by Adele Abbott
“I’m not doing that. It would be totally unethical.”
“There, in a nutshell, is your problem. How do you ever expect to make any money if you insist on being ethical?”
“I realise that’s not an impediment you suffer from.”
“Dead right it’s not. And, another thing, are you ever going to get that replacement sign installed?”
“Thanks for reminding me. Mr Tune promised it would be here this week, but I ought to give him a call, just to be sure.”
“A Sign Of The Times. Terry Tune singing.”
“Terry, it’s Jill Maxwell. When we spoke last week, you said that you’d definitely be installing my replacement sign this week. I just wanted to make sure that was still the case.”
“Absolutely. The sign is already finished. It should be installed on Wednesday. Thursday at the latest.”
“Excellent. Look, Terry, I’m sure you’re familiar with all of the problems I’ve had with this particular sign.”
“Indeed I am.”
“That’s why I’d like you to do me a favour.”
“I will if I can.”
“Would you snap a photo of the sign and text it to me? That way, if there are any issues, you can address them before it’s installed.”
“No problem. I’ll send it over to you in a couple of minutes.”
“Thanks, Terry.”
Good as his word, a few minutes later, my phone pinged with a text message. With my fingers crossed, I took a tentative look at the photo, and much to my delight, the sign was exactly as specified. At long last, I was going to get my sign. Thank goodness.
Betty Longbottom came bursting through the door, with Mrs V in hot pursuit.
“How could you?” Betty yelled at me.
“I’m sorry, Jill.” Mrs V shot Betty a look. “I did ask her to wait out there.”
“It’s okay, Mrs V.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Very well.”
“What’s wrong, Betty?” I said.
“I thought you were a friend of mine, Jill.”
“What’s happened? Why are you so upset?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know. Rhonda told me what you did. How could you go behind my back and steal it away from me like that?”
“That isn’t what happened.”
“So how come Rhonda is going to make a reality show about you now?”
“She isn’t.”
“Don’t lie to me, Jill. I spoke to her not twenty minutes ago.”
“Take a seat, will you, Betty?”
“I’d rather stand.”
“Sit down!”
Stunned by my tone, she did as I said.
“How could you?” Her anger had subsided, and she now looked on the verge of tears.
“First of all, Rhonda approached me, not the other way around.”
“Even so, you knew how much this meant to me.”
“In that case, I suggest you go and talk to Rhonda again tomorrow.”
“What good would that do?”
“I intend calling her later today, to tell her that I’m not interested.”
“You’re not?” Betty’s face lit up. “That’s great. Err, what I meant to say is why not?”
“I’ve given it a lot of thought, and it’s really not for me. I value my privacy far too much.”
“Is that definite?” Betty wiped her eyes. “You aren’t going to change your mind later, are you?”
“No, I’m sure this is the right decision.”
“I’m sorry for what I said before.” She stood up. “I was just upset.”
“That’s okay. I hope Rhonda agrees to do the programme with you now.”
“She will, trust me. Or I’ll be forced to kill her.” Betty started for the door. “Just kidding.”
Knowing Betty as I did, I wasn’t totally convinced that she was.
Winky jumped onto my desk. “What do you mean, you’re not going to do the TV show?”
“Just what I said. It’s not for me.”
“Isn’t that just typical? You’re so selfish. It’s all me, me, me, with you, isn’t it? What about me and the old bag lady? You’re taking away our chance for stardom.”
“Don’t pretend you care about Mrs V. You’re just annoyed that you won’t get the chance to be on TV.”
“Why would you turn it down? It’s basically free publicity for the business, and who knows what else it could lead to.”
“Like I said to Betty, I value my privacy. And, anyway, it isn’t just the issue of privacy. There’s the ‘M’ word to consider too.”
“Mediocre? Of course you are, but so are most of the people on reality shows. That’s precisely why I would have made such an impact.”
“Not mediocre. Magic! I can’t run the risk of giving the game away. I already have Daze on my back.”
“And that’s why you’re going to deny me a chance of fame and fortune? It’s just like I said, pure selfishness!”
***
I could stand no more of Winky’s snide comments and judgemental looks, so I magicked myself over to Cuppy C.
What the—?
“What do you think of it?” Pearl said.
“I—err—I’m lost for words.”
“Which half do you like the best?” Amber asked.
On my previous visit to Cuppy C, I’d been introduced to the uniforms that the twins had purchased for themselves and their staff. One half of the jacket and trousers was turquoise, and the other half was pink. The twins seemed delighted with them, but I thought they looked rather silly. But that was nothing compared to what greeted me now.
It was true that Cuppy C had been in need of a lick of paint for some months, but I really wasn’t sure the new colour scheme worked. Yes, you guessed it: One half of the room was now turquoise, and the other half was pink.
“Jill?” Amber pressed. “Which half do you think looks best?”
“I—err—I like both halves equally.”
“The turquoise half is much more popular with the customers,” Pearl claimed.
“No it isn’t!” Amber said. “The pink half is much more popular. See for yourself.”
The two of them began to count the number of customers in their respective half of the room.
“Fifteen,” they said in unison.
“It seems both halves are equally popular,” I said.
“Which side are you going to sit in, Jill?” Amber gestured towards the pink half of the room.
“Why don’t you sit over here?” Pearl stepped into the turquoise half.
I had no intention of taking sides, so I moved one of the tables until one half of it was in the turquoise side of the room, and the other half in the pink side.
“Have either of you met Martin yet?”
“Only briefly, at Mum’s house,” Amber said. “He’s very handsome.”
“When are you going to meet him, Jill?” Pearl asked.
“Tomorrow night. He had to go back home for a few days, apparently.”
“Where exactly is his home?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.”
“Are you nervous about meeting him?” Pearl took a sip of her milkshake.
“I’m terrified. It was weird enough when I met you two for the first time, but this is my brother. My actual big brother.”
“It’ll be fine,” Amber said. “I’ve always wished I had a brother. Instead of her.”
“Cheers, pal.” Pearl stuck out her tongue at her sister. “Hey, Jill, would you like to hear our brilliant new idea?”
“You’re not going to paint the tables and chairs turquoise and pink too, are you?”
“Of course not. That would be silly. We’re going to introduce a Cuppy C loyalty card.”
“As ideas go, that’s not bad, actually. How come I didn’t get one when I ordered my coffee?”
“We don’t have them yet. They are on order, though.”
“Won’t it be expensive? I’m surprised you can afford to do it after splashing out on the uniforms and redecorating.”
“It actually hasn’t cost us very much at all.”
“When will it start?”
“If all goes to plan, we should be able to launch it this weekend.”
***
When I arrived back at the office, Jules was talking to Mrs V.
“Hi, Jill.”
“Hello, stranger.”
“I hope you don’t mind me popping in like this.”
“Of course not. Did Winky contact you?”
Both she and Mrs V gave me a puzzled look. This is what comes of speaking before I’ve engaged my brain.
“Winky?” Jules laughed. “What do you mean?”
“Did I say Winky? I meant to say—err—LinkedIn. I thought maybe you’d had a message through there.”
“I’m not on LinkedIn.”
“Oh? Anyway, it’s lovely to see you. How are things?”
“Really good, thanks. Dexter and I are planning to get married next year.”
“That’s fantastic.”
“If we send you an invitation, will you come this time?”
“Of course.”
“I only ask because you didn’t turn up to the engagement party.”
“That was because of Jack’s work thing. We’ll definitely make it to the wedding.”
“Great.”
“I have something here that might interest you.” I dug into my bag. “It’s a voucher for a free beauty audit at Nailed-It.”
“Thanks, Jill. What exactly is a beauty audit?”
“I have no idea, but seeing as how it’s free, you may as well check it out.”
“Do you have any more of those vouchers?” Mrs V said.
“Yeah, why?”
“Could I have one?”
“Of course you can. There you go. Knock yourself out.”
“I’d better be going.” Jules started for the door. “I only popped in to say hello.”
Winky was rolling around the floor in hysterics.
“What’s tickling you?”
“A beauty audit for the old bag lady? Can you imagine what the results of that are likely to be? Beyond help. Don’t call us, we’ll call you.”
“Don’t be so unkind. You’re no oil painting yourself.”
He was still laughing five minutes later when his phone rang again.
“The Winkmeister speaking. Hey, Sonya, long time no speak. Me? Yeah, I’m doing fine, thanks. How about you? Great. A party? When? Yeah, I can make that. Are you still living in the same place? Cool, I’ll see you on Thursday night.”
“One of your lady friends, I assume?”
“That was Sonya the Song. She and I walked out together for a while a few years ago.”
“Walked out together? In case you hadn’t noticed, this isn’t the Victorian era.”
“We kind of drifted apart, but now she’s asked me to go to a party.”
“That’s nice.”
“She probably wants to get back with me.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Who wouldn’t want to get back with this hunk?”
***
Little Jack was behind the counter in The Corner Shop.
“Hello there, Jill. How are you today?”
“Very well, thanks.”
“You’re probably wondering why I’ve reverted to my conventional stilts.”
“Actually I hadn’t even—”
“I’ll tell you why. Those spring-loaded ones caused me nothing but grief. If you don’t get the calibration just right, it can have disastrous effects. As I found out to my cost when I was catapulted across the room and ended up face first in the cooler cabinet.”
“Goodness. Were you hurt?”
“No, but the crinkle chips took one heck of a bashing. It’s lucky for me that Lucy was there to pull me out.”
“That was lucky.” I glanced down the shop. “I see that your drinks machine has gone.”
“That’s right. People were coming in here just for the free drinks, without actually buying anything. It was costing me a small fortune, so I had to get rid of it. But for good customers, such as yourself, I’m always willing to make a brew. Would you care for a drink now?”
“No, thanks. I do have a request, though.”
“More cocktail umbrellas?”
“No, I won’t be needing any more of those for the foreseeable future. However, I am in need of some sugar mice. Do you happen to sell them? I checked the confectionery aisle, but I couldn’t see any.”
“We certainly do. They’re in the rodent-fancy section, just down there on the right.”
Ron hadn’t specified which colour sugar mice he preferred, so I bought a mixture. Hopefully, that would ensure he kept the slate vultures at bay.
***
Back home, I put the bag of sugar mice on the table.
“Ooh! I haven’t had one of those for ages.” Jack’s eyes lit up and he tried to grab one, but I slapped his hand away.
“Get off! They’re not for you.”
“Come on, you can spare one.”
“They aren’t for me either. These are for the gargoyle who lives on the roof of my office building.”
“Any excuse so you don’t have to share.”
Chapter 3
When I’d finished my breakfast, there was still no sign of Jack. I figured that he must have rolled over and gone back to sleep, so I went upstairs to wake the lazy so and so before he was late for work.
But when I walked into the bedroom, the bed was empty.
“Jack?”
“In here.” His voice came from inside the spare bedroom.
“What are you doing in here? And why are you still in your pyjamas? Do you realise what time it is? You’re going to be late for work.”
“I’ve got the day off.”
“How come?”
“They owe me a couple of days from when I had to take that course on the weekend.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be off?”
“I did, but as usual, you weren’t listening.”
“I’ve just taken on a new case, so I can’t take the day off with you. What are you planning on doing?”
“I thought I’d work on my railway.”
“All day?”
“There’s a lot to do.” He pointed to a carrier bag. “I bought a few accessories yesterday.”
“I hope your new hobby isn’t going to bankrupt us.”
“Provided I don’t spend as much on it as you spend on custard creams, I think we’ll be okay.”
Harsh, but true.
There were two giant boomerangs standing on next-door’s driveway.
“Morning, Tony. Morning, Clare. Let me guess. Is it AustraliaCon?”
“I wish it was.” Claire’s muffled voice came from inside the yellow boomerang. “I would have worn a koala costume instead of this awful thing. It’s doing my back in having to stand at this angle.”
“It’s actually BoomerCon,” Tony said. “We had a heck of a time finding these costumes. Our normal suppliers said there hadn’t been much demand for them recently.”
“I’m going inside to take this off, Tony.” Claire started for the door. “My back is killing me.”
As I drove down the road, I noticed a red van parked outside of the Normals’ house. On the side of it, in big white letters, were the letters WWE. Surely Norm and Naomi weren’t into wrestling? Neither of them seemed to have the physique for it.
***
I didn’t feel as though I was firing on all cylinders, so after parking the car, I took a walk down the high street to Coffee Games for a caffeine fix.
“Hello, Jill.” Norman and Tonya were headed in the other direction.
“Hi, Norman.”
Tonya looked at me with that familiar blank expression of hers; she clearly had no idea who I was.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me, No
rman?” She tugged at his arm.
What did I tell you? I’ve had goldfish with longer memories than this woman.
“It’s Jill,” he said. “You know Jill.”
“I don’t think so. I never forget a face.”
“We’re on our way to the travel agent,” Norman said. “Aren’t we, Tonya?”
“Yes, we’re going to book the holiday of a lifetime.”
That was possibly the first time I’d ever seen her crack a smile.
“Lucky you. Where are you planning on going?”
“To Hawaii.”
“Gosh, you really are pushing the boat out.”
“No, we’ll be flying there,” Norman corrected me.
“Right. That’s going to cost you a pretty penny.”
“I had a stroke of luck. I managed to pick up a Blue Diamond for just under six grand.”
“That’s a bottle top, right?”
“Not just any bottle top. One of the rarest. Anyway, I managed to flip it within a week for—go on, guess how much.”
“Eight thousand?”
“Thirteen. I more than doubled my money, so we’re going to book the holiday on the strength of that.”
“Good for you. I hope you both have a lovely time.”
There simply wasn’t any justice. There was I, working my fingers to the bone all day every day, and we could barely afford a week in Skegness. And then there was Mastermind, Norman, who had just made seven thousand pounds in a matter of days, by buying and selling bottle tops.
I was still seething over the injustice of it all when I arrived at Coffee Games. Why couldn’t Jack take up collecting bottle tops instead of ten-pin bowling and model railways? Maybe then I’d be able to go on exotic holidays too.
There were some weird squeaking noises inside the coffee shop, and several people were walking around with pillows in their hands.
Piers was behind the counter, but instead of taking my order, he simply squeaked at me.
“Morning, Piers. What’s going on in here?”
“I’m a little piggy.”
“O—kay?” Like that explained it. “Any chance of a coffee?”
“Sure. What can I get you?”
