Witch Is When Stuff Got Serious (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 11) (4 page)

Chapter 5

I was pleased to discover that the mini-market across the road from my block of flats had, at long last, restocked on custard creams. And about time, too!

Jammie Dodgers, indeed!

I bought five packets—just in case there was a rush on them.

There was a large crowd gathered around the front of my building. What was going on? As I got closer, I noticed a number of small signs which had been pushed into the grass. They read:
‘Yard Sale Today’
.

I enjoyed a good yard sale. Obviously, most of what was on offer was usually rubbish, but you could occasionally pick up a bargain. This one had certainly attracted a crowd; there were dozens of people milling around. It was only when I got closer that I realised the person running the yard sale was none other than Betty Longbottom.

My heart sank.

I took a quick look around the tables, and sure enough, there was all the contraband which she’d had stashed in her spare bedroom. The contraband which I’d managed to hide from the police when they’d caught her shoplifting. I’d made her promise that she’d return all of these goods, and stop the shoplifting. So why was she selling it in a yard sale?

“Betty!”

“Hi, Jill.”

“Or should I call you Miss Longbottom?”

“Betty’s fine. I only insist on Miss Longbottom when I’m on duty.”

“I thought tax inspectors were always on duty. Did Luther get in touch with you?”

“He did. Everything is sorted now. Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Good.”

I would have loved to be a fly on the wall when Betty met Luther. She’d probably thrown herself at him. Poor old Luther—having to fight off a rampant Longbottom.

“Hi, Jill.”

Speak of the devil.

“Hi, gorgeous.” Luther planted a kiss on Betty’s lips.

What? How? Why?

“Morning, Luthie.” Betty was positively glowing.

Luthie?

Was this some kind of practical joke? Had they staged this little charade for my benefit?

“Are you two—err—I mean—are you?” My brain had turned to mush.

“We are!” Betty gushed. “And it’s all thanks to you!”

“Yes. Thanks, Jill.” Luther flashed that sexy smile of his.

How had Betty Longbottom gone from Norman AKA Mastermind to sex god, Luther Stone?

“I’ve got to dash, Betty.” Luther planted another kiss on her lips. “Bye, Jill.”

I was still too stunned to speak.

“Don’t you think he’s sexy?” Betty said, once he’d left.

“I suppose. Can’t say I’d really thought about it.”

“Do you see anything you’d like to buy, Jill?”

She was doing a brisk trade, but that was hardly surprising. There were designer shoes, dresses, coats and handbags. Plus, jewellery and expensive perfume. All at rock-bottom prices.

“No, there
isn’t
anything I want to buy. What do you think you’re doing selling this stuff?”

“It’s taking up room in my flat.”

“You promised me you’d take it all back to the shops.”

“I know, but it would have taken too long. I thought the best thing I could do would be to sell it, and give the proceeds to charity.”

That was something, at least.

“Which charity?”

“Crustaceans Rescue And Preservation.”

“C.R.A.P?”

“Yes.”

You couldn’t make this stuff up.

***

A brand new bar had opened in Washbridge, so I decided to check it out. It was called Bar Fish, which I thought was an unusual choice of name, but when I walked inside I could see why. One whole wall was a gigantic fish tank filled with every size and shape of tropical fish imaginable. I was absolutely mesmerised. But it didn’t end there. Glass tubes ran along the walls, and below my feet were large tanks which ran the full length of the building. It was amazing!

The barman greeted me with a smile.

“This place is spectacular,” I said.

“It is kind of amazing, isn’t it?” The man’s waistcoat was covered in pictures of tropical fish.

“Could I have a small, white wine, please?”

“I’m sorry, madam. We only serve fishtails.”

“Fishtails?”

“It’s our version of a cocktail.”

“Oh, right. I see. Could I have the drinks list, then.”

Every drink was named after a tropical fish. “What would you recommend?”

“The Silver Shark is very nice. It’s not too strong for this time of day.”

“Okay, then. I’ll give it a try.”

Once I had my drink, I found a table close to the wall of fish. The fishtail was a little bitter, but perfectly acceptable.

“Jill!” a familiar voice said.

“Mr Ivers?”

“What do you think of this place?” he said. “Brilliant, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely. I can’t stay long, though. I have a meeting.” I thought I’d better get my excuses in early before he decided to join me.

“You must stay long enough to meet Tess.”

“Is she here?”

“Yes. She’s just popped to the loo.” He glanced around. “There she is now.”

I followed his gaze.

Oh no! Tess—I should have realised. It was Alicia.

“Tess.” Mr Ivers beamed. “This is Jill. She lives in the same block of flats as me.”

Tess, or Alicia, or whatever she was calling herself today, flashed me her evil smile, and held out her hand. “So pleased to meet you, Jill. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Likewise.”

Our handshake was brutal; neither of us gave an inch.

“I’m just going to pop to the loo myself,” Mr Ivers said. “And then we have to get going.”

“What are you playing at, Alicia?” I said, as soon as he was out of earshot.

“Who, me? Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that. Do you expect me to believe it’s a coincidence that you’re dating my neighbour?”

“You know how much I love humans.”

“If you harm Mr Ivers, you’ll have me to answer to.”

“You don’t scare me, Gooder. Provided the human keeps me amused, he’ll be fine. But if he bores me, well—”

“I’m back.” Mr Ivers was all smiles. “I hope you two weren’t talking about me.”

“I think Jill may be a little jealous.” Alicia gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Mr Ivers blushed. “Come on, Tess. Let’s make tracks. We can go and have another look at those dresses you saw earlier.”

That woman was pure evil.

***

The twins were once again with their fiancés in Cuppy C. I’d never seen them spend so much time together. They were all seated at the same window table while a couple of their assistants were behind the counter.

At least, now the conveyor belt had been dismantled and taken away, I could get to them without having to crawl along the floor.

“Hi, guys.”

They all greeted me warmly.

“I see you got rid of the conveyor belt.”

“Good riddance!” Pearl said. “Amber and her bright ideas.”

“It wasn’t
my
idea!” Amber rounded on her sister. “It was yours.”

“Wasn’t!”

“Was!”

William rolled his eyes. Alan shook his head.

“Well, it’s gone now.” I interrupted. “That’s the main thing. Anyway, it’s nice to see you two spending time with your fiancés.”

“I don’t know why we bothered,” Amber said. “All these two want to talk about is BoundBall.”

“Boring!” Pearl faked a yawn.

Alan and William looked suitably chastised, but only for the briefest of moments. Then they went back to their conversation.

I’d been a guest of honour at the last BoundBall competition by way of thanks for finding the missing trophy. It had been a hugely popular event which had drawn a massive crowd.

Bingo! I’d had an idea.

“Can I join you for a few minutes?”

“Of course, pull up a chair.”

“Annie Christy came to see me.”

“How is she? And how’s her mum?”

“Fine, but Annie’s worried about SupAid. They’re struggling for donations. She asked if I could come up with any ideas for a fundraising event.”

“Have you thought of anything?” Amber said.

“I hadn’t, but I have now. What about if the women take on the men at BoundBall?”

Suddenly Alan and William looked up, and both began to laugh—hysterically.

“What’s so funny about that?” I didn’t bother trying to hide my annoyance at their reaction.

“Women?” Alan managed through his laughter. “Play BoundBall?”

“That’s a joke, right?” William said.

“Why shouldn’t women play BoundBall?”

“They never have. It’s a man’s sport,” William said.

I could feel my anger rising.
A man’s sport?

“Okay, you two, so if I could organise this, I assume you’d be willing to give the women’s team a start?”

“We could give them a hundred start,” William said. “They’d still have no chance.”

“Right, you’re on. I’ll make the arrangements with Annie Christy. We’ll sort out a day and a venue, and we’ll whoop your asses.”

“Of course you will.” They both laughed.

“Anyway, we’d better be making tracks,” William said. “We’ll leave you women to come up with a game plan. You’re going to need one.”

Alan and William were still laughing as they made their way out of the tea room. After they’d left, Amber and Pearl turned to me. They looked horrified.

“What were you thinking, Jill?” Amber said. “Women can’t take on the men at BoundBall, we’ll get slaughtered!”

“Of course we can. If they give us a hundred start, how difficult can it be?”

“Where are you going to get a team from?”

“I don’t know. I’ll put an advert in The Candle, and I can stick a flyer on your notice board. I’m sure it won’t be that difficult to assemble a team of women to take on the men. Let’s show them what we’re made of.”

“What do you mean,
we
?” Amber said. “
I’m
not playing.”

“Nor me,” Pearl said. “I’ve never played BoundBall.”

“Come on, girls, surely you’re not going to let me down?”

“You’re on your own, Jill. Best of luck.”

I called Annie Christy to give her the good news.

“Annie, I’ve think I’ve come up with an idea.”

“Really? What is it?”

“I thought we could organise a BoundBall match—men versus women.”

She went silent, and for a moment, I thought we’d been cut off.

“Annie, are you there?”

“Are you insane, Jill?”

Not quite the reaction I’d hoped for.

“No. I think it could work. It should stir up some interest.”

“Oh, it’ll definitely do that. Every man in Candlefield will be there to laugh at your team.”

“I don’t care. If it raises money, what does it matter? And besides which, they said we could have a hundred start. With that, I think we have a good chance of winning.”

“Okay, Jill. I’m happy to go along with it if you’re willing to organise a team.”

“Of course I am.”

“Okay then. We’ll talk again soon. Bye.”

Oh, bum! What had I let myself in for now?

***

I didn’t go shopping with Kathy very often because she usually ended up driving me insane. She could spend forever looking at shoes or handbags, and still end up buying nothing. Today though, she’d persuaded me to help her pick out some new curtains. As she’d rightly pointed out, I had impeccable taste when it came to soft furnishings.

We’d just come out of ‘It’s Curtains For You’, when I heard someone call my name. I didn’t recognise the woman at first, but then, when she got closer, I realised it was Dorothy’s mother, Dolly.

“Hello there, Dolly. What brings you to Washbridge?”

“I’m here to see how Dorothy is settling in.”

“How is she doing?”

“Very well, thank you. And it’s all down to you. It was great what you did—helping her to find that apartment. She really fell on her feet there. And her flatmates seem very nice. A little strange, but very nice.”

“I’m pleased I could help. This is my sister, Kathy. We’re shopping for curtains.”

“Pleased to meet you, Kathy.” Dolly smiled a toothy grin.

“You too, Dolly,” Kathy said. I could tell Kathy was desperate to ask who she was.

“I want to show my appreciation,” Dolly said. “For helping Dorothy.”