by Adele Abbott
Memories of my meeting with Alicia came flooding back.
“Yeah, probably. Why don’t you get your job and flat sorted out first, and then we can take it from there?”
Chapter 16
I popped into Aunt Lucy’s, and managed to catch Lester on his own in the living room.
“Lester,” I said in a whisper. “Can I have a word?”
“What is it, Jill?”
“I think I know why Aunt Lucy is being so difficult over the honeymoon.”
“That woman is driving me crazy.”
“You mustn’t let her know that I’ve told you, but she’s scared of aeroplanes.”
“She never said.”
“She’s embarrassed to admit it. Maybe you could come up with somewhere that doesn’t involve travelling on an aeroplane? Maybe a nice railway journey or a cruise, if you can afford it?”
“Thanks for telling me, Jill. She should have said something.”
“You won’t tell her I told you, will you?”
“Mum’s the word. I’ll do some research, and see if I can come up with some ideas. Thanks again, Jill.”
“No problem.”
Just then, I heard voices in the kitchen.
“Your grandmother is in there with Lucy. You’re in for a surprise when you see her.”
“How do you mean?”
“You’ll see.” Lester grinned, and before I could ask him any more questions, he disappeared out of the door.
Grandma and surprises were not a good combination, but curiosity got the better of me. She and Aunt Lucy were seated at the kitchen table.
“Hi, Jill,” Aunt Lucy said.
“Hello, Jill.” Grandma smiled at me. “Would you like a cup of tea? I’ll make it.”
Something was definitely not right. I had to sit down before I fell down. What was going on? Grandma had just smiled and offered to make tea. I looked to Aunt Lucy for an explanation, but she just grinned.
“How many sugars is it, Jill?” Grandma asked.
“One and two thirds, please.”
“No problem.”
No problem? Normally, everything was a problem to Grandma.
After placing the tea on the table in front of me, she offered me custard creams.
“Thanks. I’ll just have one. Or two. Or maybe three, thanks.”
“Three it is. Well I have work to do, so I’ll shoot off. Have a lovely day both of you.” With that, Grandma, or whoever this imposter was, left.
I don’t think I’d ever been so stunned. I stared at the cup of tea, and wondered if I dare drink it.
“What’s going on, Aunt Lucy? Has Grandma put something in this tea?”
“No. It’s perfectly safe.” She laughed.
“But what’s happening?”
“You’re never going to believe this, but an old flame of your grandma’s has turned up—his name is Horace. He and Grandma were an item ages ago, but then he more or less disappeared off the face of the earth. He’s been in the human world, apparently. Anyway, he’s back now, and he’s asked Grandma out on a date.”
“Grandma? On a date? Wow!”
***
I was helping out behind the counter in Cuppy C again, and the twins were acting very suspiciously.
Every now and then, they would huddle together, talk in a whisper, and then laugh out loud. Were they talking about me or was I just being paranoid? Either way, I was going to have it out with them.
“Amber, Pearl, do you have a minute?”
“Sure,” Amber said. “What’s up?
“What are you up to?”
“Who? Us?” They both put on their innocent look.
“Yes, you two. Come on, I know something’s going on. Are you talking about me?”
“Why would you think we’re talking about you?” Pearl said.
“Because you’re whispering. You obviously don’t want me to hear what you’re saying.”
“If you must know, we were talking about Grandma.”
“What about her?”
“If we tell you, we’ll have to swear you to secrecy.”
How very cloak and dagger. Now, I was really intrigued. “I won’t tell her. What are you up to?”
“You’ve heard about her old flame, haven’t you?”
“Horace? Yeah. Who’d have thought it? He must be something really special if he’s managed to bring a smile to Grandma’s face.”
“We’re going to spy on her when she has her first date with him,” Pearl whispered.
“Are you two insane?”
“It’ll be fun,” Amber said. “Can you imagine seeing Grandma with a man? It’ll be hilarious.”
“It won’t be hilarious when she catches you.”
“She won’t catch us.”
“Of course she will. She knows everything that we do—sometimes before we do it. You’ve got a short memory. Don’t you remember what she did to you the last time you played a trick on her?”
Both girls touched their ears, no doubt remembering when Grandma had turned them into donkey’s ears.
“It’ll be different this time,” Amber said. “We’ll be more careful.”
“Yeah,” Pearl agreed. “We’ve got it all planned out. We’ll be super careful. If you want to come with us, you can.”
“Definitely not. I don’t have a death-wish even if you two do.”
“It’ll be fun. Come on. Don’t you want to see her snogging Horace?”
Just the thought of it turned my stomach. “No, I don’t. And especially not if it means having donkey’s ears for the rest of my life. You two are on your own. Just don’t come crying to me when she casts a spell on you.”
I’d been hard at it behind the counter for almost two hours.
“Hey, girls. I think it’s time I had a break, don’t you?”
“Okay, go on, Jill,” Pearl said. “You can have ten minutes.”
The twins were still busy plotting their ill-fated spying expedition. I was having no part of it. Would they never learn?
I grabbed a blueberry muffin and a latte, and found myself a seat next to the window. I’d only been there a few minutes when Blaze came through the door; it was unusual to see him without Daze. He spotted me and came over.
“Where’s Daze? Is she okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine. I just sneaked away for a few minutes.” He glanced around as though he thought someone might be listening.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. Look, there’s something I want to run by you, but I’m going to have to swear you to secrecy first.”
What was with all the subterfuge all of a sudden?
“I promise I won’t say anything.”
“Yesterday, I was offered a job by another Rogue Retriever. Her name is Taze.”
“Taze? Wow! So that’s Daze, Haze, Blaze, and now Taze.”
“Yeah, quite a coincidence, isn’t it? She needs a new sidekick. Her previous partner quit to go and work in the bottling factory.”
“Quite the change of career.”
“Taze said she’d heard good things about me. She’s offering more money than Daze pays me, and more importantly, she’s promised that I can have my choice of catsuit; any colour I like—even luminous.”
“You must be flattered.”
“I am. Very much so.”
“Are you going to take her up on the offer?”
“I’m torn. Daze has been very good to me, and I like her a lot, but she’s a bit bossy. You know how she can be, Jill.”
It was true. Daze was very set in her ways, particularly when it came to colours. I’d seen her tear a strip off Blaze for wearing a luminous orange catsuit.
“So, what do you think, Jill?”
“I’m sorry, Blaze, but this is something you’re going to have to decide for yourself.”
“I know, I know. It’s a difficult decision, though. I think I’m going to have to sleep on it. You won’t mention this to Daze, will you?”
�
��No, of course not. I promise.”
“And don’t tell the twins because you know what they’re like. They can’t keep a secret.”
That was true enough.
“My lips are sealed. I won’t tell anyone, but you must let me know what you decide.”
***
It suddenly occurred to me that today was the day Hamlet was expecting his visiting author, Horatio Moore. So, seeing as I’d spent so much money on the new cage, I figured I should call in on them to see what all the fuss was about.
I made my way to the box room, and opened the door as quietly as I could. I didn’t want to disturb a genius at work.
“Jill,” Hamlet said. “Is that you?”
“I hope you don’t mind me popping in. I thought I might listen to Horatio’s reading.”
“You’ve missed him, I’m afraid. He just left.”
“How disappointing.”
“He was very good wasn’t he?” Hamlet addressed the audience. There were at least fifteen hamsters in the cage. They all nodded their approval.
“If I’d realised, I would have come earlier.”
“All is not lost,” Hamlet said. “Horatio did leave behind a few signed copies of his latest hardback—rodent edition of course.”
“Of course.”
“Perhaps you’d like a copy?”
I’d paid for the cage, so why not? At least I would have got something out of the deal. It might be a little bit hard to read because the rodent edition hardback was rather small, but I could always use a magnifying glass.
“That would be very nice, thank you.”
Hamlet passed the tiny book through the bars of the cage. I opened it and sure enough, there was the signature. I was the proud owner of a signed edition of Horatio Moore’s latest novel.
“That’ll be thirty-five pounds please, Jill,” Hamlet said.
“Pardon?”
“For the book. We’ve agreed to send the proceeds onto Horatio. The regular copy is only twenty, but a signed copy is thirty-five.”
“Thirty-five pounds?”
“A bargain, isn’t it?”
“An absolute steal.”
***
Back in my office, I was still trying to get my head around the idea of Grandma going on a date with an old flame. Horace, the new man in her life, certainly seemed to have changed her personality for the better—I wondered how long that would last.
I was trying hard to concentrate on the papers in front of me, but I could barely hear myself think. Winky was on the treadmill again, and seemed to be going faster than ever. His iPod was clipped to the belt around his waist; he had his headphones on, and he was singing at the top of his voice. That cat could not carry a tune—trust me on that one. I thought Betty Longbottom had a horrible voice, but I would take Betty any day of the week over Winky. I couldn’t even tell what he was singing, but whatever it was, he was murdering it.
“Shut up!” I shouted.
He was oblivious. He just kept on running, and singing.
“Stop singing!”
It was hopeless; he was in a world of his own.
It was just too much to bear. I thumped on the desk as hard as I could, and suddenly, a small drawer at the bottom shot open. My father had had the desk for as long as he’d had the office; it was something of an antique. But I’d had absolutely no idea there were hidden drawers in it.
I crouched down, and managed to slide my hand inside to grab hold of the contents, which I dropped onto the desk. A ball of wool? It couldn’t be, could it? I checked the label: midnight blue. The only other items in the drawer were a few small tools.
Then it clicked.
Lock-picking tools! Winky must have used them to get into the linen basket. He had stolen Mrs V’s wool! I was going to kill him!
“What do you call these?” I screamed, but he still couldn’t hear a thing.
Right! I’d had just about enough. I got up from my desk, walked over to the power socket, and turned off the switch. The treadmill stopped dead—but Winky didn’t. He flew straight across the room, bounced off the leather sofa, and came to rest on the floor.
“What are you playing at,” he said, pulling the earphones off. “You nearly killed me!”
I held up the wool and the lock-picking tools. “What do you call these?”
“Whoops!” He looked a little sheepish. “You found them.”
“Yes, I found them.”
“Sorry about that. Just my little joke.”
“I’m going to kill you, Winky.”
He shot under the sofa. Probably just as well or I might have done something I would have regretted later.
I waited until I heard Mrs V pop out to the loo, then called, “Winky, if you don’t want me to kill you, come with me now.”
He knew I meant business, so he followed me through to the outer office.
“Open this lock, quickly.”
I passed him the lock-picking tools, and within seconds he had it open. I dropped the wool inside, and then slammed the linen basket shut, and fastened the lock.
“Give me those tools back,” I demanded.
“But they’re mine.” He backed off.
“Give them to me or you’ll never have salmon again.”
“You’re such a spoilsport.” He handed over the tools.
“Get back in my office. I don’t want to hear another word from you all day.”
“Can’t I go on the treadmill?”
“That’s going back to the shop. Today!”
Chapter 17
The next morning, Mrs V was red in the face, and breathing fire. Something had got her really riled up.
“Whatever is wrong, Mrs V?”
“I’m going to kill him.”
She must have somehow worked out what had happened with the midnight blue wool.
“I’m sure Winky didn’t mean any harm.”
“Not the cat. That reporter, Dougal Bugle.”
“Has he been here?”
“No, and it’s a good thing for him he hasn’t or he’d have one of my knitting needles up his backside.”
“What has he done?”
“Look at this!” She thumped the newspaper which was on her desk.
It was the headline that Dougal had warned me he would print. Slavery alive and well in Washbridge.
“How dare he publish that without at least speaking to me first?” She fumed. “I’m nobody’s slave. I come here because I choose to. I’m well aware that I spend most of the time knitting, but I don’t feel guilty about it because that’s the arrangement you and I have. This is no one’s business other than ours. Did you know he was going to do this, Jill?”
There was no point in lying.
“He doorstepped me the other day, and suggested that he might run the article.”
“And, you didn’t think you should tell me?”
“I thought I’d persuaded him to drop it. I explained what our arrangement was, and that you did it voluntarily. I also told him you spend a considerable amount of time knitting.”
“You should have told me, Jill. I had a right to know.”
“You’re right. I’m really sorry. But it’s Dougal that we should both be angry at.”
“Don’t worry, dear. I know who’s fault this is, and when I get hold of him, I’ll make him regret the day he ever put pen to paper.”
“Where do you think he got the story from, anyway?” I said. “How would he know that you don’t get paid? It’s not like we broadcast it. I mean, Kathy and one or two other people know, but no one who would take it to The Bugle.”
“Come on, Jill. You’re supposed to be the private investigator. Even I know where he got the story from.”
I scratched my chin. I was probably being a little slow. But then the penny dropped.
“Armitage.”
“Of course it’s Armitage. Who else? I may have made the mistake of mentioning it to some of his staff who come around here for knitting lessons. But only in a jo
key kind of way. I wasn’t complaining. You know me—I’m perfectly happy with our arrangement.”
“And you think one of them might have told Gordon Armitage?”
“It’s possible. I doubt they would have done it maliciously. Perhaps they were talking amongst themselves, and he overheard?”
Mrs V was right. My money was on Armitage.
“There’s nothing we can do about it now,” I said. “We’ll just have to forget about it. It’ll be tomorrow’s fish and chip paper.”
“You might be prepared to forget about it, but I’m certainly not. Dougal Andrews and Gordon Armitage have a lot to answer for.”
***
My phone rang; it was Daze.
“Ma Chivers is in Washbridge right now. She’s been seen close to the bus station.”
“Okay. I’ll get over there straight away.”
“I still think I should be the one to follow her, Jill.”
“No, I’ve got this. I’ll call you if I need any help.”
“Just be careful.”
Ma Chivers wasn’t difficult to spot. She was the biggest and ugliest woman in the vicinity. I followed her at a distance, and when she entered the Fleur Hotel, I gave her a few seconds and then did likewise. She took the lift, so I cast the ‘faster’ spell, and headed straight for the staircase. On each level, I checked to see if she’d got out of the lift. On the seventh floor, she did. At the end of the corridor, she took a right. I set off in pursuit, but then suddenly the door to one of the rooms on my right, flew open in front of me.
“What are you doing here?” a familiar, but unwelcome, voice said.
It was Alicia, and next to her, as though joined at the hip, was Cyril.
“I—err—want to speak to Ma Chivers.”
“That’s Mrs Chivers to you,” Alicia spat the words. “Why do you want to speak to her?”
“I’ve had a change of heart. I want to take her up on her offer to tutor me.”
“I don’t believe you. You’re a liar!”
“Whereas you, of course, are as honest as the day is long? Particularly when you’re poisoning someone?”
“You’ve made one mistake too many, Gooder. You’re not going to see Ma Chivers. In fact, you’re not going to see tomorrow.” She raised her hand, and I knew she was about to cast a spell.
