Witch is How The Tables Turned

by Adele Abbott

  “I wouldn’t give house-room to one of those things.”

  “You never did have any taste.”

  “Whatever. I’d better feed you now because I’m going home.”

  “Since when did you work part-time?”

  “I’ve been working all night.” I put some cat food in his dish.

  “Where’s the salmon?”

  “We’re all out unless you want to finish that tin I brought in yesterday?”

  “I’m not eating that muck.”

  “You’ll have to make do with this, then.”

  “Are you sure about the clock? It’s your last chance.”

  “I’ve rarely been more sure about anything.”

  “I’m going home, Mrs V.”

  “Probably as well. You’d scare away clients looking like that.”

  She was right. After the soaking I’d taken from the mermaids, I looked a complete mess.

  I was halfway down the stairs when my phone rang.

  “Jill? It’s Henry Tyler.”

  “Hi.”

  “Are you okay? You sound a little weird.”

  “I’m fine. What can I do for you?”

  “I wanted to let you know that I’ve managed to arrange for you to visit Jude in prison on Monday morning.”

  “Great. How’s he doing?”

  “Not very well. He still can’t believe what’s happened. Are you familiar with Longdale Prison?”

  “Yes, I’m something of a regular visitor there.”

  “I’ll meet you outside the gates at ten.”

  “Okay. See you Monday.”

  ***

  When I arrived home, there was a small white van parked on next door’s drive. Tony and Clare were standing behind it, and judging by their gesticulations, they appeared to be arguing. Again. Hopefully, I’d be able to make it into the house without them spotting me.

  “Hi, Jill! Clare shouted.

  Drat!

  “Oh, hi. I didn’t see you behind the van.”

  “Don’t mention the van. It’s a sore point. Men! They don’t have the sense they were born with.”

  “I don’t see how it’s my fault,” Tony shot back.

  “The costumes were your idea.”

  “How were they my idea? We discussed it.”

  “Do you have these problems with Jack, Jill?” Clare said.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Tony came up with the brilliant idea of getting the giant-us costumes.”

  “It wasn’t just my idea,” he argued.

  “As I was saying.” Clare ignored his interruption. “He came up with the idea without considering how we could transport the costumes to the venue.”

  “Is that why you’ve got the van?”

  “Yes. We couldn’t get them into the car, so we hired this van, but this isn’t big enough either.”

  “We’re going to need a Transit van,” Tony said.

  “This is costing us a small fortune.” Clare sighed.

  “Wouldn’t you have had the same problem whichever giant costume you’d gone with?” I asked.

  “No because GiantCon provides on-site costume hire for this very reason. We could have taken the car, and hired something when we got there. But oh no, Tony insisted on going with the giant-us.”

  “It wasn’t just my idea.” Tony was getting more and more infuriated.

  It seemed to me that the argument had now gone full circle, so while they were back at one another’s throats, I made my escape into the house.

  If and when I ever found the time to think about some kind of hobby or interest that Jack and I could share, cosplay was definitely off the list.

  ***

  I sank onto the bed and was fast asleep in a matter of minutes. I didn’t bother to set an alarm because I planned to sleep until Jack got home and made dinner.

  What? Of course it was his turn.

  I was enjoying a dream about winning a lifetime’s supply of Maxitaste blueberry muffins when something woke me. A quick check of my phone showed that I’d only been asleep for just over an hour. At first, I wasn’t sure what had disturbed me, but then I heard that familiar but unwelcome splashing sound.

  As I feared, Mr Ivers, Cheesy and three other men were all in the hot tub. I couldn’t understand how Ivers could afford to take so much time away from his new shop, but right now, I had more pressing concerns. This had gone way beyond a joke, and it was time for radical action.

  “Ouch! Ouch!” Cheesy was the first to scramble out of the tub.

  “Ouch! Get off me!” A man, with so much body hair it should have been illegal, was the next to climb out.

  The others, including Mr Ivers, were quick to follow.

  “What’s in there?” Cheesy stared into the water.

  “Whatever it is nipped my toe.” Body Hair pointed to his foot.

  “Over there, look!” Cheesy pointed.

  “Those are crabs.” Body Hair turned on Mr Ivers. “What’s your game, Monty? Is this some kind of sick joke?”

  “I didn’t put them in there.”

  “I’m off.” Body Hair picked up his towel and headed out of the garden. Cheesy and the others followed.

  “Don’t go, guys!” Mr Ivers called after them. “I’m sure I’ll be able to sort this out.”

  But, it was too late; they’d already gone. Once bitten, twice shy, I guess.

  Snigger!

  As hard as I tried, I couldn’t get off to sleep again. Thank goodness I wasn’t expected at the plastics factory tonight. I’d arranged to pay a flying visit during the dayshift on Monday, and then to work another nightshift on Tuesday.

  As I was wide awake, I decided to make use of the remaining time before dinner. I had hoped that the police would have released the basement where Theo Crane had been held prisoner, but it was still being treated as a crime scene.

  No worries. A little magic should get me inside.

  ***

  The house in which Theo Crane had been kept for all those weeks was in an area of Washbridge that I rarely visited. Oldwash was run-down and in desperate need of regeneration. Whole housing estates were now derelict, and it was on one of those that I found the house in question. It was easy enough to spot because it was still cordoned off by yellow police tape. A solitary police officer stood guard outside, and judging by the downcast expression on his face, he’d drawn the short straw.

  “Hi!” I treated him to my brightest, breeziest voice.

  “Hello there.”

  “You look bored.”

  “I’ll be glad when it’s five o’clock.” He could only manage a weak smile.

  “Funny business this, isn’t it?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t discuss it.”

  “Of course not, but being locked up in there for all that time can’t have been pleasant, can it?”

  “I suppose not.”

  “Could I take a quick peak inside?”

  “Certainly not. I think it would be best if you moved along.”

  “Okay. Bye, then.”

  I walked away, all casual-like, and then turned onto a side street so I was out of his sight. Fortunately, there was no one else around, so I was able to make myself invisible there and then. Once invisible-me was back at the house, I had one more problem to overcome. The policeman was standing smack bang in front of the doorway.

  “What the—?” He almost jumped out of his skin when ‘something’ knocked his helmet from his head. He spun around, obviously expecting to find someone behind him, but there was no one there. At least, no one he could see. His face was only inches from mine, and judging by his breath, he’d had fish for lunch. Maybe he was a member of the Salmon Association, too?

  Satisfied that there was no one standing behind him, but still somewhat confused as to what had dislodged his helmet, he stepped forward to retrieve it. That gave me the opportunity I needed to slip inside the house.

  The property was much worse inside than
outside. Several floorboards were missing, parts of the ceiling had collapsed, and the whole place smelled of damp and decay. There had obviously once been a door at the head of the basement steps, but all that remained of that now were the hinges. Some of the wooden steps leading down to the basement were rotten, others creaked.

  “Who’s down there?” Drat, he must have heard the steps creaking. “Come out!”

  His footsteps were getting closer, so I hurried down the remaining steps, and ducked inside the room at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Come out now or it will be worse for you!” When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he came into the room where I was standing, and switched on the light. “Where are you?” He had his Taser in his hand.

  Little did he know that I was standing no more than six feet in front of him; just far enough away to escape his fishy breath. The look of fear on his face was slowly replaced by one of confusion. He was sure he’d heard someone on the basement stairs, so where were they? Eventually, he must have convinced himself that the sounds had all been in his head, and he went back up the stairs, turning off the light behind him.

  I waited for a few minutes before switching the light on again. The room contained a bed and very little else. A second door on the back wall led to a toilet with a washbasin. Both rooms were cold and dirty. I couldn’t imagine spending more than a few hours in there, let alone several weeks. I had hoped to find clues of some kind, but there was nothing to see except for the damaged door jamb at the bottom of the stairs, which Theo Crane had worked on to secure his escape.

  The stairs creaked again on my way back up, but this time the police officer didn’t react. He was standing far enough away from the front door that I could have easily squeezed past him, but I knocked his helmet off again, anyway. Just for a laugh.

  What? A girl has to get her fun where she can.

  ***

  I was still feeling the disappointment of having missed out on the Maxitaste muffins, but I knew what would ease the pain. Cuppy C muffins were not in the same league as Maxitaste, but they were better than nothing.

  Oh no! Tragedy!

  When I arrived at Cuppy C, the shop was closed. Pearl and Mindy were standing outside, peering through the window.

  “What’s going on?” I went over to join them. “Why are you closed? Are there more problems with the building work?”

  “No, that’s all fine,” Pearl said. “It’s the stupid tables. Look!”

  On my previous visit, there’d been an incident when one of the table tops had started to revolve. Today, all of them were revolving, and much faster than before.

  “When did this start?”

  “About an hour ago,” Mindy said. “It’s been happening intermittently for a couple of days, but it was one table at a time, and it only lasted for a few minutes. These have been spinning non-stop for ages.”

  “I assume you had to ask the customers to leave?”

  “We didn’t need to. Their food and drink had been thrown onto the floor. They weren’t very impressed.”

  “I bet.”

  “We’re going to have to keep the shop closed until the tables stop spinning, but so far there’s no sign of that happening.”

  “What a pity. I’d really been looking forward to a muffin.”

  “Is that all you can think about, Jill?” Pearl turned on me.

  “It’s just that I’ve already had one muffin no-show today.”

  “How truly awful for you. Our livelihood is at risk and all you can think about is your stomach.”

  Harsh but true.

  “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Not unless you know how to stop the stupid tables from spinning around.”

  “Let me go inside and take a look.”

  Pearl unlocked the door and let me into the tea room. Once inside, I had to watch my footing because the floor was covered in cakes and spilled liquids. It soon became evident that magic was behind this, but I couldn’t work out which spell had been used, so I couldn’t do anything about it. But I knew a woman who could.

  Back outside the shop, Pearl was eager to hear if I had any bright ideas.

  “I don’t recognise the spell, but I’ll go and have a word with Grandma. If anyone will know what this is, she will.”

  “Okay, but please be quick.”

  “I will.”

  I was about to magic myself back to Washbridge when Pearl shouted, “What’s that in your hand?”

  “Nothing.” I showed her my empty palm.

  “The other hand.”

  “Oh, you mean this?” I held up the muffin. “It seemed a shame not to pick one up while I was in there.”

  What? There are only so many muffin disappointments I can take in one day.

  Chapter 13

  I was still feeling a little guilty about the muffin (though not guilty enough to stop me eating it) when I magicked myself back to Washbridge.

  “Is my grandmother around, Julie?”

  “She’s across the road at Ever A Wool Moment.”

  Julie, the head Everette, was usually happy and full of smiles, but not today, and I suspected I knew why.

  “How long have you had the new uniforms?”

  “Today’s the first day.”

  “They’re very—err—yellow.”

  “Tell me about it. I feel like a canary.”

  “What inspired the change?”

  “Your grandmother is obsessed with giving her businesses a boost. This is all part of that. She reckons we’ll make the place brighter and more welcoming if we dress in these.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “Have you heard the promotion she has planned for this weekend?”

  “I knew she was planning something. What is it?”

  “I’ve no idea. She hasn’t told us anything.”

  “To be fair to her, she usually gets it right when it comes to marketing.”

  “Except for these uniforms.”

  “Yeah, except for those. Well, thanks for the info, Julie. I’ll go and see if I can track her down.”

  “You won’t mention what I said about the uniforms or the promotion, will you?”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  “Morning, Jill.” Kim Neaper was behind the counter of EAWM.

  “Morning. Is my grandmother here?”

  “Yes, she’s in the office, but I wouldn’t disturb her if I were you. I only poked my head around the door to ask if she wanted a cup of tea, and she nearly bit it off.”

  “What’s she up to?”

  “How would I know?” Kim rolled her eyes. “I’m only the manager after all.” She glanced down the shop, presumably to make sure Grandma hadn’t come out of the office, and then in a hushed voice said, “Between you and me, she’s planning to make some kind of big announcement tomorrow, but she won’t say what it is. It’s all very hush-hush.”

  “I need to see her. This is kind of urgent.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  I’d no sooner opened the door to her office than Grandma yelled, “How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t want a drink and I don’t want to be disturbed!”

  “It’s me, Grandma.” I poked my head around the door.

  “What is this? Piccadilly Circus? Didn’t Kim tell you I was busy?”

  “Err—yeah, she—”

  “And that I wasn’t to be disturbed?”

  “She did say that.”

  “But you thought you’d come barging in here anyway. Do you have any idea how busy I am?”

  “Preparing for tomorrow’s big announcement?”

  “How do you know about that? Who’s been shooting their mouth off?”

  “Err—no one, I—err—” A quick change of subject was required. “I love the new Everette uniforms. I assume they were your idea?”

  “Of course.”

  “They’re fantastic; such a lovely colour. Anyway, the reason I’m here: It’s about the twins.”<
br />
  “What about them?”

  “They’re in a spot of bother.”

  “And you thought that was newsworthy enough to disturb me? They’re always in trouble with those harebrained schemes of theirs.”

  “Normally, I’d agree with you, but this time it isn’t their fault. Someone is sabotaging Cuppy C.”

  “Sabotaging it how? What’s happened?”

  “The table tops have started revolving.”

  “Why would the twins make the tables do that? You would have thought they’d learned their lesson after the conveyor belt debacle.”

  “The twins didn’t do anything to make the table tops revolve. They started to do it of their own accord. It began with the odd table doing it for a few minutes, but now it’s all of them. They’re spinning much quicker now, and there’s no sign of them stopping.”

  “You’ve seen this for yourself, I assume? It’s not just their overactive imagination at work?”

  “I’m positive; I’ve just come from there. I’m pretty sure there’s magic behind it, but if there is, I can’t identify the spell.”

  “It sounds to me as though they’ve upset the wrong person.”

  “I suppose that’s possible, but they didn’t mention anything like that.” I hesitated. “Except, they did have to ask someone to leave the other day. She’d been shouting and making a nuisance of herself.”

  “Who was it?”

  “I don’t know, and I don’t think they did either. She wasn’t a regular. When they asked her to leave, she made a bit of a scene. Apparently, she was shouting that it was no way to treat a spinster.”

  “Hold on. Are you sure she said spinster?”

  “That’s what the twins said.”

  “Well, I never.” Grandma began to cackle.

  “What is it? Do you know something?”

  “I had no idea Sigourney was back.”

  “Who?”

  “Sigourney Sidelamp AKA the Spinster.”

  “Are you saying Spinster is some kind of nickname?”

  “It is, and can you guess why?”

  “Because she makes table tops revolve—err—spin?”