Amanda Cadabra and The Strange Case of Lucy Penlowr

by Holly Bell

  ‘He must have challenged both the Cardiubarns and Flamgoynes too and won,’ remarked Hogarth. ‘My understanding is that their estates marched side by side to the water’s edge.

  ‘Well, I think it’s apocryphal,’ replied Elodie, ‘but either way, it hardly does the founder of the clan credit.’

  ‘I would agree on both counts.’

  ‘Some of the old locals called him Bokampyer,’ Elodie added. ‘Bocka means ghost, goblin.’

  ‘Hm, not the best PR for a family starting a school,’ Hogarth observed. ‘But the mansion was built.’

  ‘Growan House. “For growan minds”, was the informal slogan.’

  ‘Growan?’ Hogarth queried.

  ‘Granite,’ Elodie supplied. ‘Some said like the heart of clan.’

  Hogarth nodded, and picked up a Hobnob. ‘Two clans of great power, the Cardiubarns and the Flamgoynes. And, in between, like the filling of a sandwich — or the jam in a jammy dodger, should I say? — the Dowrkampyers.’

  Elodie smiled at the biscuit analogy.

  ‘Yes. Lesser in influence though, but thanks to investments, not so very behind in terms of wealth. There are some in the tin, by the way — jammy dodgers.’

  ‘Thank you, I noticed. All three clans bordered Cadabra land to the north?’

  ‘That’s right. But the Cadabras were no threat. Whereas, the ones either side were a different matter. So it became the desire of the Dowrkampyers to increase their status among the populace. And so they set up the school. Private. A special school for children with “special potential”. They invited local families to apply.’

  Here Elodie paused. Hogarth had the impression that she was about to pass from the historical to the personal. He busied himself with a Hobnob while she selected a chocolate digestive biscuit from the tin, and dunked it in her tea. She counted to 11 under her breath. She withdrew the biscuit, put the soaked half in her mouth, then took a few seconds to enjoy the luscious combination. At last, Elodie dusted her fingers on a napkin, then continued.

  ‘Some, perhaps most, of those selected for interviews were from parents much like my own. Ambitious. Ambitious for their children, themselves, their family name. For there was a hint of the promise of a kind of education that would grant the children something extraordinary. By those who wished to take it so, it was speculated, rumoured, whispered. The words: magical powers.’

  Chapter 16

  Hidden Extras

  ‘Quite a bit more than a private school with extras,’ observed Hogarth.

  ‘Yes. There was a secrecy about it. A feeling of the chosen few — the élite.’ Elodie’s eyes grew grave, and a slight crease appeared between her brows. ‘We were made to believe how lucky, how incredibly lucky we were ....’ She looked into the distance, then at Hogarth whom she could see was deeply concerned by what he was now hearing.

  ‘I don’t want you to think that all of those parents were bad people, Chief Inspector.’ Elodie insisted earnestly. ‘Or that they were stupid or gullible.’

  ‘Except for the ones that were,’ interjected Marielle, with dark humour. ‘Nooo, just joking.’

  ‘There is such a thing as wilful ignorance,’ put in Peter, pacifically.

  ‘I think,’ moderated Geoffrey, ‘what Elodie is trying to say, is that everyone wants to feel special, important, in some way. And when a man, especially, cannot provide for his family in the way he would wish, then being able to contribute to their present or future well-being in some other way would be particularly appealing. And that was the opportunity that Growan House was offering.’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Geoffrey,’ responded Elodie, appreciatively. ‘I must say that there were single mothers too, who were, I’m sure, experiencing exactly the same emotions.’

  ‘Of course,’ Geoffrey acknowledged readily.

  ‘Naturally they wanted the best for their children, and why not any advantage for themselves that might come as a result? So anyway, the point is that the vast majority weren’t stupid or gullible. They were just —’

  ‘— trying to do their best?’ finished Hogarth, thinking how in most cases it was both credible and laudable, but also used in others as an excuse to behave in ways that were far less so. Elodie seemed to sense his train of thought.

  ‘I’m not saying either that there weren’t also among them the mean and ambitious, and those, frankly, demented enough to readily immolate their children on the altar of their own advancement.’

  ‘Of which we had direct experience; this is not just hearsay,’ put in Peter, as a point of information.

  ‘But most,’ continued Elodie,’... how can you understand, Chief Inspector? You had to have been there.’

  Of course, Hogarth had seen it, in all the years he’d been a policeman. But Elodie was right. He’d never lived it. Never woken up to ice on the inside of the windows, mould on the damp walls, the choice between takeaways, to ease the ends of long working days, and the bills. Pay the rent, a holiday once a year somewhere cheap. Roast on Sunday, telly in the evening, beer and cigarette money. Depending. Hope for better, a better life for the kids. Lucky to have a mortgage however crippling. Trying to better yourself if you could.

  And then a rich local family wheels out what many could and did benefit from, to be fair, but what for others would turn out to be the Trojan horse ....

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he found himself saying. ‘You’re right. Everything you’ve said. Nevertheless, I must make no distinction between rich and poor. I do not have that luxury. Children and families disappeared, but also members of the Dowrkampyer clan died that night, one in particular by mysterious means. I need to know what happened. And I appreciate your taking the time to share this story with me. Please continue, Elodie. I take it you were selected to attend Growan House?’

  She nodded, looked down at her hands for a moment, then back at Hogarth.

  ‘I was never comfortable in a classroom situation. My parents were so eager for me to attend and do well. The pressure was immense. I remember my fifth birthday. — I’d been there since I was four — I said all I wanted was not to have to go to the school ....’ Elodie’s eyes were filled with the memory of past anguish. Then she breathed in, gave her head a little shake, a small brisk smile came into being, and she proceeded levelly.

  ‘I was good at being invisible. I have always been quiet, I was good at my homework, got good marks, not a major or a minor contributor in class, unobtrusive, and helpful to the slower children. Somehow I made myself indispensable. Therein lay my salvation. Something I was born knowing: never let yourself be seen to be the smartest person in the room. I never came top in anything. Second or third or a bit lower. Never bottom of the class, either. Never anything that drew attention.’

  Elodie took up her mug, sipped some tea and held it between her hands, as though for comfort during what she was about to relate. She resumed:

  ‘Little by little, they gave us and our families the feeling of being the cream of the crop. The families were encouraged only to socialise with one another, discouraged from associating with other friends, even family, until former connections were either dropped or fell away. It was all The School, The School, The School. People didn’t really have friends even within the “club” because it was all about loyalty to Growan House. It felt … wrong.’

  ‘You told your parents how you felt?’ asked Hogarth.

  ‘I tried to tell them. I didn’t have the words, the exact explanation of what it was that I wasn’t comfortable with, but I tried to express it. They refused to listen. The education was good. Didn’t I know how lucky I was? Getting a private education they never had, and they would never have been able to afford? Nice little girls appreciated what they had. I did appreciate it, didn’t I? I knew the drill. Yes, the education was good. But then they began introducing the ... special tuition.’

  ‘That’s what the school called it?’

  ‘Yes. They selected just one or two students at a time. Students who never spoke about their
sessions except in the most general terms. And then … they started to get sick.’

  ‘Just the ones who had the sessions?’

  ‘Yes, Chief Inspector. Again, I tried to tell my parents. Especially after that boy ... they said it was just an accident. I was getting more and more scared. I was trapped. What if I was next? I worked even harder to stay out of the line of sight.’

  ‘Elodie, how were the children getting sick?’ Hogarth enquired.

  ‘Nothing you couldn’t pin on something ordinary: eczema, growing pains, rashes, coughs, trembling, loss of coordination, that sort of thing. The special sessions would stop, and they’d get better a bit, and then they’d start again.’

  ‘This happened over what period of time?’

  ‘It was a terribly slow and gradual process that went on for years. Some of the students — very few – began staying at the school like boarders. Some were becoming like part of the family. They came to fewer and fewer of the ordinary classes. Then, one day, Kevin came to me.’

  ‘One of your fellow students?’

  Elodie nodded.

  ‘The eczema was dreadful. He was covered in it, getting worse and worse. His parents wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t believe it was anything to do with the school. They even had the doctors on their side. That’s when he told me ... about the basement ... about what happened there.’

  Hogarth thought he’d seen and heard a few traumatic experiences in his time and yet at that moment, chills ran down his spine.

  ‘Elodie, I have some idea of how hard this is for you, but please ... what went on there?’

  ‘It was like a laboratory. There was a special book. Security was very, very tight. During the sessions, the teacher would read from the book. There’d be experiments. With steam, vapours, herbs and liquids and what looked like electricity, like static.’

  ***

  Hogarth stopped. Amanda’s eyes had grown wide. Her face as white as a sheet, shivers running across her skin. She put a hand to her mouth murmuring,

  ‘The book.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said gently, ‘I thought this part might come as a shock.’

  ‘It must have been The Book — the spellbook, the grimoire. Why else would Lucy tell you to tell me this story?’ Then Amanda’s curiosity overcame her consternation. ‘Although I don’t see where she comes in yet.’

  Hogarth smiled at this abrupt turn.

  ‘Patience, my dear. Perhaps we should stop there.’

  ‘Well, at least I know that I didn’t imagine what happened to me then, or about the grimoire. Mind you, Lucy was looking for it too, that day when I met her in the Cardiubarn Hall crypt. It was a real thing, not just a dream.’

  ‘Very real. Yes, let’s stop there. And let’s have a nightcap. More mead, and more tea for Thomas?’ asked Hogarth, standing up.

  ‘Lovely.’ Amanda let out a long breath and leaned her head against the sofa back. ‘It’s quite a story.’

  ‘Yes please, to tea. And quite a family,’ added Trelawney.

  ‘Thomas, come and give me a hand, will you?’ asked Mike leading the way to the kitchen. Trelawney willingly followed their host. Standing by the kettle, Mike beckoned him over and lowered his voice.

  ‘Stay with Amanda tonight. I don’t want her left alone.’

  Thomas looked surprised.

  ‘Surely she’s not in danger from anyone?’

  ‘Only from her own memories. Stay with her.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Chapter 17

  Restless Night

  Trelawney turned east on the way to Amanda’s.

  ‘Are we making a stop-off?’ she asked with interest.

  ‘Just need to pop home for something,’ he replied breezily. She waited in the car until he returned with an overnight bag.

  Perhaps after he’s dropped me off, he’s going on to see a girlfriend, Amanda speculated to herself. Then she turned, on hearing a derisive snort from the furry form on the back seat.

  At Amanda’s destination, Trelawney came with her to the door.

  ‘I’m staying with you tonight,’ he explained. ‘It’s not a two-bedroom cottage just so you can fill the extra room with shopping.’

  She laughed at that.

  ‘Of course, if you wish. It is your father’s place, after all. But why?’

  ‘Your Uncle Mike. He thinks there might be some fallout from the story.’

  ‘Oh, that’s nonsense,’ Amanda replied, and yet at the same time, felt immeasurably glad that the inspector was going to be there through the night hours.

  They had cocoa and said good night. Teeth brushed and into sleepwear, each to their bed. To sleep but not to rest.

  The nightmare came as surely as Hogarth had known it would. The cauldron, the grimoire, the people in the shadows, the old woman’s voice, ‘the pretty mist’, no escape … no escape! Granny! If only Granny was there in the pit of darkness …

  Granny! Granny!

  Hands on her shoulders, gently shaking her, a voice, a voice she trusted ...

  ‘Miss Cadabra. Amanda. Wake up. It’s just a dream. Wake up, Amanda.’

  ‘Oh!’ She broke the surface into consciousness. Amanda grabbed Thomas’s arms like a life-raft. He held her close as her gasping breath calmed and her grip relaxed. He put the bedside light on, to a mwrroowl from the dozing form of Tempest, on Amanda’s feet at the end of the bed.

  ‘You’re all right,’ Thomas reassured her.

  ‘Yes ....’

  He released her gently back onto her pillows. Amanda put a hand to her chest.

  ‘Oh, that was the most vivid it’s ever been. I think I’d like to get up for a bit.’

  ‘Good idea. Come on.’ Thomas helped her into her dressing gown. She thrust her feet into slippers, and he led her into the sitting-room and to a chair by the fire. ‘Get your breath back. Do you need your inhaler?’

  ‘No, no, it’s coming back. Thank you.’

  He put on the kettle, turned on the heating and got the fire going, as Amanda sat, the numbness gradually fading. She looked up with a half-smile.

  ‘I do feel silly.’

  ‘Don’t. It’s not at all surprising. All a bit close to home, yes?’

  ‘A bit.’

  The kettle having boiled, soon they were sipping tea, and Amanda was munching on a gingernut biscuit.

  ‘You know,’ she said frankly, ‘I didn’t like it at the time, but, in retrospect, I’m glad that Uncle Mike stopped there. I have the feeling that worse is to come in this story.’

  ‘Me too. This wasn’t quite what I was expecting.’

  ‘What were you expecting, if I may ask?’

  Thomas thought. ‘I don’t know exactly what I was expecting. Something more like a report or a much simpler eyewitness account of something more ... easier to hear, I suppose’.

  ‘What exactly is so very strange about this family? I wish I could define it. Of course, there are no parents around: just siblings, as far as I can gather. Strange arrangement. And Elodie. Maybe she is a lot older than she looks. Maybe she’s just, you know vertically challenged, small, petite.’

  ‘But Mike’s sister and brother-in-law seem to have told him how old each member of the family was. Unless they were misinformed.’

  ‘Maybe. Because besides the fluency and the capability beyond her years, I don’t understand how Elodie was there, in Growan house. I mean, if she's five. —’

  ‘And a quarter,’ he added lightly.

  Amanda smiled. ‘And a quarter — how on earth could she have been at a school that burned down before she was born? It doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘And Zoe even more so.’

  ‘The time is all wrong. Even for the grownups, Marielle and Peter. Even Geoffrey. I don’t know how old he is exactly, but surely it was before his time. And even if it wasn’t, how come he isn’t telling the story?’

  ‘Maybe there’s some ... mystical time warp involved. After all, you’ve travelled back in time more than once.’


  ‘Yes, I suppose that must be it. Maybe they’re magical folk. Uncle Mike hasn’t said anything about that. But if it’s to do with the grimoire and Lucy who was looking for it, it’s reasonable to conclude that magic must be involved. But why would a child choose to travel back to such a dreadful time? Anyway, yes, I expect that’s what it is: magic. Uncle Mike’ll probably get to the time travel thing in due course.’

  ‘If the family are magical, though,’ pondered Trelawney, ‘what is their gift? If they have one. The Flamgoynes have divination, the Cardiubarns spell-weaving and the Cadabras levitation. We don’t know what the Dowrkampyers’ was. What is Lucy’s family’s magical talent?’

  ‘As you say, if they have one. Hm ... maybe they each have a different one. After all, we’ve only heard from Elodie so far.’

  ‘Yes. Perhaps we’ll hear from the others in the next instalment. How’s the tea?’

  Amanda had a sip. ‘Just right, thank you.’

  ‘Feeling any better?’ Trelawney asked gently.

  ‘Yes. Thank you for waking me. Sorry to have disturbed your sleep.’

  ‘Not at all. It was what Mike wanted me here for. I’m certain of it.’

  ‘Well,’ Amanda blushed, ‘sorry about the, er, hug.’

  ‘No. I hugged you. Medicinal,’ he grinned.

  That drew a chuckle from her. ‘I like that. Medicinal hugs.’

  Tempest jumped onto her lap and curled up.

  ‘I see your constant companion didn’t think of waking you up,’ remarked Trelawney.

  At that Tempest opened one livid eye and thought, why have a dog and bark yourself?

  The words echoed in Thomas’s head. He decided he had imagined them, and said to Amanda,

  ‘Shall I tell you about where I’m planning to take you one morning?’