by Sam Short
Footsteps sounded in the hallway outside. "It's that room on the right, officer Dobkins," said a woman's voice.
"Quick," said Veronica. "Stop doing whatever it is you're doing, Penelope!"
My fingers stopped tingling and the spell broke. Ron's arm continued the swinging arc through the air to my front, and Barney roared a warning as he entered the room. "Drop the weapon," he shouted. "Get out of the way, Penelope!"
I moved aside as Barney ran at Ron, his nightstick above his head and anger on his face. "How dare you attack Penny," he shouted, twisting Ron's arm behind his back. The metal bar thudded on the carpet, and Barney kicked it away. "If I wasn't in uniform, I'd do more than put handcuffs on you, you piece of — "
I touched Barney's arm. "He wasn't attacking me — "
"Yes he was," said Veronica, raising her eyebrows at me. "And he killed Sam Hedgewick. That's the murder weapon on the floor. I think you'll find it matches Sam's wound perfectly. Well done, constable! You've bagged yourself a killer!"
Ron groaned. "That girl's a witch," he said, looking at me.
Veronica bristled. "And you're a bast — ”
"Everybody, calm down!" demanded Barney. "Will somebody please tell me what's going on here?"
Chapter Twenty-Two
Daisies had started showing their heads again, and the grass around my mooring was an inch too long. Barney wiped a hand over his sweaty brow as he pushed the lawn mower. "Would you like another drink? I yelled, making myself heard over the petrol engine.
Barney shook his head, his face red, and his ginger fringe stuck to his damp forehead. His white torso glared in the sun, and the two layers of sun cream had begun running down his chest. "No thanks," he shouted, forcing the mower over a bump in the ground. "I haven't got much left to do, and then I have to go to the police station before I go home and get ready for the party."
Willow poured me another iced water from the jug on the picnic bench. "Isn't it exciting?" she said. "You and me living together on a boat!"
"We should raise the rent," said Tony from beside me. "You'll be using more electricity now."
Michelle slapped his hand. "He's joking, girls!'
I wasn't so sure.
Mabel snarled at Tony, and he shooed her away with the hem of his striped apron. Although Tony and Michelle employed two full time chefs, Tony still insisted on working in the hotel kitchen. He'd made a deal with Michelle — when either of the chefs could make a Lancashire hotpot as legendary as his, he'd put his kitchen duties behind him and help Michelle run the rest of the hotel. I doubted it would happen soon. I'd never tasted a Lancashire hotpot like Tony's, even in Lancashire.
"You need to keep that goose under control," said Tony. "It scared all the customers in the beer garden last night, and ate half a chicken from a plate." He looked around the clearing. "She stole the basket too. It's probably around here somewhere."
"We were having a seventies themed food night," explained Michelle. She tapped her husband's hand again. "Anyway, Tony. It's not their goose. It just happens to live here."
"Are you sure you two won't come down for a drink later?" I asked, guiding the subject away from enchanted animals.
"We can't, dear," said Michelle, the scent of her expensive perfume competing with the aroma of freshly mowed grass. "The hotel's too busy to step away from for even a minute in the evening, but you two enjoy your party — it must be so exciting for you both. Two sisters living together on a boat."
It was exciting, and it was surprisingly all thanks to Mum. She'd been the person responsible for suggesting the idea to Willow, and I'd jumped at the chance of having my sister living and working with me. We'd already planned a two week trip along the canals, and were leaving the next day. The school summer holidays were starting in two days time, and the touristy villages and towns along the waterways would be brimming with holidaymakers and potential customers.
"It's hardly a party," I said. "It's just a small gathering of family and friends."
"That's the best kind of party," said Michelle with a smile. She gave Tony a playful dig in his ribs. "Come on, big boy," she said. "The hotel won't book the guests in itself."
The couple made their way back up the hill to the hotel, ignoring Mable who ran in circles around their feet. Rosie leapt up onto the picnic bench, and rubbed herself on my bare arm, ignoring the goose when it came bolting back towards us. Mabel jumped up at the picnic bench, barking and growling at Rosie, who padded to the edge of the tabletop. She watched Mabel intently as she bounced up and down, and when the time was right, landed a perfectly timed paw swipe on her beak.
The goose let out a whelp of shock, and sat down, gazing up at Rosie, averting her eyes when Rosie stared back.
"There," I said, stroking Rosie's back. "I knew you could be friends. It only took Boris to prove to you that Mabel isn't so dangerous."
"I don't think they're friends exactly," said Willow. "I just think the tables have turned. Rosie's the boss now."
Mabel lay submissively on her back and presented Rosie with her fat belly and extended neck. The cat leapt down from the table and sniffed at the bird's white feathers, before turning her back and sauntering away, leaping onto the boat and disappearing inside.
The mowers engine spluttered and stopped, and the birds began singing again. "Finished," shouted Barney.
He'd done a good job, and I grabbed his t-shirt from the table and walked it over to him. "Bend down," I said, as I stood in front of him.
Barney smiled and lowered his head, his lips puckered as he leaned towards my face.
"What are you doing?" I said, guiding his t-shirt over his head.
Barney's face turned a deep shade of crimson. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I thought you were going to give me a thank you kiss. Not a full kiss of course. Just a peck on the lips." The hue in his cheeks spread to his neck. "Or the cheek."
"Your hands are dirty, Barney," I said, "you'd have got fingerprints all over your white t-shirt. I was just trying to help."
Barney stood up straight again. "Thank you," he said, his face still matching the colour of my shorts.
He pushed the lawnmower towards the path. "I'll just take this back to my dad. He want's to do his own lawn tomorrow. Then I've got to go to the station and finish the paperwork for Jason Danvers's bail conditions. He's being released from custody today."
It had been six days since Ron had been arrested and charged with the murder of Sam Hedgewick. I'd convinced the police not to charge Jason with breaking into my boat, even threatening Sergeant Cooper with the promise that I'd stand up in court and say I'd invited him aboard if I had too. Barney had told me that without the additional charge of breaking and entering, it was likely that Jason would be awarded a suspended sentence for the crime he was already wanted for. The thought of him having lost Sam, and then having to languish in jail, had been too much for me, and I'd dropped the charges happily.
I caught up to Barney and tapped him on the back. "Bend down," I said, as he turned around. His constant blushing was becoming a little too much, and I smiled as I gave him a kiss on his reddened warm cheek.
He stood up straight with a wide grin on his face, and his whistling echoed through the trees as he pushed the mower up the footpath, almost tripping over his own feet once or twice.
I sat down opposite Willow on the bench, and we opened the bottle of elderberry wine that was waiting for us in the shade beneath the table. The clink of our glasses startled Mabel, and we kept our drinks touching as I made a toast. "Here's to life together on the water," I said.
Granny and Boris arrived first. Boris had wanted to be one of the first at the party so he could speak freely for a while before the rest of the guests arrived. "Here they are!" said Granny, as she placed her backpack on the table and hugged us both in turn. "My special little homicide detectives!"
Willow laughed, freeing herself from Granny's arms. "We didn't solve the crime," she said. "It was a joint effort. Veronica actually came up w
ith the most important clue, and Penny's magic extracted the full confession."
"Well, we're extremely proud of you both, and Susie of course, aren't we Boris?"
"Profoundly," said Boris, inspecting his hooves. "Although I can't help observing that my part in all of this has been played down a little. If you remember, it was I who discovered and proceeded to entrap the man we wrongly assumed to be the villain. Of course, at the time, I had no idea he was innocent. I placed my life in the direst of danger, and not a mention of my heroism has been made in the newspaper."
"Not this again, Boris," said Granny. "Will you stop harping on about it if I pour you a drink?"
Boris lifted his head. "Naturally."
"Boris can't drink alcohol!" I said. "Barney will be here soon, and Veronica and Wally are coming. How do we explain why a goat is drinking Brandy?"
"Veronica knows you're a witch now, Penny, although I suspect she's known about our family since her and I were teenagers."
"She doesn't know Boris is a man in a goat's body," I protested, 'but go on, what happened when you are a teenager?"
"It was a cold winter," said Granny, pushing her glasses along the bridge of her nose and sitting down next to Willow. "Wages were low and tensions were running high in the town. You have to remember that back then we didn't have computer games, we had to make our own fun, and fun was hard to come by. There was no — "
Boris snorted. "Cut to the chase, Gladys. I need that drink."
Granny fixed Boris with a fiery stare, but Boris simply nudged the backpack with his nose.
"I turned Veronica's uncle into a garden gnome," said Granny. “A gnome with a fishing rod — Harold enjoyed casting a fly."
"You turned Veronica's uncle into a garden gnome and you suspect she knew our family were witches?" I said. "How did you turn him into a garden gnome when you were that age anyway? That's powerful magic!"
"I practiced a lot, dear. Like I said, it was a cold winter and wages were low — "
"You turned a man into a garden gnome," said Willow. "Of course Veronica knew you were a witch! And her uncle must have known!"
"I cast a spell of forgetfulness on her," Granny explained, "and on Harold when he transformed back into himself. No damage was done, and they were both fine when they remembered how to walk and talk again, although Veronica's given me odd looks ever since, and Harold began wearing a fez everywhere he went." Granny shrugged. "I may be way wide of the mark of course. Maybe I'm overreacting. It's just a feeling I get about her."
"You're not overreacting," I said. "Good grief, Granny! I'm surprised you haven't been burnt at the stake!"
Boris nudged the backpack again. "Drink."
Granny opened the bag and took out a large glass mixing bowl. She placed it on the grass and withdrew a bottle from the backpack.
"It's mother's ruin," said Boris. "People will think it's water!"
Granny filled the bowl with gin, and Boris began lapping it up. He lifted his head as Mabel approached. "None for you, you're violent enough without alcohol in you."
"Speaking of mother's," said Granny. "Yours is on her way. She's got news for you."
"Mums's coming?" I said. "She said she'd never come anywhere near my boat."
"Boris had a talk with her," explained Granny.
"I once did three years of a five year psychology course," said Boris, "and it's enabled me to get to the source of her difficulties. It transpires that your mother is more afraid of ingesting insects than we imagined. It's not your boat she's snubbing, the boat is simply a convenient excuse. It's the insect life that thrives along the canal banks which keeps her away from you."
"But she doesn't have to eat anything while she's here," I said.
"Phobias have a nasty way of amplifying if left untreated," explained Boris. "In your dear mother's case, it's progressed to a fear of an insect flying into her mouth."
"Poor Mum," said Willow.
Boris licked his lips. "Don't worry. I'm working on it with her. I'm convinced I can cure her, but in the meantime, we've come up with a compromise."
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mum's bee keeper's hat didn't look too out of place. There were a lot of insects swarming around the tables laden with food, and we'd told Barney, Veronica, and Wally that Mum was allergic to bites to save her from any embarrassment about her real condition.
Wally was dressed in a tweed jacket with a silk cravat, and spoke about his career as a TV comedy writer as he tucked into sandwiches and cakes. Boris looked on with admiration, and whispered to me as Wally raised another laugh from his captive audience. "I could really get along with that chap," he said.
Nobody mentioned how remarkably quickly Veronica had moved on from Ron, and we thought it best to avoid conversations about the murder altogether.
Susie had shown me the front page of the newspaper when she'd arrived, and as requested, she'd kept mine and Willow's names out of it, but had elevated Barney to hero status. Barney had begrudgingly accepted that we wanted him to take the glory for solving the crime, and had admired the photograph of himself in the newspaper, remarking on how much he resembled Prince Harry.
Willow and I helped Mum onto the boat, and after a few initial reservations about the size and the lack of a full sized freezer, she soon warmed to it, even testing the beds out for comfort and lifting the protective screen on the front of her hat so she could rummage though the stock in my shop.
With a witch on a broomstick fridge magnet in Mum's bag, and another bottle of wine in my hand, we stepped ashore and enjoyed the rest of the evening.
Willow and I sat apart from the group for a while, finishing the bottle of wine and planning our trip. Veronica grabbed an empty glass from the table and joined us, curling her legs beneath herself as she sat on the grass.
"So, you're witches," she said."Just like your grandmother."
Willow looked down. "You know about Granny?" she said, fiddling with her bracelet.
Granny cast nervous glances from her seat and waved at Veronica, who raised her hand in return. "Of course I do," said Veronica. "She doesn't know it though. She thinks I've forgotten, but I remember what she did that day."
I feigned ignorance. "What day, Veronica? What did she do?"
"It was a long time ago. My uncle had shouted at me and Gladys for throwing stones at the barges on the canal, but we were bored you see, you know how kids can be?"
I nodded.
"Well, he really upset Gladys, and she almost cried. When I saw you at the nursing home with those sparks coming from your fingers, it all came flooding back to me again. That's exactly what Gladys did, but I seem to remember she'd screwed her face up too."
"She does that," said Willow.
"Well, that's when she cast her curse, or whatever you witches call them, and my uncle was never the same again."
'I'm so sorry, Veronica," I said. "For whatever she did."
"No!" Don't be sorry!" laughed Veronica. "I've been wanting to thank Gladys for years, but I didn't know how. I think she thought she was doing something bad to my uncle, but it turned his life around — he was lonely after my aunty died, and thanks to Gladys, he met the woman he spent the rest of his life with."
"Huh?" spluttered Willow, choking on wine.
Veronica lowered her voice. "She cast a silly curse which made him enjoy wearing ridiculous hats! He took to wearing one of those fez things everywhere he went. When he'd recovered from the plague of course."
"Plague?" I said.
"That was what me and my uncle called it. The doctors had no idea what was wrong with us. We caught it together, and we both forgot how to walk or talk for a month. It was all very odd."
"It sounds awful, but how did wearing a fez change his life?" said Willow, expertly skirting the subject of forgetfulness spells.
"There was a very famous comedian who arrived on the scene, I doubt you've heard of him, Tommy Cooper was his name."
I nodded, but Willow shook her head.
&
nbsp; "He was famous for wearing a fez you see, and my uncle loved him! He went to every Tommy Cooper show that he could, and it was at one of his shows that he met Sarah. His life changed from that day forward, and it was all thanks to that lovely woman over there, whispering in her goat's ear."
Veronica sipped her wine. She spat it on the grass and made a face. "This wine's awful," she said. "Where on earth did you buy it?"
"I made it," I smiled. "It's elderberry."
"Anybody else would apologise and beg your forgiveness," said Veronica. "But not me, I'm honest. Penelope, this wine is vile."
"It is quite awful," said Willow, laughing.
"You'd better get used to it," I smiled, standing up and brushing grass clippings from my legs. "There's twenty-two bottles left on the boat."
As darkness approached, Wally and Veronica left. They walked side by side and linked arms as they reached the steepest part of the hill, disappearing into the gloom together.
Susie broke down into sobs until we reminded her we'd only be gone for two weeks. "We're not going far either" I said, hugging her. "You'll be able to drive out and visit us."
When it was Barney's turn to say goodbye, he lifted and dropped his arms nervously until I took charge of the situation. I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him tight.
"Thank you for everything you did," he said. "You solved Sam's murder and let me take the credit. I'll never forget. Maybe I could take you out for a meal when you get back — as a thank you of course, nothing else!"
I smiled. "I'd like that, Barney," I said.
Barney turned and waved as he climbed the footpath. "Enjoy your trip!" he shouted.
"Thank goddess they've all gone!" said Mum, when Barney had vanished. "Now we can get down to the real business. I've got some exciting news for you, Penelope."
"I was dying to tell her when I got here!" said Granny, "but I kept my mouth closed! It was so difficult!"
