by Sam Short
“You’re not going to hide something, are you?” laughed Barney. His smiling face quickly transformed into a look of fear as Granny scowled at him. “It was just a joke,” he said, moving behind me.
I took him by the elbow. “Come on,” I said. “I’ll take you into the garden.”
Granny scampered up the stairs as I led Barney through the cottage. The back door was open and I was relieved to see that Willow had overheard the conversation on the doorstep and was taking evasive action. Boris didn’t look relieved though. He stood with his head bowed, shivering as Willow washed him down with the hosepipe. His beard dripped with water, but as we neared him I was happy to see that his hair was white and any evidence of sooty water had soaked into the lawn.
The chickens squawked as overspray splattered them, and Barney stopped a few feet from Willow with a frown on his face. “Hi,” he said, “washing the goat?”
Boris made a spluttering sound as Willow washed a stray strand of wool from one of his horns.
“It’s a warm day, Barney,” said Willow. “He was getting a little overheated.”
Barney studied Boris, and Boris stared back at him, narrowing his eyes. “He does look a little aggressive,” said Barney. “Are you sure he couldn’t have escaped and found his own way to the quarry? Maybe some kids caught him and put a balaclava on him?”
“Of course not,” said Willow. “He’s tied to a pole.”
Barney gave the goat one last look. “Listen,” he said, speaking to both me and Willow, and wiping his brow with the back of a hand. “I know the fire was nothing to do with your grandmother, and to be honest, I wouldn’t really care if it was. You two helped me with my last case, and I won’t forget that. I’ll just have a quick look around the cottage, tell Sergeant Cooper that he’s barking up the wrong tree, and get on with my day.”
“Coooeee!” came Granny’s raised voice. “You can come and have a look around, Barney! Everything’s in order now! There’s nothing to see here!”
Granny leant from her bedroom window waving at us, and Barney raised his eyebrows. “Everything’s in order now. There’s nothing to see. What does she mean?”
“She just means she’s tidied up a little,” said Willow, twisting the nozzle of the hose to the off position, much to Boris’s obvious delight. He shook the water from his hair and gave a loud satisfied sigh.
“Is he alright?” said Barney. “He sounds like he needs to see a vet.”
“He’s perfectly okay,” I said, taking Barney by the wrist and leading him down the garden path, both literally and figuratively. “Come on, you can decide which restaurant you want to take me to, while you look around Granny’s cottage.”
Willow followed us, and together we showed Barney around the bottom floor of the cottage. He gazed around unfazed as we took him into what had once been Granny’s prized backroom, but had recently been transformed into a goat’s study. Willow had done a good job of making it look almost normal. The empty glasses and half-drunk bottles of brandy had vanished, and the ash trays full of cigar ends were hidden — although the room was still rich with the scent of expensive tobacco. Boris’s cushion had been turned upside down, hiding the white hairs, and his computer coffee table desk had been cleared of the technology a goat needed to navigate the internet.
Barney cleared his throat. “Thanks, girls,” he said. “I’ll just have a quick walk around upstairs, and I’ll be on my way.”
Willow led the way up the stairs and Barney brought up the rear. “I was thinking of the Golden Wok,” he said, as we neared the top, where Granny stood waiting with a smug look on her face. “If you like Chinese food that is.”
“That sounds lovely,” I lied.
“That way, constable!” said Granny, with her back to the closed door of the guest bedroom, pointing Barney in the direction of her bedroom and the rest of the top floor.
Barney gave an embarrassed smile and poked his head around the open door of the bathroom. “It’s okay!” hissed Granny, as Barney moved into the next room. “I’ve hidden Charleston!”
“Where?” I said. “There’s nowhere in that room to hide him, and you couldn’t have fitted him under the bed!”
Granny patted me on the shoulder. “Trust me, Sweetheart. Granny knows best.”
Barney emerged from Granny’s bedroom. “Thank you, Mrs Weaver,” he said. “If I could just look in the last room, I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of the day.”
Granny swung the door to the bedroom open, and gestured at Barney to step inside. “Be my guest,” she said, winking at me and Willow. “I’m sure you’ll find everything is in order.”
I took a deep breath as Barney stepped into the room, but the air barely had the chance to fill my lungs before Barney gave a panicked cry. “What the —” he shouted. “Who the — what’s going on? Come out of there with your hands where I can see them!”
I followed Willow into the room with my heart in my mouth and my mind in slow motion. Willow came to a dead stop, and I bumped into her back as the two of us unravelled what we were seeing.
Chapter Five
Barney stood frozen to the spot with his nightstick raised above his head. “Come out!” he repeated, edging closer to the corner of the room.
Willow gave a choking gasp, and Granny ran into the room and put her hand on Barney’s arm. “It’s okay,” she said. “He’s a friend of the family.”
Barney ignored Granny. “Come out!” he repeated. “I’m not stupid, I can see you.”
The fact that Barney could see Charleston Huang in no way indicated any lack of stupidity on his behalf. When Granny had insisted she’d hidden Charleston, I’d had my doubts, but what I was looking at raised important questions about Granny’s level of sanity. Or complete lack of it.
Charleston was unceremoniously propped up in the corner, with one of Granny’s spare curtains draped over him. The curtain covered him from the neck down, hanging off him like an ill-fitting moo-moo. I stared in disbelief as Barney approached Charleston and lifted a light-shade from his head, stumbling backwards as the shocked face of the acupuncturist confronted him.
Granny shrugged. “I did my best,” she said. “Now, have you two girls been studying my spell book? Or do I have to attempt a spell myself, and risk turning Barney into a standing lamp?”
Barney touched Charleston’s face, prodding him with a finger. “What have you done?” he said, slowly turning to face us. “Is he dead? Did you kill him? Who is he? I knew something was wrong here. I saw the tyre tracks near the lean-to, and I wondered why you were washing the goat! You’ve killed this man and burnt his car to hide the evidence! What’s the goat got to do with all this, though? And why does it smell of cigar smoke downstairs? None of you smoke!”
“A spell would be very handy right now,” said Granny, leaning against the doorframe, looking far too casual for a woman being accused of murder. “My fingers are itching to cast one, and if I cast it, who knows what will happen. My dementia’s feeling very playful today.”
Barney reached for his radio, and Willow raised her hand. Purple sparks played on the fingertips, and Barney’s mouth widened into an O, matching the expression which was etched on the man’s face behind him. “I’m sorry, Barney,” said Willow.
“Wh — what’s happening here?” stammered Barney. “Am I awake?”
Barney pressed the button on his radio and Willow clicked her fingers. Barney’s hands dropped to his sides and he looked around the room in confusion. “Where am I?” he said. “Penny? Willow? Mrs Weaver? Is this heaven?”
I’d have liked to have thought that heaven would have been a little more pleasant than a gloomy guest bedroom containing three witches and a frozen Chinese acupuncturist, but I supposed every mortal had their own personal vision of paradise. I was quite flattered to be included in Barney’s.
“No, Barney,” said Willow, “It’s not heaven and everything’s going to be okay. I need you to listen to me, do you understand?”
Bar
ney nodded.
“Put the nightstick away, and pick your hat up.”
Barney did as he was told, stooping slowly to retrieve his hat from the floor.
Willow continued. “You’re going to walk downstairs, and when you get outside, you’re going to believe that you’ve looked around the cottage and everything was as it should be. You’ll forget about tyre tracks, goats, and men in this bedroom. Do you understand, Barney?”
Barney nodded again.
“Tell him to forget about the Golden Wok,” I said. “The food there is vile.”
“Do you want him to forget about taking you out for a meal completely?” offered Willow.
Barney’s confused eyes settled on my face, and he lifted a hand towards me, his fingers trembling, and his voice soft as he spoke. “Penny, have you tried the duck in orange sauce? It’s divine.”
I smiled. “No, Willow. I’ll go for a meal. I want to, just not the Golden Wok.”
“Barney,” said Willow, her hand at waist height. “You’ll remember that Penny said she’d go for a meal with you, but you’ll be adamant that she chooses where. Oh, and you’ll offer to pay the whole of the bill, including drinks and any taxi fares incurred.”
“Half,” I said.
“You’ll go dutch, Barney,” said Willow. She winked at me. “Very modern of you, Penny.”
“Can you ask him to ignore any complaints from the window cleaner?” asked Granny. “I’m sure he’s the type to try his luck at getting compensation from me.”
Willow glared at Granny. “You deserve to pay more than just the window cleaner compensation, and I don’t want to hear any more about that whole sorry saga. Some things are best left to the imagination.”
“I’ll let you keep my spell book for as long as you need it?” pleaded Granny.
Willow and I had acquired Granny’s treasured spell book using manipulation and blackmail. It was fittingly appropriate that Granny was now using it as a means to manipulate Willow.
I tried for a better deal. “And let us use your car until I buy one?” I said.
Granny waved a casual hand. “You can have that old thing. Boris is buying us a new one. He wants us to have one of those big Range Rovers.”
Charleston Huang was a wealthy man, and Boris had already allowed Granny to use his credit card. It came as a mild surprise that he’d let Granny buy a new car though, especially one that pricey.
“Deal?” I asked Willow.
“Deal,” she confirmed. She waved her hand at Barney. “If a window cleaner approaches you with allegations of indecent exposure —”
“Accidental exposure,” corrected Granny.
“Of any sort of exposure,” continued Willow. “You’re to ignore him and tell him to drop any insurance claims against Granny.”
Barney nodded, his eyelids drooping. “Indecent. Granny. Understood,” he slurred.
“Everyone got what they wanted?” said Willow.
Granny and I both agreed.
“Okay, Barney,” said Willow. “Walk downstairs, open the front door, and when you turn to face us, everything will be as it should be, and you’ll think everything I’ve asked you to do is all your own idea.”
Barney nodded slowly, dragging his feet as he made his way past us and down the stairs. We followed him closely with Willow directly behind him, sparks still crackling from her fingers.
Sunlight poured into the hallway as Barney opened the heavy front door, and the moment he stepped over the threshold his whole posture changed. He stopped for a few seconds, rolling his shoulders and taking a deep breath, before turning slowly on the spot to face us.
Willow dropped her hand and the sparks disappeared as Barney rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times. “Sorry to have disturbed you, Mrs Weaver,” he said, putting his hat on. “I was only doing my job, I hope you understand.”
“And a fine job you did too, Barney,” said Granny. “Most thorough indeed. It makes me feel safe to know that the constabulary employs officers of such high calibre.”
“Just serving my community,” beamed Barney. “It’s an honour.”
“Off you trot then,” suggested Granny. “I’ve got things to do, and you’ve taken up enough of my time already today.”
Barney straightened his hat and pulled his trousers up, showing a flash of white sock above his boots. “Let me know when you’ve decided on a restaurant, Penny,” he said.
I gave him my sincerest smile. “I will,” I promised.
“I’ve got a better idea,” said Granny.
I doubted it, but I let her speak.
“My son’s arriving for a visit today, Barney.” she said. “He’s coming to watch the pie eating competition. He loves a nice pie, does Brian. He’s staying at Maggie’s cottage and we’re having a family meal tonight to welcome him and make him feel safe. He’s oppressed you see, and he’d love it if an officer of the law was present.”
So that’s who Mum had been preparing the cottage for. My uncle Brian, her brother. Oppressed though? Uncle Brian was the least oppressed person I knew. Apart from Granny, of course. “I’m sure Barney doesn’t want to spend his Friday evening with us,” I said, scowling at my grandmother. “He’s got better things to do, and anyway, Willow and I weren’t asked if we wanted to attend a meal, and Uncle Brian is not oppressed.”
Granny wiped her hands on her apron and forced her glasses to the top of her nose. “Until the day there’s a gay astronaut — Brian is, and will remain, oppressed. And I’m telling you two girls right now that you’re coming to Maggie’s meal. You haven’t seen her for two weeks. She’s preparing a feast, and she’s using her best porcelain. The set with the little blue and white Chinese folk on it.”
Barney cleared his throat. “I’d love to come, Mrs Weaver,” he said diplomatically. “It would be a pleasure to meet your son, and Maggie does know how to cook.”
It wouldn’t be the first time Barney had been to my mum’s for a meal. Last time, she’d cooked lasagne, and she’d glowed for hours after Barney had enthusiastically praised her cooking skills. The ingredients had come from the haven though, and anything cooked with ingredients brought back from the haven was always going to taste good. The magical dimension was off limits to Willow and I until we’d acquired enough magic skills to be given our entry spells, but rumour had it that mine was to be given to me in the near future. If you believed my mother, and Aunt Eva — who was a permanent resident of the haven, and a renowned gossipmonger, that is.
Granny was unable to visit the haven until her witch dementia cleared up, but that was probably a good thing. Granny had caused a lot of trouble in the haven in the past, and it would do her good to stay away for a while.
“Well that clears that up!” said Granny. “Now, off you go, Barney. You need to catch an arsonist, and I need to tend to my goat. We’ve both got quite a day ahead of us! I look forward to seeing you at Maggie’s cottage at seven o’clock sharp.”
“Seven it is!” smiled Barney.
He headed down the path towards his car, and I whispered to Willow. “What spell was that?” I said. “It was very impressive.”
“A spell of purged memory,” said Willow. “Page twenty-four in Granny’s book.”
“Well done, girls,” said Granny, pushing between us. “We averted a disaster back there. He’s a cunning one… that Barney Dobkins. I really didn’t think he’d spot Charleston. He’s got eyes like a hawk and a brain built for policing, that boy!”
“You draped a curtain over Charleston and put a light shade on his head,” I said. “Of course Barney saw him!”
“He’ll make a fine Sergeant one day,” continued Granny. “He’ll clean this town up and show the criminals who’s boss. You mark my words.”
Barney waved at us as he opened the car door, and reached for his radio as it crackled into life. “Okay,” he said, speaking quickly. “I’ll be straight there. Give Mrs Oliver a cup of tea and tell her to calm down.”
There’s nothing more infuria
ting than only hearing one side of what sounds like a very important conversation, and I hated being infuriated. “What’s happened?” I asked.
Barney sighed. “The same as yesterday, and the day before,” he said. “Birdwatchers complaining about one of the farmers shooting crows. He’s not breaking any laws, but you try and tell Mrs Oliver that.”
I remembered my promise to Gerald Timkins. I didn’t want to get him in trouble, so I feigned ignorance. “That sounds more exciting than looking around Granny’s cottage,” I said.
Barney put the car in gear and edged forward. “You haven’t met Mrs Florence,” he shouted through the open window.
“Seven o’clock Barney!” shouted Granny, tapping her watch. “Make sure you’re there on time, Maggie’s doing a prawn cocktail starter. She’ll be as crazy as a dwarf in a stilt shop if you’re late!”
Barney waved his acknowledgement, and Granny turned her attention to us as the police car left her property.
“I’d like you two to do me a favour,” she said. “Boris is a little upset that he can’t come to the meal at your mother’s tonight. I’d like you to let him stay on your boat. It will lift his spirits, I’m sure.”
“But we’ll be at the meal,” Willow said, “and I don’t like the idea of Boris being alone on the boat. Those hooves of his could cause all sorts of problems.”
“Ask Susie to look after him,” said Granny. “She and Boris get along like a house on fire. They’ll have a wonderful time together, and it will give Susie an excuse to refuse Maggie’s invitation to dinner — she said she was going to ask her.”
I was absolutely sure that Susie wouldn’t want to come to my mum’s for a Weaver family meal, and I was absolutely certain that Granny wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
“Of course he can stay on the boat,” I said. “I’ll phone Susie and ask her.”
“Good,” said Granny. “Take Boris with you as soon as you can. I need to get ready.”
