Pulling The Wool: A Magic Garden Mystery (Book 1) (5 page)

F
ern kept
her thoughts to herself the following morning. She still had some details to work out, so she set off early to The Magic Garden to throw herself into work, while she thought it through.

By mid-morning, she had worked out her plan.

Picking up her phone, Fern called the local vet office.

“Good morning, Thackery Vets, can I help you?”

“Morning, Anne. This is Fern Amesbury. Is Owen in, please?”

“Morning, Fern. Yes, he’s in but he’s checking on some of our patients out back. Can I help, or would you prefer to speak with him?”

“Would you mind asking him to call me as soon as he’s free, please? I’m at The Magic Garden…it’s kind of urgent.”

“Sure, Fern, I’ll pass the message on. Bye, now.”

Anne, the receptionist at Thackery Vets, hung up the call and Fern drummed her fingers on the counter. She had built herself up for the conversation and it was slightly disappointing that she’d have to wait now.

However, she needn’t have worried. Five minutes later, the phone rang.

“Good morning, The Magic Garden, Fern speaking.”

“Good morning, Fern. This is Owen. I got your message to call urgently? Is everything okay?”

Fern smiled at the concern in his voice.

“I’m fine thank you, Owen. However, I have some important information about Sir Chesterton’s sheep poisoning. Would it be possible for you and him to pay me a visit at the shop this morning, at some stage?” Fern crossed her fingers behind her back and held her breath, waiting for a response.

“I see. I presume it can’t be discussed over the phone?”

“No, I’m afraid not, Owen. I really do need to see both of you.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“Hold on a moment, Fern. Let me ask Anne to check my appointments.”

“Sure, of course.” Fern held the phone, whilst she heard their muffled voices in the background. A minute later, he was back on the line. “Fern, I have some time from noon today. Let me call Sir Chesterton and make sure that he is also free to come in then. I’ll call you back shortly.”

“That’s great, Owen. Thank you. I’ll look forward to hearing back from you soon.”

T
rue to his word
, fifteen minutes later, Owen called back and confirmed that they would both come into the shop at noon. It was perfect timing, as coinciding with lunch, Fern could close the shop to give them extra privacy.

Even though she was busy for the morning, Fern was also feeling nervous about the impending meeting. Her stomach felt like someone had set off butterflies in there. However, Fern’s sixth sense and gift of intuition had never let her down before, and now was not the time to doubt her skills.

A
t ten past twelve
, the doorbell to the shop signalled their arrival. Fern looked up from wrapping an order and gave them both a pleasant smile.

Owen offered her a bright smile in return, and behind, Fern noticed Sir Chesterton looking most put out, almost a grimace on his face.

“Hello, Fern.” Owen walked into the shop, Sir Chesterton following closely behind, his eyes darting all around her displays.

“Good afternoon gentlemen, thank you for coming to see me. Please, take a seat.”

Fern gestured to the seating area, whilst she walked over to the door and flipped the sign to
Closed For Lunch.

“What’s this all about, Fern?” Sir Chesterton took a seat on the sofa and helped himself to the coffee. “Owen mentioned you had some information on the sheep poisoning. Surely, you should be taking this to Willie?”

Fern inhaled a deep breath whilst she took a seat opposite them. Owen looked at her expectantly.

“I will be going to Constable Willie, but I wanted to give you the opportunity to tell me yourself.”

His coffee cup froze at his lip. Slowly, he replaced it back on the table.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m afraid that I know the truth. Your wife, Lady Cecily, poisoned the sheep, didn’t she? I watched your interview last night – it’s obvious to see how she feels about them.”

Owen held his hand up, whilst Sir Chesterton visibly reddened in front of them.

“Whoa, wait a minute, Fern!” Owen was shocked. “That’s a big allegation you’re throwing out here.”

“Agreed! That’s absolutely
preposterous
to suggest such a thing! My wife never goes near the damn animals! How dare you!”

Sir Chesterton was outraged, and made to stand up. Fern knew she only had a minute or so, before he’d barge out of the shop.

“Yes, I know your wife doesn’t like them, it gives her motive enough. But that’s not the truth is it, Sir Chesterton?”

“Girlie, I don’t know what language you’re speaking but I’ve heard enough of this nonsense!”

Fern wasn’t put off. She pressed on. “The truth is, you poisoned the sheep yourself, didn’t you? You were feeling the pressure from your wife and you knew you had to do something about it.”

The air stilled around them. Owen’s mouth fell open. Sir Chesterton, as if in slow motion, froze and then fell back into his seat, all colour draining from his face. He opened his mouth but no words came out.

“That’s what really happened, isn’t it?”

Fern spoke softly, her heart pounding against her chest as she waited for his confession. She prayed she was correct with her hunch. If not, she was going to be in a whole heap of trouble. Owen broke the dead silence surrounding them.

“Is that correct, Sir Chesterton?”

They watched as he hung his head, his hand covering his face. Slowly he nodded.

“Yes, it’s true.” Looking up at them, his eyes misted over. “I never meant to harm the poor animals…it’s just that I want to get out of the game. But with my reputation, I didn’t know
how
to do it. I’ve neglected my poor Cecily for some time now and I…” Fern watched as Sir Chesterton took a deep breath, trying to get a hold of his emotions. She poured him some water and offered him the glass. He took a sip gratefully. Suddenly he looked at both of them with fear in his eyes.

“What’s going to happen to me? Please, you can’t tell Willie – I’ll be thrown in prison for this.”

Fern glanced at Owen, who was worrying his lip. He nodded slowly.

“I won’t report it as a crime as long as you promise to sell the sheep off to someone who genuinely wants them.”

Sir Chesterton nodded gravely. “Of course. I never meant to harm them, it was a moment of insanity.” He looked at Fern at Owen with pleading eyes. “
Please
, you have to believe me.”

Fern looked away. She wasn’t ready to forgive him just yet.

“I’ll rule it as a case of accidental poisoning and I’ll ask my uncle to close the case. You haven’t filed an insurance claim, I presume?”

“No! Heavens, no.” He shook his head.

“Okay, good.” They were quiet.

“I’m glad the mystery is solved.” Fern offered a small smile to Owen and then stood up.

Her work was done.

Owen was up next and slowly, Sir Chesterton stood.

“Thank you for helping me to confess, Fern. It’s been weighing heavily on my shoulders since it’s happened.”

Fern nodded, her arms crossed. “Good. Just please make sure no more harm comes to those sheep.”

“I promise, no more harm.”

A few moments later, he gravely departed the shop, leaving Owen and Fern alone.

“Wow, you were amazing, Fern.” Owen looked at her with admiration in his eyes. “So, besides running the most beautiful florist I’ve ever seen, you’re what? A part-time sleuth on the side?” His eyes were twinkling and Fern blushed at his compliment. She smiled.

“I can’t say I’ve ever done any other sleuthing before.”

“Well, you could have fooled me. You solved the mystery. Good work, Fern.”

“Thank you, Owen.”

He looked at the clock behind her head.

“Well, I best be going, I have an appointment in ten minutes.”

It appeared as if he was reluctant to leave.

“Sure. I guess I’ll see you around.”

He nodded and walked to the door. Suddenly he turned back around, and locked eyes with Fern, who was still watching him.

“Have dinner with me one night.”

Fern sucked in a breath. A ton of emotions ran though her as well as a host of reasons why she should politely decline. Except that wasn’t what came out of her mouth.

“I’d love to.”

His face broke into a grin, matching hers.

“Great, I’ll call you later, Fern Amesbury.”

She held up her hand and gave him a small wave.

“Bye, Owen Gordon.”

I
t was Friday afternoon
, near closing time and Fern was busy with putting everything away. The few bunches of flowers, which were unsold, still had plenty of life left in them, thanks to her longevity spell. She’d keep them out the back, in her sun-charmed nursery.

The door jangled open and Fern looked up with a smile to see Anne, the receptionist from Thackery Vets.

“Hi, Anne.” Fern continued with her work, whilst Anne glanced around.

“Hi, Fern. Can you help me, please? I need to buy a bunch of your best flowers.”

“Oh lovely, is it for a special occasion?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve just been instructed to buy them?” She shrugged her shoulders. It wasn’t uncommon for Anne to run a few errands for the vet practice, so Fern assumed it was to do with something along those lines.

Scrutinizing her remaining ornamentals, Fern set to work picking up the stems and putting together a beautiful bouquet consisting of pinks and red hues, finished off with a big bow.

“Here you go, is this okay for you?”

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” She smiled. “The receiver will be very lucky.” Handing over her money, she wished her a good weekend and then left the shop.

Fern finished the last of her chores, flipped the sign to
Closed
and then left for the weekend. To be fair, if anyone needed flowers on a Saturday, they called Fern, who was only too happy to help out. She just liked to officially keep the weekend for herself, although with the way business was picking up, she was considering opening on Saturday mornings too.

A
n hour
later and at a loss for things to do, Fern wandered upstairs to her bedroom and pulled open her closet. Pushing her clothes aside from the rail, she found what she was looking for.

“Miaaaaowwwww. What are you doing, Fern?”

Fern spun around to see Essie watching her curiously, one ear cocked up.

“Oh hi, Essie. I haven’t used Sylvia in a while. I thought she could do with a polish.”

She turned back towards her closet, and placing her hands around it, she pulled out her broomstick.
Sylvia
. All of her family had special names for them and each broomstick was customised for her keeper.

Essie strolled into the room, and settled himself on the rug.

“Haven’t you got cooking to do for tonight?”

Fern carefully placed her broomstick on the bed. “Yes, but Alana just texted that she’s running a little late. And Zinnia won’t be back for a while either so I’ve got a bit of time.”

Fern reached for her polish and cloth and carefully started to wipe the shiny alder wood. Next she came to the sunken padded seat and ran her hands over the soft leather cushion.

“When are you ever going to take me for a ride, Fern?”

Fern stopped her movements and looked at Essie.

“Oh, Essie. I really want to, but you know I’m still new to flying. I’d hate to crash and hurt you.”

“I’ve seen you practice at nightfall, Fern. You’re much better than you think you are.”

Fern smiled kindly at Essie. He was always encouraging of her powers.

“Thank you.” She thought for a moment. “I tell you what. If it’s cloudy tomorrow night, I’ll take you for a spin. How about that? We’ll fly above the clouds as they’ll give us enough cover.”

Essie began to purr loudly. “I’m looking forward to it already.”

S
hortly after
, happy with her polished broom, she replaced it at her back of her closet once again.

“Time to whip up some dinner. Are you coming down, Essie?”

“No…I think I’ll snooze for a bit. Please, wake me up when dinner is served.” He closed his eye and curled himself up into a ball. Fern smiled to herself.

F
ern whipped
up a delicious chicken casserole with potatoes and just as she set the table, she heard laughter outside the front door. In walked Zinnia and Alana together, their heads bent in conversation.

“Hello, Fern. Look who I bumped into on the way home.”

Fern stepped forward and greeted her aunt and friend.

“You’re both just in time. Dinner is served.”

Fern’s ears detected a loud thump and a moment later, Essie appeared on the stairs. He must have heard. She smiled at him.

“Hey, Alana, come through.” Fern took her coat and hung it up.

“Smells delicious and I’m starving.” Alana sniffed the air appreciatively and followed her and Zinnia into the kitchen, where they took a seat at the table. Zinnia grabbed a bottle of red wine and they settled themselves in for supper.

A small bowl had been put out for Essie and he tucked into his meal. Alana watched him with fascination.

“Goodness, Fern. Look at Essie chomp into that food. Honestly, I’d swear that cat was half human sometimes.”

Fern and Zinnia caught each other’s eye and burst out laughing.

“I know what you mean, Alana. Sometimes, I wonder that same thing too.”

Once Fern served out the food, they discussed the aftermath of the sheep poisoning.

“So, how’s our famous sleuth doing a couple of days on from solving the crime?”

“Alana. Don’t call me that.”

Alana held up her hands, a smile on her lips. “Relax, Fern! I promise I haven’t said anything, I know I’m sworn to secrecy. Still, I’d love to interview you on air.”

Fern shook her head. “You know, I can’t do that for legal reasons.”

“I do. Still, your intuition skills were amazing. I can’t believe you cracked it just from watching the interview.”

Fern smiled. She hadn’t told Alana about her animal speaking skills and therefore couldn’t divulge her conversation with the barn cat.

“It was just the way he looked on screen – he just seemed
pained
when Lady Cecily said that he probably loved the sheep more than her. So, that struck a chord. Also, I discovered the fact that he was the only one who had access to feed the sheep. After that, it all just clicked into place.”

“Well, no one else made the connection, Fern. You did good, girl!” They all raised their glasses to clink with each other.

“I heard some very interesting gossip today, when I was out on the Barker farm earlier.” Zinnia took a sip of her wine. “It all ties up and explains the odd behaviour of Angela and Charles.”

Alana pushed her glasses further up her nose. “Ooooh, do tell. Do I sniff a story?”

Zinnia laughed. “Yes, I think you probably will be covering this. Turns out that the young Pince-Wittington has proposed to Angela Barker, hence all the sneaking around like Romeo and Juliet.”

“No way!” Fern burst out her surprise, shaking her head. “Who would have ever thought that? But it totally explains why they were so keen to keep their movements off the radar.”

“Yes, it does,” Zinnia, agreed. “Looks like the horse-loving man had found the farmwife of his dreams.”

“Well, I never.” Alana sipped her wine. “So, even with all the animosity between Matthew and Sir Chesterton, it looks like they’ll be thrown together after all.”

“Well, actually in more ways than one. Hence the reason I was down at the Barker farm today.”

“More news?” Fern sat forward in her seat. This was all quite surprising.

“Yes. Matthew has agreed to buy Sir Chesterton’s sheep. The Pince-Wittington’s have decided to head off on a cruise around the world, leaving Charles in charge.”

“Wow!” Fern and Alana looked at each other, shocked.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to find a replacement for his weekly radio show.” Alana looked deep in thought and then suddenly smiled.

“Why are you looking at us like that, young lady?” Zinnia eyed her suspiciously.

“I may have the perfect solution to fill the slot…”

“What?” Fern asked.

“Why don’t you two consider taking over the show? Fern, perhaps you could focus on local gardening tips, and Zinnia, you could talk about animal care?” Alana was grinning with excitement.

“Thank you, Alana. It does sound very interesting, doesn’t it, Fern?” Zinnia smiled, looking at Fern to see her reaction.

Fern cleared her throat.

“Can we give it some thought? It does sound exciting…I guess we just need to work out what we’d be doing on air.”

“Yayyyy!” Alana clapped her hands together in glee.

Just then the doorbell rang, interrupting them.

Fern looked at Zinnia and stood up. They weren’t expecting anyone. “I’ll get it.”

She walked to the front door and pulled it open.

“Owen! What are you doing here?”

Owen stood there with a small bag in one hand, and a huge bouquet of beautiful flowers in the other hand. He held them out to her and Fern giggled, recognising them.

“Are these the ones I prepared earlier for Anne?”

He grinned at her sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. “They’re the best in town.”

Fern took the flowers, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “Thank you, Owen,” she said somewhat breathlessly.

“Who’s at the door?” Fern turned around slightly flushed to see Zinnia approaching her. Upon noticing the beautiful flowers in Fern’s grasp, she grinned.

“Good evening, Zinnia. I was passing by and brought that ointment you asked for.” Owen held out the bag in his hand.

“Why, thank you, Owen.” She turned to Fern, smiling at both of them.

“Fern, where are your manners? Owen, please do come in!”

Fern’s cheeks reddened even further as she stood out of the way.

“I don’t want to impose on your evening.” He stood back from the door.

“Nonsense! Come on in, we’ve just finished supper. Fern cooked us a feast and there’s plenty more if you’re hungry!”

Owen laughed. “In that case, how could I refuse such a tempting offer?”

F
ern watched
as he followed Zinnia into the kitchen, greeting Alana along the way.

She noticed Essie from the corner of the eye watching them intently.

“What?” She whispered.

Essie looked her up and down and she could have sworn that he winked at her.

“Put it this way, Fern. Things are going to get
very
interesting around here.”

With that, he let out a loud miaow and walked away.

A
nd so
, everything was well in Thackery (for the moment), but Fern didn’t know what the future would hold.

Stealing a glance at Owen laughing along with Alana, suddenly Fern knew that change was in the air.

And she realised that whatever it was, she was very much looking forward to it.

* * *

T
he End
. (For now).