by Adele Abbott
“The man looked a bit of a scoundrel to me,” Sir Monty chimed in. “Never trust a man who drives a Porsche—that’s what I always say.”
“A Porsche? What colour was it?”
“A horrible shade of green.”
***
I’d arranged to meet Lance Boyle’s campaign manager at Cuppy C. His name was Dexter Long, and he said I’d recognise him because he’d be wearing a blue and white rosette. He’d presumably mentioned the colour just in case I got him mixed up with the many other rosette-wearing customers.
I spotted him at the corner table.
“Hi, Jill,” Amber said. “Drink?”
“I’ve actually got a meeting with that guy over there. Would you bring a latte and a blueberry muffin over to me?”
“Did you ought to be eating blueberry muffins?”
“I’ll just have a small one.”
“We only have the one size—I wouldn’t call it small.”
“I would. Thanks.”
The man with the rosette stood up as I approached.
“Dexter Long?”
“Please call me Dexy. Everyone does.”
“Right, Dexy it is then.”
“Have a seat, Jill. I understand you’re the campaign manager for Mirabel Millbright?”
“That’s right. She’s my grandmother. I was ‘volunteered’ into the job.”
“Oh dear! It’s a cut and thrust business, you know. I hope you’re prepared for it. I’m run off my feet, and I’m up until gone midnight most days, working on the campaign.”
“There you go, Jill,” Amber said, placing the coffee and muffin in front of me.
“Thanks, Amber.”
“That looks delicious.” Dexter was practically salivating at the sight of my muffin.
“Would you like one?”
“No thanks, I’m watching my waistline. I generally stick to plain biscuits.”
“Me too.”
“The reason I asked you to meet me, Dexter—err—Dexy—is because I want to ensure that the election is a clean one. I don’t want to get involved with dirty tricks or smear campaigns.”
“I’m so very pleased to hear you say that, Jill. It makes a refreshing change. I’ve been involved with many a campaign, and I have to tell you that the lengths some people will go to in order to win, is quite unbelievable, and totally unacceptable. My candidate, Lance Boyle, is an upstanding citizen, and he is only interested in fighting this campaign on the issues and his policies. He doesn’t want it to become personal, and neither do I. I wouldn’t want to represent anyone who would get involved with underhand tactics.”
“Really?” I breathed a sigh of relief. “I was a little worried that you would laugh at me for suggesting we try and run a clean campaign.”
“Not at all. I’m pleased you contacted me. You can rest assured that there will be no dirty tricks from our side.”
“That’s great.”
After a few minutes, Dexy had to rush off, so Amber and Pearl came over to join me.
“Were you on a date, Jill?” Pearl said.
“No, I’m not dating anyone at the moment.”
“Hmm,” said Amber. “For someone who’s not dating anyone, you seem to have a lot of names in your little black book.”
“I don’t have a little black book either. If you must know, that was Dexter ‘Dexy’ Long. He’s the campaign manager for Lance Boyle, who is Grandma’s opponent in the local election. I’ve reached an agreement with him that there will be no dirty tricks.”
Amber laughed. “You are kidding, aren’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Grandma, not employ dirty tricks? That’ll be a first.”
“It doesn’t matter what Grandma wants to do. I’m the campaign manager, and I won’t countenance any dirty tricks.”
“Good luck with that,” Pearl said.
“You’ll see. I’m going to run a clean campaign, and we’ll still win.”
The girls looked unconvinced, but I’d show them.
***
“You’re wonderfully naïve,” Grandma said when I caught up with her in the back office at ‘Ever’.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you actually believe that the other candidate isn’t going to resort to dirty tricks?”
“I’ve spoken to his campaign manager. He seems like a decent chap.”
She laughed.
“Look, I’m a pretty good judge of character, and I trust him.”
Grandma was shaking her head, but I ignored her.
“Wouldn’t you rather be elected after running a clean campaign, than have to resort to dirty tricks and smear tactics?”
Grandma shrugged. “I don’t care either way, as long as I win.”
“Well I do. My reputation is on the line here.”
“Look, young lady, you’d better know what you’re doing. If this campaign fails to get me elected, it will be your fault.”
“I’m confident that we’ll win,” I said, feeling anything but.
“You’d better be right.” She gave me a look that chilled me to the bones. “Anyway, I’ve been thinking. Seeing as you’re going to be heavily involved with my election campaign, I don’t want you to have any other distractions, so I’ve decided there won’t be any magic lessons for a while.”
Hurrah! “Oh dear, that’s disappointing.”
“You look really disappointed. And there’s something else.” She hesitated. “I’ve decided to move you up to level three.”
“What?” I gasped. “Already?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Do you think I’m ready?”
“We can pretend you are. You’ll just have to fake it ‘til you make it.”
“Thanks. I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s no time for all that. You should be out campaigning and stuff. Why are you sitting here talking to me?”
“Right, okay. Thanks, Grandma. Bye.”
***
I was really excited about being made a level three witch. I wanted to tell someone, but I could hardly share my news with Kathy or Mrs V, so I magicked myself back to Candlefield to see the twins at Cuppy C. But then, just as I was about to walk into the tea room, I had a moment’s self-doubt. How would they take it? They were still on level two. How would they feel when I told them that I had now moved ahead of them? Would they resent me? I’d soon find out.
Cuppy C, was deserted, and it wasn’t difficult to see why.
“Girls?” I shouted to the twins, who were busy doing something behind the counter.
“Sorry, Jill. Can’t talk—we’ve got a chocolate fountain emergency,” Pearl shouted, without looking up.
“So I see.” The floor was covered in chocolate, and there were footprints where people had paddled through it.
“What happened?”
“It’s this stupid chocolate fountain,” Amber said. “It suddenly went crazy and started producing ten times more chocolate than it should. It’s gone everywhere: onto the counter, onto the floor—everywhere. We’re flooded in chocolate!”
“Can’t you just switch it off?”
“Gee thanks, Jill. We would never have thought of that,” Pearl said, and turned to her sister. “Duh! Amber, we should just switch it off.”
“Thanks, Jill,” Amber said. “That’s genius!”
“Sorry, I just thought—”
“We’ve tried everything. We’ve even turned the power off. But the chocolate just keeps pouring out. We can’t stop it.”
“Can I try?”
“What can you do?”
“I don’t know, but maybe I’ll be able to think of something.”
“Knock yourself out,” Amber said.
I took off my shoes, and paddled through the chocolate to the counter.
“Do you have the instruction manual?”
“What instruction manual?” Pearl said.
“It must have come with one, surely?”
“I think I put it in the drawer,” Amber said.
“Now might be a good time to get it out.”
She made her way over to the cupboard at the far side of the counter, and returned holding a small booklet. “There you go.”
I flicked through all the usual set up instructions, and the ‘how to get started’ section. Then I came to a section headed ‘What to do if your chocolate fountain floods your premises’.
“I think I might have found the relevant section,” I said, but the girls were too busy pressing buttons, and pulling levers to take any notice.
I read it through again just to be sure.
“Stand back, girls. I've got this.”
They looked at me sceptically, but did as I said. I cast the relevant spell, and instantly, the chocolate stopped flowing.
“Wow, Jill! How did you do that?” Amber looked gobsmacked.
“R T B M!”
“What?”
“Read The Blooming Manual!”
I thought it was R T—”
“Never mind that. It’s fixed—that’s all that matters.”
“What was the problem?”
“You had a chocolate goblin in there.”
“A what?”
“Look, here.” I pointed to the manual. “It says: ‘If the fountain starts to produce too much chocolate, and it is impossible to stop it, this is an indication that a chocolate goblin has taken possession of your machine. You have to use an ‘anti-goblin’ spell which gets rid of the goblin, and restores the fountain to proper working order.’ If you’d read the manual, you would have known that. Duh!”
“Thanks, Jill,” Amber said. “You’re a life saver.”
“Yeah, but look at the state of this place.” Pearl pointed to the floor. “I think we should get rid of this stupid machine.”
“Me too. I never did like it anyway,” Amber agreed.
“I’ll give you a hand cleaning up.” I took off my jacket, and hung it on the back of a chair.
“Thanks, Jill. By the way, did you come over for any particular reason?”
“I did, actually. There’s something I have to tell the two of you, and I hope you aren’t going to be too mad at me.”
“After you just saved us from being drowned in chocolate? I don’t think so.”
“Grandma just made me a level three witch.”
The two girls stared, wide-eyed, and I was unsure how they’d taken it.
“That’s fantastic!” Amber was all smiles.
“Yeah, absolutely brilliant!” Pearl nodded.
“Yes, you deserve it, Jill, for getting rid of the goblin,” Amber said.
“So you don’t mind?”
“Of course we don’t mind!” Pearl said. “We’re not bothered about moving up the levels. You know that. But you can go all the way. We’re really thrilled for you.”
“I just hope I can cope.”
“You’ll be fine.”
“Come on then. Let’s get this chocolate cleaned up.”
Chapter 14
“Mum! Are you there, Mum?” I still felt a little self-conscious whenever I called my mother, even though I was alone in the flat, and no one could see me.
“Jill? Is everything okay?” She looked concerned.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“You had me worried.”
“You don’t have to worry every time I call you.”
“I know, but I’m your mother. That’s my job. I still feel guilty about taking your custard creams by the way.”
“Don’t worry about that. Look, I called you because Grandma has moved me up to level three.”
“She has?”
“Didn’t you know?”
“No. When did this happen?”
“Earlier today, and I’m not sure if I’m ready.”
There was a long silence. My mother looked deep in thought.
“This is the point where you say ‘of course you’re ready’.”
“Sorry. I’m sure you are.”
“You’re not doing a great job of convincing me, here. Do you think it’s too early?”
“Grandma knows what she’s doing, but—” She hesitated, and then forced a smile. “Never mind.”
“Never mind ‘never mind’. What were you going to say?”
“Just that I’ve never heard of any witch moving up to level three so quickly—ever.”
“Maybe I should tell her to move me back down?”
“She won’t do that. For all of her faults, Grandma does know what she’s doing. If she thinks you’re ready, then you are.”
“But I make such stupid mistakes.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, look at the time I was levitating over a wall, and I used the wrong option to descend. I dropped to the ground like a brick.”
That brought a smile to my mother’s face for some reason.
“Everyone makes mistakes when they’re learning. That’s nothing.”
“It didn’t feel like nothing at the time. It really hurt. And, that’s not the only time I’ve messed up. Look what happened at your wedding.”
“I didn’t realise anything had.”
“I haven’t told anyone—it’s kind of embarrassing.”
“You have to tell me now that you’ve started.”
“I didn’t say anything at the time, but your wedding fell on the same day as Kathy’s birthday. When you told me the date, I’d already arranged to spend the day with her.”
“You ought to have said something.”
“It shouldn’t have mattered. If I’d had my brain in gear, I would have realised that I could have attended your wedding, and then gone back to Washbridge to spend the day with Kathy because time stands still when I’m in Candlefield.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t do that.”
“I was such an idiot. I spent the whole day, flitting back and forth between the wedding and Kathy’s birthday celebrations. It was a nightmare. By the time I’d done, I was exhausted.”
“Oh, dear.” My mother laughed.
“See what I mean? I’m an idiot!”
“Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh.” It took her a few seconds to compose herself again. “None of that matters. We all make mistakes. It’s not like anyone is watching you. If you hadn’t told me, no one would ever have known.”
“But I feel like there’s thousands of eyes watching everything I do—just waiting for me to make a mistake.”
“Now you’re starting to sound paranoid.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that the move up to the next level came out of the blue. I’m sure I’ll be okay.”
“You definitely will, and I’m sorry I laughed at your wedding mishap.”
“That’s okay. Even I can see the funny side now.”
“You know you can always call me if you have any moments of self-doubt.”
“I know, thanks. Actually, there is a favour I’d like to ask of you.”
“Of course. Anything.”
“This might sound a bit crazy, but—”
What was I doing? Why was I getting my mother involved?
“Jill?”
“Sorry, I’d zoned out. Do you remember Jack Maxwell?”
“The policeman? Are you and he an item?”
“No, I don’t think so—maybe—I don’t know. I have no idea what our relationship is. Or even if we have one.”
“So how can I help?”
“I know it shouldn’t bother me—”
“I feel a ‘but’ coming on.”
“But, recently he’s been working with a ‘paranormal consultant’.”
“A what?”
“Yeah, I know; that’s what I thought. Apparently she can see ghosts. Or, at least, that’s what she claims on her résumé. It’s obviously nonsense, but she seems to have everyone fooled—including Jack.”
“And would this paranormal consultant be attractive?”
“I hadn’t really noticed. I suppose so. Possibly. I just though
t that if she happened to see a real ghost, then just maybe—”
“It would scare her off?”
“Yeah. Something like that. Do you think I’m being horrible?”
“Yes.”
“Will you do it anyway?”
“Of course. Anything for my darling daughter.”
“That’s great, Mum. Thanks.”
***
I’d decided to take Barry for a walk, but when I checked upstairs at Cuppy C he wasn’t there. There was a note from the twins saying they’d taken him to the park. I was about to make my way over to Aunt Lucy’s when a little voice shouted.
“Excuse me.”
I turned around, confused for a moment.
“Over here.” It was the hamster calling to me.
“Oh, hello there.”
“It’s Jill, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“Jill, I wondered if I could ask you a favour?”
“Sure, Hammy. What can I do for you?”
“Well, first of all, could I ask that you call me ‘Hamlet’, please?”
“I’m sorry. I thought you were okay with ‘Hammy’.”
“No, not really. That’s what Barry insists on calling me. I have asked him to call me Hamlet, but it doesn’t seem to register.”
“Hamlet is an unusual name for a hamster.”
“I chose it myself.”
“Oh? Okay. So what is it I can do for you, Hammy—sorry—Hamlet?”
“It’s rather delicate, and I’m not really sure how to put this, but well—err—Barry’s a perfectly nice dog—but he’s not exactly the full shilling, is he?”
“He is a bit—”
“Simple?”
“I was going to say ‘naïve’.”
“Our conversations aren’t exactly what you’d call stimulating. They basically revolve around his love of going to the park and eating, which between you and me, are not the most interesting of topics. What I really need is something a little more intellectually challenging. So, I thought maybe a few good books?”
“You can read?”
“Of course I can.”
“Right. Well, my sister has two young kids. Maybe I could see if they have anything suitable?”
“No, no. Not children’s books. I was thinking more along the lines of Tolstoy, or maybe Dickens, or some Shakespeare—”
“You read that kind of book?”
