Witch Is When It All Began (11 page)

Chapter 16

“Thanks for coming Jill,” Kathy said when I was ready to leave. The kids had all been collected by their parents and Peter was putting Lizzie and Mikey to bed.

“No problem. I enjoyed it.”

“Liar.” Kathy grinned.

“I'll call you.”

As I made my way to the car, I looked back at the house, and saw a little face at one of the windows. What kind of aunt was I? My poor niece would probably have nightmares because of me. But what was I supposed to do? Tell them I'd used a 'take it back' spell? Lizzie was looking at me like I was some kind of witch.

I'd had my phone switched off during the party—Kathy had insisted. She'd said she didn't trust me, and even suggested I might have arranged for Mrs V to call and say I was needed on urgent business. As if I would have stooped so low. Sure enough, when I switched it back on, there were nine missed calls. The log showed they were all from my office. I'd told Mrs V to call me thirty minutes after the party started to get me out of there. Seven of the calls were within a few minutes of each other, but the last two were only a few minutes ago.

I called the office. “Mrs V?”

“Where were you?” She sounded annoyed. Had Winky managed to open the linen basket?

“Kathy made me switch my phone off. What's up?” I knew something must have happened because normally Mrs V would have left the office by now.

“Have you seen the news?”

“No. Why?”

“There's been an arrest in the Fox case.”

“What? Okay, thanks. I'll take a look. You can get off home now. Thanks for staying.”

I fired up the news app on my phone and checked the local stories. Sure enough the main headline was ‘Serial killer arrested’.

The story was obviously still developing, so there were practically no details other than the fact that an arrest had been made. I doubted the police would have used the term 'serial killer'. That was more likely to have come from the news desk. A man had been arrested, but it wasn't clear if he had been charged with one or all of the murders.

My phone rang.

“Have you seen it?” Danny Peterson said.

“Yes. Have the police been in touch with you?”

“No. I rang them but they won't tell me anything. Is it Caroline's killer?”

“I don't know, Danny. Leave it with me and I'll see what I can find out. I'll call you as soon as I know anything.”

I called the police station and used the name of one of my press contacts rather than my own.

“There's a press conference scheduled for nine-thirty in the morning,” the bored voice said.

“Can you tell me if the suspect has been charged with all three murders?”

“There's a press conference scheduled for nine-thirty in the morning.”

I wasn't going to get anything out of him. I was tempted to pay another
invisible
visit to the police station, but that seemed unnecessarily risky. For once in my life, I'd have to be patient and see what the morning press conference revealed.

Back at the flat, I was still feeling a tinge of guilt over the Lego hotel incident. I could still see the look on Lizzie's face. To take my mind off it, I decided to practise and memorise some more spells. I was slowly building up quite an arsenal of them. It was all still very exciting, but would have been even better if I could have shared it with someone. I'd have loved to shown off my 'powers' to Kathy. Her face would have been a picture.

I came across one spell which looked particularly fascinating. As soon as I spotted the ‘mind read’ spell, I knew it was one I wanted to master. As its name suggested, it would allow me to read another person's thoughts. As always, the spell came with all kinds of conditions and restrictions. It wouldn't work on sups or on any human under the age of eighteen. And, it would only work on someone standing directly in front of me—I had to be looking them in the eye. It lasted for only thirty seconds, which didn't sound like very long. The worst restriction of all was that I could only use that spell once a year. Who knew magic came with so much red tape?

The next morning, it was raining and blowing a gale. The press conference had been scheduled for nine-thirty, and I'd arrived at police HQ fifteen minutes early. I needn't have bothered because a notice on the door said the press conference had been put back to ten o'clock. There was a huge crowd of reporters and TV crews—not surprising—this was Washbridge’s first serial killer. I wasn't sure if I'd get inside because I didn't have any press credentials. I planned on walking in with one of the TV crews—I doubted they'd bother checking everyone. If that didn't work, I had other less conventional options open to me.

“Have they caught the 'Animal'?” a voice to my right said.

The man was wearing a press badge, and I could see he was from the Bugle. His question didn't appear to be directed at anyone in particular.

“No idea, Jimmy.” The reply came from a young woman, who was holding a microphone. “They're keeping tight-lipped on this one.”

The doors opened, and the crowd poured inside. As I'd hoped, no one asked for my ID. The small conference room was full to bursting, but I managed to manoeuvre my way towards the front. Once the doors had been closed behind us, Jack Maxwell, flanked by two other plain clothes officers, appeared through a door to our right. Even before he could speak, numerous voices hurled questions his way. Inscrutable as ever, he stood in silence at the front of the room—waiting.

Only when the room fell silent again, did he speak, “Yesterday, at four-fifteen Martin Kilburn was arrested and charged with the murders of Pauline Lyon, Trisha Lamb and Caroline Fox. He'll appear in court this afternoon.”

“So, Kilburn is the 'Animal'?” A male voice came from somewhere behind me.

“I'm not sure I understand the question,” Maxwell answered—deadpan.

“Was the murderer known to the victims?”

“It doesn't appear so.”

“Is Kilburn local?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you said that Caroline Fox's murder had a different MO from the first two murders?” I shouted above the other voices.

Maxwell's gaze met mine. I wondered for a moment if he'd have me thrown out because he knew I wasn't press. “That's correct. The MO for Caroline Fox's murder was different.”

“But you've charged Kilburn with all three murders,” I pressed.

“That's what I said.”

Shortly afterwards, Maxwell called an end to the press conference, and cleared the room. I was almost out of the door when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Can I have a word?” Maxwell said. It wasn't a question.

He waited until the last of the reporters left, and then got in my face, “Since when are you press?”

I shrugged. If he expected an apology, he was going to be disappointed.

“The next time you gatecrash a press conference, I'll have you arrested.”

I laughed. “And charged with what, exactly?”

“Obstructing the police.”

“Grow up. Don't you have anything better to worry about than me?”

“You've been warned.” He turned and began to walk away.

“Wait!”

“What now?” He turned back to face me. This was my opportunity. I cast the 'mind read' spell.

“How did you identify and capture the suspect?” I asked.

I knew he wouldn't answer, but I was playing a hunch. If my question stimulated his mind to run through the events leading to the arrest, I'd be able to read his thoughts.

“It's time for you to leave.” He took hold of my arm. As he did, the spell began to work. I could read his thoughts as clearly as if he'd spoken them.

It wasn't what I'd been expecting.

Danny Peterson was waiting for me back at the office. Winky was perched on the window sill, glaring at the young man.

“Is that old lady okay?” Danny said.

“Who, Mrs V? Yeah, she's fine—mostly.”

“She asked me if I wanted a scarf. Or a cat.”

“Take no notice.”

“I just came by to say thanks.”

“There's nothing to thank me for. I didn't really make any headway with your case.”

“You managed to get them to see it was the work of a serial killer.”

“Not really. Detective Maxwell must have worked that out all by himself. I'm the last person on earth that he'd listen to.”

“I don't trust this guy,” Winky said, still glaring at Danny.

“Hush!” I said to Winky.

“Sorry?” Danny looked confused.

“His eyes are too close together,” Winky hissed.

“Quiet.”

Danny looked really confused now—little wonder.

“Not you. I was talking to the cat.”

“Oh.” Danny gave me a sympathetic smile.

“Do you know the man they’ve arrested?” I asked.

Danny shook his head. “I’ve never heard of him, but I hope they lock him up and throw away the key.”

I waited until I heard the outer door close, and then turned on Winky. “Don't do that!”

“What?”

“Talk to me when I'm with someone.”

“Why not?”

“Because—because you're a cat.”

“So?”

“It's off-putting.”

“I still don't trust him. Did you see his eyes? Untrustworthy.”

“You're hardly in a position to judge someone based upon their eyes.” I turned away, and said under my breath, “Or lack of them.”

“I heard that!”

Aunt Lucy was thrilled when I called to say I was going to pay her a visit. I hadn't planned on going to Candlefield so soon, but now that the Fox case was wrapped up, there wasn't really anything to stop me. I wanted to practise my magic in the open, and I assumed there would be more opportunity to do that among my own kind.
My own kind?
Listen to me. It still felt weird to think of myself as a sup.

The road sign and turn-off were exactly where they should have been. I still couldn't get my head around the idea that humans couldn't see either of them. I was really excited about meeting my cousins and grandma. Maybe they'd give me some pointers to improve my spell-casting technique. I was definitely getting better—way faster than my early attempts. When I'd spoken to Aunt Lucy on the phone, I'd asked her for her address and directions. Cryptically, she'd said, “Don't worry your head about those, dear. The car will find us.”

I'd been a little dubious, but as soon as I arrived in Candlefield, the car did indeed seem to know where it was going. It was as though I had an invisible SatNav, which was guiding me to my destination. The cottage was unmistakeably Aunt Lucy's. Every surface was painted a different pastel colour.

“Hi, Jill!” She appeared in the doorway.

“Where shall I park the car?”

“It'll be fine right there. Do you have bags?”

“Just this.” I pulled the small case out of the back seat.

“Give me a hug!” She threw her arms around me. “Come inside. I was about to make a pot of tea.”

Never in my entire life had I seen such a colourful cupcake. “That was delicious,” I said, a little guilty at the speed at which I'd devoured it.

“You have the twins to thank for that. Did I tell you they have a cake-shop and tea room?”

“They must do very well if this is anything to go by.”

“You'll have to pay it a visit while you're here.”

“I'd like that. I'm looking forward to meeting them.”

“I've arranged for them and Grandma to come over this evening. They're all really excited about meeting you.” She hesitated. “Well, the twins are. Grandma doesn't really do excited.”

“Will I have time to take a look around the village first?”

“Of course, my dear. Dinner is at six.”

I checked my watch; it had just turned three. “I don't expect it will take long to see everything.”

“You might be surprised.” There was a mischievous glint in her eye.

“What?”

“Candlefield isn't like anywhere you've been before. Not everything is what it appears to be, including the size of the village.”

A few weeks earlier, I might have taken her comment with a pinch of salt, but after my experience with the disappearing road, I was no longer so dismissive. “I'll see you later then.” I turned to walk away, but then hesitated. “Should I worry about the Dark One and his cronies?”

“You should be safe during daylight hours, but it might be best if you don't venture out alone after dark until you know the lie of the land. It's certainly much safer for you to be here than in the human world.”

“Okay, thanks. See you later then.”

Chapter 17

I'd been walking up the same winding road for almost ten minutes, and I still hadn't reached the top of the hill. From Aunt Lucy's house, the hill had looked no more than a couple of minutes’ climb. But then, Aunt Lucy had warned me that not everything was what it appeared to be in Candlefield.

Every house I passed seemed to be unique unlike the identikit houses I was used to seeing in Washbridge. I was fascinated by the different shapes, sizes and colours of the properties that bordered the road. Every time I spotted someone at a window, they greeted me with a smile and a wave. Back home, I'd have been given a dirty look or worse.

When I finally made it to the top of the hill, the view took my breath away. Until then, I'd thought of Candlefield as a village, but it was the size of a large city which stretched as far as the eye could see. How could somewhere like this exist, and yet be invisible to humans?

No wonder Aunt Lucy had been amused when I'd said it wouldn't take long to look around the place. It would have taken me at least a week. It was like no other city I'd ever seen. There were no skyscrapers; the tallest building I could see was no more than three stories high. From my vantage point, I could see several parks and two lakes; one much larger than the other. To my right, was what appeared to be a large open-air market. To my left, in the distance, was some kind of amusement park.

I didn't know where to begin. It would probably have been better to wait until Aunt Lucy could show me around, but I'd come this far, and I wasn't about to turn back. I'd need to keep a check on the time though to make sure I wasn't late getting back.

I've always loved markets, so I made my way there. The normal laws of time and distance didn't seem to apply in Candlefield. From the top of the hill, the market had looked to be at least a fifteen minute walk away, but within no more than a minute I was there.

It felt as though the whole population of Candlefield was at the market. The space between the rows of stalls was narrow, and at times I felt as though I was being carried along by the crowd. Were all these people sups? I supposed they must be because humans couldn't visit Candlefield. I found myself staring at people. Was he a werewolf? Was she a witch or perhaps a vampire? Should I be able to tell? Did they know I was a witch? They all looked—err—human, I guess. If I'd met any of them on the street in Washbridge, I wouldn't have given them a second glance.

It was only when I came upon a stall selling soft drinks that I realised how thirsty I was. There were dozens of flavours, none of which I'd ever heard of: zutaberry, quilberry and many others. The woman behind the counter must have noticed my puzzled expression because she called to me.

“Can I help you?”

I waved my credit card at her. “I don't imagine you take these?” I was so used to using plastic that I carried very little cash.

She smiled. “You won't be able to use that anywhere in Candlefield.”

“Oh. Right. How much are the drinks?” I pulled out a handful of coins from my pocket.

“Don't worry about it. Your Aunt Lucy said to put it on her account.”

“Really? How did she know I'd come to your stall?”

“There isn't much your Aunt Lucy doesn't know. What flavour would you like?”

I ran my gaze over row after row of bottles. “What would you recommend?”

“Zutaberry is my favourite. Would you like to try it?”

I nodded, even though I was a little unsure about the dark green colour. I needn't have worried. It was absolutely delicious and just what I needed to quench my thirst. Next, I bought a bag of mixed fudge from the stall opposite. If I did move to Candlefield, I'd be in danger of putting on some serious weight.

There were lots of fascinating stalls. It was a good thing that they didn’t take plastic or I'd have done some real damage to my credit card bill. As soon as I saw the silk scarf, I knew Kathy would have loved it. Peter said she had a silk scarf addiction, and he was probably right. In the end though, I didn't buy it. It would have been unfair to take advantage of Aunt Lucy's generosity, and besides I wasn't sure if I'd be able to take goods out of Candlefield. I made a mental note to ask Aunt Lucy how that worked.

The majority of the stalls were similar to those that you would find in the human world: food, clothes, toys etc. However, there were others that most definitely would not have been found outside of Candlefield. One of the most popular ones was selling books, but not just any old books—spell books. I studied the crowd of people who were gathered around the stall.

“See anything you like, Jill?” the woman behind the stall said.

I couldn't decide if I found it comforting or unnerving that everyone seemed to know my name.

“No, thanks. I'm okay.”

“Are you sure? Aunt Lucy said you could put it on her account.”

“Thanks, but I don't think I'm ready for another book just yet.”

“No problem. Maybe when you move up a level. We're here three times a week if you need anything.”

I'd lost track of time. It was only when I noticed the lights on the stalls had come on that I realised it was starting to go dark. I checked my watch. Twenty to six. Where had the time gone? How would it look if I was late for dinner? My new family would not be impressed. The square was still busy, so it took a couple of minutes just to make my way to the edge of the market. If I traced my way around the edge of the square, I should eventually find the road I came in on.

After ten minutes, I still hadn't seen any buildings I recognised. I was going to be late for sure. As I considered which way I should try next, I spotted them in the distance. Two hooded figures were making their way towards me. Followers! I had to get out of there. I could worry about finding Aunt Lucy's house later. I took the first street I came to, and ran as fast as I could. A hundred yards along the street, I spotted a recessed doorway to my right. If the Followers saw the street was deserted, hopefully they'd carry on their search of the square. My heart was pounding as I leaned with my back against the door. In the distance I could hear the sounds of the market. I waited, hardly daring to breathe. I'd give it five minutes—long enough for them to pass by the bottom of the street, and then I'd make a run for it.

My heart sank as I heard footsteps. They were only faint, as if they were walking on tip-toe. I tried the door, but it was locked. I was trapped.

The footsteps were much closer now. It would only be a matter of seconds before they found me. Hold on! How stupid was I? I didn't have to battle it out with them—I could use the 'invisible' spell. Why hadn't I thought of that back in the square? I'd have to hurry though.

“Holy cupcakes!” a female voice screamed.

“Crumbs!” another female voice yelled.

“What the?” I shouted.

I'm not sure who jumped the most. Me or the two young women who were now standing in front of me.

“Cousin Jill?” the one on the left said. “We've been looking for you everywhere. I'm Pearl.”

“And I'm Amber.”

They removed their hoods to reveal striking ginger hair. At first I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, and that I was seeing double, but then I realised they were identical twins. Under their short, grey cloaks, they wore matching blue polka dot dresses, and as far as I could tell, the only way to tell them apart was by the small beauty spot on Amber's left cheek.

I sighed with relief. “I thought you were Followers.”

“Us?” Amber giggled.

“Followers?” Pearl giggled too.

“It was the hoods,” I said, feeling more than a little foolish. “I’m sorry you had to come looking for me. I got lost.”

“Mum thought you probably had. That’s why she sent us to find you.”

“I hope she isn't angry.”

“Don't worry,” Pearl said. “I think she was half-expecting you to get lost. Candlefield is a big place.”

“So I'm beginning to realise.”

“Come on,” Amber said, turning back down the alley. “We'd better get going.”

I walked alongside the twins. They couldn't have been much taller than five two, but their bee-hive hairstyles added another six inches to their height. How could I have mistaken them for Followers? I was cracking up.

“I like your hair,” I said.

“Thank you,” they replied in unison.

“We had it done especially for the party.” Pearl beamed.

“Party?”

“Well, it's not exactly a party, but it feels like one. It's not every day we get to meet our long-lost cousin.”

“Have you always known about me then?”

“Of course. Your mum talked about you all the time. She was always showing us photos of you.”

“She had photos of me?”

“Hundreds. She spent as much time following you around as she spent in Candlefield.”

I felt a lump in my throat, and I had to fight back the tears. All those years I thought I'd been abandoned, but my mother had been with me all of the time.