Witch is How The Tables Turned

by Adele Abbott

  “The landlord is here,” I said in a hushed voice.

  “Do you think he’d like to buy a cat clock?”

  “What? No. If he sees you, he’ll throw us all out on the street. Stay behind this screen and don’t make a sound.”

  “Okay, but hurry up and get rid of him, will you? I have clocks to build.”

  When I let Macabre into my office, he glanced around as though he sensed I’d been up to something.

  “What’s all that stuff?” He pointed to a few clock parts that Winky must have missed when he moved behind the screen.

  “Err—they’re clock parts.”

  “Why do you have clock parts on the floor?”

  “I build cuckoo clocks.”

  “That looks like a tiny cat to me.”

  “I know.” I laughed. “The supplier got the order mixed up. They sent me cats instead of cuckoos. I guess it’s because they both start with a ‘C’. An easy mistake to make.”

  “I hope you aren’t selling those from here?”

  “No, of course not. They’re all for my own use. We have them all around our house. Jack, that’s my husband, says I’m obsessed with them.”

  “Because if you were selling them, that would break the terms of the lease.”

  “Don’t worry your head on that score. There are no cuckoo clocks being sold from these offices.” Cat clocks, though, that was a different matter entirely.

  “In that case, let’s get down to business.” Without waiting to be asked, he took a seat. “You may have heard that the business down the corridor has failed?”

  “Yes, I spoke to Lucas earlier.”

  “It’s all very inconvenient.”

  “I’m sure they didn’t go out of business just to annoy you.”

  “Regardless, it means I have to look for a new tenant, which is why I’ve come to see you.”

  “If you’re here to ask if I want to expand into next door, I’m afraid the answer is no. These offices serve my needs perfectly.”

  “I didn’t think for one moment that your little operation was likely to be expanding any time soon. That’s why I’ve had a To Let sign put up. The point is that it can be very difficult to lease part of a building like this. It would be much easier if the whole of this floor were to be available.”

  “Maybe, but it isn’t because I’m here.”

  “Precisely.”

  “Precisely what?”

  “It would be better for all concerned if you were to move out.”

  “It wouldn’t be better for me. I have no intention of going anywhere. My lease has several years to run on it yet, and there’s no way you can get me out of here before then.”

  “Unless of course, you were to break the terms of the lease. For example, if you were to be selling clocks from here.”

  “Which I’ve already told you I’m not doing.”

  “So you said, but if I find out otherwise—”

  “If there’s nothing else, Mr Macabre, I am rather busy.”

  He stood up. “One wrong move and you’re out.”

  “Nice to see you too.”

  “I reckon that guy has the hots for you.” Winky went back to working on his clocks.

  “We’ll need to be very careful. I wouldn’t put it past him to set his spies on me. If they see you, we’ll be finished.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m like a ninja. Now you see me.” He rushed under the sofa. “Now you don’t.”

  “Very reassuring.”

  ***

  Despite her assurances to the contrary, I couldn’t help but wonder if Kathy had some ulterior motive for asking me over for a cuppa.

  “How come you get so many days off?” I said when she came to the door.

  “It’s a mixture of good organisation and delegation. You should try it.”

  “Who am I going to delegate to? Mrs V? Winky?”

  “Your problem is that you’re a control freak. Anyone else would have trained up an assistant by now.”

  “I am not a control freak.”

  “Not much. You have been ever since you were a kid.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Whenever you and I went out anywhere, you always had to be in charge.”

  “I don’t know where you’re getting this from. Anyway, do I get a cup of tea or not?”

  “I thought we might have coffee. I’ve bought one of those new-fangled coffee machines. Like those they have in the coffee shops.”

  “I’ve seen those; they’re incredibly expensive. How come you can afford one?”

  “The shop is doing well, and Pete’s business is doing brilliantly. In fact, I have exciting news about both. Come through to the kitchen; I’ll make us a coffee, and then I’ll tell you all about it.”

  I watched her struggle for several minutes before asking, “Do you know how to work that thing?”

  “This is the first time I’ve used it. It was only delivered this afternoon.”

  “Did it come with an instruction manual?”

  “Yes, but I don’t need that. I just have to press this button.” She jumped back from the steam. “Maybe it should be this knob. Or perhaps it’s that one.”

  “I’ll put the kettle on, shall I?”

  Kathy eventually gave up, and we settled for instant coffee, which we took through to the lounge.

  “I’ll get Pete to read the manual when he comes home. He’s good with anything technical.”

  “You said you had some exciting news to tell me?”

  “Pete has been nominated for the Washbridge Landscaper Of The Year Award, for his work at Washbridge House. It’s a very prestigious award, so if he wins, it could lead to a lot more work.”

  “That’s nice. You’ll be able to buy another coffee machine.”

  The snark simply rolled off her back. “And my accountant gave me the go-ahead last week to open a second bridal shop.”

  “Don’t you think that’s a bit premature? The first one hasn’t been open five minutes.”

  “Not at all. Provided the shops are profitable, there’s no reason why I shouldn’t end up with a whole chain of them. You have to think big, Jill.”

  “Are you still planning to open the second shop in West Chipping?”

  “Yeah. In fact, Pete and I went to look at vacant premises over the weekend, and we’ve seen something that we think would be ideal. It’s in a great location, the rent is reasonable and it’s in good condition.”

  “Sounds great.”

  “It is, but I’d value your opinion before I sign anything.”

  “My opinion?”

  “Yes. You’re a savvy businesswoman. I’d be silly not to listen to your opinion.”

  “That’s true. When did you have in mind?”

  “I thought we could go over there tomorrow afternoon if that suits you?”

  “I should be able to fit that in. What time will you pick me up?”

  “Actually, I was hoping we could take your car. Mine has to go in for a service tomorrow.”

  “Hold on. That’s why you asked me to go, isn’t it? You need a lift.”

  “Of course not,” she lied through her teeth.

  That sister of mine was so conniving. She didn’t really care about my opinion of the new shop; she just needed a lift. And I’d fallen for her soft soap. Again.

  ***

  When I got home, Jack’s car was on the driveway, but there was no sign of him in the house. I was about to phone him when I spotted a note on the kitchen table. It read: Look out of the back window.

  I did, but I immediately regretted it. That image was now burned on my mind, and I’d probably never be able to get rid of it.

  Waving at me from the hot tub in Mr Ivers’ garden were Jack and Monty. Jack has a great physique, so seeing him bare-chested is never a bad thing. But Mr Ivers? That was a whole different story.

  This was obviously the ‘surprise’ that Mr Ivers had told me about. Hot tubs were one of a multitude of things that I didn’t ‘get�
��. They might be okay if you lived somewhere with a great climate, but in a back garden in Smallwash? Really?

  If he was lucky, he might get to use it for thirty days a year max. I suppose it could always double as a skating rink in the winter.

  “Didn’t I tell you I had a big surprise, Jill?” Mr Ivers raised a glass of wine.

  “You did say that.”

  “What do you think of it?”

  “I—err—words fail me, actually.”

  “You should come and join us.” Jack had a glass of wine too.

  “Tempting as that is, I think I’ll pass. I have to make dinner.”

  “But it’s my turn today. Why don’t you get changed into your bathing costume, and join Mr Ivers while I see to the dinner?”

  “I wouldn’t hear of it. You two are obviously enjoying yourselves. I’ll make dinner; you can make it for the next two nights.”

  “To the hot tub!” Mr Ivers raised his glass.

  “To the hot tub!” Jack joined in the toast.

  Oh boy!

  Chapter 4

  “We should have bought a hot tub instead of that sandpit,” Jack said, over breakfast, the next morning.

  “One hot tub in the neighbourhood is one too many.”

  “It was great in there. Really invigorating.”

  “I had to make dinner because of that stupid hot tub.”

  “You volunteered to do it. I told you to get changed and join Mr Ivers in the tub.”

  “I’d rather eat my own bodyweight in muesli than climb in there with him. A body like his should always be covered up.”

  “He was telling me that things have been a little quiet in his shop.”

  “I don’t know what he expected. When I was talking to him yesterday, it was obvious he had no idea that people could go online on their phones. There’s no hope for the man. First a DVD rental business, and now an internet café. What next? A CB store?”

  “I used to love CB.”

  “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “Breaker, breaker, do you copy?”

  “It’s as well I didn’t know that before I agreed to marry you.”

  “Ten-four, good buddy.”

  “Enough! No more with the CB references.”

  “Copy that. By the way, did Kathy have anything interesting to say yesterday? I didn’t get a chance to ask you last night.”

  “That’s because you were in the hot tub until midnight.”

  “Don’t exaggerate. It was only nine o’clock. So, did she?”

  “She’s bought one of those high-tech coffee machines, like they have in Coffee Games. She didn’t have a clue how to work it, though, so we ended up with instant.”

  “I wouldn’t mind getting one of those machines.”

  “We can’t afford one. It feels like you and I are the poor relations. It sounds as though Kathy is going ahead with the new shop; she’s asked me to go with her to West Chipping today, to give her my opinion on some premises she’s thinking of renting.”

  “Are you sure she doesn’t just want a lift?” He grinned.

  “Of course not. She values my business acumen.”

  “It’s just that Peter told me Kathy’s car was going in for a service today.”

  “When did you talk to Peter?”

  “I bumped into him in town yesterday. Did you know he’s up for an award for his landscaping?”

  “Yeah, Kathy mentioned it. It’s a pity there aren’t awards for P.I.s, I’d have a cabinet full of them by now. By the way, you’ll never guess what Kathy accused me of yesterday?”

  “I bet it wasn’t modesty.”

  “She said I’m a control freak.”

  “And?”

  “Nothing could be further from the truth.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Are you saying I am?”

  “Totally.”

  “Rubbish.” I finished the last of my coffee. “Are you really going to wear that tie for work?”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Nothing, I suppose. The grey one is better, though. Did you remember to put the dishwasher on last night?”

  “I thought I’d put it on before I went to work this morning.”

  “Oh? I thought we’d agreed evenings were best? What are you smirking at?”

  “Me? Nothing, Little Miss Control Freak.”

  I was always amazed by the many misconceptions people had about me. Bossy? Control freak? Argumentative? Grumpy? It’s as though they were talking about someone else.

  ***

  When I left for work, I found two giants in next door’s garden. Not any old giants, but a giant Tony and a giant Clare—my next-door neighbours. For a moment, I thought that maybe a sup had cast a spell on them, but when they came closer, I realised that they were in fact wearing costumes.

  “Hi, Jill,” said normal-sized Tony from inside the giant Tony costume.

  “Morning, Jill.” This time it was normal-sized Clare speaking from inside the giant Clare costume.

  Confused? How do you think I felt?

  “Morning, you two. Those costumes are very realistic. Are they for another con?”

  “Yes, it’s GiantCon this weekend,” Tony said. “Everyone will be wearing bog-standard giant costumes, but we thought it would be fun to go as giant versions of ourselves.”

  “We spent way too much money on these.” Giant Clare took a couple of hesitant steps forward. “But I think the results are worth it.”

  “They’re very impressive.”

  “They can be a little difficult to walk in.” Giant Tony took a few steps forward to prove the point. “But I think we’ve just about mastered—aargh.”

  He tripped, and I only just managed to get out of the way before he hit the ground.

  “Are you okay?” I shouted.

  Before he could respond, giant Clare seemed to lose her balance too, and landed on top of her giant husband.

  “Are you both alright in there?”

  “I’m okay,” Clare shouted. “These costumes have a lot of padding inside.”

  “We may need your help to get up, Jill.” Giant Tony rolled onto his side. “It isn’t easy to stand up in these things.”

  “Okay, I’ll try.”

  Fifteen minutes later, I was exhausted and soaked in sweat, but I’d finally managed to get the two giants back on their feet.

  “Thanks, Jill,” Tony said.

  “No problem, but I think you’re going to need a lot of practice walking in those costumes before you go to the con.”

  “We’ll be alright once we get there. The organisers of GiantCon are very clued up. They always hire a bunch of people whose job it is to come to the assistance of any giants who lose their footing. They call them giant’s little helpers. We’re sorry if we’ve made you late for work.”

  One shower and a change of clothing later, I finally managed to set off for the office. Although Tony and Clare were clearly two cogs short of a cuckoo clock, it was nice to see their shared passion for cosplay. I loved Jack to bits, and we got on fantastically well, but we didn’t have that kind of shared interest. Maybe we should try to find something that we could do together. But what? I would make it my mission to come up with something.

  ***

  “I have a driving lesson mid-morning, Jill.” Mrs V was studying the Highway Code.

  “How are the driving lessons going?”

  “Very well. Maxi says I’m almost ready to go on the main roads.”

  “Haven’t you already driven on them?”

  “A little, but we’ve mainly been driving around industrial estates. Maxi says that’s the best place to start because there’s hardly any traffic there. She wants me to build up my confidence first.”

  “That make sense, I guess.”

  “I think I’ve finally mastered the flashers, though.”

  “That’s good. By the way, I meant to ask how the knitters’ conference went.”

  “Very well, but it was spoiled a
little when we discovered that the crocheters had copied our format almost entirely. It was as though someone had seen my notes and stolen all my ideas.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “I know they couldn’t have done that because my notes were in my desk drawer all the time. I would have known if anyone had looked at them. It must simply be one of those strange coincidences.”

  “I guess so.”

  Or it could be that the woman posing as a meter reader had in fact already seen Mrs V’s notes before I caught her. Big softy that I was, I’d fallen for her pleas of innocence, and had allowed her to walk out of here.

  Probably best not to mention that to Mrs V.

  I was about to go through to my office when Mrs V called me back, “Jill, I almost forgot. I had a phone call from a Mr Tyler a few minutes before you arrived. He said it was in connection with the recent kidnapping case that has been in the news.”

  “Oh? Did he say what exactly he wanted to see me about?”

  “Something about the wrong man being arrested. He’ll be here in about thirty minutes. I hope that’s okay. I would have checked your diary if you kept one.”

  “That’s fine.”

  At my desk, I thought about Mrs V’s not-so subtle reprimand about the lack of a diary. Much as I hated to admit it, that corresponded with the comments that Kathy had made. I was confident in my abilities as a P.I., but if I was being honest, I was pretty useless when it came to organisational skills, and I definitely had to learn to delegate more. Mrs V played her (unpaid) part, but I couldn’t realistically expect her to take on anything more demanding. What I needed was an office manager—someone who could get me organised, and who could take on all the tasks not directly related to investigating. But how would I pay them? The theory was that a good manager would release me to undertake more work, which in turn, would increase my earnings. I definitely liked the idea of an office manager, but I realised it would only work if I wasn’t some kind of control freak who couldn’t let go.

  Just as well I wasn’t.

  ***

  Henry Tyler was tall, dark and worried. He was accompanied by a woman I recognised from the photograph that had appeared in The Bugle article. Nancy Crane was the wife of Jude Crane, the brother of Theo Crane, the man who had been kidnapped.