Witch is How Life Changed Forever Read online

  Witch Is How

  Life Changed Forever

  Published by Implode Publishing Ltd

  © Implode Publishing Ltd 2020

  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

  Sometimes, being a witch was brilliant.

  I’d just arrived in Washbridge when the heavens decided to open, and it began to pour with rain. When I checked my bag, there was no sign of my umbrella. What an idiot I was; I must have left it on the hallstand.

  I took a quick look around, to make sure no one was watching and then magicked myself to the office building. Yes, I know I’m not supposed to use magic in the human world for selfish reasons, but come on, it was raining cats and dogs. You didn’t really expect me to get soaked to the skin, did you?

  In the outer office, Mrs V was standing next to the linen basket in which she stored her yarn. Grumbling away to herself, she had her back to the door, and hadn’t even noticed I was there.

  “Good morning, Mrs V.”

  “Oh, good morning, Jill. I didn’t see you come in.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Yes, I’d say so. Most of my yarn is ruined. Absolutely ruined.”

  “Don’t tell me that Winky got in there again.”

  “No, I can’t blame the cat this time. The basket appears to have been infested with something.”

  “Infested?” I shuddered. “With what?” I walked over so I could take a closer look.

  “At least half of it is unusable,” she said. “Look, when you pick the balls up, they fall apart in your hands.”

  “What could have caused that?”

  “I have no idea. I expected to find some kind of creepy-crawly, but there’s no sign of any. This is a complete disaster. I’ve promised to knit something for a number of people, and I don’t know how I’m going to manage now.”

  “Couldn’t you just order some more?”

  “I can try, but some of the colours are quite rare. And then there’s the question of whether it’s still safe to keep yarn in the basket. For all I know, whatever did this might still be around somewhere.”

  There wasn’t anything I could do or say to help, so I left Mrs V to it, and went through to my office where I found Winky, dressed to the nines.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Nowhere.”

  “So why are you dressed up like a dog’s dinner, then?”

  “Dog’s? Do you mind?”

  “You know what I mean. What’s with the whistle and flute?”

  “Hark at you with your cockney rhyming slang. I never would have Adam and Eve’d it.”

  “Are we really doing this?”

  “You bet. Just take a butcher’s at my ones and twos.”

  “Enough already. Are you going to tell me why you’re all dressed up or not?”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten? It’s the national finals of the best dressed cat competition a week on Wednesday. I’m trying on a few new outfits for size.”

  “You’re not seriously going through with that, are you?”

  “Of course I am. There’s five thousand pounds at stake. I am, without a shadow of a doubt, the best dressed cat in the country, so why wouldn’t I?”

  “Is the competition open to male and female cats?”

  “Of course, but they’re run on separate nights.”

  “Where’s it going to be held?”

  “In London, of course.”

  “And how are you getting down there?”

  “Funny you should ask.”

  “Forget it. I’m not driving you all the way to London.”

  “Come on, Jill. You wouldn’t want me to miss out on such a prestigious event, would you?”

  “What’s in it for me?”

  He thought about it for a moment. “I’ll give you twenty percent of my prize money.”

  “What if you don’t win anything?”

  “Of course I’ll win. It’s a foregone conclusion. Come on. Twenty percent is one thousand pounds.”

  “And all I have to do is drive you down there, wait until it’s over, and then bring you back home again?”

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  “I don’t have to come into the competition with you?”

  “Not if you don’t want to.”

  “I don’t.”

  “What do you say, then? It’s easy money.”

  Jack and I were low on funds, so the thousand pounds would definitely come in handy. I could drop Winky off at the competition, have a little walk around London, pick up something to eat, and then take him home again.

  “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  “Thanks, Jill. You won’t regret it.”

  ***

  My first appointment of the week was with a Mr and Mrs Kramer. He had what you might call a lived-in face. His wife looked at least ten years younger than him.

  I knew from the brief telephone conversation I’d had with Mrs Kramer that their son, Arnold, was in prison after being convicted of murder.

  “Thank you for seeing us, Mrs Maxwell,” Mrs Kramer said.

  “Please call me Jill. You mentioned on the phone that your son was in prison.”

  “That’s right. He’s been there for almost five years now, and we’re becoming more and more concerned about his health, aren’t we, Randolph?”

  “Indeed.” Mr Kramer nodded. “He really doesn’t look well at all.”

  “When was the last time you saw him?”

  “Monday of last week. He barely spoke to us all the time we were with him. He’s become a shadow of his former self, and we’re worried that he might do something silly.”

  “Have you mentioned this to the authorities at the prison?”

  “Yes, and they’ve promised to keep an eye on him, but the only thing that’s really going to help is to get him out of there. That’s why we’re here today.”

  “Why don’t you start by telling me about the murder that your son was convicted of.”

  The two of them looked at one another, as though they were trying to decide who should tell the story. Eventually, it was Mrs Kramer who did so. “Arnold was working in a fast food restaurant. It’s the one out of town on Washbridge Westway, near to the roundabout.”

  “I think I know the one you mean.”

  “It’s actually changed hands since he worked there, and is now called Wash Burgers, but it’s still in the same location. He was serving at the drive-thru hatch that particular night. Arnold had been seeing a young woman named Alison Reed.”

&nbs
p; “Is that relevant to the murder in some way?”

  “Yes. It was Alison who was murdered.”

  “I see. Sorry, please carry on.”

  “Alison was Arnold’s first serious girlfriend. He’d been so excited when they got together, but unfortunately it didn’t work out. He wouldn’t tell us the ins and outs of why it had ended, but I got the impression that she’d been seeing someone else behind his back.”

  “Just so I’m clear. How long before the night of her murder had their relationship ended?”

  “A few weeks before. On that particular night, Alison had gone to the drive-thru to order food, and it was Arnold who served her. Later that same night, her body was found in her car; she’d been poisoned. Traces of the poison that killed her were found in the food which she’d purchased from the drive-thru. They said that Arnold had administered the poison, but that’s complete nonsense.”

  “How had he taken the breakup of their relationship?”

  “He was devastated, but that doesn’t mean he wanted to hurt Alison. He’s not that kind of boy. He certainly would never have killed her.”

  “What other evidence did the prosecution produce in court?”

  “One of the witnesses, a friend of Alison Reed, testified that she’d seen Arnold threaten Alison. And worst of all, they found traces of the poison that killed Alison at the house Arnold shared.”

  “What did he have to say about that?”

  “He denies ever threatening Alison, and he has always maintained that he has no idea how the poison got there.”

  “How many people shared the house with Arnold?”

  “Just one other: A young man called Roy Sissons. I believe he still lives there. Do you think you’ll be able to help us to prove his innocence, Jill?”

  “I’ll certainly try, but I’ll need to spend a little time doing my own research on the case first. After I’ve done that, I’d like to talk to you again, this time at your house. Would that be possible?”

  “Of course.”

  The Kramers were in slightly higher spirits when they left. In truth, though, I wasn’t overly optimistic that I was going to be able to clear their son’s name. The fact that the police had found traces of the poison, which had killed Alison Reed, on the food that Arnold had served to her, and at his house, really wasn’t good.

  I was about to place the paperwork for this new case in a folder, but when I checked the drawer for a paperclip, the tray was empty. I could have sworn there were dozens the last time I looked.

  Just then, the temperature in the room dropped, and I could sense that a ghost was about to make an appearance. Winky must have sensed it too because he shot under the sofa. I assumed it would be my Mum or Dad, or even the colonel or Priscilla. In fact, it turned out to be Madge and Lily from the bridge club in GT.

  “Hello, you two. This is a surprise.”

  “I hope you don’t mind our dropping in on you like this, Jill,” Madge said.

  “Of course not. Won’t you take a seat?”

  “No, thanks.” Lily shook her head. “We can’t stay for long. We just wanted to drop by, to say thank you for what you did.”

  “It was my pleasure. I’m just glad that Selina and her boyfriend have been brought to book. It was bad enough that they stole the jewellery, but to then try and sell it to your surviving relatives. That was downright despicable. Has everyone got their jewellery back?”

  “It’s all been returned now,” Lily said. “Apart from that which had already been sold to a surviving relative of course. But at least we know that’s in good hands.”

  “I have some other exciting news, Jill,” Madge said. “I’m now in contact with Cynthia.”

  “Your daughter? That’s fantastic. I’m surprised because when I spoke to her, she seemed very sceptical about the afterlife.”

  “After what you told me about the reception she’d given you, I didn’t hold out much hope, but I figured it was worth one last try to contact her. And it worked.”

  “That’s brilliant.”

  “I think that your little chat with her must have sown a seed of doubt in her mind. Whatever the reason, she heard my voice when I called to her. She was a little shocked at first. Scared even. But once she’d got over that, everything was okay. We’ve spoken a few times since then.”

  “I’m so very happy for you, Madge.”

  “I can’t thank you enough, Jill. I know I originally came to you because of the missing jewellery, but being reunited with Cynthia is far more valuable to me than jewellery could ever be.”

  After Madge and Lily had left, I did some initial research on the Kramer case. What I discovered was pretty much in line with what the Kramers had told me.

  On that fateful night, Alison Reed had called at what was then known as The Burger Barn; a drive-thru on the Washbridge Westway roundabout. It had been her ex-boyfriend, Arnold Kramer, who had served her. That much was not in dispute because the exchange had been caught on CCTV.

  Alison Reed’s body had been found later that same evening in her car, which was parked outside her apartment. One of her neighbours had walked by the car and noticed that Alison had her head pressed up against the windscreen. In her phone call to the police, the woman had told them that Alison was unresponsive, and she thought she might be dead.

  The post-mortem would later reveal that Alison had died from poisoning. The substance that had killed her was some kind of rat poison. Forensic investigations had revealed that there were traces of that same poison on the burger that Alison had partially consumed. Having established that there had once been a relationship between Arnold and Alison, the police soon identified him as their prime suspect.

  Two days later, Arnold’s housemate had contacted the police because his cat had died after eating poison. It was soon established that the poison, which had killed the cat, was the same one that had been used to murder Alison.

  Right from the start, Arnold Kramer had insisted that he was innocent. Although he admitted he’d felt bitter for the way Alison had treated him, he denied killing her. Arnold insisted he knew nothing about the poison, but he could offer no explanation for how it came to be on the food or at his house.

  It was clear this was not going to be an easy case. The evidence was all stacked against Arnold, and it wasn’t difficult to see why the jury had convicted him.

  “Hey, Jill.” Winky held up his phone. “Do you want to see something hilarious?”

  “If it’s a photo of my decoupage, I’ve already told you to take that down.”

  “Nah, it’s not that. This is much funnier.”

  “Go on, then. I could do with a good laugh.”

  He jumped off the sofa, and onto my desk.

  “Just take a look at this.” He passed me his phone.

  “Where did you get that photo?”

  “They’ve definitely captured your nose.”

  “I asked where you got the photo of my waxwork from?”

  “I have my sources.”

  “But the museum is in the paranormal world.”

  “So? I have contacts there too. Is that waxwork really on view for the public to see?”

  “At the moment, yes. But not for much longer if I have anything to do with it.”

  “You should get them to make small replicas of it and bring one into the office. Every time I’m feeling a bit down, I could look at that, and it would be guaranteed to cheer me up.”

  “No chance.” I grabbed his phone.

  “Hey, what are you doing with that? You can’t throw it through the—”

  “Whoops. Sorry, it just slipped out of my hand.”

  Chapter 2

  Winky had disappeared out of the window, presumably in search of his phone. I’d done all the research I could for one day on the Kramer case, and I needed a break, so I magicked myself over to Aunt Lucy’s house.

  “Hi, Jill.” She was busy dusting the ornaments in the lounge.

  “Are you okay, Aunt Lucy? You look a little tire
d.”

  “To tell you the truth, I haven’t slept well for the last couple of nights.”

  “Lester hasn’t been eating apples recently, has he?”

  “Apples?” She looked somewhat puzzled by the question. “No, I don’t think so. He is rather partial to the occasional peach, though. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason. How come you haven’t been sleeping very well?”

  “Our new neighbours have had their baby. He’s a lovely little boy. Well, not so little actually. He certainly has a fine pair of lungs on him.”

  “The baby woke you up?”

  “Not exactly. When he starts to cry, it sets Barry off howling. He’s the one who wakes me up. I’ve tried telling him that it’s only a little baby, and there’s nothing to howl about. But, well, you know how Barry can be.”

  “A bit dim, you mean?”

  “I wouldn’t have put it quite so harshly. But yes.”

  “If you’d like to go and get your head down, I can always call back later.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’m pleased for an excuse to take a break. The dust will still be here later. Why don’t we go and have a cup of tea? You never know, it might wake me up a little.” We went through to the kitchen where Aunt Lucy put on the kettle, and then walked over to the cupboard. “You’re in luck, Jill. I bought a new packet of custard creams yesterday.”

  “You don’t happen to have any ginger nuts, do you?”

  “Instead of custard creams?”

  “Yeah. I really fancy a ginger nut right now.”

  “I never thought I’d see the day when you refused a custard cream.”

  “Neither did I. Perhaps I’ve just had too many over the years, and now it’s caught up with me.”

  “You’re in luck. I do have a packet of ginger nuts.”

  As we were chatting over a cuppa, I heard the sound of paws on the stairs. Moments later, Barry came charging into the room.

  “Hello, big guy, how are you?”

  “Hi, Jill.” He rested his paws on my knees. “I’m fine, thanks, but I’m very busy.” He turned to Aunt Lucy and said, “What would you like me to do now, Lucy?”