Read Witch Is Why The Laughter Stopped (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 14) Online
Authors: Adele Abbott
“Who are you anyway? What’s it got to do with you?”
“I’m Jill Gooder, and I’ll tell you what it’s got to do with me. I won’t stand by and see people die just because you want them to think you’re funny.”
Just then, the door behind me opened, and in walked Maxine Jewell with two uniformed officers.
“Is this him?” She looked at me for confirmation.
“Yes, this is your man.”
“Kenny Pope, I’m arresting you.”
“What for?”
“You’re charged with causing death by the reckless use of magic.” She handcuffed him, and led him away.
“It’s okay, Maxine,” I shouted after her. “There’s no need for a thank you.”
I recognised that cough. It was a Winky cough. When I looked up from my desk, there he was, standing in front of the so-called time machine.
“Where have you been?”
“Time travelling, of course.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Where were you hiding?”
“I wasn’t hiding anywhere. I’ve travelled in time, and now I’m back.”
“And you really expect me to believe that?”
“I knew you wouldn’t, that’s why I’ve brought something back with me which will prove I’m telling the truth.”
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
“Something you may recognise.” He put a book on my desk—a children’s book.
“What’s this?”
“Take a closer look.”
I did as he asked, and it did indeed look familiar. My adoptive father had given me an identical book when I was a young child. I’d loved that book. And I mean
‘really’
loved it. It was a picture story book about animals. When you pressed the buttons on the pages, it was supposed to make a noise like an animal, but in reality it just made squeaking noises, which is why I used to call it ‘squeaky book.’
I would often go to work with Dad during the school holidays. He always asked Kathy if she wanted to come too, but she never did. She and her friends were too busy playing with their Barbies. While he was working, I’d play with my toys in the office. I often brought squeaky book with me, even though I knew Dad didn’t like it. He used to say the noise got on his nerves, and stopped him concentrating.
“Tell me what really happened, Winky. Where did you get this?”
“I’ve already told you. I have no control over where the time machine sends me. This time it sent me back just a few years to this very office. You were playing just over there.” He pointed to the corner of the room, which is where I used to play—near the sofa.
“So you’re saying you actually saw me?”
“Yes. Well, a mini-you. You were quite pretty as a young child. What went wrong?”
“Cut the cheek. What happened exactly?”
“Mini-you really liked me. So much so, you insisted on giving me your book.”
“This is total nonsense.”
“Is that your book or not?”
I flipped through the pages. Every one of them was familiar; I could remember them all. I pressed the buttons, and the book squeaked. But that still didn’t mean it was my book. Winky must have somehow found out about squeaky book, and got hold of a copy.
But then, I turned the final page, and there was my name, written in a young child’s handwriting. I could remember writing it. This
was
my book. It was ‘squeaky book.’
“Do you believe me now?” Winky jumped onto my desk.
“Yes—err—no—err. I don’t know what to believe.”
“You saw your name, right? You know it’s the genuine article.”
“Did you see my dad while you were there?”
“He’d just stepped out. I think he was in the outer office with someone. I could hear voices out there.”
“Why didn’t you wait for him to come back into the office?”
“And how do you think that would have played out? I’m a time-travelling cat. How was I supposed to explain that to him? It’s not like he could have understood me anyway. He wasn’t a sup, remember?”
“So you just talked to mini-me?”
“That’s right. We chatted while you were playing in the corner, and then you gave me squeaky book. Anyway, on to more important issues. I think you’ll agree that I’ve proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is indeed a time machine.”
What could I say? He’d brought back squeaky book. How else could he have done it other than by travelling back in time?
“I suppose so.”
“Good. Well, in that case, there’s just the small matter of making good on the bet. We said two hundred pounds, I believe?”
“I’ll have to write you a cheque.”
“No cheques.” He passed me a slip of paper.
“What’s this?”
“It’s my account number and sort code. You can make a bank transfer.”
“Okay.” I brought up my online banking, and authorised the transfer of two hundred pounds to Winky’s account. I was so stunned it didn’t even occur to me to ask how a cat had managed to open a bank account.
“Winky, if this machine of yours really does work—”
“What do you mean,
‘If it works’?
I’ve proven it does.”
“Okay. In that case, maybe I could try it too?”
“There’s a slight problem there. The machine can’t be operated too often. We’ll need to wait awhile before we can use it again.”
“How long?”
“At least a week.”
“That long?”
“That’s just the way it is. A time machine is a very complex piece of kit. These things can’t be rushed.”
“Okay, but then I want to go back in time with you. I’d love to see my dad again.”
“We can try, but like I said before, I can’t guarantee where or when we’ll end up.”
***
My mind was still spinning with thoughts of time travel as I made my way to Ever A Wool Moment. I wanted to let Grandma know about her advertising.
“Are you all right?” Grandma said when I walked into the back office.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? You look a bit—I don’t know—not quite with it.”
“I’m okay. Do you believe in time travel, Grandma?”
“Of course I don’t. Why?”
“No reason. Look, I wanted to see you because I bumped into Ma Chivers, Alicia, and Cyril near Cuppy C.”
“I was beginning to hope those three had disappeared for good, along with all the other wicked witches.”
“No such luck. It seems they’re back.”
“Okay, but you didn’t need to make a special journey to tell me that.”
“There’s something else. Someone is sabotaging your advertising.”
“What do you mean sabotaging it?”
“Someone has changed the ads to read ‘Never A Wool Moment,’ and added lots of derogatory comments.”
Her face turned red with rage, and her wart looked as though it might explode at any moment.
“Who did it? Do you know?”
“I don’t have any proof, but when I bumped into Ma Chivers, she said something weird. She said, she didn’t feel the need to ‘advertise’ the fact that they were back in Candlefield, and she emphasised the word ‘
advertise
.’ Then all three of them laughed. I didn’t clock it at the time, but as soon as they’d gone, I realised she might have been dropping a not too subtle hint about what she’d done.”
“Thanks for telling me, Jill. I’ll sort this out. Ma Chivers will be laughing on the other side of her face when I’ve finished with her.”
“Don’t do anything rash.”
“Rash? That’s a good idea. I’ll give them a rash—all three of them. A very itchy rash.”
“Okay, well I’d better get back to the office.”
“Before you go, is it true what I’ve heard about Fester?”
“It’s Lester.”
“Whatever. A little bird told me he’s going to be working as a Grim Reaper.”
“That’s right, but Aunt Lucy isn’t very happy about it.”
“Whyever not? If ever a man was cut out to be a Grim Reaper, then Fester is that man.”
***
As soon as I got back to the office, Mrs V collared me.
“There was a man here to see you. You’ve only just missed him.”
“Why didn’t you ask him to wait?”
“I did. I told him you wouldn’t be long, but he said he couldn’t hang around. He seemed rather nervous. He said his name was Damon, and that you knew him.”
“What did he look like?”
“He was tall, with red hair and a red beard.”
Back at my desk, I racked my brain for anyone called Damon, but drew a blank. The description Mrs V had given me, matched that of the man who had called at my house. That man had talked to me as though I was a long-lost friend, but as far as I could remember, I’d never seen him before in my life.
Just then, a chill fell over the office. I was in contact with so many ghosts now, I wasn’t sure which one of them was about to turn up.
It was my father, and he wasn’t alone. The pretty, petite woman with him looked a little shell-shocked.
“Oh my!” She gasped. “That’s rather a strange experience, isn’t it?”
My father took hold of her hand. “Are you okay, Blodwyn?”
“Yes, I think so. It’s just that I’ve never attached myself to a human before. It’s hard work, isn’t it?”
“It gets easier.” My father reassured her. “The first time I did it, I was exhausted too.” He looked at me for the first time. “Jill, this is Blodwyn. I told you about her.”
“Nice to meet you, Blodwyn.”
“Nice to meet you too, Jill. I’m sorry, I’m a little disoriented. It’s the first time I’ve done this.”
“That’s okay. I’m used to seeing ghosts on their first attachment.”
Suddenly, the room became even colder, and my mother’s ghost appeared. She was standing right next to Blodwyn.
“Oh? I’m so sorry, Jill. I had no idea that you had visitors.” She turned to my father. “I’m surprised you remembered you had a daughter, Josh.”
“Are you really going to drag that up again, Darlene? Jill knows the situation. I’ve already admitted to her that I wasn’t a good father. I’ve apologised, and she’s been gracious enough to accept my apology, and agree to make a new start.”
“Jill is naïve. She doesn’t know you like I do.” My mother turned to Blodwyn, who had yet to say a word since my mother’s arrival. “And you, lady. I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for.”
“I—” Blodwyn began, but my father talked over her. “Don’t try to poison Blodwyn with your hatred for me, Darlene.”
“If this woman had any sense, she’d walk away now and keep on walking.”
“Don’t interfere in my life, Darlene. I don’t try to tell you how to live your life—or death—whatever this is. I hear you’ve hooked up with some Welshman.”
“Welsh-Italian, if you must know.”
That was my cue to step in to try to defuse the situation.
“Blodwyn is Welsh-Italian too,” I said.
“Italian-Welsh.” Blodwyn corrected me.
My mother looked down her nose at Blodwyn.
“I think we should leave.” My father took his new girlfriend’s hand. “It’s obvious that my ex-wife did this deliberately.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” my mother spat back. “Don’t you think I have better things to do than waste my time with you and your new bit of skirt?”
“Hey!” My father reacted. “Do not refer to Blodwyn as a ‘bit of skirt.’ Come on Blodwyn, we’re leaving.”
And with that, the two of them disappeared.
“Mum! What was that all about?”
“What? I didn’t even know they were here.”
“Please don’t treat me like an idiot. Of course you knew they were here. That’s why you came.”
“I was only trying to do the woman a favour—trying to warn her off. She’d thank me one day.”
“Look, I know you and my father are never going to see eye to eye.”
“That’s the understatement of the year.”
“But, I’m determined to at least give him the chance to make amends, and if he’s now with Blodwyn, then I’m going to try to build a relationship with her too.”
“Jill, you can’t do—”
“Please.” I put my hand up. “You have to respect my wishes.”
“Just don’t come running to me when everything goes wrong. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
And with that, my mother disappeared too.
Sheesh! Who knew ghosts could be such hard work?
When I left the office for the day, the last person I expected to bump into, was Mindy.
“Hi, Jill.”
“Hello, Mindy,” I said, coldly.
“Do you think I could have a quick word?”
“It will have to be quick. I’m in a hurry.”
“Yeah, sure. I understand. Look, I know that Miles and I have caused you and your family a few problems.”
“You think?”
“Okay, more than a few. But to be honest, I’m really tired of all this ill feeling between us. It’s doing my head in. I just want to live a quiet life, and get on with our business without fighting all the time.”
“You’re talking to the wrong person. Don’t you think perhaps you should be saying this to Miles? He was the one who had the idea to plant rats in Cuppy C. He was the one who opened a shop straight across the road from Grandma, tried to undercut her, and then used all sorts of underhand tactics to gain an unfair advantage. He even tried to open a P.I. business in Washbridge. I’m not sure why you’re talking to me about stopping the aggravation.”
“I know. You’re right, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
“Complicated how? Just tell him to stop, or you’ll leave him.”
“I could never leave Miles.”
“Well then, you’d better convince him to stop.”
“I wish I could, but he’s being influenced by other people.”
“By who?”
“Can’t you guess?”
“Not really.”
“Come on, Jill. You must have seen them talking to him, giving him ideas.”
“Do you mean Flora and Laura?”
“Who else? I can’t believe the twins have been stupid enough to give those two girls somewhere to live and a job. They’re bad news, Jill. They’re seriously bad news.”
I’d had my own suspicions about Flora and Laura for some time.
“What do you mean, Mindy? I’m going to need more than that. What exactly is it they’re planning?”
“I don’t know. They don’t seem to trust me. They always try to catch Miles on his own, and then when I ask what they’ve been talking about, he’s very cagey. It’s almost as though they’ve told him not to share the information with me.”
“Are you sure you’re not just jealous of them?”
“No!” She looked outraged. “Miles and I are as close as we’ve ever been. But there’s something dark about those two girls. Something evil. I just thought I should tell you. Maybe there’s something you can do to get rid of them. Anyway, I have to go, otherwise Miles will wonder where I am.”
What was I to make of that? I’d always had serious doubts about Flora and Laura, but I wasn’t sure I could trust Mindy either. I wouldn’t have put it past Miles to have orchestrated the whole thing. He could have persuaded Mindy to come to me with a sob story, just to get me to react and try to influence the twins. Before I said anything to them, I needed to find out more about the two ice maidens.
***
Thankfully, when I got home, there wasn’t a train-stop blocking my way. I’d just got out of the car when I heard someone calling to me. It was Mrs Rollo. She was waving from her front door—beckoning me over. I just hoped she hadn’t made any more cakes. It was getting more and more difficult to pretend to be appreciative of the monstrosities that she kept producing.
“Jill, I’m glad I caught you. There’s been a man hanging around.”
“What man? Hanging around where?”
“Around your house. I’ve seen him at least three times today. The first time I saw him, he was standing across the road, looking at your house. I thought it was a bit strange, but didn’t worry too much about it. But then, a little later on, I was in the back garden seeing to my petunias, when I heard someone. I thought it was you or Jack, but when I looked over the fence, it was that same man. He was in your back garden. I asked who he was and what he was doing there. He said he knew you, and asked when you’d be back. I said it would be this evening. Then I saw him again, knocking at your door—it can’t have been more than an hour ago. I came out, but as soon as I opened the door, he left.”
“What did he look like?”
“He was very tall, with red hair and a red beard. Do you know him?”
“No, I don’t think so. And you say he was here just over an hour ago?”
“Yes. I thought about calling the police the third time I saw him, but I didn’t like to in case he really was a friend of yours. Anyway, I thought I should let you know.”
“Thanks, Mrs Rollo.” I turned to leave.
“Hold on a minute, Jill. I’ve made some muffins, and although I say it myself, they’re rather delicious. I’ll give you some for you and Jack.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks.”
She disappeared back into the house, and moments later, returned with a plateful of muffins. Allegedly.
“There are rather a lot there, Mrs Rollo.”
“I know you young people have large appetites. And it’s a shame to see them go to waste.”
When I took the plate from her, it was so heavy that I almost dropped it. What on earth had she made the muffins with? Lead shot?
“Thanks very much, Mrs Rollo. I’m sure Jack will love these.”
“My pleasure, dear. You can let me have the plate back any time. There’s no hurry.”
I put the plate of muffins on the breakfast bar, and then picked one of them up. It felt like a rock in my hand. I tried to break it in half, but it was solid.
I’d been home for no more than an hour when there was a knock at the door. Maybe it was the mysterious character who had been following me around—Damon or whatever his name was. If so, I was going to find out once and for all who he was, and what this was all about. But when I answered the door, it was Blake, and I could see that something was wrong.
“Can I come in, Jill?”
“Yes, of course.” I led the way through to the living room. “Are you okay, Blake?”
“No, not really.”
“What’s happened?”
“It’s Jen.”
“Is she all right?”
“She’s fine. At least, she’s not ill or anything.”
“What’s happened then?”
“It’s my own stupid fault. I’d made myself a cup of green tea; Jen doesn’t like it. I was carrying it upstairs when I tripped and spilled it on the landing. Have you ever spilled green tea, Jill?”
“I can’t say I have.”
“It leaves one heck of a stain. Jen was having a shower at the time, so I thought I’d be able to sort it out before she noticed. I hadn’t realised that she’d heard me trip, and had opened the bathroom door to check what was going on. She saw.”
“Saw what?”
“I knew I’d never get the stain out using normal cleaning materials, so I used the ‘take it back’ spell. The carpet was as good as new. I was feeling quite pleased with myself, but then I glanced up and saw Jen. She’d seen me use magic.”
“What did you do?”
“What could I do? There was no way I could talk my way out of that. I had no choice. I had to use the ‘forget’ spell on her.”
“I can understand why you’re upset. I don’t like using the ‘forget’ spell on Jack either, but sometimes it’s unavoidable. It’s just the price of living with a human.”
“That’s not it. I could live with that.”
“What is it then?”
“The spell doesn’t seem to have worked.”
“What do you mean?”
“For a while, everything seemed to be okay. She was a little confused, like humans are after you’ve cast the ‘forget’ spell on them. But then later, she asked how I’d got rid of the stain. Somehow, she’d remembered that I’d spilled the tea. Fortunately, she hadn’t remembered that I’d used magic to remove it. But she shouldn’t have remembered any of it. It’s like the ‘forget’ spell didn’t work properly. I made some silly excuse and left. That’s why I’m here now. I need your help.”
“What can I do?”
“You’re the most powerful witch. If
you
cast the ‘forget’ spell on Jen, it’s bound to work.”
“I wouldn’t feel right about doing that.”
“Please, Jill. I don’t know what else to do.”
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“Please—I’m desperate.”
“Okay then.”
Blake led the way across the road.
“Blake?” Jen came rushing to the door. “Where did you go?” Then she spotted me standing behind him. “Oh? Jill. I didn’t know—”
I cast the ‘forget’ spell.
Jen looked a little dazed, but then smiled. “Come in, Jill. I’ll make us all a drink.”
While she was in the kitchen, I whispered to Blake, “You have to be more careful in future. I can’t do this again.”
“I know.” He sighed. “It was bad enough when I knew I had the ‘forget’ spell to fall back on if something went wrong. What will I do now? I don’t know if I can carry on like this.”
“What alternative is there?”
“I could tell her the truth—that I’m a wizard.”
“Are you being serious?”
“Yeah. Absolutely.”
“Don’t you realise what the consequences would be?”
“Yes, but you must have heard the stories. There are supposedly some couples, humans and sups, living together in Washbridge, where the sup has come clean with their partner. It can work if they both agree never to speak of it in public. That way the Rogue Retrievers never get to hear about it.”
“I’ve heard the same stories, but do we actually know they’re true? It’s a very big risk to take. If you tell Jen, there’s no un-telling her, and once she knows, there’s no way of knowing how she’ll react. She only has to tell one person—just one person—and if word gets back to Candlefield, the Rogue Retrievers will have no option but to take you back there. Do you really want to risk that?”
“I don’t know what to do.” He shook his head. “Carrying on like this seems impossible. Surely, being honest with Jen is better than this deceit. You must feel the same about Jack.”
“Of course I do. I hate lying to Jack, but I’ve never seriously considered telling him. The risks are too high. You have to think this through, Blake. Don’t do anything rash.”
“Okay.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
It was hard seeing Blake upset like that. Not just because I felt sorry for him, but because it made me even more aware of my own circumstances. It was like living on a knife edge all the time—always worried that something I might do or say would give the game away.
What would happen if Jack did find out I was a witch? Or if the ‘forget’ spell lost its effectiveness over a period of time when used on the same person? If I was taken back to Candlefield, it wasn’t just Jack I’d lose. I’d never see Kathy, Peter and the kids again either. It made me wonder if having a human as a partner was really such a good idea. But it was too late to worry about that now. I thought the world of Jack, and couldn’t imagine life without him. But could I really keep my secret from him indefinitely?
Jack didn’t get home until eight o’clock because he’d been bowling with Megan. I hadn’t been thrilled about the idea, but as he rightly pointed out, they needed to have at least one practice session together before the tournament. He’d asked if I wanted to go with them, but to be honest, I couldn’t really bear the thought of watching those two together. At least this way I could pretend he was working late.
That was
until
he rolled in with a big smile on his face.
“How was the bowling?”
“Very good. Megan is really hot.”
“Sorry?”
“At bowling, I mean. She beat me hands down.”
“It’s a good thing you’re such a good loser, then.”
“I didn’t enjoy getting beaten, but if she’s going to be my partner in the mixed doubles, then it’s a good thing. She was really on fire. Everybody seemed to be watching her.”
“What was she wearing?”
“Oh, the usual. Those shorts of hers and a vest top.”
“No wonder everyone was watching her.”
“Don’t be catty, Jill. It doesn’t suit you. What about you? How was your day?”
“Same old, same old. Mrs Rollo gave us some muffins. They’re on the breakfast bar.”
“What are they like?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t dared try one. And to be honest, unless you’re fully paid up with your dental insurance, I wouldn’t recommend you do either. They’re like rocks. Have you had anything to eat?”
“Yeah, we grabbed a hot dog at the bowling alley. I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea, though.”
“You know where the kettle is. And while you’re at it, you can make one for me.”
We sat at the breakfast bar to drink our tea. I was munching my way through a small plateful of custard creams. They helped to take away the images of Megan and Jack bowling together.
“I heard some shocking news today,” Jack said, more serious now. “You must keep this under your hat because it hasn’t yet been released to the press.”
“You know me. I’m the soul of discretion.”