by Adele Abbott
***
The competition was being held at Candlefield Community Centre, and on the walk over there, Barry didn’t pause for breath even once. Although it was nice to see him so excited, I was finding it difficult to muster the same level of enthusiasm. To make matters worse, I’d just had a horrible thought. How many pets would be taking part in this contest, and how long would it go on for?
“Barry,” I interrupted whatever he was chattering about. “Do you know how many other competitors there’ll be today?”
“Don’t know.”
“Is it just dogs and cats or will there be other pets taking part?”
“Don’t know.”
If you don’t ask, you don’t find out.
I was shocked to see the size of the queue outside the centre. It would have taken us forever to get inside, so I approached one of the wizards on door duty.
“Excuse me. This is my dog, Barry.”
“I’m Barry,” he confirmed.
“Hello, boy.” The wizard gave him a stroke. “Aren’t you handsome?”
“I was just wondering if there was a separate entrance for the competitors?”
“There is. It’s around the back.”
“Fantastic.”
“But it’s strictly for the competitors only. Not their entourage.”
“I’m not his entourage. He’s my dog.”
“Sorry, missus. I can take Barry around the back if you like, but you’ll have to join the end of the queue.”
“Great.” I handed him the lead, and watched Barry skip away.
“Was that your dog?” A female vampire asked when I joined the queue.
“Yes, that’s Barry.”
“What does he do?”
“Err—he dances.”
“So does my Suzi. What kind of dancing?”
“Disco.”
“Suzi is into break-dancing.”
“What breed of dog is Suzi?”
“She isn’t a dog. She’s a chinchilla.”
“Right? I thought the competition was just for dogs and cats.”
“No, it’s open to pets of all kinds.”
“Have you been to one of these competitions before?”
“Oh yes, Suzi takes part in all of them. She won fifth place last year.”
“Congratulations. Are there usually many competitors? I’m just trying to get a feel for how long this is likely to last.”
“Lots. Last year it didn’t finish until almost eleven.”
“That’s four hours.”
“I know, and I loved every minute of it.”
I was pretty sure I wouldn’t enjoy every minute. Or any of them for that matter.
When I eventually made it inside, I discovered all the seats were already taken. It was standing room only at the back. This was going from bad to I-seriously-want-to-cry.
When Suzi’s enthusiastic owner had said that all kinds of animals took part in the competition, she hadn’t been exaggerating. I was all for giving everyone a chance, but I drew the line at the unicycling stick insect. Yes, I do realise that such a feat isn’t to be scoffed at, but seriously, who wants to watch that rubbish?
Answer: apparently everyone in the community centre except for me because when the unicyclist took his bow, it practically brought the house down.
There were other ‘highlights’ too: Who could forget Bubbles, the mathematical genius who was a—wait for it—goldfish. He was called Bubbles because he answered the problems put to him by blowing bubbles. Yes, it was just as bad as it sounds.
To be fair, Suzi the chinchilla certainly had the moves. If you happen to like break-dancing, that is. She too left the stage to a standing ovation.
When the MC announced that the next act would be juggling cats, I was expecting to see a troupe of felines throwing and catching miscellaneous stuff. Turned out I was wrong because onto the stage walked a giant of a werewolf wearing a scarlet cloak.
Colour me confused.
I clearly wasn’t the only one who didn’t understand what was going on because several people in the audience were mumbling under their breath. But then, everything became clear. Sort of.
The man opened his cloak, took out four cats from the deep pockets inside, and began to juggle them. At first, I was horrified, but it soon became clear that the cats were enjoying themselves. Rather than passively flying through the air, they were actually performing somersaults. Weird? Definitely. But no one could deny it was impressive. When he’d finished, most of the audience applauded loudly, but a few people complained that he shouldn’t have been allowed to participate because they felt the talent on display was his and not the cats’.
Me? I didn’t give a flying fig. I just wanted this torture over and done with.
I’d been standing there for almost two hours. I had a headache, my feet were aching, and I would have killed for a drink. There was a refreshment counter, but by the time I’d fought my way through the crowd, they’d sold out of everything.
At long last, it was Barry’s turn to take to the stage, and despite my fatigue, I loved every second of his act. I’d struggled to appreciate Barry’s paintings, but this was different. Rhymes’ tuition had clearly paid dividends because Barry gave a performance that even the great Travolta would have approved of.
“Brilliant!” I shouted, as he took his bow.
I wasn’t the only one who’d been impressed because the audience rose as one, to give him a standing ovation.
On the way home, Barry insisted on carrying the trophy in his mouth, even though it meant we could only walk at a snail’s pace because he had to stop every time he wanted to speak.
“You should have won first prize,” I said. “You deserved it.”
“I’m happy with second.” He clearly was. His tail had never stopped wagging since the winners had been announced.
“I don’t know what they were thinking, giving that stupid goldfish the first prize.”
“I thought Bubbles deserved it.” Barry put the trophy down again. “Those sums were really hard. I couldn’t do any of them.”
“That’s very generous of you, Barry.”
“Are you proud of me, Jill?”
“Are you kidding? Of course I am. Incredibly proud.”
When we got back to Aunt Lucy’s, she and Lester were on the sofa enjoying a movie, a box of chocolates, and a bottle of wine.
“Hey, Barry.” She stood up. “Is that a trophy I see?”
“I came second.”
“Second to a mathematician goldfish,” I said.
“Well done, boy.” She gave him a hug. “We’ll put this on display here unless you’d rather keep it in your room.”
“I’d like you to keep it in the lounge, please. More people will see it there.” He yawned. “Is it okay if I go to bed? I’m really tired.”
“Of course. Off you go, and well done again.”
“Did you enjoy it, Jill?” Aunt Lucy asked, after Barry had left the room.
“I enjoyed the five minutes that Barry was on stage. The rest of it? Not so much.”
“Would you like a glass of wine and some chocolates?”
“No, thanks. I’m going to head home.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, and I’m very pleased to see you’ve made such a remarkable recovery from your cold.”
***
I’d just magicked myself back to Washbridge when I got a call from Mad.
“Jill, I just wanted to let you know that stage one of the plan is complete.”
“Fantastic. When will you need me again?”
“I’ve set up the meeting with Dayton, at Spooky TV, tomorrow at two.”
“Did you have any problems?”
“Not really. I persuaded one of the two Georges that it was in their interest to make the call. Dayton wasn’t very happy, but she’s agreed to come over.”
“I’ll get there for about one-thirty.”
“Okay. I’ll get everything set up in the morning. Oh, and by
the way, I also managed to persuade the two Georges that they should hand over what’s left of the money they made. I’m going to give it to the ghosts who have been forced to take part in the movies.”
“I bet the Georges were thrilled about having to give back the money.”
“Far from it, but they weren’t really in a position to refuse.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Back at the house, Jack was in the lounge, staring out of the front window.
“What’s so interesting out there?” I went and stood behind him.
“Those road works across the road. Didn’t you see them when you came in?”
“Yeah. What about them?”
“They appeared this morning, but I haven’t actually seen anyone working there as yet.”
“You say that like it’s unusual. I’m convinced they sometimes do this just for a laugh. It’ll probably be like that for a week before anyone actually starts work. What are they supposed to be doing, anyway?”
“I’ve no idea.” He stepped back from the window. “I thought I’d order in pizza.”
“Because you’re too lazy to make dinner?”
“It’s actually your turn.”
“Is it? In that case, pizza sounds like a great idea.”
Thirty minutes later, we were back in the lounge, eating pizza.
“You should have taken a video of it,” Jack said in between bites.
“Of Barry’s dance routine? Yeah, I should have, but it never occurred to me.”
“I didn’t mean of Barry. I meant of the goldfish and the stick insect. That would have been really cool.”
“I worry about you sometimes. Anyway, enough about that menagerie. You’ll never guess what happened to me at work today.”
“I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Where you’re concerned, it could literally be anything.”
“I was offered the chance to star in a reality TV show.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. I bumped into Betty in Coffee Games. She was with an old school friend who was thinking of making a show based around The Sea’s The Limit. Then later, she came to see me and said she’d rather do a show about me and the agency.”
“I bet Betty’s thrilled about that.”
“I’m not sure if she even knows yet.”
“When do you start filming? Do you think I’ll be able to get in on the act as the star’s husband?”
“I don’t think I’m going to do it.”
“Why not? It’ll be brilliant.”
“It’s fraught with danger. I’m already in Daze’s bad books. If I were to slip up on live TV, that would be curtains for me. For us.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. If you were extra careful, though, it might be okay. Have you already turned it down?”
“Not yet. I told her that I needed some time to think about it.”
“Fair enough. It has to be your decision.” He turned on the TV. “Oh no! Spooky TV is off air.”
“I might have had something to do with that. Sorry.”
“Never mind.” He flicked channels until he found something that caught his eye. “This might be interesting.” It was a documentary about emperor penguins. “I love these guys, don’t you?”
I didn’t answer because I was too busy thinking about a different kind of penguin.
Chapter 24
“They’re still there,” Jack shouted from the lounge.
“Who is?”
“The roadworks.”
“What did you expect? Did you think they’d disappear overnight?”
“There’s still no one working over there.”
Rather than continue to shout from the kitchen, I joined him in the lounge. “I told you yesterday, this kind of thing happens all the time. They put up the barriers and one of those tent thingies, but then they don’t actually do any work for a day or two.”
“You don’t think it’s a gas leak, do you?”
“No. If it was, they would have gone house-to-house, warning everyone. They’re probably just laying cable or something.”
“I suppose so. By the way, what were you up to last night after I’d gone to bed?”
“I was doing some research on a case.”
“At midnight?”
“Yeah. That documentary you were watching got me thinking about the Washbridge Penguins case.”
“I thought you told me that case was closed?”
“It is, but there’s something about it that’s still bugging me. In fact, there’s a lot about it that’s bugging me.”
“Such as?”
“Why would this Royston guy spend so much money on a junior football team in which he seems to have little or no interest?”
“Maybe he’s just a philanthropist. For all you know, he may donate money to a variety of causes.”
“I suppose that’s possible, but why did he pay me off like that? Why give me more money than I was due just to shut down the case. Unless—”
“Unless there was something he didn’t want you to uncover.”
“Precisely.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to get involved.”
“Who says I’m going to get involved?”
“Are you?”
“Of course I am. I’d probably let it go if it wasn’t for the fact that there are children involved. If Royston is up to no good, it may have some impact on those kids.”
“What are you planning on doing?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but I thought I’d start by paying a visit to Victor Duyew, the guy who brought the case to me in the first place.”
***
As I walked up the stairs to my offices, I noticed a peculiar smell—it was a bit like glue.
And that’s probably because it was glue. There was a jar of the stuff on Mrs V’s chair. She was using a brush to apply it to her desktop.
“Mrs V?”
“Morning, Jill.”
“Has your desk broken?”
“No, dear, but it is rather boring, don’t you think?”
“It’s a desk. They’re supposed to be boring.” Except of course for the infamous orange dolphin desk, but that was best forgotten.
“They don’t have to be boring, dear. That’s where decoupage comes in.”
“De-coo what?”
“Decoupage. It comes from the French for cutting out.”
“I think I saw something about that when I flicked the TV onto the Craft Network by mistake. I didn’t realise you were into that stuff?”
“I started about a month ago. Do you remember Victoria Crumb?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I’m sure I’ve mentioned her to you before. She’s the one with the chihuahuas and the bad back.” Mrs V laughed. “It’s Victoria who has the bad back, not the dogs.”
“Maybe you did mention her, I’m not sure.”
“Anyway, I was at the fortnightly yarnie social, and I happened to mention that I was looking for another hobby. Something that wasn’t yarn related. Someone suggested hang-gliding, but that didn’t sound like my kind of thing. Victoria told me about decoupage, so I gave it a go, and now I seem to have caught the bug.”
“Are you planning to give your desk the decoupage treatment?”
“Yes, unless you have any objections. I thought it would brighten the place up. Do you mind?”
“Err, no. I guess not.”
“I thought I’d do the desktop first and see how that looks. And then maybe the drawers.”
“Okay but be careful with that glue. It has a very strong smell.”
“Silly me.” She grabbed her handbag and took out a small facemask. “I meant to put this on earlier. I’d forget my head if it was loose.”
I left Mrs V to her decoupage, and went through to my office, where I wouldn’t have to put up with the smell of glue.
Or so I thought.
Winky, complete with facemask, had a jar of glue in one hand and a brush in the other
.
“What are you up to now?” I sighed.
He mumbled something indecipherable through the facemask.
“Take off that mask. I can’t hear a word you’re saying.”
“I said, what does it look like I’m doing? Decoupage, of course.”
“Why?”
“I think we can agree that the old bag lady doesn’t have many good ideas, but I thought this one sounded interesting, so I decided to give it a go.”
“And you just happened to have the necessary supplies on hand, I suppose?”
“Of course not. I ordered them from Feline Crafters, using their priority delivery service.”
There were times, and this was one of them, when I wondered if I was the only sane person on the planet.
“Why do you do that?” He gave me a puzzled look.
“Do what?”
“That thing you just did. That ‘There were times, and this was one of them, that I wondered if I was the only sane person on the planet’ thing.”
“I—err—I didn’t actually say that out loud, did I?”
“No.”
“So how come you know what I was thinking? Can you read my mind now?”
“No, but you’re like an open book.”
“Anyway, never mind that. What are you planning on decoupaging?”
“I’m not sure that decoupaging is actually a word, but in answer to your question, I thought I’d do your desk.”
“Oh no, you don’t. I don’t want you and that glue anywhere near my desk.”
“I won’t charge you. Well, only for the materials.”
“I said no.”
“How about the sofa?”
“Nope.”
“What can I do, then?”
I looked around the office. “If you must do something, you can do the screen.”
“That’s a bit boring. I thought you’d want to add a bit of spark to this place before filming starts.”
“What filming?”
“The reality TV show. I hope you’ve had it written into the contract that I get plenty of screen time.”
“There isn’t going to be a reality TV show.”
“Why not?”
“It’s far too risky. One slip, and I’d be letting the whole TV audience know that I’m a witch.”
