Witch Is When the Bubble Burst (3 page)

Chapter 3

I was spending more and more time in Candlefield, which was home to all manner of supernaturals (or sups for short). It was feeling less like somewhere I visited, and more like a second home. Having two different families was great. In Washbridge I had Kathy, Peter and the kids while in Candlefield I had Aunt Lucy and the twins. Oh, and Grandma of course. How could I forget Grandma? It’s a serious question—how could I forget Grandma? All suggestions on a postcard, please.

“Have you forgotten that I can read your mind?” Grandma said.

“Morning, Grandma. How are you on this beautiful day?”

“My bunions are giving me gyp.”

Gross! “Isn’t there a spell which could help?”

“Why gosh. I never thought of that.”

Whoops. Me and my big mouth.

“Thank you Jill for that brilliant suggestion.”

“I just meant—”

“You realise you have another test coming up soon?”

How could I forget? “Yes, Grandma.”

“I expect you to be thoroughly prepared.”

“Yes, Grandma.”

“Good. Well, I can’t hang around here all day. I need to find Lucy, so she can treat my bunions.”

“Bye then.” Lovely to see you too, Grandma.

“I heard that.”

No sooner had Grandma disappeared than the twins came charging down the street towards me.

“You were hiding,” I said.

They both giggled.

“We saw you with Grandma, and thought we’d wait until she’d gone,” Amber said.

I did a double-take. Amber had a beauty spot on her cheek which was the only way to tell the twins apart—except today they both had a beauty spot.

“Amber?”

“Yes,” they both said, then dissolved into giggles.

“Come on you two. What’s going on? Which one of you is Amber?”

“I am,” they both replied. And giggled again.

“Sorry Jill.” Pearl wiped off her ‘beauty spot’. “We couldn’t resist it.”

“Very funny. You should have tried it on Grandma. I’m sure she would have found it hilarious.”

“We’re not that crazy. She looked in a bad mood.”

“Isn’t she always? Her bunions are giving her gyp.”

“I hope I never get bunions.” Amber screwed up her face.

“You’ve already got them,” Pearl said.

“I do not. That’s where my new sandals rubbed.”

“Sure looked like a bunion to me.”

“It’s not. Anyway, at least I don’t have crow’s feet.”

“I do not have crow’s feet.” Pearl’s hand automatically went to her face. “I don’t, do I?” She looked at me.

“Not that I can see.”

I stood between the two of them before things got out of hand. “Enough you two. You’re both beautiful. Except when you squabble. I come to Candlefield to relax—not to act as referee to you two.”

“Sorry, Jill. It’s her fault.”

“Yours more like.”

“I hate being a twin.”

“I hate being
your
twin.”

“Right. That’s enough,” I said. “I’m going back to Washbridge.”

“No, Jill. Please, don’t.”

“Don’t, Jill. Please.”

“I’ll only stay if you two pack this in.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, we’re sorry.”

“Okay. I’ll forgive you, but I need a favour in return.”

“Anything.”

“Name it.”

“It will mean a visit to Washbridge.”

“Yay!”

“We love it there.”

“There’s a guy in the same block of flats as me. He’s—well, he’s sort of—he’s kind of—. Well anyway, you’ll see for yourself. He’s got himself a gig writing a newspaper column for the local rag, and he wants a makeover before he has his photo taken for the column. I thought you two might be able to help.”

“Sure,” Pearl said. “We’d love to.”

“Is he hot?” Amber asked.

“Mr Ivers? Not really. Anyway, you shouldn’t be asking that.” I grabbed her hand, and touched her engagement ring.

“I was only asking.” Amber blushed. “You know I wouldn’t cheat on William.”

“You would if Jethro asked you out,” Pearl said.

“I—err—I.”

“Amber?” I pushed her.

“Of course I wouldn’t. Jethro is hot though.”

“Scorching,” Pearl agreed.

I’d heard tales about the legendary Jethro who looked after Aunt Lucy’s garden, but I had yet to meet him. From all accounts, I had a treat in store.

“What kind of column is your friend going to be writing?” Amber said.

“Funny you should ask. You and he should get along just fine. He’s going to review movies for the Bugle. He used to produce his own newsletter.”

“Really?” Amber looked genuinely impressed. “That’s my dream job. I can’t wait to meet him.”

It couldn’t be often that anyone said that about Mr Ivers.

“I’ll speak to him and let you know when he’d like you to come over.”

We made our way to Cuppy C, the twins’ cake shop and tea room. I kept Amber on my right and Pearl on my left. I figured there was less chance of them fighting if they had to go through me.

“What’s going on over there?” I pointed to the scaffolding and boarding on the property directly opposite Cuppy C.

“We’re not sure,” Pearl said. “That shop has been empty for some time. They started work on it last week.”

“I don’t believe it!” Amber yelled when we drew closer. “Look!”

“No!” Pearl stared in disbelief at the newly erected sign above the shop.

“Best Cakes?” I said, as the three of us came to a halt directly opposite.

“Why would they open here?”

“It isn’t fair.”

The twins were staring in disbelief at the white and blue sign.

“I shouldn’t worry.” I tried to sound cheery. “You’re already well established. Your customers won’t desert you.”

Pearl ran across the road, read the small notice which had been pinned up, and then sprinted back.

“It opens next Wednesday. Lots of opening offers it says.”

“This is war.” Amber huffed. “We’ll show them who has the ‘best’ cakes.”

“We can hold a sale on that day too.”

“Dead right we will.”

This was fighting talk. If nothing else, the new shop had brought the twins together with a common purpose.

Let the cake wars commence!

The twins were busy plotting their campaign against the new shop, so they declined the offer to accompany me when I took Barry, my Labradoodle, for a walk. Aunt Lucy and the twins had bought Barry for me, and they looked after him here in Candlefield whenever I was in Washbridge. How can I put this nicely? Barry wasn’t the brightest button in the box, but he was adorable all the same.

“I want to go for a walk.” He jumped around in circles with excitement.

“We’re going.”

“When?”

“Now. Right now.”

I began to put on my trainers.

“I want to go now.”

Oh boy. As soon as I’d clipped the lead to his collar, and opened the door, he dragged me towards his favourite place—the park.

“I love the park!”

“I know you do.”

“I love to walk.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“I love to walk in the park.”

Adorable, but not the world’s most engaging conversationalist, that’s Barry.

“Do you remember what I told you last time?” We were in the park, and he was raring to get off the lead.

“I remember.”

“And the time before that?”

“I remember.”

“What did I tell you?”

“Don’t go too far. Don’t go out of sight.”

“Good. You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay. There you go—Barry! Barry, come back!”

That dog would be the death of me. Every time we came to the park, he did the same thing. Every time he promised not to run off, and every time he did. I knew he
could
behave because he’d done it at the dog show. The problem was he seemed to pick and choose when to take any notice of me. Well, enough was enough. I’d spent the last twenty minutes chasing after him. This couldn’t go on.

Back at Cuppy C, the twins were still discussing their strategy for the cake war campaign.

“Hi, I’m back!” I shouted.

No reply. They were both too engrossed in the paperwork on the table in front of them.

“Yes, thanks. I had a nice walk,” I said.

Still nothing.

“A handsome vampire asked me to marry him, but then an even more handsome werewolf said I should run away with him instead.”

I was obviously talking to myself, so I fed Barry, and then checked the Candlefield Pages which was equivalent to the Yellow Pages. There had to be something in there.

Sure enough there were several entries under the ‘Dog Obedience’ section. I picked the one with the picture of the cutest dog, and gave them a call.

‘No Bones About It’ offered a six part group course, and they had a new one starting the following Friday, so I booked a place for Barry and me.

There wasn’t much point in hanging around in Candlefield. The twins were so preoccupied with their cake wars strategy they wouldn’t have known if I was there or not.

***

Winky was still being really weird—even Mrs V remarked upon it.

“It’s like he’s taken a ‘normal’ pill,” she said. “He even rubbed against my legs and purred when I fed him. He never does that.”

Even though I was curious as to what was going on with Winky, I had other things on my mind. There was an article in the Bugle which had caught my eye. It related to the kidnapping of Amanda Banks, daughter of Dexter Banks, the hugely successful and very rich industrialist. As soon as I read it, I realised that must have been the subject of the call which Jack Maxwell had taken when we were in the coffee shop. His whole demeanour had changed instantly which was hardly surprising given his history. The reason he had such a downer on private investigators was because one had royally screwed up during another kidnapping with the result that the hostage had been killed. Jack Maxwell had been the lead detective on the Camberley kidnapping case, and the death of the hostage had hit him hard. It was obvious from our discussions that he laid the blame for her death at the door of the P.I. who’d been acting for the family.

It would probably be better for all concerned if I stayed out of his way until this case had reached its conclusion. Hopefully this one would have a more positive outcome.

***

“Mr Ivers!” I shouted. This was a first—I was chasing after him instead of trying to avoid him. “Mr Ivers. I’m glad I caught you. I’ve had a word with my two cousins, Amber and Pearl—”

“Amber and Pearl?”

“Yes. They’re both very fashion conscious, and more abreast of the latest trends than I am.”

“Yes, I had noticed you’re a bit stuck in the sixties.”

Cheek of the man. “Anyway, they’ve agreed to come over to give you the full makeover.”

“That’s very kind. Thank you.”

“No problem. Oh, and by the way. Amber is a big movie fan. I’m sure she’d love you to talk her through some of your recent reviews.”

How could I be so cruel? Snigger.

“Really? Does she like any particular genre of film?”

“I believe she’s partial to paranormal. Werewolves in particular.”

I was still chuckling to myself when I got back to the flat. Amber would probably kill me, but I had no doubt Pearl would find it funny.

That’s when I remembered.

Tomorrow was the day I had to look after Kathy’s kids. All day! How had I allowed myself to get talked into this? I knew it was their anniversary, but even so. Surely they would have enjoyed it more as a family. What did kids like to do anyway? As far as I could make out it seemed to be: scream, shout and generally be a pain in the backside. I had to come up with something to keep them occupied, and it had to be something that kept them as far away from my flat as possible. Under no circumstances did I want those two little—err—darlings—back here.

Chapter 4

After much research, I’d decided to take the kids to Daletown Manor Park which was an hour’s drive from Washbridge. I’d never been there before, but it appeared to be a stately home which had turned its grounds into an amusement park. There was a farm with lots of smelly animals, and a children’s play area. Hopefully there would be enough there to keep the little
darlings
amused for the day. First though, I had to collect them.

“You must be Jill.” I was greeted at the door by a woman about the same age as Kathy.

“Hi, yes. And you must be—”

“Courtney’s mum.” She laughed. “Caroline actually, although hardly anyone calls me by my name.”

“Auntie Jill!” Lizzie came running out of the door, and gave me a big hug.

“Look what I’ve got!” Mikey shouted, and held aloft a toy drum.

“I hope you don’t mind the drum,” Caroline said. “Some parents aren’t very happy with Trevor’s choice of toys. Trevor’s my husband. He can be an idiot some times.”

“I’m sure Kathy and Peter will love it.” I laughed. “Well, thank you for having the kids overnight. I had hoped to have them for the whole weekend.”

“Yeah, your sister said something like that.” She grinned.

Busted. I should have realised that Kathy would have briefed her on what a terrible auntie I was.

“Where are we going, Auntie Jill?” Lizzie shouted from the back seat. “Can we go to the seaside?”

“I want to go to the movies,” Mikey yelled.

“The seaside is better than the stupid movies.”

“Seaside stinks. I want to go to the movies.”

“Movies stink more than seaside.”

This was going to be a long day. Maybe I could use the ‘sleep’ spell? No! What was I thinking? I’m such a terrible person. But then a little doze couldn’t do any harm, could it? No! Kathy would kill me.

“You went to the seaside yesterday. We’re going to Daletown Manor Park today.”

“What’s that?”

“It sounds boring.”

“Are there any movies there?”

“You’ll both like it. There’s a big house we can look around.”

“Boring!” Mikey groaned.

“I want to build sandcastles,” Lizzie said.

“There’s a farm with animals and lots of rides.” I did my best to sound enthusiastic.

“Mummy said we’d have fun. That’s not fun.”

“It will be. You’ll see.”

I cast the ‘sleep’ spell.

Mmm, lovely peace and quiet. What? So sue me, I’m a terrible person.

I reversed the spell when I saw the sign for Daletown Manor Park.

“Are we nearly there yet?” Mikey yawned.

“We’re here. You two lazybones have been asleep.”

***

“
How
much?” I must have misheard.

The young man with a runny nose and a lisp sighed. “Twenty pounds for adults. Ten pounds for under tens.”

“I want to look around, not buy the place.”

“Do you want a ticket or not?”

“Can the kids go in while I wait out here?” What? Kathy wouldn’t have minded.

“Under fourteens must be accompanied.”

“They’d be accompanying each other.”

He shook his head.

“Hurry up, Auntie Jill.” Lizzie pushed me from behind. “I need a wee-wee.”

I handed over the cash, took the tickets, and once inside, led the way to the toilets.

Daletown Manor Park had seemed much more impressive in the photographs. It had looked much bigger, more colourful, and the animals hadn’t smelled nearly as bad.

“Why are you holding your nose, Auntie Jill?” Lizzie said as we walked along the path through the farm.

“It smells.”

“That’s the pig poo.”

“And the cow poo,” Mikey added.

“And goat poo.”

“And Llama—”

“Yeah, thanks. I get it. Lots of poo. Maybe we should go and look around the house?”

“That’s boring.” Mikey groaned. “Houses are boring. I want to go on that!” He pointed to a hot air balloon which was on a square of grass to our left. The sign read:
‘Hot Air Balloon Rides – every two hours – adults: £10, children: £5’.

“It’s too dangerous.” I’d never been fond of heights.

“Are you scared?” Mikey said.

“Of course not. I just don’t think your mummy would want you to go up in a balloon. Come on; let’s take a look around the house.”

“Boring.”

Lizzie pretended to snore.

“But, I’ve already paid,” I protested.

“That ticket covers entrance to the grounds, not to the house.”

“How much is it?”

“Ten pounds for adults—”

“Let me guess. Five pounds for children?”

“Seven fifty actually.”

“Daylight robbery.”

“Do you want a ticket or not?”

“I want to go on the hot air balloon instead,” Mikey shouted.

“One adult’s, and two children’s tickets for the house, please.”

The kids had been right; the house was boring. Buckingham Palace it was not. Uninspiring paintings hung on dusty walls. Unremarkable furniture filled room after boring room.

“I’m bored,” Mikey said for the tenth time. Lizzie was too comatose to complain. This wasn’t going to play out well when Kathy asked the kids about their day. Maybe there was still time to redeem things at the fun fair. Perhaps I could use magic to win them cuddly toys like I had at the colonel’s garden party. Yeah—that’s what I would do.

The kids were so relieved to get out of the house that they ran ahead.

“Hey! Wait for me!”

They ignored me of course. I lost sight of them when they rounded the wall.

“Where’s Mikey?” I said, still trying to catch my breath.

Lizzie giggled.

“Lizzie! Where’s your brother gone?”

She giggled again, and then pointed to the grassed area.

“Where, Lizzie?”

“In the balloon.”

I spun around to see someone untying the last of the ropes which tethered the hot air balloon to the ground.

“Stop! Wait!” I yelled as I ran towards the balloon. I couldn’t see Mikey, but then the basket was rather deep. He was probably hiding so I wouldn’t see him and drag him out of there.

The last of the ropes was released, and the balloon began to rise.

“Stop! Stop!” I threw myself at the basket just as it left the ground. The pilot stared at me in disbelief as I hung on for dear life. I glanced down—that was a mistake.

“Here!” The pilot grabbed one of my arms. One of the other passengers grabbed my other arm. Between them they managed to haul me unceremoniously into the basket.

“What do you think you are playing at?” the pilot yelled at me.

I was looking all around, trying to spot Mikey. “Mikey?”

“Who’s Mikey?” the pilot asked.

“My nephew. He sneaked into the balloon. Mikey?”

There were maybe a dozen people in the basket, but l couldn’t see Mikey.

“How old is your nephew?”

“He’s seven.”

“There are no children on this trip.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

I pulled myself to my feet and looked down to the ground where Lizzie and Mikey were waving to me. Even from that distance I could see them laughing.

I hated kids. Cruel and sadistic—all of them. As the balloon continued to gain height, I could see them making their way towards the funfair. I couldn’t let them go in there by themselves.

“How long does this trip last?” I asked.

“It’s an hour long.”

“An hour? I can’t be up here for an hour!”

“You should have thought of that before you jumped on board. Oh, and by the way, you owe me ten pounds.”

I handed over the money, but my pleas to turn around fell on deaf ears. I had to get back on the ground somehow. If the kids told Kathy I’d let them go into the funfair alone, she’d skin me.

It was time for magic!

When I’d seen the ‘heavy’ spell in the book of spells, I’d chuckled to myself. What a useless spell, I’d thought. When would I ever want to make myself heavier? Lighter, maybe, but never heavier. Looks like I was wrong.

It was just like being in the hall of mirrors where some of them make you look fat. The difference was this time I actually was getting fatter. My arms, legs and whole body blew up like a—pardon the pun—balloon. Pretty soon the other passengers had to move to the edge of the basket to make way for my enormous body.

“What’s going on? What’s happening to you?” the pilot said.

“I have a rare allergy to heights. It makes my body swell.”

He looked confused—hardly surprising.

“We’ll have to go down,” he shouted. “There’s too much weight.”

“Sorry,” I said to the other passengers who were all staring at me like I was some kind of freak show exhibit.

Five minutes later, we touched down. As soon as we did, I reversed the spell, and climbed out of the basket.

The pilot stared at me in disbelief.

“The allergy soon subsides once I’m on the ground,” I said, before sprinting towards the funfair.

I caught up with the kids at the big wheel.

“Can we go on there, Auntie Jill?” Mikey said, as though nothing had happened.

“I want a word with you two.”

I grabbed them by the hand, and marched them over to a quiet corner.

“What was that all about?” I demanded.

They both giggled.

“It’s not funny.”

“I could see your knickers when you were hanging from the balloon,” Lizzie said, and they both giggled again.

“You told me Mikey was in the balloon.”

“It was just a mistake.”

More giggling. Those two were getting as bad as the twins.

“What would your mother say if I told her what you did?”

“I don’t think Mummy would be happy that you went in the balloon, and left us all by ourselves. We were scared, weren’t we Lizzie?”

“Yeah.” Lizzie pretended to shudder. “Scared.”

“I don’t think we need to tell your mummy about this.” Kathy would eat me alive.

“I’d like a toffee apple,” Mikey said.

“I’d like candy floss and a toffee apple.”

“Then we’d like to go on the big wheel.”

This was blackmail. Well, if they thought they could blackmail me, they had another—

“Or we’ll tell Mum about the balloon.”

“Toffee apples and candy floss it is then.”

Needless to say, the fun fair stalls and rides were not included in the ticket price. By the time we made our way back to the car, I was out of pocket by another fifty pounds.

***

“Mummy!” Lizzie screamed as she ran towards Kathy.

“Mummy. We went on the big wheel.”

“Did you? That sounds exciting. Where did you go?”

“To some boring house with animals, but the fun fair was good. Auntie Jill paid for us to go on everything.”

The kids disappeared into the house.

“Did she now? That’s very kind of her.” Kathy turned to me. “You look shocking.”

“Thanks. I’m beat. I don’t know how you do it every day.”

“You get used to it after a while. Where did you take them?”

“Daletown Manor Park.”

“I’ve seen the ads for that.”

“Don’t believe the hype.”

“The kids seem to have enjoyed it. I hope you didn’t spend too much.”

I managed a weak smile. I daren’t even think about how much the day had cost. “Did you and Peter have a good weekend?”

“Really good, thanks. We both said we should do it more often.”

She must have seen the expression on my face because she laughed. “Don’t worry. We’ll get someone else to take them next time.”

“They were no trouble,” I lied. “I barely knew I had them.”

Peter walked down the drive to join us.

“I hear you had a good weekend,” I said.

“We did, but not as good as you apparently. Lizzie tells me you took a trip in a hot air balloon.”

Busted!