Witch Is How Dreams Became Reality (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 32)

by Adele Abbott

  “Thanks.”

  “And I believe you’re partial to custard creams?”

  “That’s just a wicked rumour.” I grinned.

  “I hope not because I had some brought in specially for you.”

  “In that case, it would be rude not to eat at least a couple.”

  Two hours later, and I was still sitting outside the Wrongacre dormitory. For the first hour or so, I’d heard kids’ voices from inside the dorm, but it was now deathly quiet.

  I’d finished my second cup of coffee and was beginning to think the reports about Old Mother Mason might be true because someone had eaten almost half a packet of custard creams.

  Or maybe that was down to me.

  It was kind of creepy sitting there all alone. Yes, I do realise how ridiculous that must sound, coming from someone who routinely interacts with ghosts and all manner of supernatural creatures, but it was true, nonetheless. It was the anticipation that got to me. The waiting for something to happen, for something to make me jump.

  “What the?” I almost fell off my chair when someone ran a bony finger across my scalp.

  Yuk! And double yuk!

  I looked up to see the ghostly shape of an old woman who appeared to be standing on the ceiling. Her face, which was even more wrinkled than Grandma’s, was only inches from mine.

  “What are you doing down there?” she asked in a croaky voice.

  “More to the point, why are you standing on the ceiling?”

  “I find it helps me to think.”

  “This is giving me a crick in my neck. Do you think you could come down here, please?”

  “If I must.” She did a weird kind of somersault and landed at my side.

  “Thanks. I assume you’re Old Mother Mason?”

  “Less of the old, cheeky madam.”

  “Sorry, but you are Mrs Mason, aren’t you?”

  “Molly Mason at your service. And who would you be? You’re too old to be one of the pupils. Are you a teacher?”

  “No, well yeah, but only part-time.”

  “How come you can see me, anyway? I didn’t attach myself to you.”

  “It’s just something I’m able to do. I’m able to travel to Ghost Town, too.”

  “I won’t have any truck with that place. Went there once, and I didn’t think much of it.”

  “Where do you live?”

  “Right here of course.”

  “But I was told you hadn’t been seen for years until recently.”

  “That’s because I normally keep myself to myself down in the cellar. There are too many noisy children up here for my liking.”

  “What made you change your mind and come up here again?”

  “I’m looking for my dog, Rocky.”

  “Where is he?”

  “You’re not very bright, are you? If I knew where he was, I wouldn’t be looking for him, would I? I left the cellar door open, and when I woke up the next morning, he’d gone. I’ve been trying to find him ever since.”

  “This dog of yours, is he—err—?” I hesitated.

  “Is he what?”

  “You know. Dead? A ghost?”

  “I would jolly well hope so. He’s been by my side for a couple of centuries now.”

  “The problem is that you’ve been scaring some of the children.”

  “Why would they be scared of Molly Mason?”

  I resisted the urge to ask if she’d looked in a mirror recently. “You know what kids are like.”

  “I can’t help that. I have to find Rocky.”

  “How about I try to find him for you?”

  “Why would you do that? I don’t have any money.”

  “You wouldn’t have to pay me, but I would need you to stay in the cellar until I find him.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “I don’t know. Is he wearing a nametag?”

  “He is.”

  “That ought to make things a little easier. I’ll look for him, but you have to promise to stay out of sight until I find him.”

  “Can’t I help you to look?”

  “No, just stay in the cellar.”

  ***

  Jack hadn’t moved from the spot where I’d left him.

  “I’m back.”

  “That never gets any less weird. How did you get on?”

  “Okay, but now I have to try and find a ghost dog named Rocky.”

  “I’m going to make a cup of tea. Would you like one?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “And custard creams, I suppose?”

  “Err—”

  I can hear you lot tutting. Okay, okay, you’ve guilt-tripped me out of it.

  “Err, no thanks. Just the tea.”

  “What are you doing, Jill?” Jack said, after we’d taken our tea through to the lounge.

  “Nothing.”

  “Yes, you were. You were pretending to drive a car.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “You were definitely pretending to steer a car. What was that all about?”

  “I was just thinking it would be nice to have a new car.”

  “We’ve discussed that. We can’t afford it just yet.”

  “We’ll see.” I went back to ‘steering’ my Jag. I couldn’t wait to see Jack’s face when he found out what I’d won.

  Chapter 19

  The next morning when I arrived at work, I heard the most awful noise. It appeared to be coming from my offices, and it sounded as though someone was being strangled. My first thought was that a disgruntled client might be attacking Mrs V, so I took the stairs two at a time and burst into the outer office.

  “Jill, you scared me to death.” Mrs V was standing behind her desk.

  “Where are they?” I glanced around the office.

  “Where’s who?”

  “I thought I heard—never mind.”

  “Last night was magnificent, Jill.”

  “What was?”

  “The concert of course. Don’t you remember I told you I was going?”

  “Oh yeah. Brian—err—Tiger?”

  “Brian Lion. It was the best concert I’ve ever seen. He sang all the old favourites: The Carrots Are Lonely Now, My Caravan Knows Secrets and for his encore, he sang his new release called Only My Gnome Knows. It brought tears to my eyes.”

  “I can imagine. Were you by any chance singing one of his hits just now?”

  “I was, yes, until you came bursting through the door and scared me to death. Why were you in such a hurry?”

  “No reason. Just part of my new keep-fit regime.”

  Winky was lying on a blue exercise mat, stretching his legs in the air.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like?”

  “It looks a bit like you’re doing yoga.”

  “To the untrained eye, maybe, but this is Pilates.”

  “Since when did you do Pilates?”

  “Since forever. You don’t get to have a body like this without plenty of exercise.”

  “How come I’ve never seen you do it before?”

  “I’ve normally finished before you’re even out of bed, but I’m running late this morning.” He jumped to his feet. “I’m done now. You should give it a try.”

  “No thanks. I get all the exercise I need.”

  “Lifting muffins?”

  “I’ll have you know I just ran up the stairs.”

  “I can tell. You’re as red as a beetroot.”

  “Rubbish.”

  “Now you’re here, I wish to register a complaint.”

  “What is it now?”

  “The old bag lady. She’s been singing ever since she arrived. Of course, I use the term singing in the loosest sense of the word. Something about a caravan and a gnome.”

  “Those are the greatest hits of Brian Lion.”

  “Who?”

  “Apparently, he’s very big with the yarnies. Mrs V went to see him in concert last night.”

  “That’s no reason t
o subject me to her warbling. Can’t you have a word with her?”

  “I think she’s got it out of her system now. Anyway, how come you were running late this morning? Heavy night?”

  “I was helping to look for Gavin the Grub and Bobby the Brew until the early hours.”

  “Any joy?”

  “None. They seem to have disappeared into thin air. Any word on Bruiser and Lovely?”

  “As far as I know, they’re still missing too.”

  “Something’s definitely afoot in my opinion, but you don’t seem to be doing much about it.”

  “I’ve already told you. I don’t have time to look for a few missing cats.”

  “Typical. It’s just me, me, me, with you, isn’t it?”

  “That’s not fair. I’m just crazy busy.”

  “Hmm. Have you found out what you’ve won on the lottery?”

  “Not for sure, but I have an idea of what it might be.”

  “Go on, then. I’m all ears.”

  “I’ll give you a clue.” I began to steer my imaginary car.

  “A year’s supply of wool?”

  “How on earth did you get wool from that?”

  “That’s what the old bag lady does with her hands when she’s winding her wool.”

  “No, it’s not wool. Something much better.”

  “A divining rod?”

  “What?”

  “It looked as though you were searching for water.”

  “I was steering a car!”

  “Really? I’d never have guessed. So, what have you won? A rally driving weekend?”

  “No. I’ve won a car.”

  “In your dreams.” He scoffed.

  “I’m telling you. I was at the council offices when it was delivered: A brand-new Jag.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. I saw it with my own eyes, and when I asked the security guard about it, he said it was related to Saturday, which is the day the prizes are presented.”

  “Wow! You owe me big time. If I hadn’t found that ticket, you’d have been stuffed. What do I get?”

  “You said you didn’t want anything, but I think it’s only fair I show my gratitude, so I’m going to double your salmon allowance for the next month.”

  “Three months. That’s only fair.”

  “Okay, three months it is.”

  ***

  I wanted to have another word with Laurence Forrest’s neighbour, Arthur Radford. If I could get him to admit that he’d lied about seeing Laurence returning early, maybe that would be enough to get the police to look for other possible suspects.

  I’d just stepped out of the office when I got a phone call from Peter.

  “Jill, are you in Washbridge?”

  “Yeah. I’ve just left the office.”

  “Could you pop into the shop, to check that Kathy is okay?”

  “Why, what’s wrong?”

  “There was an incident when she took the kids to school this morning. Someone tried to snatch her handbag.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “She says so, but I’d feel a lot better if you made sure. I’d go over there myself, but I’m out of town and it would take me an hour to get back.”

  “I’ll go straight down there now.”

  “Will you call me to let me know if she’s alright or if I need to come over?”

  “Of course. Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

  Although I’d done my best to reassure Peter, I was still apprehensive about what I might find when I got to the shop. I knew my sister—she would have said she was okay whether she was or not.

  “Jill?” Kathy was tinkering with the window display. “Are you alright? You look like you’re about to collapse.”

  “I ran all the way down here.”

  “Why?”

  “Peter called me. He told me about the incident at school.”

  “I told him I was okay. He shouldn’t have bothered you with it.”

  “Are you sure you’re alright?”

  “Better than you by the look of it. Do you want a cup of tea?”

  “Please.”

  While Kathy was in the back, making the drinks, I gave Peter a quick call to put his mind at rest.

  “Thanks.” I took a sip of tea. “What happened at school?”

  “It must have been the same man who snatched Adriana’s bag.”

  “I thought the police had put on extra patrols?”

  “They were supposed to, but there was no sign of them this morning.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “No, but I reckon I hurt him. I clobbered him around the head with my handbag, and you know how much stuff I have in there. He turned tail and took off.”

  “Did it upset the kids?”

  “Luckily, they’d already gone inside so they didn’t see anything. I was just walking back to the car when he jumped out at me.”

  “Did you get a good look at him?”

  “Not really. It all happened so quickly, and he was wearing a hat pulled down over his face. I do have a video, though.”

  “I’m surprised you had the presence of mind to do that.”

  “I didn’t. One of the other mothers saw what was happening and recorded it on her phone. She sent copies to me and the police.”

  “Can I see it?”

  “Sure. It’s a bit shaky and you only get to see him from the back as he hobbles away.”

  “Hobbles? Just how hard did you hit him?”

  “Not hard enough to cause that. I reckon he must have a gammy leg.” She took out her phone. “Watch.”

  Just as Kathy had said, the video was very short and jumped all over the place. Whoever had taken it had clearly had a shaky hand. The man was already halfway down the road before the video started, and the last sighting of him was when he took a right down a side street.

  “How long did it take for the police to arrive?”

  “They didn’t. At least not while I was still there. I’m expecting them to get in touch sometime today.”

  “Can I see the video again?”

  “Here.” She handed me the phone. “I need to get this window finished.”

  I played the short clip several times more.

  “Do you see what I mean about the hobbling?” Kathy said while she adjusted the hem on a dress.

  “Yeah, I do.” Although I didn’t say anything to Kathy, it was the man’s gait that I was studying. If I wasn’t mistaken, he wasn’t so much hobbling away as hopping. “Is it okay if I send a copy of this to my phone?”

  “Be my guest.”

  “I should get going. Oh, by the way, Kathy. How’s that new car of yours?”

  “Fantastic. I love her.”

  “Don’t you find it a little on the small side?”

  “Not really. It’s perfectly big enough.”

  “Haven’t you ever fancied something a bit bigger? Something a bit more upmarket? A Jag for example?”

  “We can’t afford a Jag. What’s this all about, Jill?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re up to something. I can tell. What is it?”

  “I’d like to tell you, but I’m sworn to secrecy. You’ll find out on Saturday.”

  “Isn’t that when you find out what you’ve won in the lottery? Is it a car? Have you won a Jag?”

  “I couldn’t possibly comment.”

  ***

  I’d been knocking on Arthur Radford’s door for the best part of five minutes, but either he wasn’t in, or his hearing aid was on the blink. Either way, the trip had been a bust.

  I was just about to set off down the stairs when someone called to me.

  “Excuse me, young lady.” It was the elderly woman who I’d spoken to on my last visit. “Are you looking for Arthur again?”

  “I am, yes.” I walked over to her. “You don’t happen to know where he is, do you?”

  “I saw him go out about half-an-hour ago. He’s probably gone down the bookies. He goes there mo
st mornings.”

  “Is he a bit of a gambler?”

  “I don’t think so. He just goes there for the free drinks. Plus, it saves him money on heating. Talking of drinks, I was just going to make a cup of tea. Would you care to join me?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “I don’t get many visitors.” She handed me the cup. “Here, help yourself to a biscuit.”

  I took one look inside the biscuit barrel, but then gracefully declined. When would people realise that mixing biscuits together like that was simply wrong?

  “Do you have family, err—Sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

  “Louise Roach. Call me Lou, everyone does.”

  “I’m Jill. Do you have family, Lou?”

  “I have a daughter and a couple of grandkids, but they live down south, so I only get to see them a few times a year. How’s young Laurence doing? Have you heard?”

  “I visited him yesterday. He’s having a tough time of it.”

  “Poor man. It’s not right what they’ve done to him.”

  “That’s why I was hoping to talk to your neighbour again. His testimony is one of the main reasons that Laurence has been charged with murder. I wanted to ask him if he was sure of what he’d seen.” Despite the hot tea, I was beginning to feel quite chilly. “Aren’t you cold in here, Vi?”

  “Frozen to the marrow, love.”

  “Can’t you claim any allowances for the heating?”

  “It’s not the money. I can pay my way. It’s the boiler—the thing has been on the blink for ages.”

  “Have you called the landlord?”

  “I spoke to the maintenance man who came to Laurence’s flat a few weeks ago, but he wasn’t interested. In fact, he was really offhanded with me. He seemed really angry about something—I think Laurence or Alison must have upset him.”

  “Couldn’t you give the landlord a ring?”

  “I’m not very good on the phone. In the old days you could speak to a real person. Nowadays, it’s all press one for this, and two for that. It’s beyond me.”

  “Would you like me to give them a call for you?”

  “Would you, love? That’d be really kind.”

  “If you give me your landlord’s number, I’ll call them for you now.”

  She went over to the sideboard, rummaged through the drawers, and came back with a sheet of paper. “All the information is on there.”