Witch is How The Dice Fell

by Adele Abbott

“Typically, what’s the value of a pair of clown’s shoes?”

  “It can vary dramatically, but one shoe by itself is practically worthless.”

  “That’s what’s been bothering me. Whoever is behind this can’t be doing it for the money or they’d steal both shoes. What about your competition? Have you considered this could be sabotage?”

  “Out of the question.” Breezy was adamant. “The only other clown school in a hundred-mile radius is Red Nose, but they’re at least an hour’s drive from Washbridge. We’re no threat to them, and besides Raymond is the nicest man you could ever wish to meet.”

  “Is he the owner of the other school?”

  “Yes. His name is Raymond Higgins, but he’s better known as PomPom. We’ve known him for years, haven’t we, Sneezy?”

  “That’s right. The man is beyond reproach.”

  “Okay. Have you noticed any pattern to when the shoes go missing?”

  “Not really because some customers didn’t realise that they’d lost a shoe until they unpacked their bags at home.”

  “I seem to remember that I-Sweat had CCTV. Do you still have that?”

  “Unfortunately not. We had to make a lot of changes to the layout of the rooms, and that meant taking down the cameras. The CCTV needs a total rewire and to be honest, we don’t have the money at the moment.”

  Just then, the biggest, ugliest cat I’d ever seen jumped onto the desk between us.

  “You know you shouldn’t be on there,” Sneezy chided him gently.

  “He’s a big lad.” I pushed my chair a couple of inches back from the desk.

  “Bruiser,” Breezy said.

  “Yeah, he looks like one.”

  “No.” Breezy smiled an enormous clown smile. “That’s his name: Bruiser.”

  “You do know that you aren’t allowed to keep animals in the building, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but we knew that you had a cat in your office, so we figured we’d be okay.”

  “If Macabre gets wind of it, you’ll be out.”

  “What about your cat, Wonky?”

  “His name is Winky. I have to hide him whenever the landlord is about. It’s not worth the hassle, trust me.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be okay.” Breezy stroked the purring cat. “We couldn’t throw Bruiser out.”

  “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Talking of Macabre, I bumped into his maintenance guy on the way in.”

  “He’s been sorting out a few odd jobs. Mainly the radiators, they all needed bleeding. And a couple of loose window catches.”

  “Right. I’d better get going.”

  “You’ll keep us posted on the shoe situation?”

  “Of course.”

  When I left Clown, Bruiser followed me out of the door.

  “Hey, you!” He bawled. “You and me need to have words.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I heard you trying to get me thrown out.”

  “I wasn’t. I was just saying—”

  “Keep your nose out. It’s got nothing to do with you.”

  “Please yourself.”

  “And you’d better tell that ugly one-eyed fleabag of yours that there’s a new cat on the block, and if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay out of my way.”

  Charming.

  Alistair was beavering away at his desk, with one finger up his nostril, but minus the clown shoes.

  “I thought you were scared someone might steal your shoes?” I said.

  “Sorry?” He looked up, puzzled.

  “I meant your clown shoes.”

  “What’s wrong with these?” He swivelled around on his chair. “I really like brogues.”

  “Err, no, yes, they’re nice. Very nice indeed.”

  “But you just called them clown shoes.”

  “Sorry. My little joke. Just ignore me.”

  Mrs V coughed, and when I turned around, she was looking at something on the cupboard behind her.

  “Is that your trophy?”

  “Oh, that little thing? I didn’t think you’d even notice it.” She passed it to me. The inscription read:

  Washbridge Hula Hoop Marathon 2018

  Winner: Annabel Versailles.

  “I didn’t realise you stood to win a trophy.”

  “Neither did I. I told them they shouldn’t have bothered, but Yarn Aid said it was the least they could do in view of how much money was raised. They’re going to make it an annual event, and throw it open to all Washbridge residents from next year.”

  “I assume you’ll be back to defend your title?”

  “Of course.” She bent down to pick up a hula hoop from under her desk. “I intend to practise regularly from now on. You’re welcome to join me. It’s a great way to keep fit.”

  “Thanks, but I already have a pretty rigorous keep-fit regime.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What on earth are you doing, Winky?”

  He was breathing so hard that he could barely speak. “What does it look like?”

  “Can you stop punching that for a minute.”

  He stepped back from the punch bag that was hanging from the ceiling. “What do you want?”

  “Why do you have a punch bag, and where did you get those boxing gloves from?”

  “CatPugilists.com, obviously.”

  “Obviously. Aren’t there easier ways to get in shape?”

  “This is not about getting into shape. This is about defending my territory.”

  “Right.” Now it made sense. “I take it you know there’s a new cat in Clown, then.” I laughed. “See what I did there? Clown. Town. Get it?”

  “You’re as hilarious as ever. Yes, I have met him. He and I had a brief tête-à-tête earlier.”

  “He’s a monster, Winky. He’d wipe the floor with you. I should steer clear of him if I were you.”

  “Is that a joke? Winky walks in fear of no cat. My reputation would be in tatters if I ran scared of a chancer like that. Even his name is a joke. Bruiser?” He scoffed. “He’ll have plenty of those when I’ve done with him.”

  ***

  I finished work early because I needed to call at the bed shop on my way home. Mission accomplished, I arrived home just in time to see a bull and a bear come out of next door.

  “Hi, Tony. Hi, Clare. I take it you have a con this week.”

  “Yes, it’s on Saturday,” Tony the bull said. “We thought about cancelling because we have so much work to do for TenPinCon, but it seemed a shame to waste the costumes.”

  “Can you guess what it is?” Clare the bear said.

  “Err, ZooCon?”

  “No.”

  “Is it Animals-Beginning-With-The-Letter-B-Con?”

  “That’s very funny, but no. It’s StockMarketCon. Get it?”

  “Not really.”

  “There’s what they call a bull market, and a bear market.”

  “Right.” It didn’t make a lick of sense to me, but I wasn’t interested enough to ask for an explanation. “Well, good luck as always.”

  “Thanks. And tell Jack we’re really excited to hear his marketing plans for TenPinCon.”

  ***

  “Why have you bought a new duvet?” Jack said when he arrived home. “The two we already have are practically brand new.”

  “I need the duck feathers.” I took out a large black plastic sack, cut open the duvet, and shook the feathers into it.

  “And why do you need duck feathers?”

  “To catch a dream vampire.”

  “Right.” He pondered on that for a few seconds. “Okay, that makes no sense. How are duck feathers going to help you to catch a vampire?”

  “It’s not actually a vampire. People just call them dream vampires but they’re really creatures called Radix.”

  “So why call them dream vampires?”

  “Because they feed on people’s dreams. I think one may be stealing Lizzie’s.”

  “How exactly do they steal them?”

  “
They suck them out of your head.”

  “Yuk!” He shuddered. “How do you know?”

  “Kathy mentioned Lizzie had been complaining that she couldn’t dream. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I assumed she just couldn’t remember them, but then today I bumped into Daze and Blaze. They’re on the lookout for a gang of rogue dream vampires operating in Washbridge.”

  “Did you tell them about Lizzie?”

  “No, I didn’t want them to scare her. I thought it would be best if I dealt with it myself.”

  “I still don’t get what the feathers are for?”

  “The Radix are invisible. The only way to see them is to cover them with duck feathers.”

  “Right. You don’t think Peter’s parents might think it’s strange if you show up with a bagful of feathers?”

  “Good point. I’ll leave the bag in the boot of the car until they’ve left.”

  Chapter 18

  Kathy and Peter had set off for London mid-afternoon. The kids had been collected from school by Peter’s parents who’d stayed with them until we arrived at just before seven o’clock.

  When we got there, Mikey was playing a fishing game on the computer.

  “Do you want to play, Uncle Jack?” he offered.

  “Okay.” Jack turned to me and whispered, “I’ll take it easy on him.”

  “Auntie Jill, come and look at my dolls’ house.” Lizzie already had her PJs on.

  I followed her up to her bedroom where the dolls’ house was on the floor, at the end of the bed.

  “Does the furniture fit in there okay?”

  “Yes, Mummy says it could have been made for it.” She crouched down next to the dolls’ house. “Look inside.”

  “It looks fantastic.”

  “We found lots of things in the drawers and cupboards.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “Most of it was rubbish, but we did find all these trophies.” She pointed to a row of them on top of the sideboard.

  “I’ve lost the little bear, though.” She frowned.

  “Never mind. It was a funny shape anyway.”

  “Did you have a dolls’ house when you were little, Auntie Jill?”

  “I don’t think I did. I mainly played with my beanies.”

  “The ones you gave to me?”

  Gave? They were stolen, more like. “That’s right.”

  It was Lizzie’s bedtime. After brushing her teeth, she climbed into bed.

  “Will Mummy and Daddy be back in the morning?”

  “They get back about lunchtime. Your Grandma and Grandpa will be here in the morning to take you to school.” I tucked her in and gave her a kiss. “Goodnight.”

  “Night, night. I hope I dream tonight.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  Downstairs, Jack and Mikey were still playing on the computer.

  “Uncle Jack is rubbish at this!” Mikey shouted. “I’ve won every game.”

  Jack’s attempt to look nonchalant failed miserably.

  “Come on, Mikey. It’s time for bed.”

  “Can I just finish this game, please, Auntie Jill?”

  “Okay, but make it quick.”

  Twenty minutes later, I took Mikey up to bed. When I came back downstairs, Jack was watching TV, so I sat next to him on the sofa.

  “The fishing game was a whitewash, then?” I grinned.

  “I let him win.”

  “Every time?”

  “It’s a stupid game, anyway.”

  “You’ll never guess what I saw in Lizzie’s dolls’ house?”

  “She hasn’t broken my furniture already, has she?”

  “No, it’s fine. She found a load of teeny tiny trophies.”

  “Oh no. My bowling trophies? I’d forgotten they were in the cupboard.”

  “You’ll be pleased to know she has them out on display.”

  “I suppose that’s something. You never let me do that.”

  ***

  I wanted to give the kids enough time to fall asleep before I made my move, so while I waited, Jack and I had a glass of wine.

  Once I was sure the kids were asleep, I crept outside and retrieved the black sack from the boot of the car.

  “Is there anything I can do?” Jack offered.

  “Not really. You may as well get some practice on that fishing game in case Mikey wants to play you again in the morning.”

  “I’m not that bothered.”

  Despite what he’d said, I knew that Jack would be on the computer as soon as I was out of the room.

  I’d deliberately left Lizzie’s bedroom door ajar, so that I didn’t wake her when I crept in there. Being careful not to trip over the dolls’ house, I made my way to the armchair next to the window. After hiding the bag behind the chair, I made myself invisible, took a seat and waited.

  I was only too aware that this could all prove to be a total waste of time. I wasn’t one-hundred percent certain that Lizzie’s dream issue was the result of a dream vampire, and even if it was, I wasn’t sure that I’d know when they struck.

  All I could do was sit, wait and make sure I didn’t fall asleep.

  Ouch! I woke with a crick in my neck. Drat, despite my best efforts I’d nodded off.

  Lizzie was still fast asleep, but there was something different about her. Before my nap, she’d been sleeping peacefully, but now she was moving her head from side to side, and making an awful groaning sound.

  It was possible she was just having a nightmare, but it was also possible that the dream vampire was sucking out her dreams. There was only one way to find out.

  I grabbed the bag from behind the chair, tiptoed over to the bed, and tipped the feathers over Lizzie’s head. As I did, two things happened: First, the tiny Radix became visible. Dreamy, it most certainly was not; the ugly, gargoyle-like creature had its long tongue inside Lizzie’s ear.

  “Leave her alone!”

  Clearly shocked at being discovered, it withdrew its tongue, jumped off the bed, and headed towards the door, which I’d foolishly left ajar.

  The second thing that happened was that Lizzie woke and sat up in bed.

  “What happened, Auntie Jill?” The poor little mite was covered in feathers.

  “Your pillow ripped open.” I took it off the bed.

  “I’m covered in feathers.”

  “You look like a little chicken.”

  “I do, don’t I?” She smiled.

  “Why don’t you get out of bed, and brush all the feathers off you while I take this pillow and mend it.”

  “Okay.”

  I rushed downstairs.

  “Have you seen it?”

  “Seen what?” Jack was still playing the computer game.

  “The Ridax. It came down here.”

  “What does it look like?”

  “Just how many tiny creatures do you think there are likely to be running around down here? It’s ugly and it’s covered in feathers.”

  “Will I even be able to see it?”

  “Probably not, but you’ll certainly be able to see the feathers. Quick, get looking. We can’t let it escape. You take the dining room and I’ll take the kitchen.”

  Although Jack looked nervous, he didn’t argue.

  The kitchen was in darkness, so I switched on the light. There were no sounds, and no sign of feathers.

  “Jill!” Jack called from the dining room. “Quick!”

  “Have you seen it?” I met him at the door.

  “No, but look over there.” He pointed to a trail of feathers that led behind the drinks cabinet.

  “Go and get me something to put it in,” I whispered.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. Anything.”

  “Okay.”

  We had it cornered because the only way out of the dining room was back through the door where I was standing guard.

  “Is this okay?” Jack held up a biscuit barrel. “Is it big enough?”

  “Yeah. Give it here.”
I was just about to make my move when something rattled inside the barrel. “Why didn’t you take the biscuits out?”

  “I never thought to.”

  “Great. Hold out your hands.” I took off the lid, and tipped the biscuits into his hands. “Wait here.”

  I crept slowly over towards the drinks cabinet. As I got closer, I could hear the tiny creature breathing, heavily. I would have to time this just right.

  As soon as I showed myself, the Radix tried to make a run for it, but I was too quick. I dropped the barrel over the creature, then tipped it up, and slammed on the lid.

  “Got it!”

  “Well done!” Jack came over to join me.

  “Jill?” Kathy was standing in the doorway. “What’s going on?”

  “I—err, dropped the biscuit barrel. What are you doing back?”

  “Pete started to feel queasy, so we turned around and came home. He’s in the loo.”

  “Mummy, you’re back!” Lizzie must have heard her mother’s voice and come downstairs.

  “Why are you covered in feathers?”

  “My pillow broke.”

  “Broke? How does a pillow break?”

  “I don’t know.” Lizzie shrugged. “I was asleep when it happened.”

  “Right. Well, we’d better get you back to bed, then Auntie Jill and I can have a little chat.”

  “What are we going to do?” Jack said.

  “We need to get rid of the Radix.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll put it in the boot of the car. While I’m out there, get the scissors, cut open this pillow, and get rid of the feathers.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s supposed to have ripped open.”

  “Right. What shall I do with the feathers?”

  “I don’t know. Use your imagination.”

  I rushed out to the car, tipped the Radix into the car boot, and slammed the lid closed. Back in the house, Jack was in the lounge, holding the empty pillowcase.

  “Where are the biscuits?” I said.

  “I put them in the waste bin.”

  “What? Why would you do that?”

  “I needed both hands to sort out the pillow.”

  I hurried through to the kitchen, put the empty biscuit barrel on the worktop, and then rushed back into the lounge to re-join Jack.