by Adele Abbott
I led the way over the footbridge, to join them.
“Where are Peter and Mikey?” I said.
“They’ve been allocated pegs downstream.”
“What do they need pegs for?”
“That’s what they call the spot on the river that each competitor is allocated. I thought Lizzie and I had better wait here until you arrived.”
“Is Mikey nervous?”
“He wasn’t until he got here. We had no idea that there would only be two entrants in the under-ten class: Mikey and a boy called Simon. The other boy has been fishing for three years, so he’s much more experienced than Mikey. As soon as we got here, the little monster started taunting Mikey. Finishing halfway down a field of ten wouldn’t be so bad, but with only two of them in it, Mikey is either going to end up the winner or the loser. And, I fear the latter is more likely.”
“He’ll be okay. Kids are pretty resilient.”
“I hope you’re right. Shall we go and see them?”
“Sure. Lead the way.”
As the four of us began to walk along the riverbank, Lizzie grabbed my hand.
“Caroline still hasn’t come back, Auntie Jill. I’m worried that something bad has happened to her.”
“I’m sure it hasn’t. I still think she’s on holiday. A lot of people go away for two weeks. I’m sure she’ll be back in a few more days.”
“Promise?”
What was I meant to say to that? “Err—yeah. I promise.”
I had better be right, otherwise Lizzie would be devastated, and I’d be to blame.
“How’s it going, you two?” Jack said when we reached the stretch of riverbank where both Peter and Mikey were seated. “Caught much yet?”
“Give us a chance.” Peter grinned. “We’ve only just started.”
“What about you, Mikey? Any bites yet?”
“No. I’m going to lose.”
Kathy gave me a look, and then turned to Mikey. “I’ve already told you, Mikey. It doesn’t matter who wins, as long as you have fun.”
“It won’t be fun if Simon beats me.” He glared at the opposite riverbank. Only then did I realise there was another young boy seated almost directly across from us. I was no judge of such things, but his fishing tackle looked much more elaborate than Mikey’s, and certainly much more expensive.
“Caught anything yet, loser?” Simon shouted at Mikey.
“Ignore him.” Kathy put her hand on Mikey’s shoulder.
“Where are his parents?” I said.
“That’s his dad, just up there.” Kathy gestured to a man seated a few yards downstream from Simon. The man looked like he’d bought all of his clothes from Fishermen Chic.
“Why doesn’t he tell his kid not to be so horrible?”
“That’s Sandy,” Peter chipped in. “He’s as bad as his son. A prize prat if ever there was one.”
As promised, Kathy had brought along a picnic basket. Halfway through the morning, Peter and Mikey left their pegs, and joined us for drinks and snacks.
“How’s it going, Mikey?” I asked.
“Rubbish. I’ve only caught three tiddlers.”
“Three isn’t bad.”
“I’ve seen Simon land at least six, and two of them were big ones.”
“I’m sure things will pick up later. How do they decide who the winner is? Is it whoever catches the most fish?”
“No,” Peter said. “It’s the overall weight that matters.”
“When does the competition finish?”
“There’s another two hours to go.”
“What about you, Peter?” Jack asked. “How are you doing?
“Terrible. I’ve only caught one so far.”
“See, Mikey,” Kathy said. “You’re doing better than your dad.”
“I’m still going to lose.”
As it grew closer to the midday finish time, Simon became more and more cocky and obnoxious.
“Hey, loser. How many fish have you caught now?”
“Call that little thing a fish? Ha, ha, ha.”
“I’m going to keep the trophy in my bedroom.”
Mikey was close to tears, but he didn’t rise to the bait; he just kept on fishing.
With about ten minutes to go before the end of the competition, Mikey’s float bobbed down in the water; he had a bite. It was time to show Simon that being obnoxious doesn’t pay, so I cast a spell to make the fish on Mikey’s line bigger.
Much bigger.
For a moment, I thought I’d overdone it because he struggled to land the monster fish, but eventually he managed to get it into his keepnet. On the other riverbank, Simon had caught a small fish of his own, so he hadn’t seen Mikey’s catch.
Once the competition had ended, all of the competitors gathered by the footbridge. The judges weighed everyone’s catch, and then returned the fish to the river. It then took almost thirty minutes for the judges to announce the winners in the various classes. Needless to say, Peter came nowhere, but he seemed to take it in good part.
“And now we come to the under-ten class. In first place, with a total catch of nine pounds, is Mikey Brooks.”
Simon’s face fell. “That’s not fair, Dad.” He buried his head in his father’s chest. “I should have won,” he blubbered.
“Go on, Mikey.” Kathy gave him a little nudge. “Go and get your cup.”
“That last fish that Mikey landed was unbelievable,” Jack said, as we drove home. “He was miles behind until he caught that.”
“I know. Did you see his little face when he got the cup?”
“He was chuffed to bits, and so he should have been.”
“I just hope he doesn’t expect to catch whoppers like that every time.”
***
We’d no sooner got back home than I had to leave again.
“Where are you off to?” Jack said.
“I thought I mentioned it this morning. I have to meet a client at the office.”
“I’m pretty sure you didn’t mention it. On a Sunday afternoon?”
“It was the only time he could make it. I shouldn’t be long.” I shot out of the door before he could ask any more awkward questions.
There was no need to drive all the way into Washbridge, so I pulled into the first layby I came to, and from there, magicked myself over to Candlefield.
“Why are you wearing gloves?” Grandma was standing next to our tandem.
“I told you when I called earlier that my hands are sore from yesterday’s tug-of-war.”
“Just wait until you have old wizened hands like mine.” She waved her bony fingers in my face. “Then you’ll have something to complain about.”
“Where exactly does the bike ride take place?”
“They’ve closed off the market place and surrounding roads. The route is clearly sign-posted.”
“How long is the course?”
“Twenty-five circuits.”
“That sounds a long way.”
“Stop complaining and get on the bike.”
I climbed onto the front seat.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She glared at me.
“You told me to get on.”
“You should be on the rear.”
“Are you sure? Is your eyesight up to this?”
“There’s nothing wrong with my eyesight. I’ll have you know that I have twenty-twenty vision. Now get on the back, will you?”
“We don’t have to rush around the course, do we? I’m still tired from the charity sports competition.”
“You poor little petal. Don’t worry. It isn’t a race, so even you should be able to cope.”
Thank goodness. At least I’d be able to sit back, relax and let Grandma do all the hard work.
“Hello, Mirabel.”
The familiar but unwelcome voice took us both by surprise. Ma Chivers had just pulled her tandem level with ours. Seated on the back was Cyril.
“What do you think you’re doing, Chivers?” Grandma said.
“This ride will kill you.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. Care for a wager on who finishes first?”
“Easy money. How about ten pieces of silver?”
“Make it twenty.”
“Done.”
Oh bum!
“Grandma.” I leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
Just then, a klaxon sounded, and we were off.
Where Grandma got her energy from, I’ll never know. We sped around the course at breakneck speed; it took me all my time just to stay on the bike.
“Pedal faster!” she yelled, as we fell behind Ma Chivers and Cyril.
With only one lap to go, I was totally spent, and we were still trailing behind Ma Chivers. I didn’t care; I just wanted it to be over. As we approached the final bend, Grandma threw the bike so low onto its side that I scraped my knee on the floor. The risky manoeuvre had the desired effect because we slipped past Ma Chivers and Cyril on the inside.
Moments later we crossed the finish line in first place.
I climbed off the bike and slumped in a heap on the floor; my legs had turned to jelly. Not so for Grandma. She rushed over to Ma Chivers, and held out her hand. I couldn’t hear what was said between them, but if Ma Chivers’ expression was anything to go by, she was not a good loser.
“Easy money.” Grandma rattled the coins in her cupped hands.
Grandma had gone home, skipping as she went, but I was still trying to find enough energy to magic myself back to Washbridge. I was sitting with my back against a tree when I heard Ma Chivers’ voice.
“That was your fault, Cyril. You should never have let her slip past us like that.”
“Sorry, Ma. I was peddling as fast as I could.”
“Not fast enough. I’ll never hear the end of this from Mirabel.”
“You’ll get your own back soon enough when your shop opens.”
“You’re right. Let’s see how she likes it when all of her customers desert her for YarnStormers.” She cackled.
I waited until they’d left, and then magicked myself back to the car in Washbridge. I had to warn Kathy.
She picked up on the first ring.
“Jill? We’ve only just got back in. We stopped off for a celebratory dinner on the way home. Mikey is so excited. Did you see the size of that fish he caught?”
“Yeah, it was fantastic. Look, the reason I’ve called is to tell you that you can’t take that job with YarnStormers.”
“Why not? Did you let it slip to your grandmother? Has she told you to call me?”
“No. I haven’t said anything to her.”
“So what’s this all about?”
“I’ve found out who owns YarnStormers, and she is seriously bad news.”
“Who is it?”
“Her name is Chivers. If you think Grandma is bad, you haven’t seen anything yet. Chivers is pure evil.”
“How do you know her?”
“I—err—I’ve had business dealings with her.”
“What kind of business dealings?”
“She—err—almost made a client of mine bankrupt. She’s a real piece of work, Kathy. You have to turn down the job.”
“Are you absolutely sure about this?”
“One hundred percent.”
“Okay. I guess there’s no point in jumping out of the frying pan into the fire. It’s disappointing because the extra money would have been nice.”
“It’s the right decision, Kathy. You have to trust me on this one.”
“Okay. Thanks for warning me.”
I’d no sooner finished on that call than my phone rang.
“Is that Ms Gooder?”
“Speaking.”
“It’s Kitty Landers. I’ve had a long chat with Conrad, and he’s agreed to speak to you on the phone.”
“That’s great. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Just prove my son is innocent. Help me to get him out of prison.”
“When will he call me?”
“It should be sometime tomorrow.”
“Okay. Thanks again.”
“You were quick.” Jack was lying on the sofa; he had a glass of beer on the coffee table beside him.
“I told you it wouldn’t take me long.”
“What on earth did you do to your knee?”
“Oh? I—err—tripped on my way back to the car.”
“You’re so clumsy. Shall I get you something to put on it?”
“No. Just give me a kiss. That will make it better.”
“I can do much better than that.”
Chapter 18
“The new ballroom opens tonight,” Jack said, in between spoonfuls of muesli.
“So it does.”
“Exciting, isn’t it?”
Yawn. “Very.”
“We really ought to drop in. Then we can say we were there on day one.”
“I thought we’d agreed that it would be much too busy on opening day?”
“If you called your grandmother, I’d bet she’d sort something out for us.”
“You really don’t know Grandma, do you?”
“Couldn’t she sneak us in the back way or something?”
“I’m not going to ask her. It isn’t the ‘getting in’ that’s the problem. The place will be wall-to-wall with woolly waltzers. You won’t be able to move in there. And besides, I’m up to my neck in work at the moment. I can’t spare the time to go dancing.”
“Okay, but we’ll go as soon as things have died down. Agreed?”
“Absolutely. Just as soon as the novelty has worn off, we’ll be there.” Ten years should just about do it.
My phone rang; Caller ID showed that it was Constance Bowler.
“Hi.” I made my way upstairs because I didn’t want to have to explain to Jack why I was talking to a ghost police chief.
“I’m sorry to call so early, Jill, but I have meetings all day, and I wanted to catch you first.”
“No problem. Have you located Caroline?”
“Yes. I have her address. Do you have a pen handy?”
I scribbled the address down, thanked Constance, and made my way back downstairs.
“Who was that?” Jack was rinsing his bowl.
“Just a client.”
“They’re keen, aren’t they?”
“I told you I was busy.”
***
Even after all this time, Candlefield still had a ‘magical’ feel about it. I couldn’t exactly put into words what I meant by ‘magical’, but essentially it always felt ‘other worldly’.
The streets and houses were quite different to anything in the human world. In the early days, I’d found it very confusing when travelling around the sup world because the distance between two locations seemed to count for nothing. It might take me ten minutes to walk a particular route one day, but then take twice as long the next time. Distances in Candlefield seemed somehow to be ‘elastic’. Another thing that had blown my mind at first, but which I’d grown accustomed to, was the fact that I never needed a map or street signs to find my way around. In Candlefield, I simply had to think of the location I wanted to visit, and then start walking. Magic did the rest.
GT was different in almost every respect. The houses and streets resembled much more closely those in the human world. The distance between two locations did not vary from day to day; it was fixed. And relying on magic to find your way around was going to get you only one place: Lostville.
“Morning,” I said to the slim, tall man behind the counter of the Ghost Town News and Convenience Store.
He did the usual double take. “You’re that witch. I’ve heard rumours about you, but I didn’t believe them.”
“They’re true.”
“So I see. I’m Bob Kitecatcher.” He offered his hand. “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Jill Gooder.”
“I thought your hand would feel different,” he said.
“Different
how?”
“I don’t know. Silly, really. Anyhow, what can I get for you?”
“I’m new here, as you know. To be honest, I’m having difficulty finding my way around. Do you by any chance have a map of Ghost Town?”
“GT is a big place. There are numerous maps.”
“Of course. I should have realised.”
“What you need is the GT map app.”
“There’s an app?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t there be?” He took out his phone, and showed me the screen which was full of apps.
“I suppose I expected this place to be the same as Candlefield. There’s no internet there.”
“Where’s Candlefield?”
“In the sup world.”
“Oh, right. I’ve never heard it called by name before. I didn’t even realise there were such things as sups until I arrived here. It’s surprising what you learn when you’re dead.”
“I guess so.”
“We have internet and smart phones here.”
“Thank goodness. That’s the one thing about Candlefield that drives me crazy. Do you think I’d be able to run the map app on my phone?”
“I don’t see why not. Pass me your phone, and I’ll install it for you.”
I did as he asked.
“Hmm? I’ll need to install GT Play first.” He fiddled around for a couple of minutes. “That seems to have worked okay. Now, let me try and install the map app.” Another couple of minutes of fiddling. “That’s it. Take a look.”
He demonstrated the app, which worked pretty much the same as map apps I had used in the human world.
“Thank you so much, Bob.”
“It was my pleasure. Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“No, thanks. I should be okay now.”
“Do call in again. I’d love to catch up with what’s happening in the human world.”
“Okay, bye, and thanks again.”
The app was great. After I’d typed in the address that Constance had given to me, a map and directions appeared. According to the on-screen info, it would take me fifteen minutes on foot. Apparently, it was only five minutes by bus, but I had no idea where to catch one, or how often they ran. On a whim, I tried to magic myself there, but nothing happened. Did that mean my magic wouldn’t work in GT? To find out, I tried the ‘invisible’ spell, and that seemed to work just fine. Weird! Maybe some spells worked in GT, and others didn’t. This was going to be a learning process.
