by Adele Abbott
“I did warn you.”
“I know. Don’t rub it in. Anyway, what are you doing here? I didn’t think you’d want to be anywhere near your grandmother.”
“I had to get out of the office. Mrs V’s gone missing. Her sister’s taken over her job temporarily, and she’s driving me crazy. She’s been trying to tell me how to run my business, and now she wants us to have a strategy meeting. Worst of all, she’s going to throw out all of Mrs V’s scarves and socks.”
“Oh no she isn’t,” someone yelled.
The sudden interruption took us both by surprise. I looked around to see the same old biddy who’d been there the last time I was in the tea room. She stood up, and removed her hat, wig, and glasses.
“Mrs V?”
“What’s that sister of mine up to?”
“Never mind that.” I stared at her in disbelief. “What are you up to? I’ve been worried about you. I thought something might have happened to you.”
“I’ve been hiding from G. I said in my note that you shouldn’t worry. I didn’t want to be around while she was here.”
“How long have you been hanging out in here?”
“Every day since I found out G was coming. I thought I’d better wear a disguise, so your sister didn’t recognise me. What’s G doing?”
“When I left, she’d taken all of your scarves and socks out of the desk and the filing cabinet, and she was about to put them in bin bags.”
“Over my dead body,” said Mrs V. “We have to stop her, Jill.”
“We? What am I supposed to do?”
“You have to get rid of her.”
“She won’t listen to me. If I go back there, she’ll insist on having a strategy meeting.”
I turned to Kathy. “You do something.”
“Me—what can I do?”
“I’ve got an idea.” Mrs V grinned.
“This is never going to work,” Kathy said.
“Of course it will,” I insisted. “You’re good at this sort of thing.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Jill. I don’t see why you can’t make the phone call.”
“She’ll recognise my voice.”
“What am I supposed to say?”
“We’ve told you what to say. Go on—just pick up the phone and ring her.”
Kathy sighed, but she made the phone call anyway.
“Hello, is that Mrs G?” Kathy had put on her ‘Sunday best’ voice. “Oh good. This is Pauletta Peters from Wool TV—yes I’m very well thank you. And you? Good. I realise this is very short notice, but we have a spot on our prime time show, ‘Wool World’, this evening, and we’d really love to interview you, if you’re available. You are? That’s excellent. No, we don’t want you to come to the studio. The whole point of the programme is that we interview you in your home, and get you to talk us through all of your achievements in the world of yarn. You’re away from home at the moment? How disappointing. You can get back there? Good. You’ll have to hurry because the camera crew will be making their way there shortly. Okay, well we’ll see you at your place later. Thank you. Goodbye.”
“That was brilliant, Kathy,” Mrs V said. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re a natural.” I patted her on the shoulder. “You should join Washbridge Am dram.”
“You two owe me big time.”
“What’s going on out here?” Grandma came charging out of the back office. “I thought you were meant to be running my shop!” she shouted at Kathy. “Not chatting to your sister.”
“I was just—”
“Never mind that. Get on with the subscriptions or something.”
Kathy scurried away.
“And you two,” Grandma said. “What do you think you’re doing distracting my staff when they’re supposed to be working? I have my bottom line to think of.”
Mrs V shrugged and turned to me. “Thanks for that Jill. By the time I get back, the coast should be clear. Hopefully G won’t have had time to throw away my scarves and socks.”
“I’ll walk back to the office with you.” I offered.
“Just a minute, young lady,” Grandma interrupted. “Annabel, you can go.” She dismissed Mrs V with a wave of her hand, and then turned to me. “I want a word with you.”
Great!
“Let’s go in the back.”
“Must we?”
“Yes, it’s better that we talk in there. This is a matter of the utmost importance.”
Oh no.
“Have a seat,” she ordered.
“I really am quite busy.”
“Have a seat.”
I did as I was instructed.
“You’ll no doubt be aware that Candlefield is going to the dogs,” she said.
“I can’t say I’d noticed.”
“You’ll just have to take my word for it. I’ve lived there long enough to know, and I’m telling you, the place is falling to pieces. And, do you know why?”
I had a feeling she was going to tell me.
“I’ll tell you why.”
See—I knew it.
“The town council doesn’t have a clue. It’s about time they had someone on there who actually knows their ass from their elbow.”
“And that someone would be?”
“That someone would be me, of course. A vacancy has arisen because Ben Benjamin has decided to retire, so there’s going to be an election. I intend to stand.”
“Well that’s great. I’m really pleased. I’m sure you’ll do a terrific job. But anyway, as I said, I am quite—”
“Sit down. I haven’t finished with you yet. I need a campaign manager, and I’ve decided that you’re the person for the job.”
“I don’t know anything about election campaigns.”
“You don’t know anything about being a P.I., but you seem to muddle through. You just need to talk a lot, and you can certainly do that.”
“I don’t talk all that much.”
“Be quiet. So, as of now, you are officially the campaign manager for Mirabel Millbright. Any questions?”
***
My head was still spinning with the election campaign when I got back to my flat that evening. As soon as I walked through the door, I heard a noise, and was immediately on my guard. Was this another attempt by TDO to get to me? I crept slowly towards the kitchen and pushed open the door.
“Mum?”
“Jill? I didn’t realise you’d be back just yet.”
What was she doing here? This was the second time I’d caught her in the flat—something strange was going on.
“Is everything okay, Mum?”
“Err—yes. Everything’s fine.”
She didn’t look fine. She looked very nervous.
“I just came round to—err—ask how you felt about Lucy getting married.”
“I’m very pleased for her. Lester is really nice. I’m sure they’ll be very happy together.”
“Good. I just thought I’d check. I’ll get off then, bye.” And with that, she disappeared.
Huh? What was that all about? Why wouldn’t I be okay with Aunt Lucy getting married? It’s not like Lester was some kind of evil demon. My family got crazier every day.
What I really needed was a nice cup of tea and some custard creams. I switched the kettle on, and while it was boiling, I took out the custard cream box.
It was empty!
There had definitely been some in there—I remembered putting them in. This was the second time this had happened recently.
Hold on a minute!
The last time I’d found the custard cream box empty was just after I’d found my mother in the flat. What a coincidence! I was beginning to smell a rat.
“Mum,” I shouted. “Mum!”
She reappeared, looking very sheepish. “You called, Jill?”
“What do you call this?” I said, pointing to the empty box.
“I think it’s called Tupperware, isn’t it?”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know
it.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I hadn’t intended to eat them all. I had one, then two, and then I lost count.”
“Why do you keep raiding my stock of custard creams? Is there a shortage in the ghost world?”
“Alberto’s been on my case. He said I’ve been eating too many, so I promised that I’d cut back. And I have—sort of.”
“So, you’ve cut back on eating your custard creams, but now you’re eating mine instead?”
“When you put it like that—it sounds kind of bad. I’m sorry—I’ll buy you some more.”
“I don’t mind you eating them, but I’d rather you didn’t eat every last one. What would Alberto think if he knew?”
“You’re right. I feel like I’ve been cheating on him.”
“I’m not sure cheating with a custard cream counts.”
“Still, I promise I won’t steal any more. Or if I do, I’ll only take one at a time.”
Chapter 8
When I set off for the office the next morning, I walked straight into Betty. I’d been avoiding her for a while because I thought she’d be grieving over the loss of her one true love, Norman, the mastermind.
“Morning, Jill.” She seemed very bright and breezy. Either she was over Norman, or she’d forgiven him for favouring the bottle top conference over her birthday.
“Morning. You seem very chipper this morning. Are you and Norman back together?”
“Norman? Huh. Don’t mention him to me; stupid man and his bottle tops. I can’t think what I ever saw in him in the first place.”
Me neither. “Well, you certainly seem to be over him.”
“I am. Between you and me, Jill, I have my eye on another man.”
“Really? Already?”
“I can’t say too much at the moment,” she said, in little more than a whisper. “But I think he may be sweet on me too.”
“Really?” Perhaps I should take up collecting sea shells. Apparently, it was a sure fire way to attract men.
“Yes, he’s really hot.”
“Hotter than Norman?”
“Anybody’s hotter than Norman.”
That much was true.
“This guy is a real man, if you know what I mean.” She gave me a knowing wink. Either that, or she had something in her eye.
“That’s great.”
“You know him, actually.”
“I do?”
She looked around to check that the coast was clear. “It’s our new neighbour, Luther Stone. I think he fancies me.”
I was gobsmacked. Luther Stone fancy Betty? How delusional could one person be? What do you mean, I should know? If Luther Stone fancied anyone in this building, it was me—not Betty Longbottom.
“Are you absolutely sure about that?”
“Oh yes. You should see the way he looks at me. It’s like he’s undressing me with those sexy eyes of his.”
I was lost for words. What? It happens occasionally.
This couldn’t be happening. Luther was all mine, and I didn’t intend to share him with Betty Longbottom.
“I really think you should stay away from Luther, Betty.”
“Why?” She looked shocked. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s—err—I’ve heard things about him.”
“What kind of things?”
“Bad things.”
“What do you mean?”
“Err—I shouldn’t really say. I don’t want to repeat gossip.”
“You can’t just leave it at that.”
“I—err—heard that he’s—wanted by the police.”
“Why? What’s he done?”
“Err—money laundering for a major crime syndicate—so I heard. I should stay well clear. There might even be a contract out on him.” I was digging myself into a deeper and deeper hole.
“Morning ladies!” Luther said.
Oh no!
Betty looked at him with new eyes. “Morning,” she said, coldly.
“Morning, Luther,” I said. “Sorry, I’ve got to run. Bye.”
I shot out of the building, jumped in the car and sped off. I prayed that Betty wouldn’t confront Luther about his money laundering operation.
***
Terry Brown was Sir Cuthbert’s chef. I’d arranged to meet him at his home; a two-bedroom semi on the west side of Washbridge.
“Jill?” He greeted me at the door. “Come in. Take a seat.”
It was like walking into an antique shop. All of the furniture, pictures and ornaments looked valuable, and seemed somewhat out of place in such a modest house.
“Are you a collector, Terry?” I said.
“How did you guess?” He grinned. “My parents used to have an antiques shop. I was brought up around antiques, and I guess I acquired a taste for them. It’s not easy, though, on my salary.”
“You seem to be doing okay.”
“Thanks, but this collection has taken me many years to put together.”
“You heard about the vase, I assume?”
“I did. It’s terrible. I’ve always been worried that someone might break in here, and steal my pieces. I have an alarm fitted, but that’s not likely to stop a determined burglar.”
“Do you have insurance?”
“Yes. It costs a small fortune, and what good is it anyway? I’d get a pay-out, but I’d never be able to replace these.” He looked around the room.
I found Terry to be very open. Over tea and cakes, he answered all of my questions without any hesitation. I considered myself a pretty good judge of character, and he struck me as a genuine guy. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder how he’d managed to accumulate such a collection of antiques on what must have been a modest salary.
On my way out, one piece in particular caught my eye. It looked familiar, but I couldn’t think why. It was a gold plate on which was engraved the head of a serpent. Where had I seen it before?
***
I was doing a shift behind the counter at Cuppy C, and beginning to think that I’d got the hang of this tea room lark.
“Hey, Amber,” I said. “Don’t you think I’m getting better at this?”
She gave me a look, then turned to Pearl, and they both giggled.
“Seriously though? I’m doing okay, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, you’re doing really—” Pearl hesitated. “Okay.”
“Yeah, extremely—err—average,” Amber said.
“Exceptionally average.” Pearl nodded.
“You two are horrible.”
“We’re only kidding. You’re definitely improving, but to be honest you make a much better witch than you do a tea room assistant. We still love you though!”
“Yeah, just don’t give up your day job.”
Obviously, I wasn’t doing as well as I’d thought. “I haven’t seen Aunt Lucy for a while. Is she still full of the we—” I caught myself.
The twins gave me a puzzled look. “What did you just say, Jill?”
“Nothing. I—err—said I haven’t seen Aunt Lucy for a while.”
“No, after that. You said ‘is she still full of the we’—?”
“Full of the we—err—werewolf news.”
“Werewolf news?” Pearl looked even more confused.
“Yes. Aunt Lucy and I often discuss werewolves—and the news appertaining to them.”
“Jill? What were you really going to say?”
“Okay, okay. I wondered if she was still full of the wedding.”
“Who’s getting married?” the twins said, in unison.
“Aunt Lucy and Lester. I thought she might have told you. But, I’m guessing, she hasn’t?”
“No, she most definitely has not!” Amber said.
“How come you know and we don’t?” Pearl said, the outrage showing on her face.
“Probably because I’m talking to her. If you remember, you two stopped talking to her because of the Miles Best cakes situation.”
“Entirely justified,” Amber said. “So, when i
s this wedding?”
“Some time next year.”
“Naturally, we’ll be her bridesmaids,” Pearl said.
I shrugged. “Maybe, she’ll ask someone else seeing as you two aren’t talking to her.”
“We are talking to her. It was only a temporary measure,” Pearl said. “It’s all forgotten now.”
“So you’ve actually spoken to her recently, have you?”
“We’ve been thinking about doing, haven’t we, Amber?”
“Yes. In fact, now you mention it, I think we’ll go over there later today.”
“And this change of heart has nothing to do with you two wanting to be bridesmaids then?”
“Of course not. Nothing at all. We’d planned to do it anyway, hadn’t we, Pearl?”
“Yes, definitely.”
A likely story.
While we were on a break, Amber mentioned that she hadn’t seen Grandma for a while.
“Not that I’m complaining.” She laughed.
“I have a horrible feeling I’m going to be seeing an awful lot of her. Did you know she’s running for election to Candlefield Town Council?”
“Grandma as a local councillor? Who’d vote for her?” Pearl looked nervously around, just in case Grandma was within earshot.
“Hopefully a lot of people because I’m her campaign manager.”
“Why did you volunteer to do that?” Amber looked genuinely shocked. “Are you insane?”
“Who said I volunteered? Grandma ‘volunteered’ me. She informed me that I was doing it, and that was that.”
“Do you have any experience of that sort of thing?” Pearl said.
“None at all.”
“Oh dear.” They giggled. “You really are in trouble. If Grandma doesn’t win, guess who’ll get the blame?”
“Thanks, that makes me feel much better.”
***
I was driving through Washbridge when I noticed a huge poster. It was promoting the movie which Mr Ivers had mentioned: ‘Full Force’.
What the—?
I hadn’t realised that Rick Ryland was in it! He’d been my favourite movie star for as long as I could remember. He was hot with a capital ‘H’. At the bottom of the poster, it said that he, along with some of the other members of the cast, would be appearing at the premiere in London. The same premiere that Mr Ivers had invited me to! The premiere that I’d said I didn’t want to go to! Oh no! I couldn’t let this golden opportunity pass me by.
