WPI31 - Witch Is How The Biscuits Disappeared Read online

  Oh bum! Jack was going to kill me.

  Chapter 2

  I was just about to get into the car when I spotted something on our front lawn: A small, smelly, unwanted gift from one of the neighbourhood felines. Could Lovely have done it? She surely wouldn’t have repaid my recent act of kindness in that way. Not after I’d persuaded the Livelys to revert back to her favourite food.

  And then I spotted him. Sitting in Jimmy and Kimmy’s driveway was my nemesis, Bruiser, and he was grinning from ear to ear.

  “If I get my hands on you, I’ll—”

  “Jill?” Kimmy appeared in her front doorway. “Why are you threatening my little fluffykins?”

  Fluffykins? Who was she kidding? “I—err, no I wasn’t shouting at your cat. It was the other one.”

  “Oh?” She looked up and down the street. “Which other one?”

  “It was a horrible thing. A big tabby. I thought it was going to attack Bruiser, so I shooed it off.”

  Unseen by Kimmy, Bruiser was smirking at me—he was no doubt thoroughly enjoying my discomfort.

  Kimmy took another look up and down the street. “Thank you, Jill. It looks like it’s gone now.”

  “I hope so. I wouldn’t want to see any harm come to your little fluffykins.”

  The vegetable du jour was a leek. It seemed that Mr Ivers had a never-ending supply of those stupid hand puppets. After the leek had collected my cash, the puppet master himself stuck his head above the counter.

  “Morning, Jill.”

  “Morning. You must have nearly worked your way through all the vegetable hand puppets by now.”

  “Not even close. I’ve got at least another ten up my sleeve.” He chuckled. “Or should I say, on my sleeve.”

  “Right, well I should get a move on. Time and tide, and all that.”

  “Have you been to the new multiplex yet, Jill?”

  “Jack and I went there yesterday to see Red Storm.”

  “An excellent movie. And that fight sequence, I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

  “It was really something, wasn’t it?”

  “The new cinema is so much more convenient for me. I used to have to travel to West Chipping. I’ve signed up for their All-Inclusive Pass. I can go as often as I like for one monthly fee.”

  “I imagine you’ll get your money’s worth out of that.”

  “You’re not wrong. I’ll be practically living there.”

  ***

  Mrs V was sniffing her wrists.

  “Are you alright, Mrs V?”

  “Morning, Jill.” She held out her hands. “Which do you prefer?”

  “Your hands both look the same to me.”

  “I meant the perfumes, silly. There was a closing down sale at Vera’s Perfume Counter, so I grabbed half a dozen. The prices were so good, I couldn’t resist. Armi prefers Love Halo, but I think Blue Indigo is nicer.”

  I sniffed her wrists. They both smelled exactly the same to me.

  “I—err—I actually have a bit of a cold, so my sense of smell isn’t great right now.”

  “But which one do you like best?”

  “Err, the left one, I think.”

  “Blue Indigo. Me too. Thanks, Jill. That’s the one I’ll wear on Saturday night.”

  “Do you and Armi have something special planned?”

  “Just me, actually. It’s my school reunion. It’s the first one they’ve held for over ten years.”

  “Right. Where’s it being held?”

  I assumed it must be somewhere very small. Maybe a telephone kiosk? After all, how many of her classmates would still even be alive?

  What? Sheesh, I was only joking.

  “At our old school of course. It’ll be lovely to see all the old faces.”

  There would be plenty of those. “Aren’t partners invited?”

  “Yes, but—err—Armi doesn’t want to go. It isn’t really his type of thing.” Mrs V was possibly the world’s worst liar, but before I could press her further, she changed the subject. “It’s such a pity about Alistair. Both of him.”

  “It’s probably for the best. I’ve always worked better alone.”

  “You’re like the Lone Ranger.”

  “Precisely.”

  “I see you managed to get rid of that awful desk of his over the weekend.”

  “Err, yeah. Fifty quid.”

  “You did well to get anything for that monstrosity. Oh, and while I remember, you asked me to remind you about your dental appointment this afternoon.”

  Oh bum, I’d forgotten about that. “I don’t think I’m going to bother.”

  “But last week you said you’d felt a few twinges of toothache.”

  “It seems to have cleared up over the weekend.”

  “You should go and get it looked at or it may come back, and it could be worse next time.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  Winky was sitting on my desk. As soon as I walked in the door, he held out a paw.

  “What?” I pretended to have no idea what he wanted.

  “You know what. It’s time to pay your debts.”

  “Okay, okay.” I took out my purse and handed him one-hundred and fifty pounds. “Satisfied?”

  “You’re short.”

  “That was the wager we agreed for the hula hoop challenge.”

  “True, but you’re forgetting the fifty pounds for disposing of doliphant boy’s desk.”

  “Won’t you take pity on me? I’ve just had to fork out to get the boiler repaired.”

  “Not my problem. You should have taken out a maintenance contract.”

  “I’ll be broke if I give you another fifty pounds. Just think of all the things I’ve done for you over the years.”

  “Hmm?” He thought for all of thirty seconds, and then said, “Nah, I can’t think of anything. Hand over the cash.”

  “Here!” I threw my last five ten-pound notes at him. “I hope you can live with yourself.”

  “There’s no need to get ratty with me, just because you’re scared to go to the dentist.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not scared of the dentist. And besides, it was only a slight twinge. There’s probably nothing wrong.”

  “Hmm?”

  “What does that mean?”

  “One of those molars doesn’t look too clever.”

  “What are you talking about?” I ran my finger over my teeth. “They’re all in perfect condition.”

  “We’ll see.”

  And now, to spend even more money that I didn’t have.

  “Mr Song?”

  “Sid Song speaking.”

  “It’s Jill Maxwell.”

  “Oh.” I could almost hear his heart sinking. “What’s wrong now?”

  “I need another sign.”

  “Another one?” he warbled. “I thought you were only allowed to display the one.”

  “I am. I need a sign exactly the same as the last one you provided, but this one needs to be at least two centimetres narrower. It seems the last one was wider than is allowed under the terms of my lease.”

  “Wouldn’t it have been a good idea for you to check that before you placed your order?”

  “I realise that now. Can you make me another sign or not?”

  “Of course. It will be the same price as the last one.”

  “But it’s two centimetres smaller?”

  “That won’t affect the price, I’m afraid.”

  “Okay. Get on with it.”

  “I assume you’ll need us to remove the old sign?”

  “Actually, no. I’ve already taken care of that. How long will the new sign take you?”

  “I should be able to do it within two or three weeks.”

  “No quicker than that?”

  “I’m afraid not. We’re snowed under right now.”

  “Fine. Just do it as quickly as you can, please.”

  My ten o’clock appointment arrived bang on time.

  “Do have a se
at, Mr Claymore.”

  “Thank you, but I’d prefer to stand if it’s all the same to you.”

  “Err, sure.”

  “It’s just that I had a boil lanced on Friday, and it’s still—”

  “O—kay. So how can I help, exactly?”

  “I own the large car lot on the road to Smallwash. You’ve probably seen it.”

  “Do you mean Bestest Motors?”

  “That’s the one. Maybe I’ve sold you a car?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” I refused to do business with someone with such a weak grip on the English language.

  What? Yes, I’m well aware that I have also been known to say ‘bestest’, but when I’ve used it, it’s always been in an ironical way. Obviously.

  “Someone has been stealing my cars.”

  “I see.”

  “And then bringing them back.”

  “Oh?”

  “Sprayed green.”

  “Let me make sure I understand this correctly. Are you saying that cars are being stolen from your car lot, and then being returned after they’ve been sprayed green?”

  “Yes, well it’s a sort of greeny blue, actually. The wife insists it’s turquoise.”

  “Okay. I don’t think the colour materially affects the main facts. Do you have CCTV installed?”

  “No. I never got around to it.”

  “How long are the cars gone for typically?”

  “Usually no more than three or four days.”

  “And only one at a time?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Does whoever is taking them favour any particular model of car?”

  “No. They’ve taken all sorts. It’s getting beyond a joke.”

  “That’s all very strange. When you say the cars have been resprayed, what are we talking about exactly? Is it a professional job or just a quick once over with a spray can?”

  “It’s definitely a professional job. Really good quality, actually. It wouldn’t be so bad if they’d chosen a more popular colour, but there’s a limit to how many green cars I can shift.”

  “Do you have any disgruntled employees, or competitors who you think might do something like this?”

  “Both, actually. There’s Sandy Gascoigne. He used to be my top salesman, but he got too big for his boots. He was always trying to tell me how I should run my business, so I sacked him.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “About six months.”

  “Do you know what he’s doing now?”

  “No idea. Don’t much care.”

  “And you mentioned a competitor?”

  “Yes. Harry Wilde at Wilde Cars. He’s always been jealous of the number of cars I shift.”

  “Do you think he’s capable of something like this?”

  “He’s a pain in the backside, but I wouldn’t have thought so. But who knows?”

  “When did this business with the green cars start?”

  “About a month ago.”

  “Anyone else you think I should take a look at?”

  “Not that I can think of.”

  “Okay. I think I have everything I need for now.”

  “I hope you can get to the bottom of this soon. If you don’t, I might have to rename the business Green Cars.”

  ***

  Winky had cleaned me out of cash, so until I could get to the ATM, I only had a little loose change—and I was starving. Where was I supposed to get something to eat and drink without any money?

  “Morning, Mindy.”

  “Hi, Jill.”

  “Look, this is a bit embarrassing, but I’ve come out without my purse. Do you think you could let me have a coffee and a muffin, and put it on my tab, please?”

  “I didn’t know you had a tab.”

  “Oh yeah, the twins—”

  “She doesn’t have one.” Amber appeared from the back room. “She’s trying it on.”

  “Hi, Amber, I thought it was your day off today.”

  “It should be, but Belladonna rang in sick, so Pearl and I are taking it in turns to cover the creche. She’s up there now.”

  “Where are Lil and Lily?”

  “Mum’s got them.”

  “About the whole tab thing. You realise that I was only joking, right?”

  “Hmm.”

  “Look, I’ll come clean. I don’t have any cash until I can get to the ATM. The cat cleared me out this morning.”

  “Did you just say your cat?” Mindy obviously thought she’d misheard.

  “Yes, it’s a long, complicated story that involves hula hoops and an orange desk.”

  “Who would buy an orange desk?” Amber raised her eyebrows.

  “Please, Amber. I’m starving. I promise I’ll pay the next time I come in.”

  “Okay, but just this once. And only the one muffin.”

  “Thanks, you’re a star. What’s wrong with Belladonna?”

  “Food poisoning, she said.”

  “While she’s not here, there’s something you should know about her.”

  “Don’t start with that again, Jill. I don’t understand why you have it in for that girl.”

  “Honestly, you need to hear this.”

  “No, we don’t. We know all we need to know about her. She’s brilliant at her job, and the kids and parents all love her. I don’t want to hear another word about her.”

  “But, I—”

  “Not another word.”

  There was no helping some people.

  ***

  When I got back to the office, there was a chill in the air, and Winky was under the sofa. My mother’s ghost had made herself comfortable at my desk.

  “Morning, Mum.”

  “Morning. Don’t you think it’s time you spruced this place up a bit? Or moved to somewhere more modern?”

  “I like it here, and I like it just the way it is.”

  “I can’t imagine what your clients must think of it.”

  “Did you come over just to criticise my office or was there something else you wanted?”

  “I’m here to invite you to the grand opening of Cakey C.”

  “You’re still going with that name, then?”

  “Why wouldn’t we?”

  “Well, let me see. Maybe because you blatantly ripped it off from Cuppy C.”

  “You fuss too much. So, will you come?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “No, not really. It’s this Thursday, and every ghost who is anyone is going to be there. Harry and Larry are coming, and the colonel and Priscilla, of course.”

  “I trust there’ll be plenty of free cake.”

  “Absolutely. We aim to make a big splash.”

  “Okay. Count me in.”

  “Someone else you know will be there too.”

  “Oh? Who’s that?”

  “She came to see me the other day, completely out of the blue. I wasn’t sure if I should mention it or not.”

  “Who did?”

  “Jack’s mother.”

  “Yvonne? Are you sure it was her?”

  “Of course I’m sure. She came to see me at the shop while we were still doing it up.”

  “I didn’t even realise she was in GT.”

  “I don’t think she wanted you to know. Not until she was ready.”

  “What did she have to say?”

  “She wanted my advice on the best way for her to make contact.”

  “With Jack?”

  “Eventually, yeah.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I said she should discuss it with you first. That you’d know if it was a good idea, and whether Jack could handle it.”

  “I’m not sure how he’ll react. How did she seem?”

  “Fine, but she was obviously nervous about contacting you or Jack. I think you should speak to Yvonne before you say anything to him. She’ll be at the launch party on Thursday. You can always nip through to the back to have a quiet word with her.”

  “That wou
ld probably be best.”

  I was stunned. For some reason, it had simply never occurred to me that I’d ever see Yvonne again. I owed that woman my life; she’d sacrificed herself to save me. I wanted to call Jack and tell him, but I knew I had to wait until I’d had the chance to speak to Yvonne myself first. I wouldn’t want to raise his hopes until I was sure this was really going to happen.

  Chapter 3

  No sooner had my mother disappeared than Winky started making a ridiculous grinding sound.

  “Why are you making that stupid noise?”

  “That’s my impression of a dentist’s drill.”

  Oh bum! Was it that time already?

  Mrs V popped her head around the door. “You haven’t forgotten your dental appointment, have you?”

  “Of course I haven’t!” I snapped.

  “Sorry.”

  “No, it’s me who should be sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. The cat has been winding me up.”

  “The cat?”

  “You know how he can be when he wants feeding. Could you put some food out for him, please? I’d better be making tracks.”

  “Alright, dear. Good luck.”

  Luck? What did she mean by that? Had she spotted a cavity too?

  ***

  My regular dentist had retired a few months ago, and I hadn’t yet been seen by his replacement, a Mr Payne.

  “Good morning, madam.” Needless to say, the young woman on reception had perfect teeth.

  “Morning. I’m Jill Maxwell. I have a check-up at one o’clock.”

  She checked her computer. “I don’t seem to have you listed for today.”

  “You probably still have me under my maiden name: Jill Gooder. I don’t think I got around to updating it.”

  “Oh yes, here you are. Take a seat, please.”

  While I waited to be called, I pondered an age-old question: Why was it that the only place you ever found light aircraft magazines was in a dentist’s waiting room?

  “Mrs Maxwell!” The dental nurse, who also had perfect teeth, showed me through to the surgery.

  The dentist was young. Much too young if you asked me. He couldn’t possibly have finished dental school.

  “I’m Mr Payne, but please call me Max.”