Amanda Cadabra and The Flawless Plan

by Holly Bell

  'Don’t worry, bian, that’s very important. Just take the next step.’

  'Whatever that turns out to be,’ said Granny.

  Amanda parked outside number 26 Orchard Way.

  They got out of the car and entered the cottage. Amanda had just taken off her coat when Perran remarked,

  'Looks like you have a phone call.’

  Then Amanda’s mobile sounded.

  She looked at her grandparents suspiciously as she took it out of her pocket, walking into the living room. There, they sat down, Senara beside her on the chintz sofa and Grandpa in his favourite matching chair opposite.

  DI Trelawney, said the phone screen.

  ‘Hello, Inspector?’

  ‘Hello, Miss Cadabra, how are you?’

  ‘I’m fine, thank you. Are you still OK to come to the Feast of St Ursula of the Apples on 17th of November?’

  ‘Yes, indeed. Actually, I was hoping we might be able to meet up sooner.’

  ‘When did you have in mind?’

  ‘Would this Sunday be convenient?’ Trelawney enquired politely.

  ‘Yes, I’ll be free then. May I ask what the, er … occasion is?’

  ‘Of course. I was just coming to that. I wonder how you would feel about another trip down memory lane?’

  ‘This is both professional and personal again then, I take it?’ Amanda asked.

  ‘Yes. Some fresh information has come to light. No, not regarding the day of the minibus incident specifically. More ... background information, though it is specific to me, and well ….’

  Trelawney, usually so articulate, was finding it hard to express himself on a matter so private. Amanda compassionately put him out of his misery.

  ‘You would like me to try to remember some more?’

  ‘That’s right. On your previous foray into your memory of the past, you recalled being in the gallery at Cardiubarn Hall.’

  ‘Yes, my chilling great-grandmother showing me ancestral portraits of murderers and victims!’

  ‘I’m afraid so. You recalled that she showed you two groups of paintings, and chronologically left out the earliest ones and a whole load in the middle,’ Trelawney reminded her.

  ‘And you want me to try and fill in those gaps?’

  ‘I believe it may be of great help to us both,’ he said earnestly.

  Amanda wasn’t thrilled at the prospect, but, after all, Trelawney, only weeks previously, had saved her life. It was the least she could do. ‘OK.’

  ‘Not here,’ said Senara firmly. ‘I don’t want you bringing memories of That Place into our home!’

  ‘We’ll need somewhere to meet to do this,’ said Amanda.

  ‘Perhaps. And not The Big Tease. We’d better not go to that place again so soon, it’s far too public,’ agreed Trelawney.

  ‘What about hiring a room at the Asthma Centre? They rent them out to therapists, after all, and you know the manager,’ suggested Perran.

  ‘Good idea,’ said Amanda. ‘But you mean, Bill. But I don’t know if he’s got the job yet.’

  ‘What idea?’ asked Trelawney. ‘Although one has just occurred to me. Would it be possible to hire a room at the Asthma Research Centre? After all, you know Bill there.’

  Amanda’s eyes widened at her grandfather, and she mouthed the words 'What the ...?’

  ‘Would that be an option?’ he followed up.

  ‘Excellent. Yes. I tell you what. I’ll call Bill now, and see if we can book a slot for Sunday.’

  ‘During daylight,’ said Senara.

  ‘During the day?’ suggested Trelawney. ‘I’ll have to drive back to Cornwall in the evening.’

  ‘How about 2 o’clock?’

  ‘Yes, fine.’

  ‘OK, I’ll call you right back,’ Amanda assured him.

  She tapped off and called The Centre.

  ‘Bill?’

  ‘Lassie? How you doin’?’

  ‘Well, thank you, Bill and you?’

  ‘I’ve got the job. I’m manager noo.’

  Grandpa nodded.

  ‘See?’

  Amanda smiled in acknowledgement. She said aloud, ‘I’m so pleased, Bill. You absolutely deserve it. I have a favour to ask. Could I hire a room for Sunday at 2 pm.? I know I’m not a therapist, but it’s for a … a meditation session for a friend and myself.’

  ‘Gi’ us a sec …. I’ve only got two till three. That long enough?’

  ‘Oh yes, ample.’

  ‘Right. You’re booked in.’

  ‘Thank you, Bill.’

  ‘By the way, we might be back to normal sooner than we expected. Wi’ the publicity – goes to show no publicity is bad publicity — we’ve had a surprising number of applicants for all the positions left vacant by the …. people who were involved in … well, what happened here.’

  ‘That’s wonderful.’

  ‘So you just might be able to start your sessions with the healer airlier than we thought.’

  ‘No hurry. I’m still recovering, frankly. In the new year will suit me fine’

  ‘I might not be here when you arrive tomorrow, but I’ll leave a note.’

  ‘Thanks, Bill.’

  ‘Bye, lassie.’

  Amanda hung up and dialled Trelawney.

  'Inspector?'

  'Here, Miss Cadabra.'

  Amanda confirmed The Centre at 2 pm. 'We can get drinks from the canteen there to take to the room.’

  'I’ll meet you there then,’ suggested Trelawney.

  'Yes, that’s the most privacy we can expect to get. I know it’s in Little Madley, but it’s still part of the village and ….’

  ‘Yes, I’m prepared for the consequences,’ he answered wryly.

  She chuckled. ‘Till Sunday.’

  ‘At two. Thank you. See you then’.

  Amanda rang off, as her grandparents nodded in satisfaction and disappeared. She addressed herself to her familiar.

  ‘Hm. I take it talking to the inspector is “the next step”, but there’s another I can take in the meantime. I shall follow Granny and Grandpa’s excellent advice and head for the bath. But first: the library!’

  ***

  ‘The church hall?’ said Mrs Pagely. ‘Well, … it was built during the First World War, on land that was part of the Dunkley estate, but was gifted to the church expressly for the hall. Just a moment … I have a … hmm … somewhere here ….’ She bustled off to the local history section followed by Amanda.

  ‘Ah. Yes, … here, in Good Manors of Hertfordshire by Cecilia Stoan-Mayson written in 1889, it says there was a structure that they called the Big Barn on that part of the land but it was derelict. The Dunkleys were doing less agriculture and more renting, you see, and it was already falling into disrepair. The barn stopped being used as a barn around —’ Mrs Pagely turned the book towards Amanda and traced the lines with her finger, as she read aloud —‘“1818 following a mishap of a calamitous and embarrassing nature concerning Percy, the youngest son of Sir Edmund and Lady Abigail Dunkley.”’

  ‘Interesting,’ said Amanda, reading on to see if there was more to the story.

  ‘Oh dear, we have become sidetracked, haven’t we!’ said Mrs Pagely. ‘The point is, that the barn and the land it was on were donated to the church, and the hall was built. It was used as a hospital during the War. But if you want to know more than that, then Mr Hodster is your man.’

  ‘Do you know where I might find him, Mrs Pagely?’

  ‘I believe he is staying at present in Pipkin Acres up the road. He comes into the library at least once a week but not on set days. Miss Armstrong-Wittworth is a friend of his. You might ask her about going to see him.’

  Back at the cottage, Amanda declared, ‘Right, Tempest, one more call.’

  ‘Gwendolen?’

  ‘Hello, Amanda, dear.’

  ‘May I ask a favour?

  ‘Anything,’ replied Miss Armstrong-Witworth warmly.

  ‘Mrs Pagely says you’re friends with Mr Hodster at Pipki
n Acres Residential Home.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘Would you, please, be able to come with me one day to see him, when it’s convenient for you?

  'Of course, dear. I’ll call and arrange it. Are you going to tell me what’s it’s about or is it a secret mission?' asked Miss Armstrong-Witworth with gentle curiosity.

  'Oh, no,' laughed Amanda. 'It’s about the church hall. The rector has been showing it to me, and I’ve become curious about its history. I went to the library, and Mrs Pagely said Mr Hodster is the one to talk to.'

  'Yes,' Miss Armstrong-Witworth answered slowly. 'Oh yes …. He would know. Hmm, I haven't thought about all that in years … ,'she added meditatively. 'Before my time, of course, but … yes … he could tell you. Yes, dear,’ she said, seeming to return to the present. ‘I’ll contact him and find out when he’s free.’

  'Thank you, Gwendolen.’ Amanda finished the call and looked at her familiar thoughtfully. 'Hm, Tempest, I wonder what it is that Gwendolen hasn’t thought about in years.’ He stared back at her. 'OK, I get it. You know and you’re not telling.'

  He walked in front of Amanda up to the soon-to-be steamingly warm bathroom, thinking, ‘She’ll find out.’ He found it astonishing how humans so often needed to be told things. But his witch was quite a sweet little thing in her way and, at least, quicker on the uptake than most of her sorry excuse for a species.

  Chapter 17

  Preparing, and Cast Off

  Amanda awoke on Sunday morning feeling revived. By Friday, the Reisers’ banister had been completely stripped from the top of the house to the ground floor. It had been exhausting, having to rely on manual means when Mr Branscombe or Esta was around, and continually being on the lookout when she did use her magic. Amanda had spent Saturday in recovery. Tempest came out in sympathy and slept beside her on the sofa all day, while she alternately dozed and watched the Margaret Rutherford Agatha Christie box set.

  Now it was Sunday morning, and Amanda’s chief emotion was curiosity. Whatever was this new information that had come to light that was bringing Detective Inspector Trelawney 400 miles from Cornwall to see her? And what exactly was it that he needed her to dig up from her past? By half past one, she was almost ready to go to the Marion Gibbs Asthma Research Centre to meet him. She was giving her ensemble a last check in the mirror in her room, when the fashion police appeared.

  ‘Orange again?’ asked Granny, looking at her granddaughter’s choice of a knitted short dress, with straps, that flared from the waist over a cream top and merino orange leggings.

  ‘It’s a different orange to last time I met up with the inspector; it’s more of a yellow orange, and besides, I’m wearing brown boots with it instead of orange shoes. Anyway, I like orange, Granny.’

  ‘I think he’ll realise that.’

  ‘It’s an appointment, not a date. I’m not dressing to impress, I’m dressing to be comfortable,’ insisted Amanda.

  ‘That’s right, bian,’ said Grandpa, sitting on the bed.

  ‘Well, if you’re comfortable in that … if you’re sure you wouldn’t prefer a more sophisticated look? Something more mature?’ suggested Granny.

  ‘It wouldn’t suit her, love,’ Perran protested. ‘Ammy can’t help it if she looks young for her age. Remember what Bertil Bergstrom always says about her? “Nine years old, ahlvays nine!”’ he said, in a fair imitation of their dear friend and magical tool inventor’s Swedish accent.

  Senara’s lips twitched. ‘You’re quite right, Perran. You look very nice, dear,’ she said to Amanda with a nod.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Now don’t be nervous.’

  ‘The past that I visited last time the Inspector and I did this, isn’t a particularly nice place, though, is it, Granny?’

  ‘Granted. But it is the past. You will be visiting it only in memory,’ Senara stressed.

  ‘But it seemed so real.’ said Amanda seriously. ‘And you weren’t there, Granny, when it was actually happening. Not for those times.’

  ‘I know. I wish that I had been. I should never have left you alone in that house for a moment. But they had the power to keep me out. I was lucky that they let me take you away at night since the day when you were born, you know. Though, of course, they didn’t want the trouble of caring for you.’

  ‘Really?’ Amanda turned from the mirror to look at her grandmother. ‘You never told me that. Where did you take me?’

  ‘Back to where your Grandpa and I were staying.’

  ‘Grandpa didn’t come to Cardiubarn Hall with you?’

  ‘They wouldn’t allow a Cadabra to cross the threshold,’ explained Perran.

  ‘They only let me come and go because they needed me,’ added Granny. ‘I hadn’t been back for four decades.’

  ‘How was it that you went back?’ asked Amanda.

  ‘They invited me for your birth. Though it was more like a summons!’ Senara uttered with scorn. ‘And I knew well enough how it would be if you didn’t meet their expectations.’

  ‘How would it be?’ enquired Amanda with furrowed brow. ‘That they would reject me?’

  ‘They did what I hoped,’ replied Granny warmly, ‘and gave you to me and your grandfather. It turned out very well for us all,’ she added putting an arm around her granddaughter.

  Amanda nodded with a sigh of relief and an answering gleam in her eyes. ‘How right you are, Granny. I have been very lucky indeed. And,’ she continued reflectively, ‘during the three years I came and went from Cardiubarn Hall during the day, I may have learned some things that could prove to be valuable now.’

  ‘That’s the spirit!’ Grandpa commended her. ‘Now, do you want us to come with you for this meeting with the inspector?’ Amanda had turned back to the mirror and now she met her grandmother’s eyes in the reflection. They both knew the answer.

  ‘No, thank you, Grandpa. I have to do this by myself,’ she said with quiet resolve.

  ‘Rrrowl!’ stated Tempest, jumping on to the bed, apparently from nowhere.

  ‘Oh, not entirely alone,’ Amanda corrected herself with a grin and went to sit beside her familiar. ‘Though how you’re going to smuggle yourself into an Asthma Research Centre —’

  ‘— will be of no surprise to any of us!’ finished Granny caustically.

  ‘Yes,’ said Perran, ‘Just as the villagers have always said: he’s where he wants to be, when he wants to be!’

  The humans chuckled. Tempest preened himself and looked smug.

  ‘Time you were off,’ said Granny. ‘You want to be on time but not early.’

  ‘Yes, yes, I know, the inspector likes to be the first on the scene,’ intoned Amanda.

  ‘Precisely. And you remember how he likes —’

  ‘— his tea. Yes, Granny. Though I still don’t see how that’s relevant.’

  ‘Got your keys?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve got everything, thank you.’

  ‘We’ll be here when you get back,’ said Grandpa.

  Chapter 18

  Hypothetical Situation

  As Amanda drove herself and Tempest up Orchard Row and left into Muttring Lane, she considered that, although it had all turned out for the very best, it was still … well … not very nice to be discarded by one’s parents immediately after birth. And a very odd sort of way for them to behave. What Miss Armstrong-Witworth would have termed, ‘not at all the thing’.

  They turned right off Muttring Lane up Lost Madley Lane. It was not that Amanda felt hurt. She and her mother had never bonded; it was so long since she had looked at a photo of the woman in Granny’s album that she couldn’t at all recall what she looked like. No, the emotion Amanda felt was … offended.

  She parked, took a breath and said aloud to her familiar, ‘Well, never mind that. Let’s find out what the inspector wants.’ She arranged the hood of her soft orange top more evenly and got out of the Astra, to see Trelawney approaching her from his silver Ford Mondeo.

  ‘Miss Cadabra.’
/>   ‘Inspector.’

  They shook hands.

  ‘Thank you for agreeing to this meeting and arranging it,’ he said appreciatively.

  ‘My pleasure. Shall we go in?’

  They entered, Tempest slinking in unnoticed.

  They signed in and were given a room key code. Amanda led the way to the canteen.

  ‘I expect you know this place pretty well after … what happened, and so on,’ commented Trelawney.

  ‘You could say that. I’ll be back here in the new year to start having healing sessions that may help the asthma.’ Amanda had ordered the drinks to be ready for them, Trelawney insisted on paying, and they made the final steps along the carpeted hall to the designated room.

  ‘How apt,’ commented the inspector, reading the name on the plaque.

  ‘Rosemary?’

  ‘“That’s for remembrance”,’ he quoted.

  ‘You know your Hamlet, I see,’ responded Amanda. ‘Well, unlike poor Ophelia, I hope to remain sane, at least for the duration of our conversation,’ she added playfully.

  ‘And I, for my part,’ Trelawney returned with a grin, ‘promise not to attempt to see off my mother’s latest boyfriend during the next hour!’

  Amanda laughed.

  ‘Not that I think she has a current favourite,’ he appended thoughtfully.

  ‘She has a number of suitors then?’

  ‘Yes and all far too young,’ he said disapprovingly.

  ‘Now,’ said Amanda inputting the code and opening the door, ‘you’re only saying that because she’s your mother. You know perfectly well that if it was any other woman you’d dismiss such a notion as prejudice and insist age should be no bar to happiness!’

  Trelawney, much struck by the accuracy of this observation, stopped still.

  ‘That’s very true, Miss Cadabra. How perceptive of you. Oh my word,’ he said, noticing the view through the floor-to-ceiling windows forming the wall opposite the door, ‘how wonderful.’

  Amanda smiled. ‘I’m glad you approve. I asked for one of these especially. That’s Lost Madley Meadow, a rare field carved long ago out of the thickness of the Wood. A place for the bunnies to play and where sheep may safely graze.’