Bottling It

by A. A. Albright

  8.Dudley’s Witch

  I’d come up with all sorts of plans for how I could force Dudley into a bath. But as I filled the sink in my en suite with warm water and bubble bath, it was clear that I needn’t have bothered with the internal scheming.

  Dudley, who I’d housed on the little chair by the window (a window which I had immediately opened wide), was opening up his case. First, he removed a tiny bar of soap. Next came his scrubbing brush, towel, and a rubber duck.

  ‘I was worried about coming to live with you, but I see I needn’t have been,’ he called into the bathroom. ‘Maureen was right. You’re not as stupid as you look.’

  I goggled at him through the open adjoining door. ‘Maureen? O’Mara?’

  He gave me a gummy grin. ‘Ah, so she did get to meet you before she was murdered. She was worried she might not get the chance. She even had the two of us split up so we’d increase our chances of explaining things to you before she got killed. That was very rude of you, by the way. Ignoring me the way you did in the hotel toilets.’

  I couldn’t decide where to begin. ‘Ignoring you? I didn’t even hear you, so how could I ignore you?’

  Dudley twirled one of his whiskers and glowered at me. ‘Liar. I even waved at you to get your attention. And you had your power by then. Only just, but still.’

  ‘Did I? I suppose I must have, seeing as I found my way into a witch enclave without my pendant on. But I really didn’t hear you. Maybe it’s not all coming at once. My power, I mean.’ I turned off the tap. Any more water and he’d drown. ‘Look, go back a bit. How did you know Maureen O’Mara? And … did she know she’d be murdered?’

  ‘Listen, I’m happy to answer all of your questions. That’s what I’m here for. But can you please hurry up and get me into my bath? Maureen gave me six a day, you know. So get me in there, and while I give myself a good scrub I’ll tell you everything.’

  I lifted him into the sink. It would suit us both if he were in pleasant-smelling water while we spoke.

  ‘Maureen was my witch,’ he explained as he soaped up his patchy fur. ‘That’s what she always said. Never that I was her familiar. Always that she was my witch. She understood things, you see, did Maureen. She knew how things really were and she didn’t need to fool anyone, including herself. We grew old together. Got dentures together. The whole shebang.’ Was that a tear, I wondered, or just a splash of water below his eye? ‘Speaking of dentures, you’ll need to pick my new ones up. Unless you want me talking through my gums for the rest of our time together.’ He had begun to use his scrubbing brush now. Little bits of fur came loose in the water while he worked. It was as fascinating as it was gross.

  ‘You know,’ he said while he pushed his rubber ducky with a toe, ‘I wanted nothing more than to die with her. That’s the usual way, isn’t it? Grow old with your witch. Die together. But Maureen wouldn’t have it. She said you were the next Wayfarer. That you’d find her murderer and send them to Witchfield. And once I’d helped you do that, then I could finally join her in the afterlife.’

  I shuddered. I might have established a certain wilful ignorance when it came to the witching world, but even I knew about our infamous prison, Witchfield. ‘Wait. The next Wayfarer? There already are Wayfarers. Well, Wayfairs, anyway. My whole coven are Wayfairs.’

  ‘No.’ He was soaping himself all over again. I could understand why it would take more than one going over. Already, he was smelling better. Not smelling good yet. Just better. ‘They’re Wayfairs, yes. But not Wayfarers. Not like you. I mean, don’t misunderstand me. They’re very good at what they do. Your mother, especially, is so good that she’s made a lot of powerful enemies. But you … well you’re like the original Wanda. You already have one of her magical talents. It won’t be long before you get the rest.’

  ‘Wanda? As in Wanda the Wayfarer? My ancestor Wanda? My inappropriate namesake, Wanda? How am I like her? I mean, how would you even know? No one knows. It’s all stories and legends at this stage. No one knows the truth about how she caught so many criminals. It’s all lost in the annals of time or whatever.’

  ‘Maureen knew. Some of it, anyway. That was why she wanted to share a room with you. So she could fill you in on it all.’

  He was scrubbing again. I thought he couldn’t possibly lose any more fur. Apparently I was wrong.

  ‘That makes no sense,’ I argued, thinking about the last time I saw Maureen alive. She’d told me to look in the paper. In it, I’d learned about the murders. I’d also found this room at an extremely cheap price. Now that I thought about it, I was sure that there was magic behind me finding this houseshare. A mysterious breeze flipping the paper to just the right page? I mean, come on. ‘I think Maureen wanted me to live here, Dudley. She didn’t want me at the hotel.’

  ‘You’re right. She helped you find this house. But that was Plan B, so to speak. Plan A was for you to share a room so she could tell you everything. But she had a vision in the hotel, just before you left to catch your bus. She foresaw that she was going to be murdered very soon. So we went our separate ways to try and get your attention – I tried to talk to you in the loo, while Maureen headed for the bus stop. There was never going to be enough time to explain everything, so she did what she thought was most important – she kept you safe.’

  He’d run out of soap, and I passed him another tiny bar. ‘What do you mean? Keep me safe? You said she envisioned her murder. Not mine.’

  ‘Yes, but she only knew she was going to be killed. She didn’t know where. She was afraid it might happen in the hotel room, and that you might get caught in the crossfire, so to speak. She couldn’t risk that. So she had that guy throw his paper your way, hoping you’d rent this room. And you did. Now that she’s dead …’ He paused and sniffled. ‘N-now that she’s gone, it turns out she was right about everything. About what you are. That’s why I’m here. To fill you in on what you need to do.’

  ‘And what is it then? That I need to do?’ I almost didn’t want to know the answer.

  ‘You already know. You need to catch her killer. For a short while, I shall be your familiar. But you’re not my witch. Maureen was. I’m only here with you to help you find the beast who killed her. She suspected it would be that way, just like it was with Wanda. It’s only the first of the Wayfarer’s talents you’ve inherited, and it won’t be the last. But it might be the most helpful talent of all. If Maureen was right – which clearly she was – then you’ll have the familiars of a whole lot of murdered witches come to you over the course of your life. They’ll stay with you for a short time, help you find whoever killed their witch. And then they’ll leave you.’

  My head was beginning to hurt. This was all too much to take in. ‘But then … why are you the only familiar who’s come to me? Maureen wasn’t the only murder victim.’

  He held out his paw and I handed him yet another tiny bar of soap. ‘Don’t ask me. Maureen was the expert. Maybe because all the murders are connected you only get one witness?’

  Fine, I thought, but did it have to be the smelliest one? ‘And were you? A witness? Did you actually see who killed her?’

  ‘No.’ He hung his little ratty head. For a moment, I almost found him adorable. ‘But it wouldn’t have been much help if I did, would it? The murderers aren’t really the murderers are they? I mean, you have figured out that much at least?’

  I cleared my throat. I no longer found him adorable. If anything, he was a smart-arse. ‘Of course. Of course I have.’ It was true. I had. I’d just temporarily forgotten. Not dumb. Just ditzy. ‘I just meant, you know … did you see anyone over the last few days that you and Maureen thought could be behind it all?’

  ‘No one. Can I have my towel, please?’ He held out his arms. Or his front legs. You know what I mean. ‘But I am going to help you find out who it was. Because the sooner we catch whoever killed my witch, the sooner I can die and be with her again.’

  9.Privileged

  Dudley and I didn’t go to sleep a
fter his bath. We spent the entire night talking, instead. Of all the slumber parties I’ve had, it was by far the strangest. And after getting no sleep whatsoever, the last thing I needed was to be up at the crack of dawn. But I wasn’t going to let a little exhaustion stop me. When I told my mother I was staying here, I hadn’t told her the whole reason why. Yes, I thought it would be unfair to leave Max stuck finding another housemate. But it would be even more unfair to leave him unpunished for yesterday’s trick.

  I sat, bleary-eyed, on a chair close to the back door. Right on cue, just as the sun was rising, the door opened, and an enormous, shaggy mutt sauntered in.

  ‘Good morning,’ I said sweetly. ‘Nice to see you again.’

  The dog skittered to a stop and stared at me. ‘Oh. You’re up early. Again.’

  ‘Well, of course I am. Seemed like the only chance I was going to get to speak with you. Seeing as you’re such an early riser yourself.’

  ‘Oh. Brilliant.’ The dog’s eyes took on a slightly pained look. They were changing before my gaze. Whites around the edges, where once they’d been all brown. The legs seemed to be growing longer, too. ‘What did you … what did you want to talk to me about?’

  ‘Well everything, of course.’ I shot him my most winning smile. ‘I mean, that’s what witches do with their familiars, isn’t it? Share secrets and gossip all day long? And my period’s due in a couple of days, so I’d really love to curl up under a blanket and have a good gossip. I get the worst cramps, you know, and even worse pre-menstrual stress, so I really need someone to talk to about it. Maybe we could share a jumbo bar of chocolate while we’re at it. Oh, but I’m on my way to work now, so you’ll have to come with me so we can chat in the meantime. I could get you a lead and collar along the way. Or I could accessorize you, if you liked – you know, have you charmed into a piece of jewellery so you can go everywhere with me. I saw a witch at the Hilltop Hotel who wears her cat as a brooch. It’s sooooo lush.’

  ‘Em … well … I … that sounds lovely. B-but I have to go to the d-dentist this morning. The doggie dentist. Yes. And then …’

  I let him stutter out a few more excuses, wondering how long he would last. His paws were changing as I watched. His toes were growing fatter and less hairy. His tail was shrinking, too. How long more could I let him suffer?

  ‘Oh, just go ahead and change, Max.’

  His eyes widened. Whether I’d told him to change or not hardly mattered, because it was happening in front of my eyes. Before I knew it, my new housemate was standing tall in front of me. His hands went to cover up his manhood – thankfully, I’d averted my eyes in anticipation, and had seen nothing at all – while his face turned puce. I pulled a bathrobe out from behind my chair and tossed it his way.

  ‘You’re a weredog,’ I said while he pulled the robe on.

  ‘I am.’ His face was still bright red. ‘But I mean … I assumed you knew when you moved in. But then you acted like you hadn’t got a clue that Westerly was an other enclave. And then when I saw you so scared to find me in the kitchen yesterday morning, I panicked. I said the first thing that sprang to my mind. It’s kind of funny. When you think about it.’

  I narrowed my eyes. ‘Hilarious. Seeing as I’m Wanda Wayfair. Unempowered. The witch with no magic and no familiar. What a funny joke, Max. Make poor, powerless Wanda believe she might just have some power after all. Because if she has a familiar, then she must be coming into her magic, right? That’s not a cruel trick at all. Right?’

  His eyes rounded. ‘N-No! I mean … I didn’t mean it that way. You were terrified when you heard me speak. And then I remembered something I’d heard about you. That you didn’t spend any time in the supernatural enclaves. So I figured I’d scared the life out of you and I’d better calm you down. That’s all it was. That’s all I meant. I wasn’t teasing you about not having magic, Wanda. Believe me. I mean, let’s face it. Weredogs are hardly in a position to make fun of witches, now are they? Even unempowered ones.’

  I kept a scowl in place. He seemed genuine enough, I supposed. But the truth was I didn’t know much about weredogs at all. I knew that they changed into dogs for three nights out of every month, when the moon was full. And I knew that, despite all evidence to the contrary, they were absolutely and in no way related to werewolves. Both the werewolves and the weredogs were very insistent on that point.

  ‘Well.’ I stood up, taking my keys and bag from the kitchen table. ‘I have to get off to work now. I suppose we can talk more later. Your cousin? Is she one too?’

  He nodded. ‘She’s still away, though. Look, the full moon is over for this month, so I can finally give you a proper welcome to the house, if you like. I’ll take you out for dinner. Or order in. Whichever you prefer.’

  ‘Maybe.’ I turned for the door. ‘Oh, and by the way, there’s a rat in my room. He’s supposed to be here. He’s my pet. So try not to eat him.’

  ≈

  During our talk the night before, Dudley and I had agreed that my mother was probably right. Acting like I was still unempowered was a good idea. It would make people lower their defences around me. So with that in mind, I was leaving him behind for the day. And I was also, for the first time in quite a while, wearing my Pendant of Privilege.

  I wasn’t a particularly sexy dresser. I kept my shirts buttoned fairly high, and I rarely wore low-cut tops. Not because I was shy. It was a throwback to my earlier years. On the occasions when I had to wear my Pendant of Privilege as a child, I did my very best to hide it. Most people knew I was unempowered, but at least I wasn’t giving them a great big shiny reminder. Even though I rarely wore it these days, the old habit of high necks had been a hard one to break.

  Today, though, I was wearing my pendant loud and proud. And, if you’ve ever seen a Pendant of Privilege, you’ll know that I mean it when I describe it as loud. Loud, garish, tacky … take your pick. Whoever designed these things did not want the unempowered to blend into the crowd.

  The chain was long and thick, and always put me in mind of paperclips – except that it was a bright, yellowish gold. The pendant itself was round, made of the same yellowish gold with an enormous green stone at its centre. Not a pretty emerald shade of green. Not the colour of jade, nor of fresh green grass. No. Because any of those would have been far too nice for the likes of the unempowered (Do I sound bitter? I need to watch that.). This green was the colour of snot. Literally. The dark green snot of a bad infection.

  So today I matched my oh-so-subtle pendant with a low-cut blouse that was a nice shade of minty green. I teamed both with a knee-length black skirt and a pair of pretty but not-too-teetery (all words had to get invented sometime, right?) black shoes. I looked almost presentable. You know, as long as you ignored the monstrosity hanging around my neck.

  When I turned the company van into the carpark at Berrys’ Bottlers, I hoped to be the first one to arrive. Unfortunately, it seemed like the rest of the work force had an unhealthy attitude towards their job – everyone else was early too.

  Grumbling beneath my breath, I made my way inside. There were people everywhere. I’d never be able to grab a bottle unnoticed. So I clumped up the stairs to what I’d been told was the accounting office, and hoped I’d get a chance later on.

  ‘Ah, Wanda.’ A short, bald, rotund man fixed me with a friendly grin and outstretched his hand. ‘I’m Mike. Senior accountant for the Berrys. You’ll be working with me today.’ He nodded to a mini fridge next to the door. ‘Plenty of drinks in there if you’re thirsty.’ He took out a bottle of Berry Good Go juice and held it up. ‘Would you like one? It’s hot today, isn’t it?’

  Well, that was easier than I thought. I grabbed the bottle and thanked him, trying to hide my relief.

  Mike seemed lovely, to say the least. He was definitely approaching retirement age, and he had the rings beneath his eyes to prove that he was more than ready to say goodbye to the work life. But despite his tiredness, he was a patient teacher, showing me everything I needed to k
now about their accounts.

  ‘Your final exam’s this Friday?’ he asked when we’d gotten to the end of the wage run, and the printer was finally chugging out the wage slips.

  ‘It is. I’ll finally be fully qualified.’

  ‘Well …’ He moved his chair closer to mine. ‘… once you are, I have a cousin who’s looking for an accountant. It’s in the office of a sewage plant but … I mean, anywhere’s got to be better than here.’

  I blinked. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘I shouldn’t be saying this,’ he whispered. ‘But the Berrys will eat you alive, Wanda. I do everything for them. Not just here. The coven have more companies than they can count. Here and in the supernatural enclaves. And I have to do the accounts for every single one. Not only that, but the coven have me doing some pretty unsavoury things. To be honest, I’m surprised they’re letting me retire in one piece, what with all the dirt I have on them.’

  ‘I thought … I thought you were human.’

  ‘I am,’ he said, pulling out a chain from beneath his shirt. It was a pendant, just like mine. ‘I wasn’t sure if you knew what they were, but seeing as they’ve given you a pendant too, you must do. They’re obviously preparing you to take over from me after I retire. And you seem like such a nice young girl, Wanda. You can do better. I mean, do you even know how difficult it is to get your head around their kinds of currency? Do you? And I’m not talking about those weird coins. I mean sure, they take some getting used to, but the other stuff? Have you heard of some of the ways they barter?’

  I shook my head, swallowing. ‘No. No, I can’t say that I know about any of that.’ That much was true. I’d left home before I had to deal with anything so practical in the witch world. I’d have to ask my mother about bartering systems later. Right now, I had more important questions for Mike. ‘So they’re shady, then? I was worried about that. But I really need this job and they’re paying me well. If I’m going to leave the company, then I need a good reason. Specifics. Like … what’s this dirt that you have on them?’