by Adele Abbott
“How little you know.”
“There’s no address on the flyer. How will they know where to go?”
“That’s simple. They call the number on the bottom, and that gives them all the information they need.”
“It had better not be based in this office.”
“I’m not going to use your office. Why won’t you believe me?”
“Maybe it has something to do with your track record. It isn’t that long ago that you turned my office into a knitwear factory.”
“Fear not. Your office is safe.”
“I can check. I’ll call the number on the flyer.”
“Good luck with that. The message is in feline code.”
“What’s that?”
“I could tell you, but then I’d be forced to kill you.”
Drat! Foiled again.
***
It had been a long day, what with one thing and another. I still hadn’t sorted out the Mrs V/Jules situation, but I couldn’t face it right then. I’d tackle that another day.
Jack wasn’t home when I got back to the house. That gave me the chance to check out the blog that Kathy had told me about. It wasn’t difficult to find. The blogs on the Washbridge Bloggers website were listed in order of popularity. The Wizard’s Wife’s blog was number one by some considerable margin.
I searched for the very first post. I had a good idea of the date when Blake had told Jen his secret. If the blog had been started before then, it was unlikely to be Jen’s. Unfortunately, the dates more or less coincided. The blog had been started about five days after Blake had told Jen that he was a wizard. That didn’t bode well.
Thirty minutes later, I was sure that it was Jen’s blog. I could quite clearly hear her ‘voice’ in the posts published on the blog. The words she used, and her turn of phrase—all of them left me in no doubt that Jen was behind this. What a disaster! Blake should never have told her. If this blog went viral, then every sup living in Washbridge would be in trouble. Did Blake know Jen was doing this? I highly doubted it. I had to tell him, and I had to make sure that he got her to stop. Immediately.
“So? What was it?” Jack said, as soon as he arrived home.
“What was what?”
“The exciting thing that Kathy wanted to show you? I thought you might have sent a text to tell me.”
“It was a vacuum cleaner.”
“Are you being serious?”
“Deadly. She dragged me all the way over there to look at her new vacuum cleaner. And then, just to make things even worse, her custard creams were soggy.” I gave Jack a kiss. “How was your day? It can’t have been any worse than mine.”
“It wasn’t much better. The criminals must all be on holiday this week. I spent most of the day investigating a break-in at a fish and chip shop.”
“What did they steal?”
“They didn’t. They forced their way in from the rear of the building. They had to partially demolish a wall to get in.”
“But they didn’t take anything?”
“No, but that might be because they’d got their bearings wrong. The shop next door is a jeweller. We think that was their intended target.”
“They broke into the wrong shop?”
“Never underestimate the stupidity of the criminal mind.” Jack dropped his newspaper onto the coffee table. “I’m going to take a shower. I stink of fish, chips and mushy peas.”
When he’d gone upstairs, I noticed the headline on The Bugle, which read: An Icy End. It was the tragic story of a man who worked at the local cold store. He’d somehow managed to get himself locked in the deep freeze, and had frozen to death.
Chapter 4
“Why do you have to go in early?” I asked Jack while trying to decide between toast, porridge or cornflakes for breakfast.
“I have to interview the owner of the fish and chip shop. He’s an early riser, apparently.”
“Where are you interviewing him? His plaice or yours?” I laughed.
Jack gave me a puzzled look.
“Plaice? Get it?”
He just sighed.
“Oh my cod! You’re no fun anymore.” I laughed again.
“You need help, Jill.”
“You’d batter hurry up or you’ll be late.”
“No more, please. There’s a limit to how many of your terrible puns I can take in the morning.”
“You’re no fun. When I met you, I thought you haddock a sense of humour.”
He rolled his eyes. “Talking of fun. I’ve been thinking.”
“Steady on. That’s twice in one week.”
“We should get away more.”
“We’ve already got a holiday booked.”
“I’m talking about short breaks—long weekends—that kind of thing.”
That wasn’t a bad idea. I was all for long weekends spent in luxury hotels. I enjoyed being pampered.
“I was thinking that we should get a caravan,” he said.
“Do what?”
“That way we can get away whenever we want. No need to book in advance. We just wait until the weather is good, hitch the caravan, and off we go.”
“A caravan?”
“Yeah. It’ll be great.”
“A caravan?”
“It needn’t be all that expensive. There are some bargains to be had.”
“A caravan?”
“What do you think?”
“I think I’d rather tie myself to the back of a car with a rope, and let you drag me down the road.”
“What’s wrong with a caravan?”
“It’s a small tin box on wheels.”
“Rubbish. Caravans have all mod-cons these days. They’re a home from home.”
“A tin home. On wheels.”
“I’ve sent for a brochure. You’ll soon change your mind when you see just how well equipped they are nowadays. Anyway, I’d better get going.” He gave me a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll see you tonight.”
A caravan? Not happening—not on my watch.
I had hoped to catch Blake on his own before he went to work, but by the time I’d had breakfast and was ready to leave, his car had already gone.
“Jill! Hi!” Jen came scurrying across the road.
“Morning. Has Blake left already?”
“Yeah. He has some work he needs to catch up on.”
“Jack too. He has an urgent appointment at a fish and chip shop.”
“Sorry?”
“It’s just a case he’s working on. How are you, anyway? You’re looking very chipper.”
“Blake and I are getting on so much better these days. I feel much more relaxed.”
“That’s good. I need to chill out more, too. I should find a new hobby. I seem to spend most of my time surfing the Net. Do you spend much time online, Jen?”
“Me? No. Hardly any. And, I never blog.”
“Blog?”
“In case you were wondering. I don’t. Blog. Ever.”
“Me neither. I’ve never understood what people find to talk about in blogs.”
“Oh? Is that the time?” She made a show of glancing at her watch. “I have to run. Bye, Jill.”
“Bye.”
If there had been any doubt before, there wasn’t now. Jen was definitely the mysterious Wizard’s Wife blogger.
I was just about to get into the car when I heard Mrs Rollo calling to me.
“Jill, I’m glad I’ve caught you.”
“Morning, Mrs Rollo.”
“I have some exciting news.”
“Have you bought a new vacuum cleaner, by any chance?”
“Sorry?”
“Never mind. What’s your exciting news?”
“I’ve decided to go to Australia with Marco.”
“Wow! That really is exciting.”
“It was so good to see him. I couldn’t bear the thought of us being parted again so soon.”
“How long will you be going for?”
“I don’t know. Six mont
hs initially, but then who knows. I might stay there.”
“What about the house?”
“I’m going to rent it out for now. If I do decide to stay down-under, then I’ll sell it. That’s why I wanted to catch you. I’ll be leaving tomorrow. I’m meeting up with Marco in York. We’re going to spend some time travelling around the UK together, and then off we go to Australia. The rental people said they’d have no trouble letting this place, so you may have new neighbours soon.”
“We’ll miss you, Mrs Rollo.”
“I’m going to miss you and Jack, too. I guess you’ll have to learn to bake now.”
“I suppose so.”
“Come here.” She pulled me into her arms, and gave me a hug. “Take care of yourself, Jill.”
“You too.”
I would definitely miss Mrs Rollo, but not her cakes.
***
“Morning, Jill.”
I could hear Mr Ivers’ voice coming from inside the toll booth, but I could barely make out his face. It took me a few moments to work out what was going on, but then I realised that someone had stuck bottle tops—dozens of them—onto the inside of the glass. Mr Ivers was peering through them.
“What do you think of my collection?” He slid open the window, so I could see him.
“You collect bottle tops?”
“I most certainly do. I’m a topper, and proud of it.”
“Since when?”
“I only started recently. I stumbled across a shop in town, and since then I’ve been hooked.”
“What made you decide to stick them to the windows of the toll booth? Don’t they get in the way?”
“Not at all. It gets tiresome having people stare in at you all day long. It’s like being in a goldfish bowl. This gives me some privacy. And besides, these are only my dupes.”
“Dupes?”
“Duplicates. The less expensive tops are sold by the bagful, which means that you often end up with duplicates.”
“I see. That’s fascinating.” Why was I listening to this rubbish?
“It really is, Jill. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m seriously considering packing in the movie newsletter, and starting one aimed at toppers. But don’t worry, I’ll give my existing subscribers a discount to encourage them to swap over.”
“I might have to cancel. I’m not really into bottle tops.”
“Neither was I. Until I walked into that shop, I’d never given them a second thought. Now, it’s all I think about twenty-four seven.”
There weren’t words to describe how sad that sentence was.
***
I wasn’t looking forward to getting to the office because Mrs V and Jules would no doubt still be at each other’s throats. I needed to have it out with them once and for all; I just wasn’t sure how I was going to play it. Telling Mrs V that she’d have to remove the ‘additional’ desk wouldn’t go down well, but then telling Jules that she’d have to put up with Mrs V every day wasn’t going to be any easier. As soon as I started up the stairs, I could hear the two of them.
But wait! They weren’t yelling at one another. They were laughing.
What was going on?
“Morning, Jill.” Mrs V greeted me with a smile.
“Morning.” Jules beamed.
“Morning, both of you.”
“Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Mrs V said.
“Would you like a drink, Jill?” Jules stood up. “I was just about to make one for Annabel and myself.”
Annabel? Since when did Jules call Mrs V, Annabel? Even I didn’t call her that.
“A cup of tea would be nice.”
“One and two-thirds sugar, Jill?” Jules looked at Mrs V, and they both sniggered.
“Err—yes, please.”
“Actually, dear,” Mrs V said. “We were just talking about you, weren’t we, Jules?”
Jules giggled.
“I happened to mention to Jules that you had a favourite rubber band.”
They both laughed.
“And, I told Annabel that you also had a favourite paperclip,” Jules said.
At that, the two of them broke into fits of laughter.
“I’m pleased to know that I am such a source of amusement, but I’m intrigued, what happened? Yesterday, you were at each other’s throats.”
“We realised that we actually enjoy working together.” Mrs V wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes.
“It’s much better now.” Jules was slopping tea all over the table. “We get to talk about knitting all day long, don’t we Annabel?”
“And crochet.”
I took the cup and saucer from Jules. “So, you’re both happy with this arrangement now?”
They nodded.
“Jules will come in three days a week as before,” Mrs V said. “I’ll come in most days unless Armi has anything planned.”
“Okay.” I took a sip of tea. “We’ll give it a go, and see how it works out, but you’ll have to decide who is going to be the receptionist for the day. It’s too confusing for the clients if you both try to attend to the same person. Likewise with the scarves; it’s overwhelming if both of you offer the client one.”
“Don’t worry, Jill,” Mrs V said. “We’ll sort it out between us.”
“That’s great.” I started for my office.
“Jill,” Jules called after me. “Do you have any idea what your grandmother’s new product is?”
“I didn’t know she had one.”
“You must have seen the posters. The ones with the chameleon on them?”
“They’re Grandma’s? I’ve seen a few of them, but I didn’t realise they were for Ever.”
“It’s being launched later today. We were both wondering—err—if—err—”
“You both want to go to the launch?”
They nodded.
“Okay. I suppose so, but no more than thirty minutes.”
“Thanks, Jill.” They chorused.
Winky didn’t even acknowledge me when I walked into my office. He was on the sofa, with his head buried inside a glossy brochure.
“Morning, Jill.” I did my best Winky impression. “How are you? I’m very well, Winky. Thanks for asking.”
He looked up. “You do know they’ll come and take you away if you insist on talking to yourself, don’t you?”
“It would just be nice to get a ‘hello’.”
“Hello,” he said, and then went back to his brochure.
“What’s so fascinating?”
“Just look at these babes.”
For a horrible moment, I thought he was ogling a lingerie brochure, but then I realised he was looking at cars. Not just any old cars—these were luxury sports cars, which must have cost at least a hundred thousand pounds.
“They’re very nice, but why are you looking at them?”
“I’m trying to decide which one I should buy.”
“Yeah, right.” I laughed. “And where are you going to find that kind of money?”
“With this.” He held up a ticket.
“The Lottery?”
“It’s a triple rollover. Thirty million for the winner. And this, is going to be the winning ticket.”
“You do realise that you have more chance of being struck by lightning than you do of winning first prize?”
“And that’s precisely why you’ll never win anything. It’s all about the positivity. Me? I’m Mr Positive. And you’re little Miss Negative.”
“If you say so.”
He went back to the brochure. “I can’t decide between the red or the black.”
“Okay. Good luck with that. In the meantime, I have work to do.”
“Well, they do say a change is as good as a rest.”
Cheek!
Chapter 5
An hour later, Winky still had his head stuck in the car brochure. The poor deluded fool was still planning how to spend his lottery winnings. At least, he seemed to have dropped the idea of running a gym out of my office.
There was no way I would have stood for that nonsense.
I needed to speak with Peter to check if he knew Brendan Bowlings—the man who had disappeared after going fishing at Wash Point. I tried to call him, but the call went to voicemail, so I left a message asking him to get back to me.
“Madeline is here to see you, Jill.” Jules’ voice came through the intercom.
“Send her through, would you?”
Mad had dyed her hair lime green.
“I like what you’ve done with your hair.”
“Liar. My boss isn’t too impressed. Apparently, lime green hair does not portray the right image for a librarian.”
“Do you have to get it re-dyed?”
“No chance. He can kiss my butt. I think it suits me.”
“Have your mum and Nails made up yet?”
“No, and Mum’s taking it pretty badly.”
“That surprises me. I thought she was the one who kicked him out?”
“She did, but she still loves him. Don’t ask me why.”
“Is she going to take him back?”
“Not unless he can prove to her that he’s over his addiction to bottle tops. Anyway, the reason I dropped by was to check when you want to make a start on the training?”
“I’m not convinced there’s any point to it.”
“I thought you’d told Aubrey Chance that you’d give it a go?”
“I did, but it just seems like such a waste of time. No witch has ever been able to travel to Ghost Town.”
“Aubrey told me that there had been one.”
“He’s talking about Magna Mondale, and as far as I’m aware, that’s only a rumour.”
“You have to at least give it a try, or Aubrey is going to be on my back.”
“Okay, but I’m pretty busy at the moment. Lots of people are disappearing.”
“Maybe we could get together one evening. It needn’t take more than an hour or so.”
“Fair enough. Can I give you a call to set something up?”
“Sure. I’m free most evenings—that’s how sad my life is.”
***
“We’re just off, Jill.” Jules popped her head around my door.
“Where to?”
“To Ever. We told you this morning.”
“Oh, yeah. The Chameleon thingy. Hold on. I’m going to come with you. I’ll lock the office for half an hour.”
