by Adele Abbott
“Sorry, love. I must have nodded off.”
“There doesn’t appear to be many people here tonight?”
“This is one of the best turnouts we’ve had so far this season.”
That was a depressing thought because there couldn’t have been more than forty people in the stadium.
“Hi!” A woman seated two rows in front of us gave us a wave.
“Hello.”
“I’m Trish. This is my husband, Jacob. Our Wesley is the goalkeeper for the Penguins.”
“Do you come to many matches?”
“We never miss one, do we, Jacob?”
“No, we’re always here—same seats every match. We’re season ticket holders. What about you two? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. Is your boy in the team?”
“No, we—err—just fancied a night out.”
“I hope they do better than their last home match,” Trish said. “We lost twelve-one. Wesley was really upset afterwards.”
“Poor little mite,” I said. “This stadium is incredible. I believe it was financed by Frank—err—”
“Royston,” Jacob said. “That’s right. It must have cost him a small fortune.”
“Does his son play for the team?”
“Not as far as I know.”
“Is Royston here today?”
“I doubt it,” Trish said. “I don’t think he ever comes to the matches.”
“Here they come now!” Jacob got to his feet to greet the teams. “Go Wesley!”
The diminutive goalkeeper gave his parents a wave, and then the teams lined up. Tonight’s opponents were The Chippers from West Chipping.
When the final whistle blew, we said our goodbyes to our new friends.
“I hope Wesley is okay,” Jack said. “At least he let in one goal less than he did in the last match.”
“We’d better go and try to cheer him up. I hope we see you two here again.”
Once we were out of the stadium, I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness that’s over. Was it just me or were the Penguins awful?”
“They really were. I felt sorry for little Wesley. Letting in twenty-three goals in two matches can’t have been fun. If we have a little boy, we mustn’t let him play in goal.”
“What about if we have a little girl?”
“She’ll want to do ballet or netball, won’t she?”
“I can’t believe you just said that. Why shouldn’t she play football?”
“Err, no reason. I just meant—”
“Girls can play football every bit as well as boys. In fact, it’s hard to imagine how they could be any worse than the Washbridge Penguins.”
Chapter 11
Jack had got up early so he could nip to the corner shop before he headed out for work. So keen was he to claim his steak and kidney pies. I’d warned him that the cards would be void because we’d scratched out all the windows, but he was adamant that we should still be entitled to a prize.
He was to be disappointed.
“They’re all out of pies.” He came back, still clutching the ‘winning’ scratch cards.
“Quelle surprise. I wonder why that could be.”
“There are dozens of people down there, all trying to claim their free steak and kidney pies.”
“Who could have seen that coming?”
“It’s that young woman I feel sorry for.”
“Lucy?”
“Yeah, she’s having to explain to everyone why they can’t have a pie. Little Jack is in Bognor Regis, apparently.”
“At the National Corner Shop Symposium, no doubt.”
“How do you know that?”
“I like to keep abreast of all things retail.”
“Lucy said we should hold onto our tickets until Little Jack gets back.”
“She’s not still selling them, is she?”
“No, she had the good sense to stop. It’s all very disappointing because I was really looking forward to a steak and kidney pie for dinner.”
“Them’s the breaks, buddy.”
“So it seems. Oh yes, I almost forgot, I bumped into Britt and Kit on my way back.”
“I bet they were doing something obscenely sporting, weren’t they? Had they just run a marathon before breakfast?”
“Actually, they were telling me about the Washbridge Battle of the Bands.”
Oh bum! “I really ought to be going to work.”
“Before you do, is there something you’d like to tell me, Jill?”
“Err—no—I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure? Something about a solo performance?”
“Oh that.” I forced a laugh. “I’d totally forgotten about that little thing.”
“I bet you had. Kit really fancies our chances in the competition, particularly—and these were his very words—particularly as we have such a strong solo performer in Jill.”
“It’s not my fault. It’s not like I volunteered. It was presented to me as mission accomplished.”
“You can’t go on stage in a competition and use magic.”
“What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t pull out now. The Liveleys are relying on me to do it.”
“I guess that leaves you with only one option, doesn’t it?”
“What’s that?”
“You’ll have to get in some practice on the penny whistle.”
“You’re surely not proposing that I go on stage and play it without the help of magic?”
“That’s precisely what I’m proposing.”
Oh bum and double bum!
Later, as we were both leaving for work, I remembered the photo I’d taken the previous day.
“Hey, Jack, would you like to see something really cute?” I took out my phone.
“I’m already looking at something really cute.”
That husband of mine could be a charmer when he tried.
“Just look at that cake. Isn’t it something?”
“Are those doves on there?”
“No, they’re pigeons. I told you about Harold and Ida who live on my window ledge, didn’t I?”
“Probably. It’s hard to keep track of all the crazy stuff you come out with.”
“It’s Ida’s birthday today, and Harold gave me the birthday cake for safekeeping.”
“That’s so sweet. Is it made out of some kind of special pigeon food?”
“That’s what I thought, but apparently, it’s just a regular cake.”
“Nice.”
“I don’t remember you buying me a cake for my birthday.”
“I couldn’t find one big enough to hold all the candles.”
“Cheek.”
***
As I walked up the stairs to my office, I realised something was different, but it took me a few moments to work out what it was. Then it clicked: there was no sound of typewriter keys being thumped.
“Mrs V? How come you’re back on the computer?”
“It was a silly idea to try and use the typewriter. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’d convinced myself that the good old days were better, but that simply isn’t true. Carbon paper? Correction fluid? There’s nothing fun about all that. And those keys were ruining my nails.”
“What have you done with the typewriter?” I glanced around the outer office, but there was no sign of it.
“I couldn’t bear to look at it for another minute. I took it through to your office, so I wouldn’t have to see it. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, that’s okay.”
“I’ve put it out of sight, in the bottom drawer of your desk.”
“Okay, I’ll just—hold on, did you just say bottom drawer?” I dashed through to my office, and over to my desk. There were drawers on either side of it, so there was a fifty-fifty chance the cake would be okay. Surely, if she’d opened the drawer with the cake box in it, she would have spotted it, wouldn’t she?
Oh no!
I lifted the typewriter out of the drawer and put it onto my
desk.
“Is everything okay, Jill?” Mrs V had followed me into my office.
“Err, yeah. Everything’s great.”
“Are you sure? You’re looking very pale.”
“I’m fine. How long ago did you put this in here?”
“Last night before I left the office. Why?”
“No reason.” That blew any chance I might have had of using the ‘take it back’ spell.
Once she’d left the room, I took the squashed cake box out of the drawer. Maybe it was only the box that was damaged? Who was I trying to kid? It was practically flat.
“Oh dear.” Winky jumped onto the desk. “Whatever has happened here?”
“There’s been a slight accident.”
“Slight?” He laughed. “That’s like saying that cutting your throat is just a small nick.”
“What shall I do?”
“Change your name and leave the country?”
“You aren’t helping.”
“Didn’t you take a photo of it?”
“Yes! Yes, I did. You’re a genius, Winky!”
“I’ve been telling you that for years.”
“All I have to do now is find someone who can make me an identical cake. That shouldn’t be that difficult.”
Famous last words.
My first thought had been to contact Aunt Lucy, but she and Lester had gone out for the day. That was okay because there were any number of cake shops in Washbridge. One of them was bound to be able to help.
Two hours later, my feet were aching, after trudging from one shop to another. No one could make the cake. At least, not within the required timescale. There was now only one shop left for me to check. I’d deliberately put this one at the bottom of the list because they were clearly the most expensive option. They did, however, offer a super-fast express service. But at a price.
“Hello, madam, how can I help you?” The woman behind the counter was wearing a blue and white striped apron with the words ‘Cake Pronto’ on the front.
“Hi. Exactly how quick is your express service?”
“What kind of cake is it you’re after? Fruit or sponge?”
“Err, what’s the most common for birthdays?”
“Fruit usually.”
“Okay, that’s what I’ll have then.”
“That’s going to take four hours.”
“Can’t you do it any quicker than that?”
“Not if you want it to be edible.”
“Okay, that should work, but I’ll need you to start straight away.”
“Of course.”
“I want it to look like this.” I showed her the photo.
“Are those doves?”
“No, they’re pigeons.”
“You want a cake with pigeons on it?”
“Yes, can you do it?”
“Of course.”
“Great! I’ll come and pick it up in four hours.” I started for the door.
“Madam, there’s just the question of payment.”
“Don’t I pay on collection?”
“I’m afraid not. What would happen if you didn’t come back? I don’t think we’d be able to find anyone else who would want to buy a pigeon cake.”
“Fine. How much will it be?”
“One hundred pounds.”
“A hundred?”
“It is our express service.”
“Okay, okay.” I handed her my credit card. “Just make sure it’s ready on time.”
By the time I got back to the office, I was shattered.
“Are you okay, Jill?” Mrs V said. “I was worried when you dashed out like that.”
“I’m fine. Could you make me a coffee, please?”
“Of course. I’ll bring it straight through.”
When I walked through to my office, I was horrified to find Winky seated on the windowsill, talking to Harold. If he’d grassed me up, I’d kill him.
“Hi, Jill.” Harold gave me a little wave. That was reassuring. If he’d known what had happened to the cake, he wouldn’t have done that.
“Morning, Harold.”
“Winky tells me you’ve been taking good care of Ida’s cake.”
“Of course.”
“There really was no need for you to stand guard over it all last night.”
“I—err—” I glanced at Winky who was grinning from ear to ear. “I was happy to do it. I didn’t want anything to happen to it.”
“Like what?” Winky said.
I was going to kill that cat. “Err, like anything. You can never be too careful.”
“That’s true.” Winky nodded. “If you hadn’t kept watch, who knows what might have happened? Someone might have opened the drawer and dropped something heavy on top of it. Like a type—”
“So, Harold,” I cut across Winky. “When will you need the cake?”
“Not until late this afternoon. I’ve organised a small surprise party for Ida. Is it okay if I come and collect it then?”
“Absolutely. That would be perfect.”
“Okay, I’d better be making tracks. I still have a few things to arrange for the party. I’ll catch you later, Jill.”
“Later, yeah.” I waited until he was out of earshot, and then turned my glare on Winky. “What were you playing at?”
“Relax. I was only messing with you. Did you get a replacement cake sorted?”
“Yes, but it’s cost me an arm and a leg.”
“What price friendship?”
***
It was time to pay a visit to the Cliffs Caravan Park near Filey. Driving there and back was out of the question because I needed to be back in time to collect the replacement birthday cake.
As its name suggested, the park was indeed situated close to the cliffs. Some of the caravans were precariously close to the edge in my view. It certainly wasn’t the kind of place to take a late night, drunken stroll.
I’d telephoned the park owner, a Mr Norman Chase, but he’d been none too keen to speak to me, and even less enthusiastic about the suggestion that I might pay him a visit. Not one to be put off easily, I figured that if I turned up on his doorstep, he’d have no choice but to engage with me.
“You?” He stepped out of the huge static caravan, which appeared to serve as both his office and home. “I told you on the phone that I had nothing to say to you.”
“Really? That wasn’t the impression I got. I thought you seemed keen to tell me your side of the story. Were you aware of any issues regarding the Bells during their stay?”
“No, I’ve already told the police that nothing out of the ordinary happened. And, anyway, as I understand it, their car was found at their house, so whatever happened to them, clearly happened there. It has nothing to do with this park or with me. Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”
“What about the other couple, Mr Chase?”
“What other couple?”
“The couple who died on this park about a year ago.”
“That was a tragic accident. They were walking along the cliff path and got too close to the edge.”
“Still, the bad publicity can’t have been good for business?”
“Their deaths had nothing to do with the park, any more than the Bells’ disappearance does.”
A red-haired woman appeared in the doorway behind him. “What’s going on, Norman?”
“Nothing, Mary. This young lady was just leaving, weren’t you?”
I ignored him. “Mrs Chase? I was asking your husband about the Bells. Did you notice anything unusual during their stay?”
Before she had the chance to respond, Norman Chase had bundled her back inside. “I’ve told you—we have nothing more to say.” And with that, he slammed the door in my face.
His defensive reaction didn’t strike me as that of a man with nothing on his conscience. I hadn’t really learned anything of interest. Maybe I’d have more joy when I spoke to the two couples, mentioned in the police files, who’d been staying on the park at the same
time as the Bells.
***
What with the missing Bells and missing penguins, I’d not been able to give much thought to the dandelion fairies. But I’d made a promise to help them, so instead of magicking myself straight back to the office, I stopped off in Washbridge Park.
Several sections of the huge grassed areas were covered in dandelions, many of which had turned to seed. Unusually, and just as Dandy had said, the seeds didn’t seem to be dispersing in the wind. That was very weird, particularly because there was quite a stiff breeze that day. Even when I walked through the hordes of flowers, catching them with my feet, none of the seeds became detached. I’d never seen anything quite like it.
I needed to get a closer look at the flowers, so I went behind one of the larger trees in the park, made sure no one could see me, and then cast the ‘shrink’ spell. The dandelions now towered above me like giant trees. I was still trying to get my bearings when I heard the sound of footsteps—lots of them—headed in my direction. Moments later, a crowd of creatures came running towards me. They were a strange looking bunch, with long legs, small bodies, and even smaller heads. They all had freckles and white curly hair.
I braced myself for a confrontation, but when they were only a few feet from me, they stopped dead in their tracks. The creature who had led the charge stepped forward, bowed, and said, “We are the Tye.”
Before I could respond, I heard more footsteps heading in my direction. Yet another crowd of creatures appeared, and they were every bit as strange as the earlier arrivals. These had small legs, a slightly larger body, and large heads. These weird little guys all had dimples and green hair.
They too came to a halt just a few feet from where I was standing. The creature at the head of this particular group stepped forward and said, “We are the Nees.”
Chapter 12
“Let me make sure that I have this right.” I turned to the creature who had spoken first. “Your people are called the Tye?”
“That’s correct.”
And then to the second creature, I said, “And you’re the Nees?”
“We are.”
“So, together, I guess that makes you the Tye-Nees?” I laughed. “Quite apt really.”
