by Adele Abbott
“Are you and Jack living together now?”
“No, but we certainly see a lot more of one another than we used to. Living together will probably be the next step, but that scares me. It doesn’t feel right to enter into a relationship with someone knowing full well that you’ll always have to keep secrets from them. It struck me that you must come across this dilemma all the time. Presumably every witch who goes through your books has to face this problem.”
“You’re right, they do. And I wish I could tell you that there’s an easy solution, but I’d be lying. It’s difficult for all of our witches. Some of them handle it better than others. Some can keep that part of their life secret from their partner, and not feel any guilt. Others struggle. Many of them have sat exactly where you’re sitting right now, and said much the same as you’ve just said.”
“Have you been able to help them?”
“I’m not sure that I have, to be honest. The best situation is one where a witch has no family in Candlefield because then there’s less to hide. Where a witch does have family, it’s much more difficult because, inevitably, she’ll want to keep in touch with them. Juggling both ‘lives’ is not easy.”
“Surely things must go wrong occasionally? There must be instances where a witch has done or said something that’s given her away?”
“It does happen. There’s no question about that.”
“What happens in such instances?”
“It all depends. If the transgression comes to the attention of the powers-that-be in Candlefield, then it’s quite likely they’ll send a Rogue Retriever to bring back the witch. That would basically be the end of the relationship.”
“That’s terrible. What happens to the husband in such cases?”
“That’s the real tragedy. They’ll have no idea where their wife went. They’ll most likely report her as missing to the police, and may even try to convince them that she’s a witch. If they do that, the police are likely to write the husband off as a nutter. It’s a terrible state of affairs all around.”
“You said if the transgression gets back to the powers-that-be. Does that mean sometimes it doesn’t?”
“I can’t be sure. I suspect that there are a few cases where the husband finds out his wife is a witch, but where they’re able to keep a lid on it. That can only happen if their relationship is strong enough to withstand such a shock, and if the husband is capable of keeping their secret. I’d be very surprised if there aren’t at least a few couples who fall into that category, but that’s pure speculation.”
Although Hilary hadn’t been able to offer me a ‘magic pill’ to resolve my dilemma, she had at least given me something to think about. It had never occurred to me that there might be couples living happily in Washbridge where the husband knew his wife was a witch.
***
I was on my way back to the office, and had just walked into the building when I bumped into Armi.
“Hello there, Jill. You’re looking exceptionally beautiful today, I must say. I’ve just been chatting with Annabel. She’s in jolly good form, and that blue hair of hers is absolutely delightful, don’t you think?”
“Err—yes—it’s very nice.”
The quiet, little, wouldn’t say boo to a goose man had been transformed into Mr Self-Confidence. It appeared my spell had done the trick.
“I can’t stop, Jill. I have a couple of errands to run. I’ll catch up with you and Annabel later. Too-da-loo.”
“Too-da-loo, Armi.”
My goodness.
Mrs V looked in a state of shock. “Did you see him, Jill?”
“Armi? Yes.”
“Whatever happened to him? He’s like a different man. He came in here, complemented me on my hair, and then planted a huge kiss on my lips.” She half blushed/half smiled.
“He’s a bit of a dark horse, isn’t he? Do you like the new Armi?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t had time to think about it yet. I’m still in shock.”
“Well, at least now he’ll be able to stand up to Gordon.”
“I suppose so. That’s a good thing, at least.”
When I walked into my office, it was like deja vu. The small dining table was back, and had been set for a meal. Winky was busy polishing the cutlery.
“Are you entertaining Katrina again?”
“Definitely not. I couldn’t put up with that a second time. I’m still having nightmares about the noises she made when she ate.”
“What’s this then? Are you expecting another candidate from Purrfect Match?”
“If you must know, Bella is coming over tonight.”
“She is?”
“I’ve given the matter serious consideration, and I’ve come to the conclusion that Socks was to blame. Bella should have known better, but my brother can be very persuasive. He’s always been a bit of a ladies’ man. I’ve decided to give her the benefit of the doubt, and another chance.”
“That’s very magnanimous of you.”
“I know. I’m a fool to myself sometimes.”
“I’m really pleased. You and Bella make such a lovely couple.”
“Don’t get carried away, Jill. It’s only dinner. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot to prepare.”
I could have objected to my office being taken over yet again, but I was so pleased that Winky and Bella were back together, I decided to go home early, and leave him to his preparations.
Back at my flat, I’d been waylaid by Mr Ivers.
“I’m glad I’ve bumped into you, Jill.”
That makes one of us.
“You and I are the only people in this building who aren’t terminally boring,” he said.
Huh?
“Take that Betty Longbottom, for example. All she’s interested in, is crustaceans and the likes. It’s enough to drive you insane.”
“Betty’s okay.”
Why was I sticking up for the tax inspecting, jelly fish wielding little minx?
“And then there’s Luther Stone. Since he’s taken up with Betty, all he wants to talk about is sea creatures. It’s like she’s got him under a spell. I sometimes wonder if she’s a witch.”
“You might have something there.”
“The two of them cornered me earlier today.” Mr Ivers shook his head. “I had stereo crustaceans coming at me. It was horrible.”
“You’re right. There’s nothing worse than being trapped by someone intent on boring you to death.”
“Precisely. Anyway, you’ll be pleased to hear that I’ve just finished this month’s newsletter.”
Oh irony, thou art a cruel neighbour.
He was still talking—apparently. “I’m waiting for my new toner cartridge to arrive, so I can print them off. But, don’t worry. I’ll get the next issue to you PDQ.”
“PDQ? Great. IDNC.” I. Do. Not. Care.
I’d made myself macaroni and cheese. It was all I could be bothered with, but it hit the mark. I was enjoying the last few mouthfuls when the room became a little chilly, and my mother appeared.
“Is that all you’re having to eat, Jill?”
“It’s what I fancied.”
“It’s hardly a meal, is it? With all the stresses and strains your job entails, you need more than macaroni and cheese.”
“Have you come here just to nag me?”
“That’s a mother’s job.”
“You didn’t nag me for the first twenty odd years of my life.”
“No, but I wanted to when I saw some of the things you got up to.”
“Was there another reason for your visit today? Other than to criticise my diet?”
“Actually, I wanted to tell you how pleased I am that you and Jack are seeing more of one another.”
“And you know that, how?”
“A mother knows these things.”
“In other words, you’ve been following us.”
“Of course not.”
“So you weren’t at The Old Trout the other day?”
“Mum, what have I told you? I don’t want you looking over my shoulder all the time.”
“No. Obviously, but I do think that this man is a good catch, so don’t go doing anything stupid, again.”
“What do you mean again?”
“You have a bad habit of opening your mouth before your brain has engaged.”
“Thanks! “
“Sorry. I’ll keep my nose out.”
“That’s the most sensible thing you’ve said since you got here.”
“Okay, I’ll go. I know when I’m not wanted.”
“Wait! There is something I’d like to ask you.”
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to stick my nose in.”
“Touché. I’ve been giving a lot of thought to how a relationship between a witch and a human might work. Relationships should be based on trust and honesty, but if I was to be with Jack, I wouldn’t be able to tell him that I’m a witch. Effectively, I’d be lying to him.”
“That’s just how it is, unless you take another sup as a partner.”
“Someone suggested that there are relationships between witches and humans where the husband does know his wife is a witch, but because he’s able to keep that a secret, they’re able to carry on without any interference from Candlefield.”
“Who’s this someone who’s been advising you?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“I’d call that very bad advice. Such a relationship would be fraught with danger. A wrong word at the wrong time, and the next thing you know, the Rogue Retrievers would be called into action, and that would be the end of the marriage.”
“I guess you’re right. Okay, thanks.”
Not long after my mother had disappeared, my phone rang. I didn’t recognise the man’s voice.
“Is that Jill Gooder?”
“Speaking.”
“It’s Stuart Steele. We met in Bar Fish.”
“Yes, Stuart. I’m sorry about what happened yesterday.”
“Me too. It was a terrible thing. That’s why I’m calling, actually. I wondered whether you’d be prepared to come and see me. I need someone to find out exactly what happened.”
“Surely the police are doing that?”
“Yes, but based on past experience, I’m not convinced that things will move as quickly as I need them to. If this isn’t cleared up soon, it could be very bad for my plans to franchise the business. Would you at least be prepared to come to my house to talk to me?”
I hesitated. I knew what Jack would say if he found out I was involved.
“Sure. Give me your address, and I’ll come over there tomorrow.”
Chapter 8
“Jill, I’m really worried,” Mrs V said, as soon as I walked into the office the next morning.
“What’s happened now?”
“It’s Armi.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yeah, no. I don’t know. You remember I told you he came in yesterday, and gave me a kiss?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, he’s just done it again. He came bursting in, kissed me, and asked me to go to Paris for the weekend.”
“Wow! Did you say you’d go?”
“I think so. It all happened so quickly.”
“That’s great, isn’t it? Paris is lovely at this time of year.”
“I know. I really want to go, but I can’t figure out what’s happened to Armi. Last week I could barely get two words out of him. He was so shy, quiet, and reserved, but now he’s like a man possessed.”
“Maybe that’s the effect you have on him, Mrs V.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Jill. Something’s happened. Do you think he’s on drugs or something?”
“Armi? No, he’s not the kind of man to take drugs. Maybe being with you has given him the confidence he’s always been missing.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Definitely.” Or maybe not.
***
It was a while since I’d seen Aunt Lucy, so I magicked myself over to her house where I found her sitting at the kitchen table. She looked down in the dumps; it looked as though there were tears in her eyes.
“Aunt Lucy, are you okay?”
“Sorry, Jill. I didn’t realise you were here. Yes, I’m fine.” She wiped her eyes. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
“It’s okay. I’ll make one for both of us. You stay where you are.”
I made tea, put a few custard creams on a plate, and joined her at the kitchen table.
“Aunt Lucy, I know something’s wrong.” I put my hand on hers. “What is it? Is it Lester?”
“No dear. Everyone’s all right. It’s not the family; it’s just me being silly.”
“About what?”
“This article.” She pushed a newspaper towards me.
“Homeless Fairies?”
“It’s so sad. Have you come across the starlight fairies before?”
“I don’t think so.”
“They’re delightful little people. They’re the tiniest sups in Candlefield—the size of a pinhead. Their population has exploded over recent years, but housing for them hasn’t kept pace, and now lots of them are homeless.”
“I always thought fairies lived in the woods.”
“In the human world, maybe, but here in Candlefield they normally live in houses like the rest of us. A friend of mine, Diane Bayswater, runs FairyAid, a charity which is trying to help them. She’s asked if I’ll help out.”
“Raising funds?”
“I suppose so. I’m going to meet with her in the next couple of days to see what she’d like me to do.”
“If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”
“That’s very generous, Jill, but I think you’ve already done enough with your work for SupAid.”
***
I hadn’t told Jack that I was going to see Stuart Steele. He wouldn’t have been very happy if he’d known, but I had a business to run, and a living to earn.
I arrived at Stuart’s house ten minutes before the time we’d agreed. It was a large house, and had obviously cost a pretty penny. As I arrived, a tow-truck, with the name Beeline Motors and the logo of a cute bee driving a car, was picking up a black four-by-four from in front of the house.
Stuart answered the door. “Jill, thank you very much for coming.” He must have seen me glance at the car. “They’re taking it in for repair; it packed up on me yesterday.”
“Mine broke down the other day in the middle of nowhere. If it hadn’t been for Malcolm the mobile barber, I would have been in a real pickle.”
“Mobile barber?”
“Yes, he’s a funny little guy. He has a mobile barber shop which he insists on parking in the middle of nowhere.”
“How does he get customers?”
“He doesn’t; at least, not many. But he seems happy enough, so who are we to question him?”
“Let’s go through to the living room.”
There were fish tanks embedded in the walls of the corridors, and in the living room was a large open-topped tank with glass steps leading up to it.
“Fascinating aren’t they?” he said. “Would you like to feed them?”
“No, thanks. I take it this is a hobby of yours?”
“It is indeed—ever since I was a child. My father bought my first fish tank for me when I was six years old, and it grew from there. I eventually started my own shop—you may have seen it: Something Fishy. It’s in Washbridge, close to the library.”
“I can’t say I have.”
“Bar Fish is the next step in my plan for world fish domination. If it’s successful, I hope to sell franchises. Hopefully, you’ll soon see a Bar Fish in cities throughout the country.” He frowned. “Of course, after last night, things aren’t looking quite so rosy.”
“Did you know Starr Fish?”
“I’m
not really a fan of reality TV, but you’d have to be blind and deaf not to have heard of her. She was never off the front pages of the tabloids, and all over the internet. I’d heard that she’d disappeared, but that was as much as I knew about her.”
“If you didn’t know her, why would you want to spend money to find out who killed her?”
“Pure self-interest, I must confess. The longer this drags on, the worse it will be for Bar Fish. If it can be cleared up quickly, maybe I can still salvage something out of the situation. Would there be a problem with Jack if you were to take on the case?”
“Not a problem as such, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer not to mention it to him. I wouldn’t want him to think I was treading on his toes.”
“Absolutely. A nod is as good as a wink. I would like you to give me regular updates though.”
“Of course.”
***
As I walked past the newsagent, I noticed The Bugle’s front page, and couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I’d thought The Bugle had already plunged the depths of gutter journalism, but this took it to a whole new sordid level. The photo on the front page was of Starr Fish in the tank at Bar Fish. Her dead eyes seemed to be staring through the glass at the lens of the camera. How could anyone publish that? How would her family feel when they saw it? It made my blood boil.
I rushed straight over to their offices, burst through reception, and made a beeline for Dougal Bugle’s desk.
“If it isn’t Jill Gooder. To what do we owe this pleasure?”
“This!” I waved a copy of The Bugle in his face.
“Did you come to congratulate me on another brilliant article?”
“How could you publish a photograph like this?”
“We’re only reporting the news.”
“You could have done that without the photo. What about her poor family? How do you think they’ll feel when they see this?”
“I think they have bigger things to worry about. And besides, I don’t see what it’s got to do with you.”
“I want to know who took this photo.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s confidential.”
