Witch Is When the Floodgates Opened Read online

  Witch Is When

  The Floodgates Opened

  Published by Implode Publishing Ltd

  © Implode Publishing Ltd 2016

  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

  The wart on the end of Grandma’s nose looked as though it might explode at any moment.

  “She said what?” Grandma shouted.

  “That she would like to take on responsibility for my tuition as a witch.”

  “And what exactly did you say?”

  “I said no, of course. I said you were teaching me, and I didn’t need anyone else’s help.”

  “That woman has only been back in Candlefield for five minutes, and already she’s wreaking havoc.”

  Grandma was upset because her arch rival, Martha Chivers, known to everyone as ‘Ma Chivers’, had approached me, and offered to oversee my development as a witch. Obviously, I’d declined her offer because even though Grandma would never be my favourite person, I’d take her over Ma Chivers any day of the week. And, I never thought I’d say this, but Grandma was actually easier on the eye, and not so mean spirited. Hard to believe, I know.

  “So, she just marched in here, did she?” Grandma was still breathing fire.

  “Yes, I’d no idea she was coming. She just turned up out of the blue.”

  “Right. Well, we’ll see about that. If she contacts you again, you are to call me immediately. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “Good.”

  With that, Grandma disappeared.

  Winky, who’d hidden under the leather sofa the moment Grandma arrived, now crawled back out and gave me a one-eyed look.

  “She wasn’t very happy, was she?” he said.

  “What gave it away?”

  “I took cover in case that wart of hers exploded.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “So, who rattled her cage?” he said, scratching an ear.

  “She’s upset that someone is trying to poach me. It’s so difficult being a superstar witch with everyone wanting a piece of you.”

  “No, seriously.” He laughed. “What’s really the matter with her?”

  “It’s true! Grandma is upset because another level six witch wants to take me under her wing.”

  “If your grandmother had any sense, she’d be glad to get shut of you. I bet you’re a nightmare to teach.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Anyway, enough of this witch nonsense, and on to more important matters. I’m starving.”

  Winky wasn’t exactly thrilled about the cat food I put out for him, but I couldn’t afford to buy him salmon all the time. When he’d finished eating, he turned to me, and said, “You haven’t forgotten about the darts tournament, have you?”

  He’d mentioned this some time ago, but I hadn’t been sure if he was serious or not. I knew he played darts; he’d hustled me for ten pounds. Even so, I couldn’t convince myself there were darts tournaments for cats.

  “Well? Do you remember?” he said, impatiently.

  “Yeah, vaguely.”

  “It’s the day after tomorrow. I’ll need you to take me and Bella.”

  “What about Cindy?”

  “I’d like to take them both, but that might be a bit—err—awkward.”

  “Could that be because they don’t know about one other?”

  “That might have something to do with it. I’d promised Bella that she could watch me play before I met Cindy.”

  “What’s it worth not to mention Cindy to Bella?”

  “About the same as for me not to tell Jack about Drake. Or Luther. Or—”

  “Okay, okay. I get the idea. I won’t say anything.”

  ***

  It was nine-thirty, and Mrs V still wasn’t at her desk—very unusual. I’d assumed that her bus must have been delayed, but even if it had, she should still have been in by now.

  “Hey, Winky.”

  “I’m busy.” He was doing something with his smartphone. He was never off the thing: FelineSocial, Angry Birds. Who knew what else he was looking at on there?

  “I just wondered if you’d seen Mrs V this morning?”

  “The old bag lady? Yeah, she was in earlier; before you arrived. She put a note on your desk.”

  “I haven’t seen it.”

  “I took it under the sofa to read.”

  “Where is it now?”

  “Still under there, I assume.”

  “Would you mind getting it?”

  “I’m busy. I’ve got ten ‘licks’ now.”

  “I don’t care how many ‘licks’ you’ve got. What gives you the right to read my messages?”

  “I thought it might have been important. I was going to let you know if there was something which needed urgent attention.”

  “And how exactly would you have done that?”

  “I’d have called you, of course.”

  “You don’t have my number.”

  “Yeah. Okay, if that’s what you want to believe.”

  “So, are you going to get it for me or not?”

  “Nah.”

  I scrambled under the sofa, and came out covered in dust and cat hair. The message read:

  ‘Jill, sorry to drop this on you at the last minute, but G says she’s coming over, and I simply can’t face her. Would you tell her that I’ve emigrated, or fallen down a hole? I’ll be back as soon as she’s gone. Sorry to leave you in the lurch, Annabel V.’

  I couldn’t say I blamed Mrs V. Her sister was a nasty piece of work who was always putting her down. I’d just have to get rid of ‘G’ when she arrived.

  My phone rang; it was the twins. They sounded even more excited than usual.

  “Jill, you have to come over,” Amber said. “We have something we want to show you.”

  “What?

  “You have to come over here,” Pearl insisted. “It’ll be much better if you see it.”

  “I am quite busy. I do have a business to run you know.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not like you ever have any work, is it?” Amber said.

  “Gee thanks!”

  “Come over, Jill. It’ll be worth it, we promise.”

  “Okay, I’m on my way.”

  ***

  “What do you think?” Pearl said. “It’s good, isn’t it? It’s a chocolate fountain.”

  “It’s very big.” I craned my neck to try to see the top of it. “I’ve never seen one as big as that.”

  “It was on special offer,” she said. “The man said that the small ones are ten-a-penny. This one is the ‘Supreme’.”

  “This man? Was he selling anything else? Snakes? Oil?”

  “You’re such a cynic, Jill.”

  Moi?

  “It takes up rather a lot of room on the counter doesn’t it?” I said. “How will you be able to see the customers?”

  “There’s still a bit of space at the side. Look.” Amber went around the back of the counter, and poked her head through the gap to prove her point.

  “Hmm, okay. So how does it work?”

  “We haven’t figured that out yet,” Amber said. “But once it’s working, the chocolate will cascade down these levels.”

  “How many levels
are there?”

  “On the standard model there are only three, but on the Supreme there are ten. We’ve got far more levels than anyone else.”

  “That’s great—I guess.”

  “We’ll be able to dip marshmallows, fruit and all sorts of things into it. It’ll be brilliant won’t it, Jill?”

  “Fantastic.”

  Pearl and I left Amber tinkering around with the fountain.

  “Has Aunt Lucy seen it?”

  “Don’t talk to me about Mum.”

  “Why, what’s happened?”

  “Amber and me aren’t talking to her.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she made birthday cakes for Miles Best. She’s a traitor!”

  I hadn’t realised the twins had found out about that. Aunt Lucy hadn’t done it deliberately—she’d been making them for a middleman, and had no idea they would be sold in Best Cakes. Once she found out, she stopped supplying them.

  “I’m sure she wouldn’t have done it if she’d known who they were for.”

  “Huh! That’s what she said, but we think she knew all along. So, we’re not talking to her until she apologises.”

  ***

  There was still no sign of Mrs V or her sister by the time I called it a day at the office. Maybe G had changed her mind about the visit?

  Back at the flat, I decided to have an early night. I was sitting up in bed, reading, when I heard something. It sounded like there was someone in the flat. I grabbed Dad’s old golf club which I always kept under the bed, and crept quietly out of the bedroom. There was someone in the kitchen; I could hear them moving around. Whoever it was, would regret sneaking into my flat. I walked on tip toe into the kitchen.

  “Mum! What are you doing here?”

  “I was just—err. I wanted to—err. To make sure you weren’t upset after Ma Chivers’ visit.”

  “Err—no. She’s a bit scary, but I’m not upset. Do you realise what time it is?”

  “Sorry. It is rather late isn’t it. I wasn’t thinking. So, you’re okay then?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I don’t think Grandma is though. She was really annoyed when I told her.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. She and Ma Chivers don’t get along at the best of times. Anyway, I suppose I’d better get going. I’m sorry I disturbed you. Goodnight then, dear.”

  With that, she disappeared. What was that all about? Why was she sneaking around in my kitchen late at night?

  Something weird was going on.

  Chapter 2

  The next morning, there was someone sitting at Mrs V’s desk. It wasn’t Mrs V.

  “Good morning, Mrs G.”

  “Morning, Jill. Annabel seems to have disappeared. I tried her house, but she wasn’t there. I assumed she’d be here, but there’s no sign of her. I thought you might know where she is?”

  “No, sorry, but I’ll tell her you called.”

  “No need. I can see that V has left you in the lurch, so I’m more than happy to help out.”

  “That really isn’t necessary—”

  “It’s no problem. I’m quite an accomplished PA. Somewhat better than V, if I do say so myself. Is there anything you’d like me to get started on?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well then, perhaps you could make me a cup of tea?”

  “Me make you a cup of tea?”

  “Yes please. Milk, no sugar. And do you happen to have any biscuits?”

  ***

  Winky rolled his eye.

  “I see we’ve got the other bookend here again.”

  “Yeah, it looks like it.” I sighed. “I wish I knew where Mrs V has gone.”

  “I’ve told you before: it’s about time you got rid of the old bag lady, and her sister, and recruited a pretty young thing. Someone who’ll show me the kind of love and respect I deserve.”

  “Don’t I do that?”

  “Only when I’m blackmailing you.”

  The intercom startled me. Mrs V was so hard of hearing, she never used it. When Mrs G’s voice came booming through, both Winky and I almost jumped out of our seats.

  “Jill!” Mrs G shouted. “Jill!”

  “Yes, Mrs G, I can hear you.”

  “There’s a gentleman out here—a Colonel Briggs. Shall I get rid of him?”

  “No, don’t do that. Please send him in.”

  “Alright then—if you’re sure.”

  “Yes. Please send him through.”

  “Good morning, Jill,” the colonel said.

  He looked as debonair as ever.

  “And good morning to you, young man.” He addressed Winky.

  Winky eyed him suspiciously. He wasn’t a fan of the colonel who ran a charity for dogs.

  “What can I do for you, Colonel?”

  “I have a friend by the name of Cuthbert Cutts. Actually, Sir Cuthbert Cutts. You may have heard of him?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “He owns the large stately home on the eastern fringes of Washbridge. He and I were talking at the club the other day, after a round of golf. He’s been having a spot of bother, so I mentioned that I knew a good P.I. who might be able to help, and he seemed very keen.”

  “What’s the problem exactly?”

  “It’s rather delicate. He has a fabulous collection of antiques, and it seems that one of them has gone missing.”

  “Was there a break-in?”

  “I’m not sure. I thought it best for you to meet with him. Would you have the time, or are you too busy?”

  “Well—I am rather busy,” I lied. “But as it’s you, Colonel, I’m sure I could fit it in.”

  “Jolly good! Here’s his card—perhaps you would give him a call, and arrange a meeting?”

  “Certainly. It will be my pleasure.”

  “Thank you very much. You must come up to the house for drinks some time, Jill. Bring your sister, and Peter, and your young man—if you have one.”

  Did I have one? It was a good question.

  ***

  As I made my way up Kathy’s drive, I noticed they appeared to have a new next door neighbour in the house where I’d got rid of the werewolf.

  “Auntie Jill, they’ve got chickens,” Lizzy shouted.

  “Lots of them,” Mikey said.

  “Who has?”

  “Let Auntie Jill get in,” Kathy said, shooing the kids away from the door. “Come on. It’s nearly time for school. Go and get ready.”

  “We want to show Auntie Jill the chickens,” Lizzie said. “Please, can we?”

  Kathy sighed. “Okay, but you’ll have to be quick.”

  She disappeared into the kitchen, and I followed the kids upstairs into Lizzie’s bedroom which overlooked the neighbour’s garden.

  “Look, Auntie Jill. Look! Chickens!” Mikey pointed.

  I looked down into the neighbour’s garden. What I’d thought was a large shed was actually a chicken coop. The back garden was full of chickens. Lots of them.

  “Aren’t they great?” Lizzie screamed.

  “Mum doesn’t like them,” Mikey said. “But I think they’re fantastic.”

  “Yeah,” Lizzie said. “They chase each other around, and they go in and out of their house.”

  “How long have they been here?”

  “Kids, come on. It’s time for school,” Kathy shouted from downstairs. “Your dad’s waiting for you.”

  “Aw, Mum,” Mikey groaned.

  “Can’t we just watch for a bit longer?” Lizzie pleaded.

  “No, it’s time to go. Come on, you’ll be late.”

  The kids grabbed their backpacks, and went reluctantly downstairs where Peter was waiting for them.

  “Morning, Peter,” I shouted from the landing.

  “Morning, Jill. I take it the kids have shown you our new neighbours.”

  “The chickens, you mean?”

  “Yeah, just what we needed. I’d better get the kids to school. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  After t
he kids had left, I caught up with Kathy in the kitchen.

  “Don’t talk to me about chickens!” she said. “The kids are driving me crackers with them.”

  “Are you even allowed to keep chickens on this estate?”

  “Apparently, yes. I wasn’t sure, but Pete checked the bylaws and the leases. It seems there’s nothing to stop anyone keeping chickens. And that’s not all. They’ve got a goat out there as well.”

  “I didn’t see it.”

  “It’s tied up on the other side of the garden, thank goodness. But the chickens roam free around the garden.”

  “Have you actually met your new neighbours yet?”

  “Yeah. Frank and Fiona Flood. They’re very nice. Middle aged, a little bit hippy, I suppose, which probably explains the chickens. Apparently, they plan to live off the land; they’ve already started planting vegetables. They’re perfectly nice people, there’s nothing to dislike about them, except for the chickens. And the goat.”

  “Have you said anything to them about the livestock situation?”

  “I was about to, but then they handed me a box of eggs, and said we could have as many as we liked, as often as we liked. What could I say—other than thank you?”

  “Oh well, at least they’re not as noisy as your last neighbour.”

  “That’s true. We don’t get the awful howling that we had with him. That was all a bit strange. He just disappeared overnight.”

  “Really?” I feigned surprise. “How strange.”

  “Why do you buy this rag?” I shouted to Kathy who was in the kitchen, making a cup of tea.

  The Bugle loved its dramatic headlines. Today’s was ‘Double Trouble at Museum’. Another nonsense story—it seemed to be their speciality.

  “Pete likes to get it for the sports.” She brought through the tea and biscuits.

  “Hasn’t he heard of the Internet?”

  “You know Pete. He’s strictly old school.”

  “There’s only one left.” I held up the Tupperware box.

  “Sorry, I forgot to buy some.” Kathy shrugged. “Is that the only reason you came around here? To eat my custard creams?”