme, without an actual loyalty scheme. What could possibly go wrong?

  Right now, though, I had other things on my mind. Like marshmallows.

  “But I only want the pink ones.” I sighed. This was the sixth sweet shop I’d been in so far, and I was becoming more and more exasperated.

  “I’m sorry, lady.” The young man behind the counter of Sweet Deal looked not even the least bit sorry. “They come in bags of white and pink.”

  “Couldn’t you just take out all the white ones?”

  “I suppose I could do that.”

  “Really?”

  “No! Not really. Do you want a bag of marshmallows or not?”

  “It doesn’t look like I have any choice, does it? Can I at least have another bag to put the white ones in.”

  “Sure, that’ll be another five pence.”

  Back at the car, I put all the white marshmallows into a separate bag, and then drove to Washbridge Cage Hire.

  Like me, you’re probably surprised to learn that such a niche shop exists. And, as fortune would have it, it was right here in Washbridge. What were the odds?

  “Good afternoon, madam.” The man was wearing a safari hat, a safari shirt and cycling shorts. A strange combination, but who was I to judge?

  “Good afternoon. I’d like to hire a cage for a few days.”

  “In that case, you’ve come to the right place. Dog? Cat? Chinchilla?”

  “Sorry?”

  “I need to know what kind of animal you want the cage for.”

  “Of course. It’s err—a small one.”

  “As in mouse small?”

  “Bigger than that. More like rabbit size.”

  “Okay.”

  “But there will be more than one of them.”

  “How many?”

  “Three, hopefully.”

  “In that case, I would recommend the Cagebar673. Follow me, and I’ll show it to you.” He led the way across the shop. “That’s the little beauty over there.”

  “Does it fold down?”

  “Of course. Let me demonstrate.” The man had clearly done this numerous times because a few seconds later, the cage was flat and ready to be carried.

  “Excellent. How much does that cost?”

  “How long will you need it for?”

  “I should be able to get it back to you late Monday.”

  “In that case, it will be just twelve pounds.”

  “Okay, I’ll take it.”

  ***

  Equipped with the cage and pink marshmallows, I drove to Mrs V’s new house. After a quick drive by, to make sure that Armi’s car wasn’t on the driveway, I parked just down the road.

  If the wood nymphs saw me, that would scupper my plan, so I left the cage and marshmallows at the front of the house, and then crept around the back. There was no sign of them. So far, so good, but I’d have to be quick and very quiet. Back at the front of the house, I assembled the cage, and placed the open packet of marshmallows in the bottom.

  With everything now set, I carried the cage to the rear of the house and placed it on the ground, near to the back door. The door of the cage was held shut by a spring mechanism, so I pulled it open, and then wedged a stick in there to prevent it from closing again. If all went according to plan, the wood nymphs wouldn’t be able to resist the pink marshmallows. When they climbed into the cage, they’d dislodge the stick and thus trap themselves inside. I would return the following day when, if all had gone according to plan, I’d take the wood nymphs to another wood, far away from Mrs V’s house.

  What was that you said? An ingenious plan? I am of course far too modest to comment.

  ***

  When I arrived home, Tony and Clare had just got out of their car, and they were obviously at each other’s throats.

  “How was it my fault?” Tony said.

  “Who else’s fault could it be?” Just then Clare spotted me. “Sorry about this, Jill, but this idiot has given me a bad back.”

  “It wasn’t my fault.” Tony turned to me for support. “Tell her, Jill.”

  “What happened?”

  “You may well ask.” Clare sighed. “My back is killing me after walking around in that stupid boomerang cos
tume all week. And for what? Tell her, Tony!”

  “It turned out that BoomerCon wasn’t a celebration of the Antipodean icon.”

  “Oh? What was it?”

  “This idiot got it all wrong,” Clare said. “It was boomer as in baby boomers. You should have seen the strange looks we got when we walked in, dressed as boomerangs.”

  “Oh dear. Still, it’s an easy mistake to make.” I had to rush into the house before I started laughing.

  Chapter 12

  We’d had a lazy Sunday. After the week I’d had, that was just what the doctor ordered because I’d desperately needed to recharge my batteries.

  Too soon, though, it was Monday morning.

  “You really should have come to the model train fair on Saturday,” Jack said. “I think you’d have enjoyed it.”

  “I highly doubt that.”

  There were some days when I wasn’t sure that man knew me at all.

  “They’d laid on some fabulous refreshments and they were all free.”

  “I was too busy laying a trap for Mrs V’s wood nymphs.”

  “When will you know if it’s worked?”

  “This morning.”

  “What time do Mrs V and Armi get back?”

  “I’m not sure, but they’ve got a long journey back from the Lake District, so if I go over to the house as soon as I’ve finished breakfast, I should be long gone before they return. And, hopefully, I’ll have caught myself some wood nymphs.”

  “Let’s hope so. By the way, how did you get on at Cuppy C?”

  “Fine. I’ve become something of a master barista, even if I do say so myself.”

  “Was there a good turnout for the launch of the new loyalty card scheme?”

  “Yeah. Much better than I’d expected. Mind you, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The twins haven’t thought this through at all. They’re planning to manually record the number of points earned. All they’ve got to run the scheme is a couple of lined notepads. I don’t know why I’m surprised; this is just typical of them.”

  “That sounds like a recipe for disaster to me.”

  “It is. I did get one good laugh while I was there, though. Grandma was going ballistic because Ma Chivers has assembled a rival broom flying troupe. And to make matters worse, Ma Chivers’ troupe are putting on their first show on Sunday.”

  “I don’t imagine your grandmother will take that lying down.”

  “You better believe she won’t. The last I heard, she was going to have it out with Ma Chivers.”

  ***

  Oh bum!

  This could not be happening. I was sure Mrs V had told me that they were taking a long weekend and coming back late on Monday. So why was Armi’s car parked on their driveway?

  I’d left the cage outside the back door, so they were sure to have seen it. What if the wood nymphs had succumbed to their passion for pink marshmallows, and triggered the trap? What would Mrs V and Armi have made of the three strange creatures?

  There was still a glimmer of hope. Maybe the wood nymphs had realised it was a trap and given it a wide berth. Either way, I had to find out, so I crept slowly up to the house, and edged my way around the back.

  There was no sign of the cage!

  “Jill?” Mrs V came out of the back door; she was wearing a full-length paisley patterned dressing gown and matching slippers. “I thought I saw you.”

  “Morning.”

  “Err, morning. What are you doing here?”

  “I—err—I’ve misplaced my—err—pen.”

  “Your pen?”

  “It’s one my father gave to me years ago. It has great sentimental value.”

  “I’ve never heard you mention it before.”

  “I must have. Anyway, I’ve been trying to retrace my steps to see if I can find it.”

  “It’s almost three weeks since you were here.”

  “I know, but I’ve tried everywhere else.”

  “You’re welcome to take a look around. I’ll get dressed and come out and help you.”

  “There’s no need.”

  “I insist. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

  This was going from bad to worse.

  I knelt on the leaf-covered lawn and pretended to search for the non-existent pen.

  “What colour is it?” Mrs V had changed into what looked like her gardening clothes.

  “Colour? It’s—err—green. Greeny brown.”

  “That’s rather unfortunate. Still, if it’s here, I’m sure we’ll find it.”

  “I thought you said you and Armi weren’t coming back until later today?”

  “That was the plan, but Armi came down with a stomach bug, so we came home last night. It’s just as well we did too because something strange has been happening while we’ve been gone.”

  “Strange? Strange how?”

  “Someone left a cage outside the back door.”

  “Was there anything in it?”

  “That’s the weirdest thing of all. The only thing in there was a packet of marshmallows.”

  “Really?” I laughed. “Who’d leave a packet of pink marshmallows in a cage?”

  “How did you know they were pink?”

  Oh bum! Me and my big mouth. “I—err—just assumed they would be. No one likes the white ones, do they?”

  “Actually, they’re my favourites.”

  “Oh? Who do you think left the cage there?”

  “I have absolutely no idea, but if I find out, I’ll be suing them for pain and suffering. You should see the bruise on Armi’s arm. I told him to leave the marshmallows be, but did he listen? Of course he didn’t. Serves him right, that’s what I say.”

  “What happened?”

  “When he reached inside to grab them, the cage door sprang closed on his arm.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Yes, it’s nothing serious; just a bad bruise, but to hear him complain, you’d think it had chopped his arm off.”

  “It doesn’t look like my pen is here. I must have dropped it somewhere else.”

  “I’m happy to keep looking for it if you are?”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m sure it’ll turn up sooner or later.” I stood up and brushed myself down. “You’ll be wanting to get rid of the cage, I imagine? Why don’t I take it away for you?”

  “That’s very kind, dear, but there’s no need. Armi was so angry after he trapped his arm, that he took it to the local tip.”

  “Did he? Right. Great. In that case, I suppose I’d better get going. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “I’m coming in today.”

  “But it’s your day off.”

  “I booked the day off when I was expecting to be in the Lake District. Now I’m back, I may as well be at work.”

  “Okay. See you at the office.”

  ***

  The man behind the counter at Washbridge Cage Hire was still sporting the somewhat eccentric safari/cycling combo, but today his cycle shorts did at least colour match the rest of his ensemble. A minor but not insignificant improvement in my humble opinion.

  “Hello again.” He looked up from his paperwork. “How are the rabbits?”

  “Rabbits?”

  “The three rabbits you needed the cage for?”

  “Oh, those three. They’re fine.”

  “What are they called?”

  “Err—Flopsy—err—Flopsy Two and Flopsy Three.”

  “Oh?” Clearly under-impressed by my lack of imagination in the bunny-naming stakes, he glanced either side of me. “Did you decide that you’re going to need it for longer?”

  “Sorry?”

  “The cage? Do you need to extend the hire period?”

  “Actually, no. There’s been an incident. With the cage.”

  “What kind of incident?”

  “It kind of—err—got crushed.”

  The colour drained from his face. “What about Flopsy, Flopsy Two and—?�
�

  “It’s okay. All three Flopsys are safe and well.”

  “Thank goodness for that. What happened? How did the cage get crushed?”

  “It’s a long, complicated story involving a piano and a block of flats. I won’t bore you with it. I just thought I’d better let you know. I assume you have some kind of insurance for this type of eventuality?”

  “It doesn’t work like that I’m afraid.”

  “Oh?”

  “The form you signed when you hired the cage states quite clearly that you are responsible for any damage or loss while it’s in your possession.”

  “Right.” I sighed. I’d had a horrible feeling he was going to say that. “How much do I owe you?”

  “Let me see.” He consulted the book on his desk. “You hired the Cagebar673, didn’t you? The replacement price is one-hundred and twenty-two pounds.”

  “But it’s only a small cage.”

  “That’s true, but it’s top of the range; it’s made from reinforced steel to ensure your pet’s safety.”

  “Reinforced steel? How come it got crushed, then?”

  He handed me a form identical to the one I’d signed when I’d hired the cage. “See clause 22a(i) on the back.”

  The text was so small that I could barely read it. Only by squinting did I manage to make out the wording which read: although the Cagebar673 is made from reinforced steel, it is unable to withstand extraordinary impacts e.g. dropping a piano on it from a great height.

  Well that was just dandy. Not only had I failed to catch the wood nymphs, but I was out one-hundred and twenty-two pounds less the cost of the initial rental. My problem was that I was too giving. Too caring. This had all come about because I’d been trying to help Mrs V. Well, no more—from now on I planned to be totally selfish.

  What do you mean no one will notice?

  ***

  As soon as I started up the stairs to my office, I heard the whistling sound that Mrs V had mentioned on Friday.

  Mrs V was wearing earmuffs and didn’t hear me walk into the office.

  I waved my hand in front of her face to get her attention. “Mrs V.”

  “Sorry, Jill.” She pulled off the earmuffs. “I couldn’t stand that awful whistling sound for another minute. Do you have any idea what it is?”