by Adele Abbott
I went downstairs, and checked in the back for deliveries. The twins had managed to unload them before they went to bed, but they still needed to be put out. To fortify myself for the day ahead, I helped myself to a small blueberry muffin.
What? It was going to be a busy day; I would need the calories. And besides, it was payment in kind, in advance.
By the time I’d finished putting out all the cakes and pastries, I was ready for a sit down. But then I noticed there were a few people outside the door, waving to me. I’d totally forgotten about the customers. Silly me. I pulled off the temporary ‘Closed’ notice, unlocked the door and let them in.
“Where are the twins?” A young wizard said.
“Amber and Pearl are poorly today. I’m running the tea room.”
“Are you their cousin Jill?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, dear.” He laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“The twins told me about you. I was going to have one of their new lattes, but perhaps I ought to stick with something simple.”
Cheek of the man! I could make fancy lattes.
Within moments of opening, there was a queue stretching from the counter all the way back to the door. Oh, dear. This was going to be a long day. Still, I could cope.
What could possibly go wrong?
***
What a morning! I’d never stopped. My legs and back were aching, and I had a blinding headache. I’d been desperate for a pee for the best part of an hour, and in the end, I’d had to ask the next person in the queue to wait while I rushed upstairs. I couldn’t hear any sound from the twins’ bedrooms. They must have been fast asleep. I just hoped they appreciated all the work I was doing. Running Cuppy C all by myself was no joke. At least there was one assistant working in the cake shop or it would have been absolutely impossible.
There had been a queue all morning. I wasn’t sure if that was because it was busier than usual or if I was just really, really slow. It wasn’t just a matter of trying to serve everyone; I had to clear the tables, and load the dishwasher. I’d run out of cups at one point. It was beyond a joke.
Then, to top it all, there were all the complaints:
“I asked for two shots, not one.”
“I asked for skinny, not whole milk.”
“I just like to moan—blah, blah and even more blah.”
What’s the matter with people? I don’t know why they need to be so particular over their drinks. What do you mean? Precision with sugar is an entirely different matter.
I was absolutely starving. There I was, handing out delicious muffins to all and sundry, and I hadn’t had so much as a crumb to eat since first thing that morning. I wasn’t sure I was going to make it through to the end of the day.
By three o’clock, I could see a light at the end of the tunnel. The queue had gone, and there were only a few customers in the shop. I actually managed to grab another muffin, but I had to eat it on the go.
What if the twins were still poorly tomorrow? Would they expect me to do this all over again? I didn’t think I could. It would kill me. Maybe some of their assistants would be in by then.
After this, the twins had better not say that I was hopeless behind the counter ever again.
“Hi, Jill.”
“Oh? Hi, Hilary.” I’d been so preoccupied that I hadn’t seen Hilary from Love Spell walk in.
“How did your date go?”
“Don’t ask.”
“Oh dear. What went wrong?”
“You remember James Keeper’s profile didn’t show his occupation?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I discovered what he does.” I lowered my voice so no one else could hear. “He’s a grim reaper.”
“No!”
“Yes! Jim Keeper, the grim reaper. Well, Tim actually.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Does it look like I’m kidding?”
“I’m so sorry, Jill. I don’t know how he slipped through. I’ll have him removed from our books immediately.”
“It’s okay. I can laugh about it now, but I didn’t think it was funny at the time. Anyway, it looks like you’ve been shopping.”
She was laden with carrier bags from designer boutiques, shoe shops and various department stores.
“Yeah, well it is Premium Day.”
“What’s that?”
“Haven’t you heard of it?”
“I can’t say I have.”
“It’s a really big deal here in Candlefield. Lots of retailers hold huge sales on Premium Day. The date is never announced in advance—nobody knows what day it’s going to take place until the night before.”
“So it’s not on the same day every year?”
“No. That’s the whole point. Every year the retailers pick a date, but they keep it secret, and only announce it around nine o’clock on the previous evening. Then everybody goes wild. You should get down there, Jill. There are some real bargains to be had. The whole town centre is absolutely buzzing.”
“Chance would be a fine thing. I’m busy running this place by myself.”
“I guessed as much when I saw Pearl and Amber in the shoe shop. I thought—”
“Hang on. Just rewind. When you did what?”
“When I saw Pearl and Amber. They were trying on shoes.”
“When was this?”
“A couple of hours ago, I guess.”
“You saw Pearl and Amber a couple of hours ago, trying on shoes?”
“Yeah. Didn’t they ask you to go with them?”
“No. Funnily enough, they didn’t.”
I served Hilary with a drink and a muffin, and then marched upstairs. When I pulled back the duvet on Amber’s bed, there were two pillows stuffed underneath it. Next door, in Pearl’s bedroom, it was the same story.
Those conniving little so-and-so’s. They must have found out that it was Premium Day late last night, realised they had no one to run Cuppy C, and come up with a plot to get me to cover for them. If they’d said they wanted to go shopping, I’d have probably refused. By pretending to be poorly, they’d played on my good nature, and conned me into doing it. I couldn’t believe it.
Just wait until they got back. I’d make them pay for this.
***
The twins were still not back when it was time to close Cuppy C, so I cashed up, but didn’t hang around. If I had, I might have regretted my actions. Instead, I just left them both identical notes, pinned to their pillows: Revenge will be sweet.
Before going home, I called in at the office. Unusually, Mrs V wasn’t at her desk; she’d left a note to say she had a dental appointment. Winky was fast asleep, and didn’t stir.
I was still fuming about the trick the twins had pulled on me. They were going to get theirs—oh yeah!
The room suddenly became a little colder—something that usually happened just before my mother made an appearance.
“Mum?”
There was no sign of her.
Then the chair in front of my desk swivelled a little to the left.
“Mum? Are you there?”
The voice made me jump back in my seat. It wasn’t my mother—it was a man’s voice, but it was very faint.
“Alberto?”
“Jill?”
The voice was so quiet that I could only just make it out. It didn’t sound like Alberto, and yet it was curiously familiar.
“Jill?”
It was a little louder this time. And now I recognised it.
“Colonel?”
“Jill, can you see me?”
“No.”
“How about now?”
“Still no.”
“I’ll never master this stupid ‘attaching’ business. How about now?”
And there he was—hovering above the chair opposite me. It was definitely the colonel, but a slightly younger version than the one I’d known.
“I can see you. It’s so wonderful to have you back.”
“I
t’s good to be back. I never used to believe in ghosts, but I’m jolly glad I was wrong. I hope you don’t mind me attaching myself to you—I don’t really have any family. At least none I want to see again.”
“What about Mrs Burnbridge?”
“I think the shock would kill her.” He laughed. “You don’t seem too fazed, though.”
“You aren’t my first ghost.”
“That’s good then. Look, I can’t stay long. I find all this exhausting. I just wanted to thank you for helping the police to find out who did this to me.”
“I’m sorry it turned out to be Ben.”
“Me too, but rather that than have an innocent man like Peter locked up.”
“How are you settling in GT?”
“I see you have all the lingo down.” He laughed. “Okay, so far. There are an awful lot of pretty lady ghosts. Not that I’ve noticed, obviously.”
“Obviously.”
Just then, I heard the outer office door open.
“Sounds like you have a visitor,” the colonel said. “I’d better be off. Thanks again, Jill. I’ll pop in from time to time if that’s okay with you?”
“Of course. Don’t be a stranger.”
Chapter 25
“Are you talking to yourself again?” Grandma said, as she burst into my office.
“If you must know, I was talking to Colonel Briggs. Or at least his ghost.”
“Just be careful you don’t allow too many ghosts to attach themselves to you. If you get a reputation for being an easy touch, they’ll be queuing up to waste your time. There’s nothing more boring than ghost chit chat. Ghost Town this, Ghost Town that, blah, blah, blah.”
“The colonel was a good friend. I was pleased to see him again.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Did you want something in particular, Grandma, or is this just a social call?”
“I don’t do social calls. My time is much too precious. I came to tell you that I’ve put your name down for the Compass competition.”
“The what?”
“Is there something wrong with your hearing? The Compass competition.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s an annual competition for witches. There are four teams based upon the four quadrants of the compass: The North, which is us, the South, the West, and the East. I’ve put your name down to be in the North team.”
“But I’m only a level three witch. What can I do?”
“The competition is for level three witches and above. You’ll be competing against level three witches from the other quadrants. The North has won the competition for the last two years, and we expect to win it again. Needless to say, I am the captain of the North team.”
“How many competitions are there? I mean, there’s the Levels competition and the Elite competition, and now there’s—what’s it called again?”
Grandma sighed. “The Compass competition. It isn’t difficult to remember. That’s why the teams are North, South, West, and East.”
“Are there any other competitions?”
“The three you just mentioned are the main ones. There are others, but they’re for the other sups.”
“Is there a competition which includes all the sups?”
“There used to be one. It ran for many years, but hasn’t been held for twenty years or more.”
“Why’s that?”
“You ask a lot of questions. There’s a natural rivalry between different kinds of sups. For the most part, it’s kept under control in day-to-day life, but during the competitions, the worst elements can bubble to the surface. It became too dangerous.”
“What was that competition called?”
“The Valour.” Grandma was growing impatient. “Enough of the history lesson. That competition is dead and buried. I doubt we’ll see the likes of it again. You need to focus on the Compass. I expect you to put in a lot of practise over the coming days to make sure you’re ready for it.”
“When is it?”
“A week on Saturday.”
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I shouldn’t have to. You should make it your business to keep abreast of Candlefield news and events.”
“I check the notice board in Cuppy C regularly.”
“Oh, well, that’s okay then.” Grandma shook her head in obvious exasperation. “Because that is obviously the centre of the universe in terms of news and current affairs. What about reading The Candle, for a start?”
“I don’t read many newspapers. I generally check the news online.”
“There is no online in Candlefield. You’d better start to read the papers, talk to people, and find out what’s happening. If you ever want to be a level six witch, then you need to act like a witch, not like a human who is only there on vacation.”
“Okay, sorry. I’ll start to read The Candle. What sort of spells should I practise?”
“Oh dearie, dearie me. How many times do I have to tell you? Once you get to level three, it’s not about practising individual spells. It’s about spell selection, and adapting spells to meet your particular need. Have you already forgotten what happened when we went underground in the Range?”
“Of course not. Look, I’m wearing the pendant.”
“You got that because you made it through the obstacle course, and you did that because you selected the correct spells. That’s precisely what the Compass competition will require of you. Don’t waste your time practising individual spells. You already know them off by heart, or at least you should. Think more about how to focus on those spells, and how to adapt them for the situation. The Compass competition is not going to be easy. Don’t think you can just turn up and expect to win. You’ll need to put in hours of practise beforehand.”
“How many others will be on our team?”
“There are four members in each team.”
“Just four?”
“One for each of the levels. You will be our representative at level three.”
“But that’s crazy. I’ve only just moved up to that level. There must be lots of more experienced level three witches in the North quadrant.”
“Are you questioning your captain’s team selection?”
“No, but—”
“Good. Just make sure you don’t let me down.”
With that, she disappeared.
Oh bum!
***
After yet another crazy day, I was glad to be going home. I just wanted to get back to the flat, and have a quiet night in by myself. Just me, a good book and a few custard creams. I had to make sure I didn’t bump into Mr Ivers or Betty Longbottom; I couldn’t cope with either of them today.
“Jill!”
The voice caught me by surprise. It wasn’t Mr Ivers and it wasn’t Betty Longbottom, but it was somebody who I would quite gladly have never seen again: Dougal Andrews from The Bugle, or as I preferred to think of him, Dougal Bugle.
“What do you want, Dougal?”
“Nice to see you, too, Jill. It’s been a while. I thought you might be missing me.”
“Yeah. Like the plague.”
“That’s not very nice.”
“Did you want something?”
“Just a few moments of your time, if that’s possible.”
“It’s not possible. Not now, not ever. I’ve told you before, I won’t be doing any more interviews for your rag after the way you misrepresented what I said last time.”
“Are you still harping on about that? Time to let it go. That’s history, now. No one even cares.”
“I care. You promised the article wouldn’t be a hatchet job on the police, and that I’d be able to see it before it was published. It was, and you didn’t. We’re done.” I tried to push past him, but he blocked my way.
“If you don’t get out of my way, Dougal, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
“You’re not threatening me, are you?”
“I’m not threatening; I’m promis
ing.”
“Look, the reason I’m here is that we’re going to be running an article in the morning, and out of courtesy, I thought I should give you the chance to comment before it’s published.”
I didn’t like the sound of this, not one bit. “What article is that?”
“I think you’ll like the headline: Slavery is alive and well in Washbridge.”
Slavery? What did I know about modern day slavery, and why would he want my comments? “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dougal. Get out of the way. I’ve had a hard day.”
“That’s disappointing because you are actually the focus of the article.”
“What do I have to do with slavery?”
“According to my sources, your P.A, Mrs Annabel Versailles, is forced to work for you without any pay. I’d call that slavery. What would you call it?”
I could feel my blood pressure rising. I wanted to kill the man. To tear his head off and kick it around the floor.
“That’s rubbish. Where did you get your information from?”
“You should know by now that a newspaper reporter never reveals his sources. So, would you care to comment?”
“Yeah, here’s a comment for you. You’re ugly, overweight and have bad breath. And you can quote me on that.”
***
Back in my flat, my head was still buzzing with thoughts of the Compass competition. I was nervous, but excited too. I’d done well in the Levels, but that was an individual competition where the only person I could let down was myself. The Compass competition was a whole different ball game. This was a team event, so if I messed up, I would be letting the whole team down. And that wouldn’t go down well with the team captain.
No pressure then.
As I studied my reflection in the mirror, I took hold of the pendant which I wore around my neck every day with a sense of pride. Suddenly, the strangest sensation passed through my body—an icy shiver which chilled me to the bone.
That’s when I heard the voice.
“You will take it to a new level.”
