Witch Is Why Promises Were Broken

by Adele Abbott

  “Megan came around to ask if she could borrow a tablecloth,” Jack said.

  “I’m sorry to ask, Jill, but I want to make a good impression on Ryan’s parents, and the only tablecloth I own is a bit shabby. I’d buy a new one, but I had to have the van serviced, so I’m pretty skint at the moment.”

  “No problem. We only have three, but you’re welcome to borrow one of those.” I opened the drawer next to the sink. “There you go.” I placed them on the kitchen table.

  “The green one would be ideal. Is it alright for me to borrow that?”

  “You mean the chartreuse one.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Just my little joke. Help yourself.”

  “Thanks, Jill.”

  “No problem. I hope the dinner goes okay.”

  “Me too.” She started for the door, but then hesitated. “Did you find your budgie, Jack?”

  “Budgie?” He looked puzzled.

  “Joey.”

  Jack looked at me, and I winked at him. “You found him, didn’t you, Jack?”

  “Err—yeah. Joey—err—yeah, I found him, thanks.”

  “That’s great news. It’s horrible when a pet goes missing.”

  As soon as Megan was out of the door, Jack turned to me. “Budgie?”

  “It’s a long story. I don’t want to bore you.”

  “Go ahead. Bore me—I have all night.”

  “Right. Okay, well, Kathy rang me this morning to say that she’d lost her wedding ring. She thought it might have fallen off when she came over for the barbecue, so she asked if I’d look for it.”

  “Right? What does that have to do with a budgie?”

  “That’s a good question. Kathy said she’d spent a lot of time leaning against Megan’s fence, so when I’d finished searching our back garden, I climbed over into Megan’s to take a look in there. Anyway, long story short, Megan came back home while I was still in her garden.”

  “So, you told her you were looking for a budgie?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Called Joey?”

  “Correct.”

  “Why not just tell her that you were looking for Kathy’s wedding ring?”

  “Kathy said I mustn’t tell anyone in case it got back to Peter.”

  “Err—right, but won’t she have to tell him sooner or later?”

  “Not now. Crisis averted. Kathy rang this afternoon to tell me she’d found the ring.”

  “Where was it?”

  “Where?”

  “Yeah. Where did she find it?”

  “In—err—the—err—jelly. She’d made some for the kids and it must have fallen into it. It’s a good thing she noticed the ring before one of the kids swallowed it.”

  “I guess so. Right, I’m going upstairs to get changed.”

  “Okay.”

  What? Come on—the ‘missing wedding ring in the jelly’ story was sheer genius.

  Chapter 23

  “Jill! I need your help. It’s urgent!” Jack called from upstairs.

  It was Saturday, and he’d been on edge all day, and all because of some stupid ballroom dancing competition. I’d tried to take his mind off it by suggesting we go for a drive into the countryside for lunch, but he’d said he couldn’t afford the time.

  When I walked into the bedroom, I found him standing in front of the full-length mirror. He was holding a bow tie next to his shirt collar.

  “What’s the emergency?”

  He turned to face me. “Which bow tie do you think? The blue? or green?”

  “Which one do you prefer?”

  “Green, I think.”

  “Me too. Green is definitely the one.”

  “But then, maybe blue is better?”

  “Blue, yeah. Definitely blue.”

  “Are you sure? The green one does look good.”

  Oh boy. “Why not take both? You could swap them halfway through the evening.”

  “That’s a brilliant idea!” He came over and planted a kiss on my cheek. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “No problem.” I started towards the stairs.

  “Aren’t you getting ready yet?”

  “We don’t have to be there for two hours.”

  “You have to look your best. You are accompanying one of the judges, after all.”

  “No one is going to notice me. They’ll all be too busy watching the dancers. You haven’t forgotten that you have to let Mrs V and Armi win, have you?”

  “I’m not going to—”

  “Kidding. Just kidding.”

  I wasn’t really. If I thought I could get away with it, I’d employ a little magic chicanery to influence the result, but with Grandma taking part in the competition, that was a non-starter.

  I realised that Jack was right. As a judge’s partner, I really ought to make the effort, so I spent the next hour sprucing myself up, and although I say it myself, I looked pretty darn good.

  “Jill! Are you ready?” he called from downstairs. “We have to get going.”

  “Ta-da!” I stood at the top of the stairs, and did a little twirl.

  “Have you seen my keys?”

  “Never mind your keys. What about me?” I did a second twirl.

  “You look nice. Oh, I remember. I put them on the kitchen table.”

  Nice? Was that all I got? I might as well have thrown on jeans and a jumper.

  “Found them.” He waved the keys. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”

  “How will we be late? There’s an hour until it starts.”

  “There might be a queue at the toll bridge, or a million other things that could delay us.”

  “Like a zombie apocalypse or a werewolf invasion?”

  “Now you’re just being silly.”

  During the journey into Washbridge, I had to endure more big band music, as Jack ‘got into the mood’. Once we’d parked, he practically dragged me across town to Ever.

  “Slow down! I can’t run in these heels.”

  “If we’re late your grandmother will kill me.”

  Interest in the competition was so great that, when we arrived, there was already a queue outside, even though there was over half an hour until the doors officially opened.

  Jack caught Grandma’s eye, and she came to unlock the door for us.

  “About time!” She tapped her watch.

  “Sorry.” Jack apologised.

  “Go through to my office. Your fellow judges are in there.”

  Jack set off, and I was about to follow when Grandma grabbed my arm.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I was just—”

  “You said you’d help tonight.”

  “Yes, I know, and I will. Just tell me what you want me to do.”

  “The first thing you need to do is get changed.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with this outfit? I spent ages getting ready.”

  “That’s as maybe, but the punters need to know who is on the staff. I’ve got a uniform for you to wear.”

  “What kind of uniform?”

  “Go through to the staff room. It’s in there.”

  “But, Grandma—”

  It was too late; she was headed towards the judges’ soiree. That woman had a nerve, expecting me to wear some stupid waitress’ outfit, but it was too late to back out now.

  When I stepped into the staff room, I was greeted by Kathy, Maria and three other Everettes.

  “Hi, Jill. We’ve been waiting for you.” Kathy had a stupid grin on her face.

  “Kathy? I didn’t realise you’d be working tonight.”

  “Your grandmother roped us all in.”

  “She said I’d find my uniform in here.”

  “Here it is.” Kathy held up the red trouser suit. “You’re an honorary Everette for the evening.”

  “Is this a wind-up?”

  It wasn’t.

  As if it wasn’t bad enough that I looked like an over-ripe tomato in front of the Broom TV came
ras, my trousers were an inch too short.

  “Hey! What are you doing?” I tried to grab the phone from Kathy.

  “Just taking a photo of you.”

  “Don’t you dare. I’ve never made fun of you for having to wear that horrible uniform.”

  “Not much. Revenge is sooo sweet.”

  Just then, Grandma opened the outer doors, and the crowd filed in. For the next thirty minutes, my feet never touched the ground, as I hurried back and forth between the bar and the tables. Meanwhile, Jack was seated at the top table, laughing and joking with his fellow judges, one of whom I recognised. It was Maurice Montage, dance instructor, and sometime interior designer.

  During a lull in proceedings, I managed to fight my way over to where Jack was seated.

  “Jill? What are you wearing?” He grinned.

  “It isn’t funny.”

  “Hello there.” Maurice leaned forward. “I almost didn’t recognise you. Have you given up the P.I. business?”

  “No, I haven’t. I’m just helping out tonight.”

  “In that case, could you get me a Babycham? What about you, Jack?”

  “Just a soda water, please, my little lady-in-red.” He laughed.

  I came this close to smacking him around the head with my tray.

  As Grandma was taking part in the competition, she’d brought in an MC to oversee proceedings. The old wizard, who introduced himself as Brad Noakes, called the room to order by tapping loudly on the microphone.

  “Ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the Ever Ballroom inaugural competition. Mirabel Millbright, the esteemed owner of this fine establishment, has done me the great honour of asking me to act as your MC tonight. My first duty is to introduce your judges: On the right is Mr Maurice Montage. Maurice is a veteran of the ballroom dancing scene; he has won numerous national medals. In the centre, is Eliza Slowstep, another national competition winner, whom many of you will recognise from TV’s Dancing To Win. And finally, we have our local judge, Jack Maxwell. Jack was until recently a member of the Washbridge police force, but now works out of West Chipping. He has won numerous regional dancing awards, and is known particularly for his paso doble. Please give it up for your judges.”

  The crowd clapped enthusiastically.

  “And finally,” the MC continued. “Refreshments are available at the table from the Everettes—you can’t miss them—they’re the ones in the delightful red trouser suits. And so, without further ado, let the competition commence.”

  The next couple of hours were something of a blur. The other Everettes and I were run off our feet, so none of us had much of a chance to watch the dancing. Fortunately, by the time it reached the penultimate round, things had quietened down a little. By then, most people had had enough to drink, so I was able to watch the final stages of the competition.

  Grandma’s partner was an old guy by the name of Laurence Roper. There was no doubt the two of them could dance, but they were also taking no prisoners, knocking other competitors out of the way to ensure they were always in the judges’ line of sight. It was a ruthless but effective tactic that had seen them through to the final. Joining them there were Mrs V and Armi who had won their place without any of the underhand moves employed by Grandma.

  If there was any justice in the world, Mrs V and Armi would take the trophy. Now that there were only two couples left on the dance floor, Grandma and her partner would no longer be able to use their bullyboy tactics because they would be seen and disqualified by the judges.

  “Who’s your money on?” Kathy joined me on the edge of the dance floor, just as the final was about to commence.

  “It had better be Mrs V and Armi. Have you seen how Grandma and her partner have been knocking the other couples out of the way?”

  “Yes, I saw them. It’s a pity the judges didn’t. Surely, Jack will give it to Mrs V and Armi, won’t he?”

  “Only if he thinks they deserve it. Jack is incorruptible—more’s the pity. I tried to get him to promise he’d make sure that Mrs V would win, but he wasn’t having any of it. He’s such a paragon of virtue. I don’t know where he gets it from.”

  “Not from you; that’s for sure.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” The MC took to the mic again. “We now come to the grand final between Mirabel Millbright and her partner, Laurence Roper, and Annabel Versailles and her partner, Joseph Armitage.”

  “Go Mrs V!” I yelled.

  Grandma glared at me.

  “You’re in for it now,” Kathy whispered.

  “I don’t care. Go Armi!”

  The audience was so engrossed in the final that Kathy and I were able to watch it uninterrupted.

  “I think Mrs V and Armi just edged it,” Kathy said when the music stopped.

  “They were the best by far. They’re bound to win.”

  The three judges scribbled their decision onto slips of paper, and then passed them to the MC.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner. With three votes to none, I am pleased to announce that the winners of the inaugural Ever ballroom dancing competition are Mirabel Millbright and Laurence Roper.”

  The crowd seemed stunned momentarily, but then broke into polite applause. Grandma and her partner stepped forward to receive their trophy from Eliza Slowstep.

  “Get in there!” Grandma shouted, as she and Laurence held the trophy aloft.

  Once the competition had ended, the crowd soon slipped away. I was back in the staff room with Kathy and the other Everettes.

  “I never want to see this horrible thing again!” I threw the trouser suit onto the floor.

  “It’s okay for you,” Kathy said. “I have to wear this stupid thing every day.”

  “I’ll never make fun of you again.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  “You’re right. I will.”

  “I still don’t know how your grandmother managed to win. You need to have a serious word with Jack.”

  “Don’t worry. I intend to.”

  “You should have kept the trouser suit on,” Jack said when he and I were in the car. “I thought you looked sexy in it.”

  “I’m not talking to you.”

  “I’m sorry I made fun of the Everette outfit.”

  “Not because of that. How could you vote for Grandma to win the final?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “It was three votes to nil. You must have.”

  “I suppose I must have, but I intended to vote for Mrs V. I distinctly remember putting the tick against her name, but—err—well, I must have made a mistake. The funny thing is that when I was speaking to Maurice afterwards, he said exactly the same thing. He was convinced he’d voted for Mrs V and Armi. Strange, eh?”

  “Why didn’t you say anything to the head judge?”

  “I did, but she said that it wasn’t possible to change the vote. She even showed me my voting slip, and I had put the tick next to your grandmother’s name. What could I do?”

  That cheating, underhanded, despicable woman! She must have somehow used magic to change the voting slips. Were there no depths to which she would not sink?

  Chapter 24

  It was Sunday morning, and I was gobbling down cornflakes.

  “Do you have to work today?” Jack was at the breakfast bar—still in his PJs. “I thought it would be nice to get lunch out.”

  “Now you want to get lunch? I tried to get you to go for lunch yesterday.”

  “I was too busy preparing for the dancing competition.”

  “You mean the competition where you denied Mrs V her rightful trophy?”

  “Don’t make me feel any worse than I already do.”

  “Why not? Can you imagine the stick I’ll get from her tomorrow? And justifiably so.”

  “Come on. It’s a beautiful day. We could go up to the Angler’s Rest. You know you love their Sunday lunch.”

  “I’d like nothing better, but I’m working. I need to take a trip on the Washbridge Flyer to see if it provides me w
ith any clues on the murders.”

  “I’m surprised it’s running while the murderer is still at large.”

  “I don’t think they can afford to close it down. From what I can gather, their finances are already stretched to the limit.”

  “I suppose I could always give Kathy and Peter a call to see if they fancy going for lunch.”

  “Why not? I wouldn’t want you to feel bad about me, working my fingers to the bone while you three stuff yourselves.”

  “We won’t.”

  Sheesh!

  ***

  There was a huge crowd outside the station, so it took me a few minutes to spot Desmond Sidings.

  “Jill, I was beginning to think you weren’t going to make it.”

  “Sorry I’m late. I forgot to set the alarm clock. Is it always this busy?”

  “I wish. Most of these people don’t have tickets—they just turned up on spec. We could have sold out four times over. I suppose it’s all the publicity we’ve been attracting. Come on. We’d better climb on board or we’ll be left behind.”

  He led the way onto the platform, and into the front carriage, which although full, was surprisingly tranquil.

  “I thought you said the press were on the train?”

  “They are, but they’re all in the rear carriage with that nuisance, West.”

  “Thomas West? I thought he’d quit?”

  “He did. He’s booked a ticket as a passenger, and invited all his press buddies along. I thought about turning him away, but that would have given the press an even bigger story.”

  “Jill!” A familiar voice called. It was Stanley Sidcup. “This is yours.” He patted the seat next to him.

  “I’ll leave you to it, Jill.” Desmond started down the aisle towards the buffet car. “Give me a shout if you need anything.”

  “Recent events haven’t put you off, then, Stanley?”

  “It will take more than a few murders to scare me away.” He laughed. “But I am hoping for an uneventful trip today. Have you made any progress with your investigation?”

  “Not really. That’s why I’m here. I thought it might give me some inspiration.”

  The train jolted, and we were on our way. Steam plumed past the window as we headed out into the countryside.