by Adele Abbott
After I’d passed the last of the books to him, I decided to make myself scarce. I didn’t want to be around when the asparagus hit the fan. Back at the front of the shop, I bumped into Aunt Lucy who was with a man I didn’t recognise.
“Jill? I guess you couldn’t get inside either?”
“Not a chance.”
“Pity. I’d have liked to see Tammy Winestock.”
“I don’t think you’re missing much. Trust me on this one.”
“I’m glad I bumped into you, anyway. This is Joseph Feathers. He’s the president of OSA. When I mentioned that you wanted a word, he insisted on coming to see you in person.”
“I hope you don’t mind, Ms Gooder.” Joseph stepped forward, and offered his hand. “I’m a big fan. I first saw you in the Levels competition. I knew then that you would go far.”
“That’s very kind. I wanted a word about one of your members: Alfie, the barn owl.”
Joseph nodded. “A little bird told me he’d had an accident.”
“That’s right. He came off his bike, and broke a leg. He normally lives in a bird sanctuary in Washbridge, but if he’s missing for too long, he may not be able to return there.”
“How exactly can I help?”
“I imagine you have other barn owl shifters in your group?”
“Oh yes. Several of them.”
“I wondered if there was any chance some of them could stand in for Alfie until his leg has mended?”
“I don’t see why not. Alfie is one of our most popular members. Why don’t I ask around? If enough volunteers come forward, they could share the duties—perhaps one day each.”
“That would be fantastic. Thank you very much.”
“I’ll liaise with your aunt. She can let you know what I manage to sort out.”
***
I magicked myself back to Washbridge, picked up the car, and drove home. No doubt I would hear all about the fallout from the Tammy Winestock/Timmy Vinestock incident in due course.
Jack’s car was already on the driveway, but before I went inside, I wanted a quick word with Megan. She came to the door wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with a large smiley face.
“Sorry to bother you, Megan.”
“Would you like to come in?”
“No, thanks. I just have a quick question for you. Could you give me the contact details for the cheap garden gnome supplier that you mentioned to me?”
“Oh dear.” She blushed. “I didn’t realise that you and Jack like gnomes. I hope you weren’t offended by what I said about them?”
“Not in the least. The gnome isn’t for us. It’s for—err—my PA, Mrs V.”
“Phew. I have a habit of opening my mouth, and putting my foot in it. Just hold on there. I have his business card somewhere.”
She disappeared back into the house for no more than a minute.
“There you go.”
The card read: Gnomeing At The Mouth. Proprietor: Tony Tallhats.
It also included his phone number.
“Thanks, Megan. Mrs V will be delighted.”
When I walked into my house, I could hear voices. It was Kathy and Jack.
“What are you doing here?”
“Charming.” Kathy rolled her eyes. “How about: nice to see you, sis?”
“Nice to see you. Now, why are you here?”
“Pete is giving someone a quote for a job, so I asked him to drop me here until he’s done. I wanted to give you my big news: I’ve decided to take the job at YarnStormers.”
“Have you told Grandma yet?”
“No. I’ll tell her on Monday.”
“Can I watch?”
“Watch what?”
“You, telling her that you’re leaving.”
“I’m sure she’ll be okay about it. We’re all professionals, after all.”
“Yeah.” I laughed. “You keep telling yourself that.”
“Why didn’t you tell me the other big news of the week?” Jack chimed in.
“What big news?”
“About the new ballroom that opens next Monday.”
I shot Kathy a look. “You told him?”
“Why not? I know how much Jack loves to dance. You two will have a great time there.”
I’d said it before, but I’d say it again: Kathy. Was. So Dead.
Chapter 16
It was Saturday morning, and I should have been looking forward to a leisurely day, but instead the dark shadow of the charity sports competition was hovering over me.
“It’s been raining during the night.” I was staring out of the kitchen window.
“It was only a little drizzle.” Jack was reading his bowling magazine.
“If it’s too muddy, maybe they’ll call it off.”
“I doubt it. A bit of mud never hurt anyone.”
“How many events are we taking part in?”
“I’m in the egg and spoon race, the sack race and the tug-of-war.”
“What about me?”
“You said you didn’t want to overdo it, so I’ve only put you down for the egg and spoon race. I could still sign you up for some others if you like?”
“No. Just the one will be fine. Does that mean I’ll be competing in the same race as you?”
“No. There are separate races for men and women. The only mixed event is the tug-of-war; that’s the final event of the day.”
“Will Leo Riley be there?”
“I don’t know, but I would expect so. Do you think Kathy and Peter will come and watch?”
“Not if they’ve got any sense. Besides, I imagine Peter will be working.”
“I still can’t believe you didn’t mention that your grandmother was opening a ballroom.”
“I meant to, but it totally slipped my mind.”
“We should go there on Monday, after work.”
“Are you insane? That’s opening day. With all the publicity that Grandma has thrown at it, the place will be heaving.”
“I suppose you’re right. Perhaps it would be best to wait a while until the novelty wears off.”
“Yeah.” Like a decade or two.
When we stepped out of the door, Jack stopped dead in his tracks; I almost ran into the back of him.
“What’s going on over the road?” He was staring at Mr Kilbride’s house, which now had what appeared to be a sad face. The upstairs windows formed the eyes, and beneath those, someone had drawn a nose and a sad mouth. “Do you think Mr Kilbride did that?”
“No, but I’m pretty sure I know who did.”
“Who?”
“I’ll give you a clue. He has a thing about trains.”
“Mr Hosey? Why would he have done it?”
“They’re having a bit of a dispute. Mr Kilbride did something similar to Bessie.”
“Who’s Bessie?”
“Mr Hosey’s train. The one he drives around the streets.”
“How do you know so much about our neighbours?”
“It isn’t through choice, believe me.”
The charity sports competition was being held on a large green known as Washbridge Meadows. The Washbridge contingency were on the left-hand side of the green, gathered in two groups: men and women. The West Chipping crowd were huddled in two similar groups on the opposite side of the green.
“Gather around.” A woman, wearing a tracksuit and running shoes, seemed to be in charge of our group. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Felicity Anchors. I’m a dog-handler at West Chipping station. If you haven’t taken part in this event before, there’s something very important that you should keep in mind: This is a fun day.”
I was relieved to hear her emphasise that point. The way Jack had been going on about it, I’d been worried that people might be taking this way too seriously.
“And we all know the best way to have fun,” she continued, “is to crush the opposition. Crush them! Crush them!” She led the chant.
Oh bum!
There were several events before th
e egg and spoon race, so after Felicity had finished with the pep talk, I found a sheltered spot under a tree, to wait it out.
“Jill? It is Jill, isn’t it?” Felicity had found me.
“Yeah. I’m just waiting for the egg and spoon race.”
“We’ve lost a couple of people with flu. Wusses!” She laughed like some kind of mad woman. I was beginning to think I’d rather face her dog than her in a fight. “I’m going to need you to take part in the tug-of-war.”
“Won’t the rope burn my hands?”
“Sorry?” She glared at me.
“Nothing. Sure. Tug-of-war—no problem.”
I wondered if there would be time to nip back to the house to get some gloves, but decided I’d better not. If Felicity saw me sneaking away, there was no telling what she might do.
By the time it came to the men’s sack race, the scores were tied. Standing next to one another on the start line were Jack and Leo Riley. I hadn’t seen Miley; she’d obviously had the good sense to give this purgatory a miss.
“Come on, Jack!” I yelled.
What? I can be supportive when I try.
The official counted down, and then they were off. The expression on Jack’s face was hilarious; never had anyone concentrated so hard on a sack race. There were six contestants in total, but only two of them were really in with a chance. Jack and Leo were several yards in front of the others. Three quarters of the way through, and there was nothing between them. This was going to be really close.
“Come on, Jack! Crush the little toad!”
That attracted a few disapproving looks, but I didn’t care.
With only yards to go, it looked like being a draw, but then Leo leaned to one side, and appeared to knock Jack off balance. Jack fell to the floor, and Leo continued over the winning line.
“Hey! Ref!” I yelled. “Did you see that?”
My appeal was in vain because, as far as I could tell, there was no referee. Riley had a huge smile on his face, and was punching the air. Jack had got back on his feet, but ended the race in last place.
I went charging over to him. “Riley tripped you up.”
“It was probably an accident.”
“What? That was no accident. He deliberately leaned into you.”
“Don’t make a fuss. It’s only a fun day.”
“But that little—”
“Jill! It really doesn’t matter. It’s the women’s egg and spoon race next. If you win, that will level us up on points.”
No pressure then.
At this point, I should just set the record straight. I hadn’t intended to use magic in the egg and spoon race. I’d planned to give it my best shot, and allow the dice to fall as they would. But things had changed. That little weasel had cheated, and what’s more he’d nobbled my man.
Yes, you heard right: my man.
And let me tell you, no one messes with my man, and gets away with it. To heck with fair play and the Queensberry Rules. The gloves were off.
There were five others lined up alongside me at the starting line, but the poor unsuspecting fools didn’t stand a chance because I had cast a spell which effectively glued the egg onto the spoon.
“Three, Two, One, Go!”
I sprinted down the track, paying little heed to the spoon in my hand. I didn’t have to worry about it because a hurricane wouldn’t have dislodged that egg. Moments later, I crossed the finish line in first place—several yards in front of the pack.
“Well done!” Jack picked me up and spun me around.
When he put me down, someone said, “How is that egg staying on there like that?”
Only then did I realise that I was holding the spoon almost vertically.
“Is it glued on?” someone else shouted, and a crowd began to gather.
“Of course not.” I laughed, and quickly reversed the spell, causing the egg to fall to the ground. “See! No glue!”
A few people still looked puzzled, but they had no choice but to let it go.
“It’s all down to the tug-of-war now,” Jack said. “You have to come and cheer me on.”
“I’m in the tug-of-war too. Felicity conscripted me.”
“Really? That’s great. We’ll make a brilliant team. We can’t possibly lose.”
By the time the two teams were lined up for the final event of the day, all pretence that the competition was just about ‘fun’ had well and truly been set aside. Everyone was desperate to win, and no one more so than Jack and Leo.
And of course, me.
Even though I was determined that we should prevail, I’d made up my mind that this had to be a clean, fair contest in which the best team would win. It would have been totally unethical of me to use magic in order to give my team an unfair advantage. You can say many things about me, but I have a strong moral compass.
On the rope, I was standing immediately behind Jack. Leo Riley was at the front of his team—his face was taut with determination.
“Three, two, one, go!”
I’d been right about the ‘hands’ thing; the rope burned my palms as I fought to pull my weight. For a few minutes, it seemed that there was no obvious favourite. The ribbon, which was attached to the centre of the rope, moved no more than a couple of feet in either direction, and then just as quickly, returned to the centre.
“Pull! Riley yelled.
“Pull!” Jack echoed.
My arms were aching, my legs had almost turned to jelly, and my palms were burning, but there was no way I could ease up. But then, suddenly, the woman in front of Jack let go of the rope, and walked away.
“Sorry. I can’t do any more.” She shook her head.
Her capitulation emboldened the other team who pulled even harder. We were losing the battle; it was only a matter of moments before the game would be up.
It didn’t matter. We’d done our best. It was only a game after all.
Stuff that!
I cast the ‘power’ spell, and immediately things turned around. The other side stood no chance as they were dragged slowly our way.
“Pull!” Riley urged his team on to one last effort, but then lost his footing, and fell face first into the mud.
Moments later, we had won.
“We did it!” Jack gave me a hug, and a big kiss. “We won!”
And so it was that West Chipping won the charity sports competition. You might think that I felt good about that. And you would be so right!
What? Ethical? Smethical. We won, didn’t we? And seeing Leo Riley face down in the mud was a bonus.
***
That evening, Jack and I had a few celebratory drinks to toast the win.
“Did you see Riley’s face when he fell over?” Jack laughed.
“He’s an ugly toad. The mudpack might have improved him.”
“I thought we’d blown it when Gillian walked off, but it was as though we suddenly found reserves of hidden strength from somewhere. Did you feel that too?”
“I did. It was a magical feeling.”
“At least tomorrow we’ll be able to sit back and relax. Watching Mikey’s fishing competition shouldn’t be too taxing.”
If only. It was okay for Jack. He didn’t have a sponsored tandem bike ride to get through.
With Grandma.
Chapter 17
“Leave me alone! It’s Sunday!” I said when Jack nudged me, and told me to get out of bed.
“It’s Mikey’s fishing competition.”
“What time does it start?”
“Eight.”
“Eight o’ clock? The fish will still be in bed then.”
“Come on. Mikey will be disappointed if we aren’t there for the start.”
“Couldn’t you just take a life-size cardboard cut-out of me, and stand that on the riverbank?”
“Get up!” He started to tickle my feet.
“Stop! Stop! Please stop! I’ll get up.”
I hated that man.
“What do you want for breakfast?” he aske
d when I eventually made it downstairs.
“Custard creams, and lots of them.”
“You can’t have custard creams for breakfast. It isn’t healthy.”
“Just you watch me.” I took out the packet, and put three onto a plate.
“Three?” He looked horrified.
“You’re right.” I took another one from the pack. “I’m going to need these to get me through the day.”
“It’s only a fishing competition. All you have to do is watch Mikey.”
It wasn’t the fishing competition that was bothering me, although I’d have gladly given that a miss if I’d thought I could get away with it. It was the bike ride that I was dreading. My poor hands were still sore after the tug-of-war. How was I meant to hold on to the handlebars?
Maybe there was still time to get out of it.
I waited until Jack had gone upstairs, and then called Grandma.
“Hello?” She sounded groggy.
“Did I wake you?”
“Of course you woke me. Don’t you know it’s Sunday?”
“Sorry.”
“This had better be a matter of life or death.”
“My hands are sore.”
“And you rang to tell me that?”
“I took part in a tug-of-war yesterday, and my hands haven’t recovered.”
“I should care about that because—?”
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to do the bike ride. I won’t be able to grip the handlebars.”
“Typical! The youth of today has no backbone. It’s a tandem. I can’t take part in the bike ride without you, so you’d better be there.”
“What about my hands?”
“Wear gloves.”
With that, the line went dead. I knew I could rely on Grandma to be sympathetic.
***
When we arrived at Wash Point where the competition was being held, I was pleased to see that the fence, which had once made a stretch of the river inaccessible, had now been removed. The council had taken it down after I’d helped to shut down the factory responsible for the dangerous trade in pixie-to-human transformations.
“Jill! Jack! Over here!” Kathy called from the other riverbank. Lizzie was at her side.
