Amanda Cadabra and The Strange Case of Lucy Penlowr

by Holly Bell

  Amanda’s new friend also went unmentioned over dinner, when Hogarth took a kindly interest in her new orange gloves. He entertained Amanda and Trelawney with a glove story of his own until tea and pudding, and the next instalment of The Story ....

  Chapter 7

  Sir Philip’s Answer

  Cal possessed his soul in patience for a week while, presumably, his parents held conclave. Finally, he was asked to come to the office. He straightened his black-and-yellow-striped school tie and entered at his father’s invitation.

  ‘Have a seat. Right then, Cal. We’ve considered your proposal, and I have one of my own. You don’t choose your place of tertiary education until next year. If you are still determined upon this course of action at that time, we will facilitate your installation as a prospective agent in Cornwall.’ Cal’s face lit up.

  ‘You will?’ He looked at his mother. She nodded, twinkling.

  Two years later, Cal sat opposite his father for the last time as a mere schoolboy.

  ‘You’re sure?’ asked Sir Philip.

  ‘Yes, Dad, surer than ever.’

  ‘Hm. We’ll find a way for your mother, at least, to see you from time to time. You can always pull out, you know. At any juncture.’

  ‘And blow my cover? Undo everything I would have achieved?’ Cal shook his head. ‘Still, it’s good to know that the ejector seat will work,’ he added on a lighter note. His mother laughed at the James Bond reference.

  ‘Well, don’t expect an Aston Martin or a visit to Q,’ she said.

  Sir Philip smiled and withdrew a large manila envelope from his desk drawer.

  ‘In two weeks, it’s our anniversary. We will go out to dinner at Simpson’s: the three of us. There we will enter into a heated debate as to your future. You will express your defiance of our wishes and storm out. The next day, you will take a train to Heathrow and thence a flight to Paris.’

  Sir Philip took out a photo from the envelope and turned it to face Cal.

  ‘This man, Fabrice, will meet you at Charles de Gaulle Airport. He will drive you north to the coast. You will wait until nightfall, then you will board the fishing boat Ausquémé Arabesque. Once at sea, you will change your clothes and leave the name of Cal Rayke behind. You will be dropped near Bournemouth. There your Aunt Gigi will collect you and take you to Liverpool. If anyone tries to grill you on where you are from, you will say that your parents travelled a great deal, and you usually homeschooled yourself. Consequently, you do not know any place particularly well.’

  ‘Understood, sir.’

  ‘From Liverpool, you will travel by train to Plymouth. From there, you will travel west to your accommodation. You will be lodging with Mamm James. She’ll look after you.’ He handed the envelope to Cal. ‘Plane and train tickets and the contact details for Mamm James. Among other things.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Controlling his excitement as best he could, Cal held the envelope on his lap.’

  ‘Well?’ asked Sir Philip. ‘Don’t you want to know who you’re going to be? It’s in there.’

  Cal pulled out a passport. He opened it to the most important page, frowned for a moment, then laughed. ‘Very clever, Dad.’

  ‘Thought you’d appreciate that.’

  ‘Best to keep your given name,’ said Lady Rayke. ‘Easier.’

  ‘Still resolved?’ enquired Sir Philip, one last time.

  ‘Still resolved,’ Cal confirmed.

  His father nodded, stood up and came around the desk to his son’s side.

  ‘Then …,’ Sir Philip said and held out his hand, ‘welcome to the show … Michael Hogarth.’

  ***

  ‘Oh!’ cried Amanda, awakening Tempest with a grunt, ‘Cal was you! Yes, yes, the series of eighteenth-century paintings: The Rake’s Progress. By Hogarth! How clever.’

  ‘And Cal was short for Michael?’ asked Trelawney.

  ‘That’s right. I had an uncle called Michael, so I got Mikey or Mickey or Little Michael, none of which I cared for. Instead, I insisted on “Cal.”’

  ‘Makes perfect sense,’ approved Amanda.

  ‘Indeed,’ Trelawney agreed appreciatively. ‘So, next ... university?

  Hogarth grinned. ‘That’s enough for one evening. Ah, and by the way, Amanda, we should go over your new work contracts while you’re here. Once you sign it, you will be Thomas’s official consultant for all things arcane!’ he dragged out the final word dramatically, which provoked the mirthful response he had intended.

  ‘Thank you, Uncle Mike, I would like that.’

  On the way home, Amanda commented to Trelawney,

  ‘I see now why we had the impression that the story was personal for Uncle Mike.’

  ‘It could hardly be more so,’ agreed the inspector.

  ‘Only I still don’t see where Lucy comes in.’

  Trelawney smiled, keeping his eyes on the road. ‘I think that’s Mike’s intention. But I’m content to hear the tale at this pace. I have learned more about my best friend in these evenings than in all of the years I’ve known him.’

  ‘And has what you’ve learned surprised you, Inspector?’

  ‘Hm ... yes, yes it has.’

  She looked at him.

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘A good way. Mike — well, Chief Inspector Hogarth, then, of course — was always thought a dark horse at the station, but yes, he’s more than I imagined.’

  ‘Perhaps you are too.’

  ‘More than you imagine?’ he asked in amusement.

  Amanda laughed.

  ‘No. More than you imagine!’

  ‘Perhaps we all are,’ he speculated.

  ‘Even Tempest?’ she asked roguishly, looking over her shoulder at the back seat occupant.

  Trelawney chuckled. ‘Let’s not go there.’

  Chapter 8

  Vision on The Moor

  Amanda awoke to a stunningly beautiful day. Cornwall was doing April in blue and gold: an almost indigo wash sky above and all about was gilded in sunshine. She readily accepted a text invitation to a day out from Kyt. He arrived at 10.30 with a suggestion.

  ‘I thought I might take advantage of the weather and take you to see a surprising sight.’

  ‘Sounds intriguing. May I know what it is?’

  ‘Well, I was thinking that you’ve only seen the Moor when it’s bleak and overcast and connected to things you’d rather not recall. I’d like you to witness it in its true glory, and for you to carry that image with you back to Sunken Madley.’

  ‘Yes, Kyt, I would love that. Very therapeutic too!’

  ‘I hope so. We shan’t be walking far but are you ok, getting mud on those shoes.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Amanda confirmed.

  ‘Then, off we go!’

  They took the same route as the inspector had, the day they’d arrived in Parhayle. But this was a vastly different journey. On the low hedges, built of granite with earth infills, pink campion gleamed in the sunshine. The marshy land to the right was flying yellow flag iris. The dots of colour flashed by as they made the climb up onto Bodmin Moor. In places their way ran close to the River Fowey, flowing clear over the gravel, south to the sea. Amanda pointed in delight at the blue blaze of a kingfisher and at the “Caution – Otter” signs along the road.

  At length, Kyt drew up near the north shore of Dozmary Pool, and they got out of the car.

  ‘Just look at that,’ he said, blissfully. ‘Although the Trelawneys are sea folk, the Moor is in my blood even as it is in yours, Amanda. And for me, earth has few sights to show more fair than this place on a day such as this one.’ The Pool was a sky-blue mirror set with diamonds of sunlight, flickering as the wind caressed its surface into dancing light.

  Amanda clasped her hands ecstatically. Today a mistle thrush sang from a rare nearby treetop, its silver wings and white tail glinting.

  ‘How right you are, Kyt. Thank you so much for bringing me here today. It’s magical.’

  ‘I’m glad you like it
. In Cornish, Dozmary Pool is Bolla Meri: usually translated “a drop of sea”. It even has a mermaid.’ That got Amanda’s attention but there was something she wanted to know about even more.

  ‘Tell me, do any of the witch-clans own the Pool.’

  ‘Not to my knowledge. It’s in an area of the Cornwall Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty and so under special protection. That much I do know. I’m not sure if anyone can ever own it. At least in spirit. They’ve found 5000 years of settlements. Tools reaching back to the dawn of recorded Cornish history, perhaps from even a million years ago.’

  ‘There must be legends associated with it,’ Amanda remarked hopefully.

  ‘The most spurious is probably the most popular. That this is where King Arthur’s Lady of the Lake resides.’

  ‘Ah. Do we have Tennyson to thank for that one?’

  ‘I believe so. There is another. That a nefarious man called Tregeagle, a Cornish Sisyphus, still pays out on a Mephistophelian bargain. Having sold his soul to the Devil, he is now condemned to empty the Pool using only a limpet shell with a hole in it. Hunted at night by hellhounds, naturally.’

  ‘The Bodmin version of Dartmoor’s Hound of the Baskervilles?’

  ‘Just so.’

  At that moment, as they stood at the edge of Dozmary Pool, a narrow fan of ripples from near the centre crossed the surface of the water to Amanda’s feet.

  ‘Did you see that, Kyt?’

  ‘I did,’ he replied with a slight frown.

  ‘I thought ripples were always circular?’

  ‘Me too. Hm. Perhaps it’s the Old Storm Woman saying hello,’ he suggested lightly.

  ‘Well, that’s nice. I take it this pool is her home.’

  ‘She is the mermaid I mentioned and yes, she is said to live at the bottom of it, from where she brews the winds. Still, that odd fan of ripples is a first for me. But the Moor is a place of mystery. Anything could happen here. A very nasty curse was associated with it by a folklorist back in Victorian times.’

  ‘I think the Cardiubarns were responsible for most of those!’

  ‘With the Flamgoynes either tying for first place or coming a close second,’ replied Kyt ruefully. ‘Shall we stroll?’

  ‘Yes. Even the two houses look almost benign in this light. I actually don’t mind looking at them.’

  Kyt took her across the tussocks of marram to a place about halfway between the mansions. To the west was Flamgoyne and to the east reared Cardiubarn Hall. Amanda felt the grass and moss beneath her feet, then …

  ‘Is this a stone?’

  Kyt looked down at the ground where she’d stopped.

  ‘Yes, it appears like it. Not so unusual except ... this appears to have been shaped.’

  Amanda walked forward. Here was another and another, buried in the greenery.

  ‘This is ....’

  Suddenly it came, fast and furious. For the space of 20 seconds, she was there. The sharp acrid tang of smoke in her nostrils. Next, the heat and crackling sound above. A beam above her head, warping, splitting. The sound of explosions from the upper floors. Lights flying up past the window. Then the sight of people running in, running out, wands firing. Yells, bodies falling, onto the parquet, against the walls. Then she was on the stairs. There were scared faces on the flight above. Then a man. Tall, bearded, eyes of flame, coming out of a side door on the landing. Shouting, and then a burst of blazing light and he was ... gone.

  Amanda collapsed on the ground, coughing from the smoke. The air around her was clear, the sky blue, the Moor calm. Kyt was there, kneeling beside her, supporting her.

  ‘Are you all right, Amanda?’

  She regained her breath.

  ‘Oh yes, I ... I think so. I ... I don’t know.’

  ‘You saw something?’

  ‘Yes ... but I don’t understand what or why. It was like the dream I had in the car on the way here. How odd. To get such a vision on such a beautiful day.’

  ‘Do you want to tell me what you saw?’ Amanda nodded. ‘Here let’s sit near the Pool.’ He helped her towards the water. They sat, and she related the brief flashes that had presented themselves to her.

  ‘Hm, interesting,’ remarked Kyt. ‘Well, I suggest you tell your Uncle Mike.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I shall. Oh, I’m feeling better now.’

  ‘Come on, then. Let’s go and get you a cup of tea and something to eat.’

  ‘I’d like that.’

  ‘Amanda. Don’t let Dozmary upset you. I’ve been telling you a lot of nonsense. I expect that’s what set it off. I know it can look gloomy. But today it’s a jewel, a sapphire set in the emerald moor. When you have dark memories of Cardiubarn Hall or disturbing visions, think of this, how you are seeing it in this moment.’

  She smiled. ‘And with a kind friend too. Thank you, Kyt. I will.’

  They stopped at a charming row of shops, one of which was the Twisting Current Tearooms. There, Amanda enjoyed, not just a cup of reviving tea, but a rare treat: scones and jam with dairy-free clotted cream.

  ‘Well, it’s not Cornish clotted, but I can say the recipe was invented here, my flower,’ said the lady serving.

  ‘And what a triumph!’ declared Amanda. ‘Thank you, Kyt. However, did you find this gem?’

  ‘A little research; the benefits of the interweb.’

  ‘Can we come here again?’ she asked hopefully.

  ‘As often as you like. Would you like to go home now?’

  ‘No, I’m fine, really.’

  ‘In that case, how about a tour of some the Trelawney estates?’

  ‘Sounds very grand.’

  There was little walking involved. Most of the holiday cottages Kyt owned were occupied at this time of year, but Amanda enjoyed the views. Tempest remained enthroned throughout on the back seat, registering the presence of the occasional attractive feline female.

  There was one chalet Kyt did not show Amanda. It was too soon. The cottage she had stayed in as a baby, with her grandparents, when summoned to Cardiubarn Hall for intermittent inspections by the clan matriarch was, admittedly, one of the prettiest. He’d thought of asking his son or Mike for their opinion. But there was no need. Kyt knew it was too soon. Especially in the light of what she had seen on the Moor.

  Amanda was back at the cottage in time to change and then curl up with Tempest and the latest copy of Cornwall Life, until Trelawney rang the bell.

  On the way, Amanda had told Trelawney of her strange experience earlier that day. When they arrived, she repeated it to Hogarth. Trelawney was none the wiser. Hogarth nodded and said,

  ‘Hmmm. Interesting. You’re all right?’

  ‘Yes, Kyt took me for tea and scones and a tour afterwards.’

  ‘Good. By the way, mind the bathroom door; the paint might be a bit tacky.’

  After dinner, Hogarth asked,

  ‘In your vision, did you recognise any of the people?’

  ‘Faces are not really my thing, but strangely, one or maybe two of them … very vaguely,’

  ‘Interesting,’ he said again. ‘And are you really all right, Amanda?’

  ‘Yes, I’m completely recovered, I promise you. But I’d like to know if what I saw fits in somewhere important.’

  ‘All in good time, my dear, all in good time. Back to the story?’

  Trelawney smiled and nodded. Tempest, curled up in front of the fire, yawned. Amanda clapped her hands.

  ‘Yes, please!’

  Chapter 9

  Farewells, and Installation

  Cal Rayke, as he still was then, stood behind his father’s desk looking at the map.

  ‘Dad.’

  ‘Hm?’ Sir Philip looked up.

  Cal pointed to the Iberian peninsula, remembering the postage stamps he’d saved from his one of his sister’s letters.

  ‘This is Vee, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. And her husband, Harry. Between you and me and your mother, of course: a splendid fellow. I couldn’t have wished for better for Vera.
’

  ‘But all this time, you ... you let me think that you —’

  ‘Appearances, dear boy. Had to be believable.’

  It had actually been quite tricky to convince those who knew Sir Philip that his dealings with his offspring could be so harsh. There Aunt Gigi had come to the rescue, carefully seeding the discrediting rumour that, like the General in The Importance of Being Earnest, Sir Philip was essentially a man of peace in all but his domestic life.

  This had been no easy task. Like the Raykes, with her demotion to Department 14, Gigi was treated like a plague carrier. However, the trio was rescued from total isolation by the kindly Gladys the Tea Lady. She had always declared it ‘a proper shame the way Sir P and his Lady R have been treated, and him a gentleman knighted by the Queen.’ Through Gladys, the word leaked out that ‘still waters run deep and who knows what goes on behind closed doors. And that Vera has always been a flighty one to be fair — a rare handful for her parents as anyone ‘as got their own will know. Why my Daisy was ....’

  Finally, there came the last visit for the foreseeable future to the office of Sir Philip Rayke. His father was business-like.

  ‘You’ll have your Aunt Gigi as your contact. She’ll be running you, in a sense. Make sure you see her before you go.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Have you said goodbye to your mother?’

  ‘I have.’

  Cal had thought how brave she was being, giving up her son, and had said so earlier that morning.

  ‘Oh don’t admire me that much, Cal. When I was a child, so many sons went out to war and never came back. I know that mine will be alive and well. And we’ll find a way for us to meet occasionally. People say, “our children”, but of course they’re not. We’re just a way for them to come into this world and grow up. We’re just caretakers of magnificent buildings that pass into the hands of themselves. Now go and have fun!’

  Having had her hugs and last words of advice at home, she absented herself from the office for her son and husband to make their parting, as they were doing now.