Chocolate Wishes

by Trisha Ashley

  ‘I just called in to see Jake,’ he said, slightly self-consciously, since this wasn’t something he made a habit of. ‘That’s why I’m late.’

  ‘Ah…’ I said, ‘and I suppose you suggested that he spreads the word about Mann-Drake’s party?’

  ‘Well…sort of,’ he admitted.

  ‘Poppy’s just been telling me all about the meeting – that’s how I guessed – but I don’t want Jake to get into trouble.’

  ‘He won’t – I didn’t ask him to do anything,’ Felix said. ‘In fact, he said he knew someone at college with millions of Facebook friends, who couldn’t keep a secret, and he would have to be careful not to accidentally tell him anything about it.’

  ‘Right,’ I said, and though I was still angry over Mann-Drake’s attempt to draw my little brother into his orbit (he would have regretted it if he had), I said no more about it.

  ‘Great news about the plague pit, isn’t it?’ Felix said brightly.

  ‘Yes, wonderful. Grumps told me about it this morning and I don’t see how they could build there now, because the whole village would be up in arms.’

  ‘And what with that and the river being prone to flooding in winter at the tennis courts and one edge of the lido field, there’s not really a lot you could do with either of them, is there?’ he said.

  ‘Perhaps in the end the village will get them back again, one way or another,’ Poppy suggested optimistically.

  There was no sign of Mrs Snowball tonight, so Molly allowed us to have drinks other than coffee, and it was just another nice evening like we’ve so often had before…except that somehow the dynamics of our little trio was subtly changing, so that I was starting to feel sort of…lonely.

  I asked Jake when I got back what he intended to do about Felix’s suggestion and he smiled in a really mysterious and annoying way and said I should keep out of it, but that he’d just accidentally pressed ‘reply all’ when he emailed Kat about the party, so the news had gone to his entire contact list.

  Then he warned me that he’d heard weird chanting from the museum and a strange smell of incense was seeping under the adjoining door, so if I’d thought of popping in to see Zillah, right then probably wouldn’t be a good moment unless I went all the way round the front of the museum.

  However, Grumps’ coven had been meeting frequently to counter Mann-Drake’s threat, so I was quite used to it by now, even if the idea of a lot of old wrinklies standing hand in hand in a circle next door, starkers and chanting, did gross Jake out.

  By the time the Mango Homes people and Mann-Drake arrived at the lido field on Tuesday morning, Hebe had organised a reception committee of placard-wielding villagers, with Felix, Poppy and me among them. She and Raffy awaited them, flanked by a reporter and photographer from the local paper, ready primed.

  The placards said things like ‘Honour Our Dead!’, ‘Leave Our Ancestors in Peace!’ and ‘Sacrilege!’

  Mine read ‘Grave Concerns!’ I was quite pleased with that.

  Hebe buttonholed the property developers the moment they got out of their car and, in her terribly clear and carrying voice, told them all about the plague pit and the winter flooding, talking right over the top of all Mann-Drake’s attempts to interrupt.

  Then Raffy put his oar in and said that the whole village would like the lido field and the bodies of their ancestors left in peace and we all cheered.

  After that, it wasn’t surprising that the Mango Homes people didn’t stay long, because a new estate built on a plague pit was never going to be easy to market, Pustule Place and Bubo Bank not having quite the right ring, especially since the river edge of it would have to be mounted on stilts.

  Mann-Drake, however, switched tack and tried sweet-talking his way around everyone but, finding it wasn’t working, was eventually driven away too, by a languid and leached young man who was either his PA or acolyte, or possibly a strange hybrid of the two.

  Hebe and some of the villagers went on to Merchester to picket the Town Hall, with the reporters in close attendance, but Felix, Poppy and I had to get back to do some work, and Raffy apparently had a big annual church council meeting to go to, because he dashed off as well.

  The coverage in the local papers on Thursday was wonderful (‘A plague on you – Sticklepond wants its dead kept buried!’) and was syndicated to a national daily.

  There were lots of great photos, including one of Hebe Winter and Raffy (‘Sticklepond’s ex-pop star vicar!’), and a long shot of the protesters including me and my placard, with all the feathery fronds of my hair blown upright into a Mohican.

  The papers had also dug a few stories out about Mann-Drake, hinting at dark deeds and secret societies, and somehow managing to suggest that his house in Devon was burned down by a firebrand-waving mob of locals, but without actually coming out and directly saying so.

  There was an interview with local bookseller and antiquarian Felix Hemmings on the historical importance of the Plague Pit Field, which I knew about, but also, to my surprise, one with novelist Gregory Warlock.

  He gave his books and the museum’s imminent opening a good plug, and then pointed out the harmless – and frequently benign – effects of magic down the centuries, as opposed to the pernicious nonsense of pseudo-magical mountebanks like Crowley and Mann-Drake. He was also quoted as saying that magic, when properly practised, could happily marry with a Christian way of life, which I can only put down to Raffy’s influence. All those visits must be paying off!

  Grumps has an amazingly good eye for publicity, though according to Zillah he might have got a trifle carried away by his enthusiasm, and led the reporters to believe that some kind of semi-satanic orgy was to take place at Badger’s Bolt on Saturday night…

  In a moment of compunction I phoned David up early on the Saturday morning to suggest that he cry off Mann-Drake’s party, though since I couldn’t really say why, he just thought I was jealous again. I might as well have saved myself the trouble.

  Jake went to Kat’s house early in the evening, where they would have a ringside seat, since the side gate faced onto the lane that led to Badger’s Bolt.

  He phoned when the dinner guests arrived, including David with Mel Christopher, and said several very strange people were already staying at the cottage.

  ‘I’ll tell you what happens in the morning,’ he said, then rang off, before I could tell him not to leave Kat’s parents’ house that evening, though they seemed very sensible people.

  The village was really quiet for ages after that, until suddenly there seemed to be a huge number of vehicles making their way through the narrow streets. Then later, just as I was falling sleep, I could hear sirens in the distance…

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Party Animals

  ‘When loads of people started to turn up, me and Kat went out for a look,’ Jake said when he returned next morning. ‘There were cars right up the lane and parked along the road for miles.’

  I was glad I hadn’t known that the night before, because I would have been worried about him! ‘You didn’t get too close, did you?’

  ‘No, we just stood back and watched as people burst into the cottage and started partying. Mann-Drake and his guests were in the barn by then, but he must have heard the noise because he came out, saw what was happening, then ran back inside. Then some of the revellers got into the barn the back way and suddenly he and his guests all came running out of the front, half naked. It was the funniest thing! There were reporters and a local TV crew there by then, and they got the full-frontal effect.’

  ‘They were half naked?’ I repeated.

  ‘Well, they all had thin, wrap-around silk robes on, but it was clear there was nothing underneath, because it was a pretty breezy evening,’ he said, with a reminiscent grin.

  ‘Didn’t the police try and stop it? I heard sirens.’

  ‘A load of police cars arrived, but that was latish, after we’d gone back to Kat’s house. Your friend David and some of his mates rang
the doorbell and wanted to come in, but Kat’s mum wouldn’t let them any further than the driveway, because they were barefoot and in robes and looked as if they were out of their heads on something.’

  ‘How awful! But you can’t blame her, can you? What did they do?’

  He shrugged. ‘There was nothing they could do, except hang about until the police got rid of the gatecrashers, which took quite a while, and then they all went back to the cottage. Most of the cars had gone from the lane this morning, so I presume they got home in the end.’

  ‘So it’s all quiet again now?’

  ‘Yes, though the cottage has been well and truly trashed. I saw that policeman, Mike Berry, on my way back this morning and he told me. Mann-Drake had to spend the night in a hotel, so let’s hope he found some clothes, first.’

  The whole village was abuzz with the news and Mann-Drake’s party not only made the newspapers, but also got onto local TV – a brief shot of the guests running from the barn, including Mel and David, their thin silk robes clutched about them, eyes wide. The cameraman had rather focused on Mel…

  Apparently the damage to the interior of the cottage was so bad that the renovations were all to do again. It was to be hoped that Mann-Drake’s house and contents insurance covered damage by uninvited and mainly off-their-heads visitors, though it didn’t sound as if his guests were in a much better state.

  Oh, David, I thought, what have you been up to?

  I met Felix and Poppy in the pub right after the Parish Council met to discuss it.

  ‘I feel a bit deafened,’ Poppy said, sinking into her seat with a sigh of relief. ‘The meeting was in the vestry because the drain problems were being fixed at the village hall, and Mr Lees played fugues on the organ really loudly all the way through!’

  ‘That up-tempo version of “The Girl from Ipanema” as we were leaving was a bit of a turn-up for the books, though,’ Felix said.

  ‘He does seem to be lightening up sometimes,’ Poppy agreed. ‘Look at the Beatles medley he played after the protest meeting in the village hall! It must be Raffy’s influence.’

  ‘Did you see the TV coverage of Mann-Drake’s party?’ I asked.

  ‘Or un-coverage, in Mel Christopher’s case,’ Felix said with an unbecoming smirk, and I gave him a look.

  ‘Mike said he had to wait for reinforcements before trying to get rid of the gatecrashers and it was only much later, when the guests could get back into the house, that they found several items including their wallets, were missing.’

  ‘Yes, I heard a bit through Jake. He and Kat watched most of it happening and David and Mel tried to take refuge at Kat’s parents’ house, only her mother didn’t like the look of them and wouldn’t let them in.’

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ said Poppy. ‘I heard the cottage was such a mess that Mr Mann-Drake and his chums had to spend the night in a hotel, and they left for London this morning.’

  ‘Let’s hope he doesn’t come back,’ I said.

  ‘That’s what Hebe Winter said. She hoped his failure to extort money from the householders on the Green or make a killing from property developers, combined with having his home wrecked, would give him a distaste for Sticklepond.’

  ‘I should think it might well!’

  ‘She’s got one or two more tricks up her sleeve if he comes back,’ Felix said. ‘The water supply to Badger’s Bolt is from a spring and the pressure isn’t good, but it used to be even worse until the last owner illegally diverted a stream into it. Now the Winters have discovered the original plans for a Victorian water garden on the estate just where the spring that feeds that stream surfaces and have decided to restore it, so I’m afraid the supply at Badger’s Bolt will soon be a trickle again.’

  ‘When Mann-Drake called in at the cottage to look at the damage in daylight before he went back to London, Mr Ormerod – the farmer next door, whose son was invited to the party – had a slight accident with his slurry spreader and the whole front of the cottage was sprayed with it,’ Poppy said.

  ‘You can’t blame him for being mad,’ Felix said, grinning. ‘Several fences were broken down last night too, and some cattle got out onto the road.’

  ‘What happened about the slurry?’ I asked.

  ‘Sluiced off with a water tanker later,’ he said. ‘But the smell lingers: muck sticks!’

  Grumps was collected for the next Re-enactment Society meeting by Laurence Yatton and his sister, Effie, and brought back by Hebe Winter herself, in her white Mini.

  I can’t imagine how she can get behind the steering wheel in a farthingale, unless perhaps she has a hooped petticoat that she slips on once she arrives. But it would be lèsemajesté to enquire.

  Grumps was in very good humour and seemed quite convinced that Mann-Drake was well on the way to being repelled, though he put that down almost entirely to the efforts of himself and his coven.

  When you live with someone with a sense of humour like Jake’s, you wake up on April Fool’s day with the certain knowledge that at some point he will fool, surprise or amaze you – or even frighten you half to death.

  This year he’d outdone himself, because when I opened my eyes there was the most enormous spider sitting on the pillow by my cheek. Being still half awake, I gave a bloodcurdling yell and leaped out of bed.

  The scream didn’t wake Jake up but I did, by shaking him ruthlessly. ‘How could you do that? I nearly died when I saw that huge spider!’

  ‘Realistic, isn’t it?’ he said, with a sleepy grin.

  ‘Very – but did you have to put it on my pillow? I could have had a heart attack.’

  ‘I didn’t put it on your pillow,’ he said, looking at me as if I was mad.

  ‘Yes you did!’

  ‘You’ve been having a nightmare – mine’s in the bath.’

  I wasn’t sure I believed him, but when I checked there was a huge rubber spider sitting in the bath, so I made him get up and look in my bedroom, but of course by then there was no sign of the first one.

  He was just saying, ‘There you are, I told you you imagined it,’ when out it sidled from a fold of duvet. It was big enough to saddle.

  Of course I screamed again and ran out, but when Jake asked me a minute later to open the bathroom window I did, then watched from a safe distance as he tossed the invader out.

  ‘I don’t know how you can touch them with your bare hands,’ I said with a shudder. ‘Now, remove the one from the bath, too!’

  He was hoping to catch Kat out with it later, and I only hoped she gave him hell when he did.

  Easter was rushing towards us – and so was the opening day of the museum. The Easter period is generally a time of big celebrations with Grumps anyway, because he says it’s really all about the Saxon fertility goddess, Eostre, and that’s where the rabbits and eggs come in, too. One of the pamphlets he’d written for the museum dealt with the subject and of course it formed part of the display showing the overlap of Christian and pagan festivals.

  That afternoon, just as I was about to go through into the museum to help Grumps, David knocked at the cottage door, all repentant and shame-faced.

  ‘Hello, Chloe. Can I come in?’ he asked humbly. ‘I’ve come to say I’m sorry I didn’t listen to your advice about the party, and made such a fool of myself.’

  He looked so miserable that I had to let him in, though I was finding it hard to keep my face straight, after all that media coverage.

  ‘That picture of you running out of the barn with Mel made most of the dailies as well as the local paper and TV. It must have been a quiet night for other stories,’ I commiserated.

  ‘You can’t imagine how hideously embarrassing it’s been – and still is, Chloe! I don’t know how…I mean, I’m not excusing anything, but I’m positive there was something in the drink we had after dinner, before we went to the barn for the ceremony. Then Mann-Drake passed another large cup of something round and we were all supposed to drink from it in turn. We shared one of those Far Eastern pip
e things, too.’

  ‘Like a hubble-bubble?’ I said helpfully.

  ‘My memories of what happened immediately after that are a bit hazy, but by the time the gatecrashers arrived, things were getting a bit…’ He petered out, flushing.

  ‘Uninhibited?’ I suggested.

  ‘Well, yes, I suppose so,’ he admitted. ‘But as soon as I got out in the cold air, my head cleared and I felt stupid without my clothes. Mel persuaded me to put the robe on,’ he added resentfully, ‘and then when we could finally get back in the cottage, my wallet had vanished and all our clothes had been piled up in the middle of one room and…rendered unwearable.’

  ‘You mean they peed on them?’ I asked incredulously, not having heard about that.

  ‘We needn’t go into it,’ he said hastily. ‘My car keys were still there, fortunately, so we could get home. It’s lucky for me that Mel came out much clearer in the pictures than I did. They seemed to focus on her.’

  ‘Didn’t they just!’

  ‘Only a handful of people have recognised me – but that’s enough! Rumours have got about and people are talking.’

  ‘It’ll all die down soon,’ I said soothingly. ‘If anyone mentions it, deny it’s you.’

  ‘I already have. But I just wanted to ask you to forgive me for being so stupid and to tell you that I’ve learned my lesson. I’m obviously running with the wrong crowd these days and if I’d listened to you, none of this would have happened.’

  ‘But of course I forgive you – there’s nothing to forgive,’ I said lightly. ‘And I’m sure you’ll make it up with Mel too.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ he said shortly, so clearly she had spectacularly fallen out of favour, though I wouldn’t bet on her not being able to win him back round, if she wanted to.