by Adele Abbott
“Would you like a drink, Mrs Brownling?” Mrs V asked.
“Not for me, thanks.” She turned to me. “Thank you for seeing me, Ms Gooder. You must be extremely busy.”
“Oh, yes. Very. Won’t you take a seat?”
“Thank you.” She removed her coat and fingerless gloves. “Do you do much work in connection with missing people, Ms Gooder?”
“Please call me Jill.”
“Okay, and you must call me Sophie.”
“I’ve worked on a few missing person cases. Is that why you’re here today?”
“Yes, it’s my daughter, Angie Potts.”
“When did she go missing?”
“Twenty years ago, tomorrow.”
I hadn’t seen that one coming. “Twenty years?”
“It feels like a hundred.”
“It must do. I have to ask, why come to me now? After all this time?”
“You’re my last hope. The police gave up looking a long time ago.”
“Are you sure about that? They rarely close the case on a missing person until—” I caught myself just in time.
“Until they find a body? It’s okay. I realise that’s probably the best outcome I can expect, but at least that would give me some kind of closure. As for the police, they say that the case is still on-going, but they’re not doing anything to find Angie. Don’t get me wrong. I understand that they have limited resources, and it makes sense to utilise those on cases which might still have a positive outcome, but that doesn’t help me.”
“I have to be honest with you, Sophie. After such a long time, the chances of me finding anything are remote.”
“I understand that, and I won’t hold it against you if you don’t come up with anything, but some hope is better than none. Do you think you’ll be able to fit it around your existing workload?”
“It won’t be easy, but I’m sure I’ll manage.”
“Thank you so much. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
“I take it your daughter is married?”
“No. Why?”
“She doesn’t have the same surname as you.”
“Oh, right. No. that’s because I remarried, but Angie kept her birth name.”
“I see. Can you talk me through what happened on the day your daughter disappeared?”
“I still remember it as though it was yesterday. Angie had just turned twenty. She was a quiet girl, and was still living at home with me and her stepfather, Lionel. Her real dad died when she was thirteen. Lionel and I got together when Angie was fifteen.”
“Did they get along okay?”
“For the most part, but they were never what you would call close. On the night she disappeared, Angie had been on a night out with three of her girlfriends. The others made it home okay, but Angie never came back.”
“A night out? Where had they been?”
“It was one of her friends’ twentieth birthday. They went out for a meal, and then for drinks around the town centre. At the end of the night, they went their separate ways.”
“Why didn’t they travel home together?”
“They lived in different areas in and around Washbridge.”
“When did you realise something was wrong?”
“When it got to three o’ clock in the morning. I never slept when Angie was out late; I couldn’t settle until I heard her come in. She was never later than two o’clock, and that was only if they went on to a nightclub.”
“Had they been to a club that night?”
“No. It was a weekday, so they called it a night just after eleven, but I wasn’t aware of that. At three o’ clock, I woke Lionel; he went to look for her while I called the police. That’s when the nightmare began.” Sophie put her bag on my desk, and took out a box file. “There’s every press cutting since the time she disappeared in here. It might be best if I left this with you, so you can go through it.”
“Thanks. That will be very helpful.”
“If you have any questions, just get in touch. My number and email address are on the side of the box.”
As soon as Sophie Brownling had walked out of my office, Winky jumped onto my desk.
“Phone!” he demanded.
“What’s the magic word?”
“Now!”
“What were you doing on there, anyway? You seemed to be very engrossed.”
“Are you going to give it to me, or do I have to report you to the Cats Protection League?”
“And say what? That I wouldn’t let you have your phone? That, I have to see.”
He obviously had no intention of telling me what he was up to, so I let him have his phone back.
Just then, my phone rang; it was Aunt Lucy.
“Jill, are you busy?”
“Not particularly.”
“I’m shopping in Candlefield at the moment. Could we meet in Cuppy C?”
“Sure. I’m feeling a little peckish anyway. I’ll meet you, there.”
“Peckish?” Winky laughed.
“And what’s so funny about that?”
“You’re always eating. I reckon you must have worms.”
“I do not have worms; I just have a healthy appetite. And besides, everything I eat is perfectly healthy.”
“Really? So, what will you be having to eat at Cuppy C?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ll more than likely have blueberries.”
“And these blueberries? What form will they take?”
“I don’t have time for idle chit-chat with you. Why don’t you make yourself useful, and clean up some of the cat hairs in here?”
I magicked myself over to Cuppy C.
“Stupid cats!”
“Sorry?” Amber looked confused.
“Nothing, it’s just that cat of mine. He’s driving me insane.”
“Right. What can I get for you?”
“Do you have any blueberries?”
“Only those inside the muffins.”
“I suppose they will have to do.”
What? I tried, didn’t I?
“Have you told Jill our big news?” Pearl had come through from the cake shop.
“It would be big news if you two didn’t have big news for once. What is it this time?”
“We’re going to host a book signing here on Friday.”
“That’s certainly different. Who’s the author?”
“Tammy Winestock.”
“Not the Tammy Winestock? Never heard of her.”
“Never heard of Tammy Winestock?” Amber said. “Are you being serious?”
“Deadly. Should I have?”
“She’s famous.” Pearl produced a book from under the counter. “Look!”
The title of the book was ‘101 Winning Recipes’.
“It’s been in the bestseller charts for over a year,” Amber said. “And she’s just published her follow-up book: ‘Another 101 Winning Recipes’.”
“Imaginative name.”
“This place is going to be packed.” Pearl looked very pleased with herself. “I’m not sure how we’re going to accommodate everyone.”
“Maybe you could get Tammy to sit next to the drive-thru serving hatch, and have people queue in the alleyway to get their books signed.”
If looks could kill, I would have been stone dead.
“We don’t talk about the serving hatch,” Pearl snapped.
“Sorry. Just my little joke.”
Fortunately, Aunt Lucy arrived before the twins had a chance to tear me limb from limb.
“Sorry I’m late, Jill. I met Jessica Hillslope. That woman could talk the hind legs off an ostrich.”
Huh?
“That’s okay. The twins were just telling me about the book signing they’ve organised.”
“I haven’t heard anything about that.”
“That’s because you never come in here, Mum,” Pearl said.
“Of course I do—whenever I’m passing. So, who’s the author?”
&nb
sp; “Ta-da!” Pearl brought out the book again.
“Tammy Winestock?” Aunt Lucy was clearly impressed. “How did you manage to sign her up?”
“Nothing to it,” Amber said. “Her agent contacted us, and asked if we’d be interested.”
“But this place is so small?” Aunt Lucy glanced around the shop. “Will there be enough room?”
I considered mentioning my suggestion about the serving hatch, but thought better of it. I couldn’t afford to upset the twins again—at least not until I had my muffin and latte.
“Will you come, Mum?” Pearl said.
“Definitely.” Aunt Lucy sounded genuinely enthusiastic. “I’m a big fan.”
Once Aunt Lucy and I had our cakes and drinks, I led the way to the table that was furthest away from the counter.
“I take it that this Tammy Winestock is a big deal?” I said.
“She’s probably the most famous celebrity chef in Candlefield. She’s always on the TV. I’m just amazed that she’d want to make a personal appearance in Cuppy C. Credit where credit is due; it’s quite a coup for the twins.”
Hmm. My ‘something smells fishy-ometer’ was beginning to beep.
“You said you wanted to talk to me about something, Aunt Lucy?”
“Yes. My neighbour, Biddy Tranter, is moving out. Her husband has got himself a job in the human world; they’re moving to Washbridge. Biddy is an avid knitter, and is hoping to find a knitting group once she’s settled into her new home. I told her about Mrs V, and I promised I’d ask if you’d have a word to see if she might be able to give Biddy any advice.”
“No problem. I’m sure Mrs V will put her right.”
“Thanks, Jill. To tell you the truth, I’ll be really sorry to see Biddy and Brian leave. I just hope I don’t get landed with bad neighbours.”
“I shouldn’t worry. I’m sure it will be fine.”
“How are things with you? I hear that Jack’s mother came to visit.”
“She did, and I’m pleased to report that we got on like a house on fire.”
“That’s good to hear. I know you were a little worried about her after the anniversary party.”
“That was my bad. I let my imagination get the better of me, and saw things that weren’t there.”
“I’m glad you’ve cleared the air.”
“Definitely. I feel like I know her much better now.”
The darling little witchfinder.
Chapter 3
I was dreading going back to the office because I had a meeting arranged with Luther. Normally, that would have been one of the highlights of my day, but he was coming in to go over my year-end accounts. That was never fun.
Before that, I had thirty minutes to kill, so I called in at Ever. It was unusually quiet; Kathy was daydreaming behind the counter.
“Does Chloe know you’ve been offered another job?”
“No. I haven’t said anything, and I probably won’t unless I decide to take it.”
“You still haven’t made your mind up then?”
“No. One minute, I think I’d be crazy not to take it, and then the next, I think I’d be insane to leave this job. I almost wish they’d never approached me. Are you here to see your grandmother?”
“No. I’m just killing a few minutes before my meeting with Luther.”
“Why the long face? I thought you liked him?”
“I do, but we’re going to be discussing my year-end accounts.”
“That sounds exciting.”
“Terrifying, more like. Peter will have to do those too, now that he’s his own boss. Has he found himself an accountant yet?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t heard him mention one.”
“You should tell him to contact Luther.”
“Are you on commission?”
“I wish.”
Just then, a loud banging noise came from under our feet.
“What’s that?” I said.
“I’ve no idea. They’ve been at it all day. They must have just come back from their break.”
“Who?”
“There are five or six workmen down there. They turned up first thing this morning, and asked for your grandmother. The next thing I knew, they were on their way down to the basement.”
“To do what?”
“How would I know? I only work here. I did ask, but your grandmother ignored my question. I even asked one of the workmen, but he said that the old woman had threatened to do unspeakable things to them if they discussed the work with anyone. No doubt we’ll find out in due course.”
“No doubt. Oh, well, I suppose I’d better get this over with. Wish me luck.”
***
When I arrived at the office, Luther was looking at Mrs V’s family tree.
“That’s really fascinating, Mrs V.” He almost sounded as though he meant it. “Are you ready to make a start, Jill?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
I led the way through to my office.
“Did you realise that the cat has your phone?” Luther gestured to Winky who was on the sofa.
“Ah! So that’s where I left it.” I just managed to avoid Winky’s claws, as I took it from him.
“So? How are the accounts looking, Luther? Much better than last year, I bet?”
“There’s a definite improvement.”
“That’s good.”
“But then, last year’s figures were terrible. This year’s figures are just bad.”
“Are you sure? Could you have miscalculated?”
“I’m an accountant, Jill. I don’t miscalculate.”
“No, of course not. Is there anything I need to give particular attention to?”
“Yes. First, you are still using your business credit card to pay for things that quite obviously are not business expenses.”
“That’s not me. That’s—” I glanced at Winky.
“Sorry? How do you mean it wasn’t you?”
“I—err—I meant I don’t know why I did that. It won’t happen again.”
“Good. The other major problem is cash.”
“What about it?”
“You aren’t making enough of it. Your caseload fluctuates so much that there are periods when you are overloaded, and other times when you have no work at all.”
“I’m not sure what I can do about that.”
“What you really need is a source of regular income.”
“Isn’t that called a ‘job’?”
“Not necessarily. There must be certain businesses who have a need for regular P.I. services. Debt collectors? That sort of thing.”
“Work for a firm of debt collectors? Don’t you think enough people hate me already?”
“It doesn’t have to be debt collectors. There must be other companies who could contract your services on a regular basis. If you could find something that would keep you going through the lean months, your accounts would be in much better shape.”
“Okay. I’ll give it some thought.”
“Good. And don’t forget that the four of us are supposed to be having another night out some time.”
“I haven’t forgotten, but Jack has been very busy. He didn’t get in until the early hours of this morning.”
“A big case?”
“Yeah. Mannequin homicide.”
“Sorry?”
“I’m just joking. Anyway, how are things with you and Maria?”
“Couldn’t be better. She’s on the lookout for a job.”
“Doing what?”
“Her experience is in retail, but I think she’ll consider anything. If you hear of any vacancies, let me know, would you?”
“Will do.”
“Do you mind?” As soon as Luther was out of the door, Winky snatched back his phone.
“You should keep it out of sight when I have visitors. I could hardly tell Luther that it belonged to you, could I?”
“How am I meant to get my new business venture off the ground if I can’t access m
y phone?”
“What business venture would that be?”
Why was I asking? When would I ever learn?
“I don’t suppose you’ll let up until I tell you.” He sighed. “If you must know, I’m putting my app through its final testing.”
“You’ve downloaded an app? What’s so exciting about that?”
“I haven’t downloaded an app. I’ve created it. Once I’ve finished the final testing, it will be launched onto the market.”
“You? Create an app? I don’t believe you. You don’t have the necessary skillset.”
“I didn’t create it myself. I hired someone on Hire-A-Moggy. His rates were very reasonable.”
“What does it do, this app of yours? Can I see it?” I reached for his phone.
“No.” He pulled away. “This is top secret. I don’t want you copying my idea.”
***
Megan was just about to go into her house when I pulled up on my driveway.
“Megan! Do you have a minute?”
“Sure. Would you like to come in for a drink?”
“No, thanks. It’s my turn to make dinner. I just wanted to ask you something.”
“Okay.”
“My receptionist’s sister is hoping to get into the modelling business, but she doesn’t have a clue where to start. I said I’d ask you if you had any advice to offer her.”
“The best advice I can give her is not to do it. It’s a cut-throat business with some horrible people in it.”
“I’m sure you’re right, but I doubt that’s what she wants to hear.”
“What’s her name?”
“Lules.”
“That’s an unusual name.”
“It’s actually Lulu, but everyone calls her Lules.”
“What does she do at the moment?”
“She’s working in a black pudding factory.”
“Oh?”
“Apparently, she was Miss Black Pudding 2017.”
“Right.” Megan smiled. “Why don’t you give her my number? I’ll have a chat with her. If I can’t talk her out of it, I can at least give her a few contact numbers, and warn her about the pitfalls to watch out for.”
“That’s very kind. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. If I can save someone from the misery I went through when I first started out in the business, it will be well worth it.”
