Witch Is When the Penny Dropped (13 page)

Chapter 19

I was still smiling to myself the next morning. It had been cruel of me to tell Aunt Lucy about the twin’s abysmal performance on The Perfect Couple, but come on—it was funny. No doubt they’d give me the silent treatment the next time I went to Cuppy C, but it was still worth it.

“Morning, Jill.” Betty said, as she walked down the corridor towards me.

“Morning. I see your toe is better.”

“Shh!” She put a finger to her lips.

Before I could say anything else, I heard footsteps behind me. It was Norman the mastermind. He walked past me without a second glance. He had eyes only for Betty.

“Thanks for coming to pick me up,” Betty said.

I caught her gaze, and she gave me a wink.

“Put your arm over my shoulder,” Norman said, and then began to help the hobbling Betty out to his car.

Betty, you crafty little minx.

***

It was like the good old days—Mrs V was back on the scarves.

“Jill, I think I should warn you I may have upset your grandmother.”

“It’s easily done. What did you do?”

“Nothing really. It’s hardly my fault they asked me to do it rather than her, is it?”

I loved it when she talked in riddles. Especially first thing in the morning when I was still half asleep.

“Who asked you to do what?”

“Scarves Around Washbridge.”

There had to be more than that, so I waited. And waited.

“Should I know what that is?”

“Sorry, dear. I spend so much time in yarnie circles I sometimes forget you aren’t in the loop. Scarves Around Washbridge is a charity event organised by the Yarn Council. It’s in aid of those incapacitated through knitting.”

“I hadn’t realised it was such a dangerous activity.”

“You’d be surprised. Those needles can be rather sharp. I’ve seen some things. Take Sheila Pearce—her nose may never be the same again. I have a photo somewhere—”

“No, it’s okay. So what does this have to do with Grandma?”

“They have asked me to officially open this year’s event. Your grandmother is a little miffed according to my Twitter feed.”

“Hold on. Did you say Twitter?”

“Yes. Hashtag ScarvesAroundWashbridge.”

“You’re on Twitter?”

“Of course. The yarnies love to tweet.”

It was at times like this that I realised I was being left behind by the digital age. It came to something when my elderly PA and my cat were more clued up than I was.

***

The Bugle had run a story which confirmed the police had now connected the Gina Peel murder and the Anton Michaels murder. I doubted the story had been based on an official police announcement; it was more likely to have come from one of the Bugle’s ‘sources’ inside the police force. It seemed to me that it all revolved around the apartment where Gina Peel had been murdered. Based upon what the plumber had told me, there was a strong possibility that someone had deliberately sabotaged the pipes to get Gina out of her own apartment. The questions were:

- who had given her access to the apartment where she was murdered?

- how were Reg Peel’s fingerprints in that apartment and on the murder weapon when he’d died in a climbing accident two years before?

- what was Anton Michaels’ role in all of this, and why had he been murdered?

After some research, I managed to trace the property record for the apartment where Gina had died. It had last changed hands just over two years ago—when Anton Michaels purchased it. The owner prior to that was a Ms Sylvia Long who fortunately still lived locally, and who had agreed to talk to me.

Sylvia Long had obviously moved up in the world. She now lived in a large detached house in the leafier part of Washbridge. It was the kind of area where the residents stuck pictures of flowers on their wheelie bins.

“Do come in.” Sylvia led me into a huge conservatory which looked out over a beautifully manicured garden.

“Tea?”

“Thanks.”

She rang a hand-bell, and an elderly woman appeared. “Tea for two please, Jean.”

Jean scurried away to make the tea. Sylvia puffed on an e-cigarette which smelled like the gerbil cage I’d had as a kid.

We made small talk until the tea arrived. In fact, that’s not strictly speaking true. Sylvia made small talk—I smiled and nodded at the appropriate points.

“I assume you heard about what happened at your old apartment?”

“I did. That poor woman. It’s the best thing I ever did—moving out of there. It’s beginning to look as though the place might be cursed.”

“Did you know that the person you sold the apartment to was also dead?”

“I did. Such a tragic accident.”

“Accident?”

“Yes, it was all over the papers at the time.”

Now I was confused. Why would she think Anton Michaels’ death was an accident? Unless—

“When exactly was this
accident
?”

“Not long after he’d bought the apartment, so two years ago I guess. Some kind of climbing accident—terrible thing.”

“Look, I’m sorry to press the point, but just so I’m clear: you’re saying the man who bought the apartment from you was killed in a climbing accident two years ago?”

“That’s right.”

I took out my smartphone, brought up the web browser and did a search. When I’d found the image I was looking for, I showed it to Sylvia.

“Was that the man who bought your apartment?”

“Yes, dear. That’s him.”

***

The lunchtime rush was over, so it was fairly quiet in Kaleidoscope.

“Table, madam?” The maître d’ greeted me at the door.

“Not today, thanks. Just a quick drink.”

He nodded me through, and I made my way to the bar. There was a different man working behind the bar today; this guy was all hair gel and aftershave. I ordered a soda—last of the big spenders, that’s me.

“I see you’ve had a revamp,” I said.

“Yeah. Made a good job of it, don’t you think?”

“Very nice. What’s the new owner like?”

He shrugged. “Never met him.”

“That’s unusual isn’t it? Do you know his name or where I can contact him?”

“No, sorry.”

He walked to the other end of the bar, and began to speak to a man in a black suit.

I cast the ‘listen’ spell, filtered out all other sounds, and homed in on their conversation.

“She’s asking about the owner,” the barman said.

“What about him?”

“Who he is and how to contact him.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Nothing. You said we should let you know if anyone asked questions.”

“Okay. You did good.”

The suit then came around the bar and made his way over to me.

“Afternoon.” His smile couldn’t have been any more false.

“Hi.”

“Quiet drink alone?”

“Yeah. I just needed to take the weight off for a while.”

“Busy day?”

“Very.”

“What is it you do?”

“I’m a secret agent.”

He looked nonplussed for a moment, and then laughed. “That must be exciting. What do you really do?”

“That’s a secret.”

“Well, enjoy your drink.”

“Before you go. I asked your barman who owns Kaleidoscope now. He didn’t seem to know.”

The man’s expression was one hundred per cent serious now. He said nothing.

“Do
you
know?” I pressed.

“What’s your interest?”

“If I told you that I’d be forced to kill you.” I smiled. “Secret agent stuff.”

“Sorry, I can’t help.”

With that, he walked away.

I cast the ‘listen’ spell again, and focussed on the man as he disappeared from sight. Moments later my hunch paid off as I heard him make a call.

“Some woman. I don’t know. No, of course I didn’t tell her. Okay. Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow at eleven.”

Bingo!

***

It was time to face the music. I didn’t think I’d be the twin’s favourite person after telling Aunt Lucy about their performance at The Perfect Couple competition. Looking back now, maybe I shouldn’t have done it. Who was I kidding? I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

“Look who it isn’t.” Pearl shot me a look.

“It’s the traitor, herself.” Amber joined her sister behind the counter.

“Look girls, I’m truly sorry.” I lied. “But you would have done the same to me.”

They looked at one another, and could no longer maintain their annoyed expressions.

“You’re right.” Amber giggled.

“Yeah—we’d have given you up in a flash.” Pearl smiled.

“So am I forgiven?”

“Yeah, we forgive you, but we haven’t forgiven those guys.”

By ‘those guys’ I assumed they meant Alan and William.

“Pearl and I spent ages analysing where we’d gone wrong,” Amber said.

“Yeah.” Pearl took over. “We realised we weren’t at fault. It was the guys who let us down.”

I nodded, but that wasn’t how I remembered it. I seemed to recall that none of them had known anything about one another.

“You’re totally right,” I said. What? Sometimes hypocrisy is the better part of valour.

“Anyway.” Pearl took a bite from the first half of her ‘reduced-calorie’ muffin. “We have other things on our minds right now.”

Make-up? Dresses? Jethro?

Amber stole a bite of Pearl’s muffin, much to her sister’s annoyance. “Have you heard about the new tea room that’s opening?”

News travelled fast. I hadn’t been sure whether to tell them about Grandma’s tea room or not.

“Grandma told you then?”

“Told us what?”

“About the tea room.”

“How would she know about it?”

Conversations with the twins could sometimes be a challenge. This was looking like one of those times.

“Now, I’m confused,” I confessed. “I thought you were annoyed because Grandma is opening a tea room.”

“She’s doing what?” Pearl practically spat out her muffin.

“Grandma?” Amber looked shell-shocked.

“Isn’t that what you were talking about?”

“No. We’re talking about the two ‘M’s.”

It took a few seconds for it to click, but then I realised they were referring to Miles Best and Mindy Lowe who ran Best Cakes. I glanced out the window, and saw that there were workmen in the building adjacent to the cake shop.

“When did you find out?” I asked.

“Miles had the barefaced cheek to come over here and announce it. He said he wanted us to hear it from him first. And that he knew we’d welcome the competition.”

“And what did you say?”

“It isn’t repeatable.”

Oh dear. It seemed the cake wars had escalated.

“What’s this about Grandma?” Pearl scooped up the last few crumbs of muffin.

“She’s taken the shop next to Ever A Wool Moment, and is going to turn it into a tea room for the yarnies. I have my suspicions that she used magic to drive the previous tenant out, but I can’t prove it.”

“Sounds like the type of thing she’d do,” Amber said.

“What does she know about running a tea room?” Pearl rolled her eyes.

“Not much probably,” I said. “But I wouldn’t bet against her making a success of it. If Ever A Wool Moment is anything to go by, we know she has the marketing nous.”

“Just as long as she doesn’t try to drag us into it.” Pearl stood up.

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Amber looked at her sister. “Do you think she’ll ask us for help?”

“She can ask all she wants.”

“Yeah. Let her ask. We’ll tell her we’re too busy.”

“Yeah.”

Brave words indeed.

Chapter 20

I was in the office snatching some computer time while Winky was having a nap.

Mrs V popped her head in the door and said, “That friend of yours is here, Jill.”

“Friend?” Like I had that many.

“The one from your school days. I mentioned she called the other day. Is it convenient?”

Madeline Lane, or Mad Lane as everyone used to know her, was the original wild child. It was strange that we’d been friends because I’d been a quiet, reserved child. No one could accuse Mad of that. And the clothes she wore: skirts barely longer than a belt, and tops that showed way too much cleavage. Mrs V was hiding it well, but would no doubt have something to say about her appearance after Mad left.

“Show her in.”

“Jill.” Mad’s voice was the same, but it was the only thing that was.

“Mad?”

“It’s Madeline now. I dropped the nickname.”

“Madeline. You—err—you look—”

“You look great, Jill. You’ve hardly changed at all.”

I couldn’t say the same for her. Gone were the racy, outrageous clothes. In their place was a woollen two piece. Her grey blouse was buttoned up to the neck; her skirt was several inches below the knee. And her wild hair was in a tight bun.

“Sit down.” I hoped I didn’t sound as stunned as I felt. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too.” She glanced around the room. “Is this your dad’s old place?”

“Yeah. I took over the family business after he died.”

“I was sorry to hear about your mum and dad. They were nice people.”

Mad—err—Madeline had spent many an hour at my house. Mum and Dad had always welcomed her, even if they hadn’t approved of the way she dressed. They probably figured I didn’t have many friends, so they daren’t risk chasing any of them away.

“When did you come back to Washbridge?”

“A couple of weeks ago. It hasn’t changed very much.”

“You have.”

“Yeah well. It was time I grew up and put all of the wildness behind me.”

“So are you back for good? Have you got a job? Where are you living?”

“Looks like I might be back to stay. I have a small flat over by Broom’s Park—as far away from my folks as I could get.”

She smiled, but I thought she probably meant it. She hadn’t had the best of relationships with her parents.

“I’ve got a job at the library.”

“A librarian?” That explained the outfit, but not the total transformation.

“Surprised?”

“A little. I have to be honest; I didn’t have you down as a librarian.”

“Neither did I. But here I am. Does Kathy still live around here?”

“Yeah. Her and Peter have two kids now.”

“What about you? Are you married?”

“Me? No. Still free and single. What about you?”

She hesitated. “I’m single now too.”

I thought she was going to say more, but she seemed to think better of it.

“We’ll have to go out some time,” I said.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

What a very nice young lady,” Mrs V said after Madeline had left.

“Yeah. She’s changed so much. I’m not sure I’d have recognised her if I’d met her in the street.”

Winky was still asleep—he hadn’t stirred even while Madeline was in the office—writing obviously took its toll. I thought back to how Madeline used to be, and how much she’d changed. As a kid, she’d been a bit weird—that’s probably why we hit it off. If I remembered correctly, she’d had imaginary friends she used to talk to. But then, everyone has their little eccentricities, I guess—except me, obviously.

***

The manager at Kaleidoscope left the restaurant on foot at a quarter to eleven. I’d been watching from the store across the road for the last thirty minutes. He looked to be wearing the same suit as he’d worn the last time I’d seen him. I crossed the road and tucked in about twenty metres behind him. He stopped at a small newsagent, picked up a bar of chocolate, and then carried on. Judging by the way the buttons on his jacket were straining, he could have done without the calories.

As he passed the launderette where Daze had once worked, he took a left. I held back to be sure he didn’t double back, and then I peeped around the corner of the building. I did so just in time to see him go through a door which appeared to be the entrance to the offices directly above the launderette. I hurried down the alley and tried the door. It was locked. There was no sign to indicate who the office belonged to, and no bell to ring. I hurried back up the alley, and into the launderette.

“Excuse me,” I said to the woman who was sitting on a stool in the corner, reading a book. “Do you know if there’s another way into the offices above your shop? I’ve managed to lock myself out.”

“There’s a fire escape around the other side of the building. I imagine that would get you up there.”

“Would you mind letting me go through to it?”

She gave me the once over, and must have decided I looked harmless enough. “Come with me.”

The steel fire escape had seen better days, and made one heck of a row with every step I took. I might have been better using the ‘levitation’ spell, but that would have taken some explaining to the woman who was still standing on the ground below me—watching my every step.

“I’m okay now,” I said, as loud as I dared.

“Okay dear.”

Once she’d disappeared back inside I made my way to first floor level. I didn’t bother trying the door—I was pretty sure it would be locked too. Instead, I edged along the platform, and leaned forward so I could see inside. Standing at the far side of the room with his back to me, was the man from Kaleidoscope. He was obviously talking to someone seated behind the desk, but my view of the other man was obscured.

Suddenly the voices inside became raised. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was obvious they were arguing. Just then the man behind the desk stood up, and banged his fist down. I could see him clearly now.

I pulled back from the window, and hurried back down the fire escape—I’d seen all I needed to see.

I spoke to Hilary at Love Spell, and arranged to meet with all of the girls at Cuppy C that evening.

***

My phone rang. It was Kathy.

“I’m going to strangle that woman,” she yelled.

“Who?”

“Your grandmother!”

Quelle surprise! I’d wondered how long the honeymoon would last. It sounded as though it was well and truly over now.

“What has she done?”

“She must think I’m some kind of super woman. Did you know she’s opening a tea room next door to Ever?”

“I had heard something about it.”

“Well guess who she expects to oversee the building work?”

It was a rhetorical question, I was sure.

“Muggins here—that’s who. And not just that. I’m also supposed to be overseeing the Everlasting Wool promotion, and handling the queries which come from the web site.”

“That does sound like a lot for one person.”

“You’re not kidding. How am I supposed to do all that? I’m going to ask her if she wants me to stick a broom up my—”

“I get the picture. I did warn you.”

“I know you did. I should have listened.”

“Hang on. Are you actually saying I was right?”

“Yes, you were right. Now what am I supposed to do? You seem to know how to handle her. What should I do?”

“Me? Don’t ask me. I have no idea.”

“Come on, Jill, please. You’re the only person she seems to take any notice of.”

“Threats are the only thing that work with Grandma.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it’s no good trying to be reasonable or conciliatory. She’ll walk right over you. You need to go to her, and tell her that unless she takes some of the work off you, you’ll resign.”

“But I need this job.”

“She won’t let you leave. You’re doing too good a job.”

“Why thank you, sis.”

“Tell her straight. She’ll probably huff and puff, and might even threaten to let you go, but if you stand your ground, she’ll make some compromises.”

“Okay. I’ll give it a try. Thanks.”

What had I done? What if I’d got it wrong and Grandma did fire Kathy? My life wouldn’t be worth living. Even worse, what if she turned her into a cockroach, or a slug?

***

I arrived at Cuppy C before the girls from Love Spell. The twins were taking down the ‘cupcake guarantee’ sign.

“What’s going on?” I said, as I eyed the blueberry muffins.

“We’ve had to abandon this idea.” Pearl unhooked her side of the banner.

“Really? I thought it was one of your better initiatives.”

“We didn’t take into account those three.” Pearl gestured to the corner table. I hadn’t noticed Grandma who was sitting there with two of her cronies. Talk about the three ugly sisters.

“What’s she done now?”

“They’ve been here for almost three hours. They bought one cupcake each when they came in. Since then they keep coming back to the counter, and saying the cupcake hasn’t made them happy. Then they demand another one.”

I glanced across at the motley crew. “Nothing could make those three happy.”

“I know.” Amber began to roll up the banner. “Grandma knows very well that’s not what the guarantee means, but she insists that until she’s happy, she’s entitled to free cupcakes.”

“You’ll be waiting a long time until
she’s
happy.”

“Well the sign’s gone now, so the next time they come to the counter, they can just whistle,” Pearl said in a whisper.

As if on cue, Grandma and the other two ugly sisters stood up, and made their way to the exit. Grandma seemed to remember something, and headed back to the counter.

“The sign is down,” Amber managed meekly. “You can’t have any more cupcakes.”

Pearl and I both stared at her—she’d obviously lost her mind.

“That’s okay, dear,” Grandma said. “We’ve had our fill. I just came over to give you and your sister some good news.”

The twins looked terrified, and understandably so.

“I’ve decided to allow you to train my staff when my tea room opens.”

“
Allow
us to?” Pearl said.

“No need to thank me,” Grandma said. “I’ll let you know when I need you.”

Neither of the twins spoke until they were absolutely sure Grandma had gone.

“Train her staff? I don’t think so,” Pearl said.

“No way are we training her staff.” Amber huffed.

“Jill.” Pearl turned to me. “You have to tell her we’re not going to do it.”

“Me? Don’t drag me into it.”

“But she likes you.”

“Oh, yeah. She’s crazy about me.”

“Please, Jill.”

“Please!”

“Okay. Let me think about it.” I took a moment. “I’ve thought about it, and the answer is no.”

The twins were still muttering under their breath when the girls from Love Spell arrived.

“What’s wrong with the twins?” Lily asked as she brought the tray of drinks and muffins—blueberry yay!—over to the table.

“Grandma is causing them grief as usual.”

“I always thought your grandmother was kind of sweet,” Tilly said.

Sweet? This woman was obviously in need of urgent psychiatric help.

“Okay. I think I may know what caused the recent downturn in successful matches,” I said.

The girls were all ears.

“I spent a lot of time going through your records, and ran numerous different analyses over the figures. One thing in particular stood out for me. The percentage of overall successful matches is actually as high now as it has ever been, but only at two out of three restaurants which you use for the initial date. Almost all of the unsuccessful dates had their first date at Kaleidoscope. I became suspicious after my date there. Now, my love life may be a train wreck, but I know the date with Ryan went fine. When I left him that night he was keen that we should meet up again. And yet, his report back to you said quite the opposite. That’s why I asked for the second date. I needed to date someone who I knew was a complete mismatch to check that I could still recognise what a ‘bad’ date felt like. My date with Fred proved to me that I hadn’t been delusional—the first date had been a resounding success. There was no reason why Ryan should have said otherwise.

It’s my belief that something is happening at Kaleidoscope. I think that magic is being used to affect the perception of the men. It’s probably something in their food or their drink. I’m not sure.”