by Adele Abbott
“I traced Helen’s granddaughter, Cynthia. This journal is the reason I wanted to talk to both of you. I’ve read it a dozen times, and I’m still not sure what it means for me.”
“For you?” Grandma snatched the journal. “Why should it mean anything for you?”
“You’ll see when you read it.”
Grandma flicked it open, and then looked up at me. “You’d better make yourself scarce while we read it.”
“I thought you might need me to explain—”
“I think Lucy and I are both capable of understanding a journal without your help. Why don’t you go to Cuppy C, and we’ll call you when we’re done?”
“I didn’t actually expect you to do it right now.”
“There’s no time like the present; then I can get back to my boil.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“What are you waiting for? Off you go.”
***
Had I done the right thing in showing the journal to Aunt Lucy and Grandma? What would they make of it? These and a dozen other questions were swimming around my mind as I walked over to Cuppy C, which probably explained why I didn’t spot Miles Best until it was too late to avoid him.
“Jill, I’m glad I’ve bumped into you.”
“That makes one of us, then.”
“I deserve that.”
“Was there something you wanted?”
“Only to apologise once again for my behaviour, and to ask for your forgiveness.”
“How stupid do you think I am, Miles?” I laughed. “We’ve been here before. You’ve already proven that your word and apologies are worthless.”
“I don’t blame you for feeling that way, but hopefully time will prove I’ve changed.”
“And what has brought about this miraculous transformation?”
“I have a new girlfriend; her name is Cindy.”
“Does Mindy know?”
“Yes. In fact, Cindy is a friend of Mindy’s.”
“I’m very pleased for you both, but now I have to be going because I have a rendezvous with a blueberry muffin.”
“If you come into Best Cakes, you can have a muffin and coffee on the house, by way of an apology. You’ll get to meet Cindy too.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll stick with Cuppy C.”
The twins were wearing matching maternity dresses.
“Hello, you two. Isn’t it a bit early to be wearing those?”
“Never too early.” Amber was just as radiant as the last time I’d seen her. “They’re so comfortable.”
“What can I get for you, Jill?” Pearl asked. “Your usual?”
“Please. I’m starving. Guess who just collared me on the way over here?”
“Grandma? She didn’t want you to lance her boil, did she?”
“No, thank goodness. It was Miles Best; he apologised to me again, and even offered me a free coffee and muffin.”
“He’s up to something.”
“That’s what I thought. He says he has a new girlfriend.”
“Shush!” Amber put her finger to her lips. “Mindy’s over there.”
I followed her gaze to see Mindy, seated by the window.
“According to Miles,” I whispered. “His new girlfriend, Cindy, is a friend of Mindy’s.”
“Poor Mindy,” Amber said.
“I never thought I’d hear you say that. Incidentally, I’ve been meaning to ask the two of you—what will you do about Cuppy C?”
“How do you mean?” Pearl passed me the coffee and muffin.
“When the babies are born. Are you planning to keep the shop on, and come back to work, or will you sell up?”
“We haven’t decided yet,” Amber said. “We both like the idea of being stay-at-home mums, but Cuppy C is our baby too. We’re going to have to give it a lot of thought.”
“Jill!” Mindy called to me. “Do you have a minute?”
“Excuse me, you two. I’d better see what she wants.”
“Sorry to trouble you, Jill,” Mindy said. “I saw you talking to Miles. I just wondered if he’d said anything about me.”
“Did you know that he’s seeing someone else?”
“So I heard. He’s supposedly dating Cindy, isn’t he?”
“Supposedly?”
“He doesn’t even like her; he never has. He’s only doing it because she’s one of my best friends. He thinks he can make me jealous, but he’s got another think coming.”
“Good for you.”
“Why don’t you join me for a few minutes?”
“Sure. Why not?”
We ended up chatting for over half an hour. Mindy was a much nicer person when she was away from Miles Best. I just hoped she’d have the resolve not to go back to him.
A couple of minutes after Mindy had left, Daze made an appearance.
“Would you like another drink, Jill?”
“Yes, please.” I thought I might as well because I had no idea how long I might be waiting for Grandma’s call.
“There you go.” She handed me the latte, and joined me at the table.
I took out my purse to pay her.
“Put that away. This is on me, by way of a thank you for your help with the gargoyles.”
“Did you catch them?”
“Yes. They’re all banged up in Candlefield. We also managed to recover some of their haul, and return it to the rightful owners. I was so relieved to get out of that fish and chip shop. If I’d had to spend another day in there, I would have handed in my notice. Blaze too.”
“I’m pleased I was able to help. Do you think I could pick your brain on something?”
“You can try.”
“I just wanted your take on which sup/human relationships seem to work best?”
“I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask for relationship advice.”
“I meant which ones are least likely to fall foul of the rules governing such relationships. You guys are responsible for arresting sups who reveal their true identities to their human partners. I just wondered if it’s more likely to happen with a witch or wizard, or a vampire or werewolf.”
“Is this about you and Jack?”
“No. Actually, what prompted the question is that my PA has started dating a werewolf.”
“Mrs V?”
“No.” I laughed. “The other one: Jules. I also know two humans who are dating vampires. I just wondered if certain pairings were more prone to fall foul of the rules than others?”
“The only thing I have to go on is the number of arrests we make. We take far more witches and wizards back to Candlefield than we do vampires or werewolves.”
“That’s not very encouraging.”
“To be fair, I’d say that there are far more witches and wizards in relationships with humans than there are vampires or werewolves. The other problem is that a lot of witches and wizards just can’t keep their magic in their shorts.”
Just then my phone rang; it was Grandma.
“We’re ready for you.”
“Okay. I’m on my way.” I slurped down the rest of the coffee. “Sorry, Daze, I have to run.”
Chapter 22
When I arrived back at Aunt Lucy’s, she was just pouring the three of us a cup of tea.
“I’d offer you a cupcake, but I imagine you had a muffin at Cuppy C?”
“Actually, they were all out of blueberry muffins.”
What? A little white lie never hurt anyone.
“Have you both read the journal?” I asked, as the three of us took our seats around the dining table.
“We have.” Grandma yawned. “It’s never going to become a bestseller.”
“What do you make of it?”
“Well, I—” Aunt Lucy began, but she didn’t get any further because Grandma raised her hand.
“Before we have our say, why don’t you tell us what you make of it?”
She’d put me on the spot.
“I don’t know.”
“You must have
some thoughts on it.”
“Okay.” I took a few moments to compose myself. “If the journal is correct, Charles Wrongacre tried to save his daughter and Damon by developing a spell that would allow them to return again.”
“Are you talking about reincarnation?” Aunt Lucy said.
“I suppose so.”
“Carry on,” Grandma urged.
“The first time Damon came back from the dead, he sought out Juliet, and believed he’d found her in Magna Mondale. But it was obvious to him that Magna didn’t remember him or their former life together. Damon went in search of Helen Drewmore, and found her daughter, Freda. She gave him the locket, which he gave to Magna Mondale. The following day, Damon was murdered. When Magna returned the locket, Freda offered to show her the journal, but Magna declined the offer because she was sure that Damon had got the wrong person. When Damon returned from the dead a second time, he once again retrieved the locket, and brought it to me. Not long after that, I found him dead—he’d been murdered.”
“You’ve told us what happened.” Grandma sighed. “But not what it means.”
“That’s because I don’t know what it means.”
“Rubbish.” She thumped the table. “Tell us what you think.”
“Okay. I think that Juliet Braxmore returned from the dead, first as Magna Mondale, and then—” I hesitated.
“Then what?”
“As me. What else am I meant to think?”
“Didn’t I tell you, Lucy?” Grandma turned to her daughter. “I knew that’s what she thought.”
“What other explanation could there be?” I said.
“You’re missing a couple of vital points.” Grandma picked up the journal, and flicked through the pages. “Here! Read this section carefully.”
I did as she said, but I wasn’t sure what she was getting at. I shook my head.
“It says that the spell was first cast on Damon, and then on Juliet. It also says that Charles Wrongacre was concerned that the spell hadn’t worked properly the second time because he was interrupted by Braxmore’s men.”
“I remember that, but why is that significant?”
“Because of what happened subsequently. When Damon returned, he looked identical each time. And, not only did he look the same, but at a certain age, he began to remember his past life.”
“But, I don’t look anything like Juliet Braxmore, and from what I’ve seen, neither did Magna Mondale.”
“Precisely.” Grandma nodded. “And neither of you had any memory of Damon, or of a past life. Have you ever stopped to wonder why he picked out you and Magna when neither of you look like Juliet?”
“I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“I did. Juliet Braxmore was reportedly one of the most powerful witches of her time, so when Damon couldn’t find anyone who looked like Juliet, he sought out the most powerful witches alive: the first time that was Magna Mondale; the second time it was you.”
“But what does all that mean? Who am I? Am I Juliet Braxmore or Magna Mondale?”
“You’re neither of them. This is really very simple: you’re Jill Gooder. The spell that Charles Wrongacre cast on his daughter didn’t work—at least, not as he’d intended it to. Unlike Damon, she was not reincarnated. However, it does appear that something of her—let’s call it her spirit—somehow found a new home, not once but twice. The first time in Magna Mondale, and the second time in you. That would explain why both you and Magna were blessed with such extraordinary powers.”
I took my first drink of tea, which by now was almost cold. “Aunt Lucy? You haven’t said anything yet? What do you think?”
“I don’t think any of us can ever know for sure, but I do believe that the explanation your grandmother has come up with is the one that makes the most sense. What about you? How do you feel about all this?”
“Confused mainly. I’d like to think that Grandma is right. I’m Jill Gooder. Not Magna Mondale or Juliet Braxmore.”
“There is one unknown that worries me,” Grandma said.
“What’s that?”
“Braxmore.”
“Why worry about him? He’s gone.”
“Has he, though? Are you sure about that? Someone killed Magna Mondale, and Damon—twice. And someone sent TDO after you. Who’s to say it wasn’t Braxmore?”
“How could he possibly be alive after all this time?”
“I don’t think you can ignore the possibility.”
“If he was, then he would have come after me again, wouldn’t he?”
“He still might.”
“What do you think I should do?”
“About Braxmore? There’s nothing you can do except be vigilant at all times. You must never let your guard down.”
“I meant about Juliet and Magna. I feel as though I owe them some kind of debt.”
“Nonsense. The only person you owe anything to now is yourself. You need to start to live your own life, and forget what may or may not have happened in the past. That’s gone now, and isn’t something you can change.”
***
When I got back to the office, Jules was still floating on cloud Dexter.
“What did you think of him, Jill?”
“Dexter? He seems nice enough.”
“Don’t you think he’s a hunk?”
“I guess so, but physique isn’t everything. Personality is just as important.”
“Of course. He’s really nice—very sweet. He’s taking me to his favourite pub tonight—it’s called The Howling. I’ve never been there before.”
I had. It was a favourite haunt of werewolves. The last time I’d been there was when I’d managed to thwart Boris Breakskull’s plans for the werewolves to take over the human world.
“If memory serves me right, it’s a bit of a dive; it attracts some unsavoury characters. Just be careful.”
“I’ll be okay. I have Dexter to protect me.”
There was no sign of Winky anywhere in my office. Big Gordy’s money was due today, so maybe Winky had decided to take it to him rather than wait for him to collect it.
I was on the point of calling it a day, and heading home, when the temperature dropped.
“Jill. Are you okay? You look a little washed out.” It was my father.
“I’m okay—just a little tired.”
“I know just the thing to cheer you up. Come with me.” He held out his hand.
“I’m done in, Dad. I’m not really in the mood for—”
“Nonsense.” He took my hand. “This will do you the world of good. You’ll need to magic yourself to GT with me, though. You can do that, can’t you?”
“Sure. Where are we going?”
“You’ll see. Come with me.”
I cast the spell, and held onto his hand. When we arrived in GT, Blodwyn was waiting for us. “I’m sorry about this, Jill. I tried to tell him this was a bad idea.”
Only then, did I realise we were standing right outside my mother’s house.
“Dad? What are we doing here?”
“Come on.” My father grabbed Blodwyn’s hand, and led both of us up the driveway, and around the back of the house.
“What do you want?” My mother yelled at my father, and then she spotted me. “Jill?”
I shrugged.
“I bought three tickets earlier, from Alberto.” My father produced them from his pocket. “Shall we begin the tour?”
I’m convinced that if I hadn’t been there, my mother would have taken one of the gnomes and broken it over my father’s head. Instead, she was forced to take us on a guided tour of the garden.
“What’s this one called, Darlene?” My father pointed to a gnome with a fishing rod, next to the ornamental well.
“His name is Rod.”
“Rod?” He laughed. “I have to hand it to Alberto. He has a sense of humour.”
“I did try to talk him out of this,” Blodwyn whispered.
“What about this one?” My father pointed again.
He glanced at me. “Oh, yes. Now, I see the resemblance. It’s the nose, isn’t it?”
If my mother didn’t kill him, I probably would.
What? Yes, of course I know he’s already dead.
Fifteen minutes later, and it was obvious that my mother was rushing through the tour just as fast as she could. I couldn’t say that I blamed her.
“Is that one called Darlene?” My father pointed to a large gnome, wearing a pink dress.
“No, it isn’t.” My mother was livid. “Its name is Barbara.”
“Oh? I thought it might be named after you.”
“And why would you think that?”
“It’s just that she has a big mouth, don’t you think?”
“Right!” My mother picked up an empty plant pot from the pile next to the bench.
“Don’t throw that, Darlene!” My father raised his hand, but it was too late—the plant pot was already winging its way towards him. He managed to duck just in time. “There’s no need—” He wasn’t quick enough to avoid the second one.
“Come on.” I grabbed Blodwyn’s arm. “This isn’t our battle.”
“What’s going on out here?” Alberto appeared at the back door.
“Nice to see you, Alberto.” I dragged Blodwyn past him and down the driveway.
“I can’t apologise enough, Jill.” Blodwyn was clearly enraged by what she’d just witnessed.
“It isn’t your fault. My father is behaving like a child; he should know better. I have to get back. Will you be okay?”
“I will be, but your father won’t. When your mother has finished with him, he’ll have me to reckon with.”
***
I magicked myself back to Washbridge, and then drove home. Normally, on a Friday night, I could look forward to a long, restful weekend, but not today. Saturday evening was the Ever ballroom dancing competition. No doubt Jack would spend all of tomorrow preparing for that. And then, on Sunday, I’d arranged to travel on the Washbridge Flyer.
Weekends just didn’t get any better than that.
When I walked into the house, I could hear voices. Jack was talking to Megan.
“Hi, Megan.” I tried to sound more upbeat than I felt.
