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  Witch Is How

  The Biscuits Disappeared

  Published by Implode Publishing Ltd

  © Implode Publishing Ltd 2019

  The right of Adele Abbott to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved, worldwide. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, dead or alive, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 1

  “You can’t leave him there like that, Jill.” Jack grabbed my arm.

  “Like what?”

  “You know what. You have to turn him back into a man.”

  “He shouldn’t have nicked my parking spot.”

  “We managed to get another one.”

  “That’s not the point. It’s the principle that counts. Only a rat would have done something like that.”

  “So you thought you’d turn him into one?”

  “It seemed only fair. Come on or we’ll miss the start of the movie.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until you’ve turned him back into a man. I’m surprised you’d do something like this. It’s the kind of thing I’d expect your grandmother to do.”

  “That’s a bit below the belt.”

  “It’s true, though. We’re supposed to have a no-magic pact.”

  “Okay, okay. Where is he?”

  “Just there, under his car.”

  I glanced around to make sure there was no one else around, and then reversed the spell. Then I quickly cast the ‘forget’ spell.

  The man scrambled out from under his car, a little dusty, but otherwise none the worse for his ordeal. He did, though, look very confused.

  Until this year, the best Washbridge could do for cinema lovers (yes, Mr Ivers, I am looking at you) was the dilapidated Washbridge Astoria. That fleapit had started to crumble when I was a kid, and it had only got worse since then. The nearest modern cinema had been in West Chipping.

  But no longer.

  Two weeks ago, Washbridge Screens, a ten-screen multiplex cinema, had opened in the city centre. Ever since then, Jack had been bugging me that we should pay it a visit. And so it was that we were queuing for tickets to see Red Storm.

  “I told you we should have booked the tickets online.” I sighed.

  “We’ve got plenty of time before it starts. And besides, you said you wanted popcorn, didn’t you?”

  “What if the movie is sold out before we get served?”

  “That’s hardly likely. It’s showing in three different screens. What size popcorn do you want?”

  “The giant one will suffice.”

  “This is a lot better than the Astoria.” Jack led the way down a long corridor. On either side, were doors to the screens, numbered one to ten.

  “Which screen are we in?”

  “Nine.”

  Once we got inside, I could barely see what I was doing because the lights were already down, and the trailers were showing.

  “Jack, where are you?”

  “Shush!” someone hissed.

  “Sorry.”

  “Here.” Jack took my hand and led the way up the stairs to row ‘E’. “We’re in the end seats.”

  Five minutes later, the main feature began. I’d been looking forward to this particular movie for months. An action thriller with a kickass hero, it was never going to pick up an Oscar, but it was massively entertaining.

  Fifty minutes in, and I was beginning to regret having popped into the coffee shop on our way to the cinema.

  “I need the loo,” I whispered.

  “I told you not to get that large coffee.”

  “I’ll only be a minute.”

  When I came out of the cloakroom, I looked up and down the corridor. Which screen were we in? Jack had the tickets, so I couldn’t check those. It was—err—number five. No, it was six. Definitely screen six.

  I crept back in, and much to my relief it was showing Red Storm. I’d been a little worried I might have misremembered the number. Now all I had to do was feel my way up the stairs to row E.

  A, B, C, D, E.

  I took my seat, and whispered, “Have I missed anything, Jack?”

  “Who’s Jack?” It was a woman’s voice. “Why are you sitting there? My husband has just gone to buy ice cream.”

  “Oh? Sorry.” I jumped out of the seat, hurried back down the stairs, and out into the corridor.

  Which screen had we been in? Think, Jill! Nine! It was definitely screen nine.

  Fingers crossed.

  I made my way into screen nine, and up the stairs to row E.

  “Jack?” I whispered.

  “I thought you’d got lost.”

  “There was a queue.”

  ***

  On the way back home, Jack drove.

  “You were right about the movie,” he said. “It was great. It’s just a pity you missed the best fight scene while you were at the loo.”

  “I think I preferred the Astoria.”

  “You said it was a fleapit.”

  “Yes, but it had character. These new multiplexes all look the same. They have no—err—”

  “Fleas?”

  “I was going to say soul.”

  Our next-door neighbours, Tony and Clare, were standing on our driveway; they’d obviously just been to our door.

  “I wonder what they want,” Jack said.

  “I don’t think they’ve spotted us yet. Drive around the block until they’ve gone.”

  “I’m not doing that. It could be important. It might be about TenPinCon.”

  “Aren’t those two things mutually exclusive?”

  “Hey, Jack,” Tony was practically bubbling over with excitement. “Did you see the local evening news?”

  “No, we’ve been to the cinema.”

  “They ran an article on TenPinCon. How did you manage to swing that?”

  “Yeah, Jack,” I said. “How did you manage that?”

  “It was nothing. I have a few connections.”

  “I can’t believe there’s only a week to go.” Clare was every bit as excited as her husband.

  Tragic really.

  “We have a surprise for you two,” Tony announced.

  I didn’t like the sound of that. Not one tiny bit.

  “Yes,” Clare said. “It’s a thank you for all the work you’ve put into the marketing campaign. Go and get them, Tony.”

  Them? The alarm bells started to ring.

  Tony disappeared into their house and re-emerged moments later, carrying—err—I wasn’t sure what.

  “Look!” He held up whatever it/they were.

  Jack looked every bit as puzzled as I was. “Err, thanks. They’re—err—”

>   Clare jumped in. “Tenpin costumes for you and Jill to wear on the big day.”

  “Wow! Thanks guys.” Jack’s face lit up. “You shouldn’t have.” He’d got that much right. “Aren’t they fantastic, Jill?”

  “Fantastic.”

  “Do you want to try them on now?” Tony said.

  Before Jack could say something I’d regret, I grabbed his arm. “We’d love to, but we both have an early start in the morning, don’t we, Jack?”

  “I—err—”

  “Not to worry.” Tony handed them to Jack. “Try them on tomorrow and let us know what you think.”

  “Will do.” I started for the door. “Goodnight, you two.”

  “That was kind of them, wasn’t it?” Jack said, once we were in the house.

  “I’m not parading around Washbridge Arena wearing that thing.”

  “It’ll be fun.”

  “Not. Happening.” I started upstairs. “I’m going to get a shower, and then I’m off to bed. I’m bushed.”

  I was still annoyed at myself for missing the best action sequence in the movie. I’d just have to watch the part I’d missed when the movie became available for streaming later in the year.

  Wrapped in a towel, I stepped into the bedroom, only to be confronted by a giant tenpin with legs and arms.

  “You just couldn’t resist it, could you?”

  “It fits great.” Jack’s muffled voice came from inside the costume.

  “You look really sexy.”

  “Yeah?”

  “No, of course not. You look ridiculous.”

  “You should put yours on. We could mess around for a while before we turn in for the night.”

  “If you think I’m getting kinky with a giant rubber skittle, you’ve got another think coming.”

  ***

  When I woke the next morning, the bedroom was freezing.

  I went in search of Jack, who I found in the kitchen, wearing his coat.

  “Why is it so cold in here?” I shivered.

  “The boiler has packed up.”

  “Can’t you mend it?”

  “I’ve tried switching it off and on again, but that didn’t do anything.”

  “Some handyman you are. I’m frozen.”

  “You could always put your tenpin costume on. They’re really warm.”

  “Not a chance. We’d better call the boiler man.”

  “I’ve already done it. He’s coming between ten and eleven this morning. Can you stay in for him? I can’t do it because I have a meeting I can’t get out of.”

  “It doesn’t sound like I have much choice. How much is this going to cost us?”

  “Nothing. We have a maintenance contract, remember?”

  “Oh yeah. I knew that contract was a good idea.”

  “You said it was a complete waste of money.”

  Not long after Jack had left for work, Daze phoned.

  “Hey, Jill. Could I pop over to see you?”

  “Sure, but you’ll need to come to the house. I have to stay in because I’m waiting for the boiler man.”

  “No problem. Is it okay if I bring the surveillance imps over with me?”

  “I guess so.”

  “We’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

  Daze had asked the surveillance imps to keep an eye on the three CASS school governors. Hopefully, they would have something to report.

  My phone rang again, and I assumed Daze had forgotten to tell me something, but it was Kathy.

  “Morning, Sis!” She sounded obscenely pleased with life. “How are you?”

  “Cold. The boiler gave up overnight.”

  “Bummer. What are you going to do about it?”

  “Fortunately, I had the foresight to take out a maintenance contract. The guy is coming later this morning.”

  “I just wanted to let you know that Pete has set on that friend of yours.”

  “Reggie?”

  “Yeah. Pete reckons he’s a giant of a guy. He didn’t have any references, but Pete said if you vouched for him, that was good enough.”

  “I’m sure he’ll do a great job.”

  “Aren’t you going to ask me how the new shop’s doing?”

  “I don’t need to. I can tell from your voice.”

  “We had a blockbuster weekend.”

  “I’m really pleased for you. How is Pippa doing?”

  “She’s absolutely brilliant. Where did you find her?”

  “Just a friend of a friend.”

  “She’s doing so well that I don’t feel the need to call in there today. I’m happy to let her run the show.”

  “That’s great. How’s Lizzie, by the way?”

  “So much brighter since she started dreaming again. The only problem now is that she insists on telling me all about her dreams every morning.”

  “Jack does the same, and they’re always so boring—usually bowling related.”

  “Anyway, how was your weekend?”

  “Quiet. We went to the new multiplex last night.”

  “What did you go to see?”

  “Red Storm.”

  “Really? Pete and I went to see that last week. That fight sequence in the middle was amazing wasn’t it?”

  “Amazing.” Or so I heard, anyway.

  “I’d better get going. I just wanted to tell you about Reggie. I hope you get your boiler sorted out.”

  “Thanks.”

  Ten minutes later, Daze appeared, accompanied by the three surveillance imps. Although Daze had vouched for her companions, I still had my doubts about them. They had untrustworthy faces.

  Daze made the introductions. “Jill, this is Ray, this is May, and this is Jay.”

  “I’m very pleased to meet you all. Shall we go through to the kitchen? It’s a little warmer in there because I have the small fan heater on.”

  “Why don’t you just use magic to heat the place?” Ray asked.

  “I try not to use magic in the human world unless it’s absolutely necessary. Would you all like a drink? Tea? Coffee? Juice?”

  “I’d love a cup of tea,” Daze said.

  The three imps said they’d have the same.

  As I was feeling generous, and because I still had a cupboard full of custard creams due to the shopping app mishap, I put a few onto a plate for my guests.

  “What are those?” May pointed to the biscuits.

  “Custard creams.”

  “I’ve never seen those before,” Jay said. “Are they nice?”

  “Nice? They’re much more than nice. They’re the king of biscuits.”

  I thought the custard creams might be a little on the large side for the imps, but I needn’t have worried.

  “Hmm! These are delicious.” Ray munched.

  May clearly agreed with him because she was already on her second.

  Five minutes later, the plate was empty, and yet Daze and I had only managed to eat one each. Jay glanced at the empty plate, and then at me, but I ignored him. If he thought he was getting any more, he was sadly mistaken.

  “Okay, you three,” Daze said. “Why don’t you tell Jill what you’ve seen so far?”

  “I’ve been following Randolph Straightstaff,” May said.

  Ray confirmed he’d been assigned to Francesca Greylock.

  “And I’ve been watching Adrian Bowler,” Jay said. “It was the same story for all of us—there’s been very little to report. Until yesterday, that is.”

  “What happened yesterday?”

  “All three of them went to the same public house.”

  “In Candlefield?”

  “Yes. It’s called the Whisperer’s Horse.”

  “I can’t say I’ve ever heard of it.”

  “Do you know Bryan’s Irons?” Jay asked.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “What about Bart’s Tarts?” May said.

  “No.”

  “You must know June’s Spoons,” Ray said.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t.” r />
  “The Whisperer’s Horse is between Bryan’s Irons and Bart’s Tarts, and across the road from June’s Spoons.”

  “One of you should sketch a map to show Jill where it is.” Daze suggested.

  “Good idea.” May took out a small notebook. “I’ll do it.”

  “What happened in the pub?” I was doing my best not to let my impatience show.

  “That’s just it.” Jay shrugged. “We don’t know. All three of them arrived at the same time and went through to a private room at the back. There were a couple of huge werewolves on the door. They wouldn’t let us in, so we staked out the two exits and waited for them to come out.”

  “And? What happened?”

  “Nothing. We waited there for hours but there was no sign of them. None of them left the building. By midnight, we knew something was wrong, so May volunteered to go back to Randolph Straightstaff’s house.”

  “He was there,” May said. “Back in his own bed. So I checked on the other two. They were back home too.”

  “You must have missed them coming out of the pub.”

  “We couldn’t have. We never took our eyes off the exits all the time we were there.”

  “So how did they get out? And what were they doing in there in the first place?”

  “Your guess is as good as ours,” Ray said.

  “Can you continue to keep tabs on them? If they return to the Whisperer’s Horse, let me know straight away. I want to see what goes on inside that private room.”

  “Will do.”

  Just then, there was a knock at the door. I checked the window to find the boiler man’s van parked on the road outside.

  “Sorry guys, the man is here to fix the boiler. You’ll have to make yourselves scarce.”

  “Hi, lady. I’m here about the boiler.” He flashed his ID. “The name’s Doyle.”

  “Come in.” I took him upstairs to the cupboard where the boiler was located.

  Five minutes later, he came back downstairs. “It’s going to be a costly job, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s okay. We’ve got a maintenance contract.”

  “Oh?” He tapped away on his laptop. “It doesn’t appear so. You didn’t renew it when it expired last month.”

  That’s when I remembered seeing the renewal notice, and thinking that it was a total waste of money. And then, I remembered throwing it in the bin.