by Sam Short
"Boris is recovering," Willow said quickly. "That's why Granny's taken him indoors."
Mum narrowed her eyes. "Recovering?"
Willow nodded. "That man who came last night to do acupuncture really helped Granny with her back pain."
"Not her spells though," I added.
"No, not her dementia," continued Willow. "He offered to do some acupuncture on Boris – he was limping after the lawnmower incident."
"Acupuncture on a goat?" said Mum, frowning. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely," said Willow. "Granny just wants him to be comfortable after his ordeal. She feels guilty, so she brought him indoors."
Mum sat down at the table with us. "She should feel guilty. That poor goat. It does explain why Susie and I saw him wobbling through the woods though. Poor thing. I still think I should drive over there and check on her."
"I was going to ask if I could borrow your car for the rest of the day," I said. "We need to go back to Granny's... Willow left her..."
"I left my phone there," said Willow, pushing her phone deeper into her pocket. "We'll make sure she's okay."
Mum shook her head slowly and sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. Her disappointed face. "I knew you'd regret buying that boat with your inheritance. Don't you feel silly now? Having to borrow my car when you could have bought two of your own?"
"I don't regret it," I said. "I don't want a car."
"You could have fooled me," said Mum. She turned to look at Willow. "Treat this as a lesson, Willow. When you reach twenty-one and get your money, don't go spending it on something as ridiculous as your sister did. Use it wisely."
Willow's face reddened. "I don't think she wasted it, and neither does Granny — and it was her husband's money. Penelope owns a business, and she's happy. How can that be a waste?"
Mum sighed, ignoring Willow's spirited interjection. "I just think you could have got a real job Penelope." She gazed across the table at Susie with a big smile on her face. "Like Susie has. She makes a difference to people's lives when they read her stories. Did she tell you she's sold a story about the murder to The Herald? That's something to be proud of."
"No I haven't told them yet, Maggie," said Susie. "I was just about to when you came in."
"Susie couldn't wait to tell me when she got here," said Mum, "and I don't blame her. What a stroke of genius she had for the title of the story." She patted Susie on the hand. "Tell them, sweetheart."
Susie gave me a pained expression. I gave her a smile. "Go on," I said. "I'd love to know."
"It's not as brilliant as your mum is making out," said Susie. "I've called it Murder under Lock and Key."
Mum let out a low whistle of admiration. "Because Sam was murdered and his body was found below the Lock and Key pub, the term lock and key can also mean somethi — "
"We get it, Mum," said Willow. "Well done, Susie!"
"It's a shame that a man being murdered was the break I needed to sell a big story," said Susie.
"That's life," said Mum. "Anyway, you can use my car again, girls. I'll go to the haven to visit Aunt Eva and pick up some ingredients for a lasagne. Tell my mother I'll pop over and see her tomorrow."
"We will," I said, "and tell Aunt Eva we said hello."
Chapter Nine
"Not you two again," said Granny as we walked into her kitchen. She'd reverted to leaving the front door unlocked again, and everything seemed normal, apart from the fact that somewhere on her property was a talking goat. Granny was studying a recipe book, and closed it as we sat at the table next to her. "Two visits in one day, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Where's Boris?" said Willow.
"He's in the lounge watching TV. Antiques Roadshow was on when I left him, he's relaxing a little before his bath."
"You're bathing him?" said Willow.
"It's either that or he lives in the garden. He's very cultured, but he does stink a little."
"That's nice," said Willow sarcastically. "Magic his mind into the body of a goat, and then threaten him with living in the garden. How very tolerant of you."
Granny shrugged. "He knows he smells. I've seen him sniffing his leg pits. He'll be happier when he smells of lavender bubble bath." Granny wrinkled her forehead into a frown. "Anyway, what are you two doing back here? Something tells me you haven't come to check on me and Boris."
I looked at Willow, and she gave me an almost imperceptible nod. She wanted me to ask Granny. I licked my lips. "It's simple," I said, "we haven't told Mum about what you did to Boris, and it will remain that way if you agree to help us."
Granny's frown deepened. "I don't like where this is going," she said. "This is the sort of thing people say in films before they blackmail somebody. You'd better not try and blackmail me, because if you do, my wrath will be swift and — "
"Fearsome," interrupted Willow. "Yes. We know. But not as fearsome as Mum's wrath will be if she finds out what you did to Charleston Huang, and imagine what your friends in the haven would say when the word got around. You'll be a laughing stock when you finally remember your entry spell."
Granny scrunched up her face and prepared to click her fingers. "Think about it before you cast it," I warned. "You're already hiding a talking goat, and you don't want to be responsible for something bad happening to me and Willow, do you? Mum would never forgive you."
Granny sighed and lowered her hand, sparks still arcing between her fingertips. "What help do you need that requires these levels of manipulation?"
"We need your spell book," I said.
"You can kiss my wrinkly old a — ”
"Or we'll tell Mum about Boris," threatened Willow.
Granny nibbled her bottom lip. "Why do you want my spell book?"
"We want to help find out who killed Sam Hedgewick," I said.
"And help Barney," Willow said. "He was in charge of finding out who was threatening Sam."
"And Sam died on his watch," pondered Granny, "add that to the fact that you've got a thing for him, Penelope, and I can begin to see why you think my magic can help you."
"I don't have a thing for Barn — ”
Granny waved me quiet. "How exactly do you think my spell book can help?"
"We need to get information out of somebody," I said. "The lawyer you said Sam had been in to see. He's got information that could help Barney, but he's not talking — client confidentiality, apparently."
Granny nodded. "And you want to make him sing like a canary."
"Something like that," said Willow.
Granny closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I can't give you that book," she said, snapping her eyes open. "You two don't have the experience to use the spells."
Willow spoke slowly and clearly, moving her face closer to Granny's. "Imagine if Mum ever did find out about Boris... but then you told her you'd been helping us learn more magic. Just picture how happy she'd be that you were helping us to ascend to the haven. She'd forget about Boris in an instant."
Granny closed her eyes again briefly. "I'll do it, but I'll only show you how to use one spell. You girls will have to work out the rest of them yourselves, and you must promise that no one will be turned into a toad."
"That spell's in the book?" said Willow.
"There's better than that in there," she said. "I compiled that book using old spells from the haven when I had that... funny few months."
"When you became a survivalist?" I said.
"I prefer the term prepper," said Granny. "There was a lot of friction in the haven at the time, the voodoo witches from Haiti were fighting with the Scottish witches, and I was afraid it would spill into this world. I wanted to protect my family. You two included. It went to my head a little, that's all."
"It took a long time to eat all those tins of food in your cellar afterwards, didn't it Granny?” said Willow.
Granny stood up. "Yes. I'll never look at another tin of corned beef again. Or peaches." She shook her head. "I don't like to talk about those days. I'll go to
the cellar and get that book for you on one condition."
"Yes?" said Willow.
"The old tin bath I used to use for your mother and uncle is tucked away in the back of the pantry. Get it out and fill it with hot water and bubble bath. You can help me bath Boris, and then I'll teach you how to cast one of my spells."
Boris stepped calmly into the bath. "It's not as if I'm undressed, is it?" he said, "because I don't want any of you to get the idea that I'd normally allow myself to be bathed by three members of the opposite sex. My days in Oxford were heady, but even then, I never came close to doing anything like that."
"Just enjoy it" said Granny. "I've used lavender bubble bath. It's calming."
"I've never felt calmer," said Boris. He lowered himself to his knees in the suds. "Help me onto my back, would you?"
Willow and Granny helped flip him over, and I placed a rolled-up towel under the back of his head to protect him from the thin rim of the bath. Only his four outstretched legs and his horned head were visible above the bubbles as he settled down, and he closed his eyes as we began massaging his matted white hair.
"You seem very natural as a goat," said Willow. "You're taking it all very well."
"Willow," said Granny. "We treat Boris as if he has always been a goat. He's trans-species. It's transphobic and intolerant of you to allude to his time as a human. Boris wants to be a goat, and we will afford him that courtesy."
"Calm down, Gladys," said Boris. "I'm really not offended. Why don't you go and sit in the lounge and let me get to know your grandchildren? You deserve a rest. You must be aching after chopping all that wood."
"I do deserve a rest, don't I?" said Granny, her knees clicking as she stood up. "Make sure his head doesn't slip under the water, girls, and just shout if you need anything, Boris. I found another bottle of brandy in the cellar alongside the spell book and an old tin of corned beef, just let me know when you're ready for a dram or two."
"She's a wonderful woman," said Boris, when Granny had left the kitchen. "But she seems very preoccupied with race and suchlike. I've heard her call three people on the TV racist today, and she refused to join me in watching Antiques Roadshow because somebody brought in an old Aboriginal boomerang to be valued. She began ranting about colonialism and cultural appropriation. It was quite unnerving."
I lowered my voice — Granny still had very good hearing. "She used to be an SJW," I said. "She's still holding on to some of the values."
"A social justice warrior?" said Boris. "How interesting."
"No," said Willow. "Not a social justice warrior. It was far worse than that. She was a social justice witch."
"My interest is piqued," said Boris, sighing as Willow applied shampoo to his head. "Tell me more."
"Has she told you about the haven?" I said.
"Oh yes, and it sounds such a magical and lovely place."
I passed Willow a loofah which she used to scrub behind the goat's ears. "It's not always lovely there," I said, "there's witches and warlocks in the haven from all parts of this world, and they don't always see eye-to-eye."
"Especially the Copper Haired Wizard of the west," said Willow. "Mum and Granny say he's always stirring up unrest."
"He sounds fabulous," said Boris.
"He is to his followers," I said, "but a few years ago, he decided he wanted to deport all the Haitian voodoo witches from his lands."
"And then conjure up a wall of spells around their lands to keep them inside," added Willow.
"Fascinating," murmured Boris, his rear left leg twitching as I scrubbed it.
I continued. "A few of the witches, including Granny, wanted to help the Haitians. They decided that the Copper Haired Wizard was evil, and set about defending the rights of the voodoo witches. Granny picked up a few tips from the protestors she saw on the news in this world, and before Mum and my Aunt Eva could stop her, she was the leader of a group called the Social Justice Witches."
"The group got carried away," said Willow. "When the Copper Haired Wizard capitulated to the SJW's and agreed to tear down the wall, they turned their attention to gay and lesbian witch rights, and it spiralled out of control from there."
"Your grandmother sounds like a real firebrand," said Boris.
"Oh, she is," I said. "Too much for the haven though. When she burnt down a centuries old magical rose bush, claiming that women who made love potions from the petals were demeaning themselves by needing the forced affection of a man, Maeve banished her from the haven for a year. Her blue hair is the only physical reminder of the time, but if you look closely at her nose, you can still see where her piercings went."
"I knew she was a vibrant woman when I arrived yesterday," said Boris. "Although I had no idea just how vibrant." Boris went suddenly rigid, and spun his head towards the kitchen widow, his ears splashing water across the floor, and his curled horns barely missing my fingers. "There's a car coming through the gates. Are we expecting company?"
"No," said Willow, standing up to look through the window. "It's a police car," she said, craning her neck. "It's Barney and Sergeant Cooper."
Granny came running into the kitchen, flapping her arms around her head and making loud panting sounds. "It's the feds! They must know Charleston's gone missing! I can't spend one more night in the big house – I'll be someone's bitch within the hour! If they find his car, or him in the guest bed, it's all over for me!"
"Granny," I said grabbing her wrist. "Calm down, they're probably here because Barney admitted to Sergeant Cooper that you have a better description of that badboy.”
"Boris," said Granny, snatching her wrist from my grip. "You won't give the game away, will you? You'll stay in character as a goat?"
"Gladys," said Boris, blowing bubbles from his nostrils. "You have my word. Although I can assure you that no one knew I was coming here, and I have nobody in my life who would have even noticed I'd vanished."
Granny breathed more easily. "Well, I'm torching your car as soon as I get the chance! I can't have that sort of evidence right next to my cottage!"
"We can't let them see Boris in the bath," said Willow. "It's not normal!"
"Of course it's normal," said Granny. "He's just a goat and we're bathing him. I'm sure they've seen far more interesting things in their line of work. Anyway, I'm not inviting them in unless they show me a warrant. They can conduct their business on my doorstep."
"Penelope," said Boris, as Granny scampered off to open the door. "Gladys just hinted that she'd been to prison. For what crime, may I enquire?"
"She spent three hours in a cell in Wickford police station," laughed Willow. "With the door open and as much tea as she could drink."
"She was arrested while she was still in social justice witch mode, after being banished from the haven." I said. "She threw eggs at the Police Superintendent and told him he was part of the patriarchy which was oppressing her. Using less pleasant language than that, though."
I joined Willow at the window and watched Granny talking to Barney and the Sergeant as she guided them back down her pathway and towards their car. Barney dwarfed Sergeant Cooper — although that wasn't hard — the sweating red-faced law keeper was almost as short as Granny, and he would have looked far more at home in a pudding baker's apron than a policeman's uniform. He scratched notes in his book as Granny spoke to him, and shook his head periodically at Barney, who gazed at his feet, looking embarrassed.
"What's happening?" said Boris.
"I think Sergeant Cooper found out that Barney needed Granny's help," murmured Willow. "Barney looks very ashamed."
Finally, Sergeant Cooper slammed his notebook closed and he and Barney got back into the car and drove away as Granny made her way back into the cottage. "Right," she said, scowling as she walked into the kitchen. "Let's teach you how to use my spell book. That horrible little man was awful to Barney. That ginger simpleton needs our help."
I took a sharp intake of breath. "Granny!" I scolded. "That's an awful thing to say!"
"Not my words, dear," she said. "That's what his Sergeant called him. You need to get that lawyer to talk, and you need to make him tell Barney what he knows. I'd like to see that smug look wiped off that Sergeant's face. Barney needs to help solve Sam's murder."
Chapter Ten
After helping Granny dry Boris off, and learning how to cast one of the spells in the book, Willow and I headed back to my boat with the tome of spells.
Mabel was nowhere to be seen, and Rosie was sunbathing on the roof. She leapt off when she saw us coming and scampered inside — no doubt attempting to trick me into filing her bowls again. A colourful narrowboat chugged past on the canal, and Willow and I both waved back at the elderly couple who shared the steering duties at the rear.
I handed Rosie a fish shaped treat, explaining to the overweight cat that I knew Susie had already fed her. Willow placed the big book of spells on the dinette table and opened it at the index. The musty smell of the old paper reminded me of the books Mum used to read to me when I was little, and I joined Willow in searching for the best spell to help make the lawyer give us the information Barney needed.
Granny had spent twenty minutes teaching me how to cast one of the simplest spells in the book, and my head still hurt from the effort. I'd finally managed to make the chair float half an inch above the floor, and Boris had slammed his hooves together in an excited and dangerous attempt at applause.
"What sort of spell are we looking for?" said Willow, running her long fingernail down the eclectic list of spells which were neatly written in black ink.
"I'm not sure," I said. "A truthfulness spell?"
"I don't think so," said Willow. "A truthfulness spell would probably be best for somebody who was lying. The lawyer's not lying — he's just refusing to talk."
"A spell of persuasion?" I suggested.
Willow flipped the page and ran her finger down the spells beginning with the letter P. "Here we are," she said. "Page two hundred and ten."
