by Adele Abbott
Witch Is When
Things Fell Apart
Published by Implode Publishing Ltd
© Implode Publishing Ltd 2015
The right of Adele Abbott to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved, worldwide. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, dead or alive, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Chapter 1
Breakfast at Aunt Lucy’s. Oh yeah! It didn’t get much better than that. It was only French toast, but she made it like no one else could. I obviously wasn’t the only one who thought so because the twins were there too, and they were dropping crumbs all over the carpet.
My name is Jill Gooder, and I’m a private investigator. I’d taken over the family business after my adoptive father died. My life had become much more complicated when I’d discovered that I was a witch.
I divided my time between Washbridge, which was in the human world, and Candlefield, which was home to all manner of supernaturals (sups for short). That’s where I was this morning, with Aunt Lucy and my cousins, Amber and Pearl—witches all of us.
“Girls! How many times do I have to tell you about dropping crumbs?” Aunt Lucy yelled.
“Sorry, Mum,” the twins chorused. They didn’t look particularly sorry as they each took another bite, and made even more mess.
“Why can’t you two use a plate?” Aunt Lucy scowled at them. “If Jill can do it, why can’t you?”
As soon as Aunt Lucy had disappeared back into the kitchen, Amber mocked, “If Jill can do it, why can’t you?”
“Jill’s such a good girl,” Pearl said, and then the two of them dissolved into giggles.
I did the adult thing, and stuck my tongue out at them. I was with Aunt Lucy on this one. I hated it when my adoptive sister, Kathy, and her kids descended on my nice, clean, tidy flat and left their mess behind.
The twins had given up on their hair dying exploits, and had both reverted to their natural colour of ginger—for now at least.
“How’s Cuppy C doing?” I glanced at my empty plate, and wondered if asking for a third slice of toast would border on greedy.
Cuppy C was the twins’ cake shop and tea room.
“Takings are up.” Amber was half way through her third slice.
“Business is good, but we’ve had a few problems with one of our cupcake suppliers,” Amber said, then turned to the kitchen. “Mum, can I have another slice, please?”
“Three is enough for anyone.”
Amber pouted.
“What’s the problem with the cakes?” I asked.
“We’ve been getting damaged cupcakes in our deliveries for a while now,” Pearl said.
“Why don’t you change supplier?”
“We use more than one already, but Christy’s cakes are by far and away the best.”
“Yeah.” Amber was eyeing her sister’s last half slice of toast. “Mrs Christy is super nice. She can’t understand why they’re having this problem. It’s like someone is deliberately sabotaging her. We’ve promised to stick with her for now, but if it keeps happening, we may have to reconsider.”
“Beryl Christie?” Aunt Lucy had rejoined us—her gaze surveying the trail of crumbs which led to the twins. “She and I go way back.”
“That’s one of the reasons we don’t want to drop her,” Amber said. “Hopefully, she’ll get things sorted out.”
“Hey, Mum. Have you told Jill your big news?”
Was that a clever ploy by Pearl to distract her mother from the crumbs? If so, it seemed to work.
“I’d hardly call it big news.”
“What’s happened?” I said.
“Tell her, Mum,” Amber pressed.
“It’s the first ever Candlefield Baking Competition this weekend,” Aunt Lucy said.
“Mum will win it hands down.” Amber edged away from the crumbs.
“No contest.” Pearl finished the last of her toast.
“I haven’t decided if I’m going to enter.” Aunt Lucy joined me on the sofa. “I’ve got a lot on.”
“You have to enter,” I said. “We can give you a hand around the house if you need time to focus on the baking, can’t we girls?”
The twins looked at me like I’d lost my mind.
“Yeah, I guess,” Pearl said, somewhat half-heartedly.
“I suppose so.” Amber sighed.
“Thanks, Jill.” Aunt Lucy beamed, and then turned to the girls. “I’m overwhelmed by your enthusiasm. You can start by cleaning up that trail of crumbs.”
The twins exchanged a glance.
“She was talking to you.”
“No, she was talking to you.”
Ten minutes, and one prolonged argument later, the twins took it in turns to vacuum the carpet while Aunt Lucy and I escaped into the kitchen.
“Those girls will be the death of me.” She grinned.
“Seriously though, you really should enter the competition.”
“Make sure your professional indemnity insurance is up to date first,” Grandma said. Neither of us had heard her come in over the sound of the vacuum. “You’ll need it to cover all the claims for food poisoning.”
“Good morning, Mother.” Aunt Lucy clenched her fists. “How good of you to honour us with your presence.”
“I’m only saying. I wouldn’t want you to bankrupt the family.”
“Grandma,” I said much louder than I’d intended. “Aunt Lucy is a fabulous baker.”
“Thank you, dear.” Aunt Lucy smiled at me.
“What’s for breakfast?” Grandma took a seat at the kitchen table. “And what’s that damn noise?”
The woman was unbelievable. If I’d been Aunt Lucy, I’d have told her to sling her hook.
“French toast.”
“I suppose that will have to do.” Grandma sighed. “Jill, go and tell whoever is making that noise to stop before I turn them into a termite.”
Any excuse to escape.
I gestured to Pearl to kill the vacuum.
“What?” she shouted.
“Grandma’s here. Turn it off!”
She still couldn’t hear what I was saying, so I walked across the room, and pressed the ‘off’ switch.
“Grandma’s here.” I pointed to the kitchen.
Pearl nodded.
“Let’s go,” Amber said in a whisper.
The three of us slipped out the back door, through the garden and onto the street.
“Is Grandma in a bad mood?” Pearl asked, as we made our way to Cuppy C.
“When is she not in a bad mood? She really annoys me when she criticises your mum’s cooking.”
“I know. It’s not like she can cook. Have you seen that vegetable soup she makes?”
“The one that looks like it’s made from dead toads?” I laughed.
“Smells like them too.”
“I don’t know why Mum puts up with it,” Amber said. “She should tell Grandma to make her own meals if she doesn’t like her cooking.”
Pearl laughed. “Like you would dare say that.”
“I didn’t say I’d say it, but Mum totally should.”
“Do you think Aunt Lucy will enter the competition?” I said.
“She’s more likely to now that Grandma has riled her.”
Was i
t possible Grandma had said what she did for that reason? Nah, she was just an evil witch.
“What do you think her chances of winning will be?”
“Hard to say. There are some good bakers in Candlefield, but a lot of them rely on magic. The competition is strictly no magic allowed—that should favour Mum.”
***
Cuppy C was already open for business. The twins had taken on and trained staff who could now effectively run the business when they weren’t there.
“How’s things?” Amber called to the young woman behind the cake counter.
“Another damaged delivery.”
“Christy’s?”
The young woman nodded. “I had to bin a quarter of them.”
The twins turned to one another. “We have to do something,” Pearl said.
“I know, but Mum won’t like it.”
“We can’t let things carry on like this.”
“Would you like me to look into it?” I offered. “Maybe I can find out what’s going on?”
“Would you?” Amber said.
“Sure, no problem.”
We’d just examined the latest Christy’s consignment. The boxes showed no sign of damage, but several of the cupcakes had been squashed.
“When will you be seeing Drake again?” Amber asked.
“I’m not sure I will be.”
“Why not?” Pearl looked as surprised as her sister by my response. “I thought you two had really hit it off.”
“We did, I guess.”
“So what’s wrong?” Amber said.
“If I tell you, you have to promise not to repeat it.”
“We promise.”
“Cross your hearts?”
They both did.
“After you’d shown the wedding photos to Daze, she took me to one side and told me that she knew Drake. It seems she arrested him some years ago.”
I’d been out with Drake a couple of times—nothing serious, but I’d enjoyed his company. I’d actually begun to think it might be leading somewhere when Daze had told me that she’d arrested him some years before. Daze’s real name was Daisy Flowers. She was a super sup, and an RR, which stood for Rogue Retriever. She brought rogue supernaturals back from the human world.
“Drake was a Rogue?” Amber looked surprised.
I nodded.
“What did he do?”
“I don’t know. I suppose I should have asked Daze, but I was too shocked at the time.”
“Have you said anything to him?”
I shook my head. “I’ve been kind of avoiding him since then. I don’t really know what I’m going to do.”
“Bummer!” Pearl said.
My thoughts exactly.
***
Before returning to Washbridge, I called in at Christy’s bakery. The small industrial unit on the outskirts of Candlefield had a bright red, pink and white sign with a picture of a cupcake on it. The twins had phoned ahead, so Beryl Christy was expecting me.
“Mrs Christy?”
“Call me Beryl.” She looked to be about the same age as Aunt Lucy, and shared the same quirkiness in dress and glasses. “You must be the new witch in town. I’ve heard a lot about you. Do come in.”
Beryl gave me a quick guided tour. The premises were spotlessly clean, and the whole operation seemed to run like clockwork. Several times, she offered me the opportunity to sample the goods, but I somehow managed to resist. Twenty minutes later, I was in her office—cup of tea in hand.
“I feel terrible about all of this,” she said. “I don’t want to lose the twins’ business, but I don’t blame them for being annoyed. It isn’t only them either, it’s happened with some of my other customers too.”
“Do you have any idea what might be causing the problem? Have you had a change of staff?”
“No, nothing like that. Most of my staff have been with me for years. I’m stumped. I can’t help but feel that it’s deliberate though—someone is trying to sabotage my business.”
“Maybe I can help, if you’ll allow me to.”
“How?”
“I work as a private investigator in the human world.”
“I’m not sure I need a private investigator.”
“The twins think you do.”
“I couldn’t afford to pay you.”
“I’ll accept cupcakes in lieu of payment. If they’re anywhere near as good as Aunt Lucy says, then it’ll be worth it.”
“What would you do exactly?”
“I’d like to start by working undercover at the bakery.”
“I suppose that would be okay. I’ll see what I can arrange.”
***
When I got back to Cuppy C, the twins were on a tea break. Did those girls actually ever do any work? I joined them at their favourite window table.
“Beryl Christy is a sweetheart,” I said.
“That’s why we don’t want to drop her. Did you come up with anything?” Pearl was cutting a strawberry cupcake in half. She had a theory that if she ate it in two halves, it was fewer calories—don’t ask.
“Give me a chance. I’m going to work there undercover.”
“Ooh, how exciting.” Amber clapped her hands. “Like a spy?”
“Yeah, something like that. It’ll be a couple of days before I can get started though.”
Pearl took a bite of the other half of her reduced-calorie cupcake. “Me and Amber are going clothes shopping later. Do you want to join us?”
“No, thanks. I have to get back to Washbridge. What’s the occasion, anyway?” As if they needed one.
They giggled. They giggled a lot.
“School reunion dance.” Amber could barely contain her excitement.
“And you actually want to go?” The idea of being reunited with my school friends—and I use the term loosely—was my idea of hell.
“Of course we do.”
“We can’t wait. It’ll be brill.”
“How often do they hold them?”
“This is the first one since we left. It’s going to be fantastic to see everyone again.”
“Are William and Alan looking forward to it?”
The twins were both engaged. Amber to William, a werewolf; Pearl to Alan, a vampire.
“They can’t go,” Pearl said. “Only those who attended the school can go.”
“No partners allowed?” I asked.
“No.” The twins exchanged a glance. “Well, that’s what we’ve told them. We don’t want them there—we want to meet up with old friends. Anyway, they’d only be bored.”
“Old friends, eh?” I was beginning to smell a rat. “Any particular old friends?”
“No.”
“Of course not.”
The twins were terrible liars.
***
“There’s a strange man in your office,” Mrs V said.
“Strange how?”
“You’ll see.”
The strange man was dressed in a floral shirt, lime green trousers and flip flops. His glasses were all the colours of the rainbow.
“Over there, I see glass, and chrome. Lots of chrome,” he said. “Velvet for the curtains. Dark blue.”
“Excuse me!” I said.
“He pirouetted around to face me. “Who are you? Can’t you see I’m busy? You’ve interrupted my flow.”
“What exactly are you doing here?”
“I’m re-imagining this space. I’m thinking maybe cyber chic with a hint of Paris.”
Either I was still asleep or the local coffee shop had put something strange in my latte.
Winky beckoned me to one side, and whispered, “This is Maurice. The man is a genius.”
“What’s he doing here?”
“He’s going to give the office a makeover.”
Over my dead body. I glared at Winky. “Excuse me, Morris,” I said.
“My name is pronounced Maurice—like Chevalier—not Morris. Maurice Montage.”
“Well, Monsieur Montage.” I gave it my best
French accent, which if I’m honest was more Grimsby than Paris. “I’m Mademoiselle Jill Gooder, and this is my office.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” He took my hand and kissed it. “This office has such potential. You were so right to call me in. The sooner we get rid of this—” he waved his hand around the room, “the better.”
“I didn’t call you in.”
“Your secretary then?”
“No it was—” I looked down at Winky.
“Yes?” Maurice Montage said.
“It was—err—I mean—that’s to say—I guess I did contact you. I must have forgotten.”
What else was I supposed to say? I could hardly tell Monsieur Montage that he’d been called in by my cat. Not unless I wanted the men in white coats to appear and cart me away. Instead, I spent an excruciating hour listening to Maurice’s vision for the office.
“I can have this place transformed in a matter of weeks,” he said when the ordeal finally came to an end.
“Great.” I turned to Winky and whispered, “No salmon for you ever again.”
“I’ll let you have a quotation in writing within the next three days,” he said, as he glided out of the room.
“Can’t wait.” And I know just where I’ll file it.
“I like the sound of cyber chic,” Winky said.
Chapter 2
“Today, I have a special treat for the three of you,” Grandma said.
Amber looked at Pearl. Pearl looked at me. I looked at Amber. No words were necessary; each of us knew what the others were thinking.
“You could look a little happier about it.” Grandma took a deep sigh. “Ungrateful girls.”
It was the day of our magic lesson. They were never fun, and I was under no illusion (no pun intended) that her so called ‘special treat’ would be anything but a treat.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what it is?”
I bit. “What’s the special treat, Grandma?”
“I’m pleased you asked. First though, I want to pose you a question. What’s the difference between magic and an illusion?”
Neither Amber nor Pearl seemed in any hurry to step in.
