All Was Revealed (7 page)

Phew! I’d got away with it—just!

We’d been in there for about an hour. The conversation was flowing freely; the fish were a delight. In fact, everything was going swimmingly.

What? Come on, you must have seen that one coming.

“Hello there, Jack. How’s it going?” A thick-set man, with more teeth than was healthy, approached us. “And who’s this delightful young lady?”

“Hi, Stuart. This is Jill Gooder.”

“Welcome to Bar Fish, Jill. I’m Stuart Steele. I own this place.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

“I assume you’ve taken advantage of the comp tickets I dropped off at the station, Jack?”

Comp tickets? So
that’s
why he’d wanted to go to Bar Fish; he’d got tickets for free drinks. The cheapskate.

“What do you do, Jill? Are you a police officer too?”

“No. I’m a private investigator.”

“Really? How fascinating. Well look, I’m sure the two of you would rather be alone, so I’ll leave you to it.”

After he’d gone, I turned to Jack. “Comp tickets? Free drinks?”

“Didn’t I mention that?”

“You know you didn’t.” I laughed. “No wonder you were so keen to go out tonight. I didn’t realise you were such a cheapskate.”

“Busted. Apparently Stuart’s hoping to franchise this concept. If this place takes off, he plans to open similar bars around the country.”

“Based on what I’ve seen so far I’d say he’s in with a good chance. It’s a novel idea, and people certainly seem to like it.”

By nine-thirty, the place was becoming crowded, and we were struggling to hear ourselves think. But then, all of a sudden, the noise was pierced by a loud scream. All eyes turned to a woman, who was pointing at the floor.

“Stay here,” Jack said.

I ignored him, and followed as he pushed his way through the crowd. When we reached the woman, she was hysterical, and was still pointing to the floor. Floating in the tank under the floor, was a young woman’s body; her dead eyes stared up through the glass. It was a face I recognised. A face I’d seen on the front page of The Bugle. It was Starr Fish—the reality TV celebrity.

Jack flashed his warrant card, made a call to the station, and then addressed the crowd.

“Stand back, please. I’m Detective Maxwell. No one leaves until my colleagues arrive, and they’ve had a chance to take your names and addresses.”

Another uneventful date drew to a close
.

Chapter 7

My phone rang; it was Myrtle.

“Jill, look, I’m sorry about this, but the murder mystery players are being rather awkward. I’d hoped to arrange for us to interview them all on the same day, but it seems that’s not going to be possible. We’re going to have to spread it over a few days. I can’t really expect you to travel back and forth from Washbridge, so I’ll understand if you can’t make it, but I thought I should at least let you know what was happening.”

“I’d still like to be involved, Myrtle, if that’s okay with you.”

“Are you sure? It’s such a long way to come.”

“I’m absolutely positive.”

It wasn’t as though I had any work of a meaningful nature. I could hardly class the thimbles theft as a major case. And besides, that was in Candlefield, so time would stand still in Washbridge while I was over there.

“Very well, dear. I’ve set up the first interview with Florence Long tomorrow at three-fifteen. Can you make it then?”

“I’ll be there. Should I meet you at your place?”

“Yes, we’ll go over to her house from there.”

***

My relationship with Jack had been weighing heavy on my mind, so I’d called Love Spell and spoken to Hilary. She’d said I could drop by their Washbridge office, to have a chat.

It was a while since I’d been there; Nathaniel was still working on reception. He greeted me with a welcoming smile, and asked me to take a seat. Moments later, Hilary popped her head out of her office, and called me through.

“Thanks for seeing me at such short notice, Hilary.”

“It’s the least I can do. We owe you a lot, Jill. If it hadn’t been for your help, we probably wouldn’t have a business right now. What exactly is it I can help you with? Surely, you’re not looking for a partner? I’d heard on the grapevine that you’re dating that sexy policeman.”

“Yes, Jack and I are seeing each other, and no, I’m not looking for a date.”

“How can I help, then?”

“It’s about my relationship with Jack. I knew going in that sups were not allowed to reveal themselves to humans, but I never really appreciated what that meant in practice. Well, I guess I did to a certain extent because I’ve had to hide it from my sister and her husband, and from Mrs V, who I work with. But, being in a relationship with someone makes it way more difficult. How are you supposed to live with someone when you’re not able to tell that person exactly who you are?”

“Are you and Jack living together now?”

“No, but we certainly see a lot more of one another than we used to. Living together will probably be the next step, but that scares me. It doesn’t feel right to enter into a relationship with someone knowing full well that you’ll always have to keep secrets from them. It struck me that you must come across this dilemma all the time. Presumably every witch who goes through your books has to face this problem.”

“You’re right, they do. And I wish I could tell you that there’s an easy solution, but I’d be lying. It’s difficult for all of our witches. Some of them handle it better than others. Some can keep that part of their life secret from their partner, and not feel any guilt. Others struggle. Many of them have sat exactly where you’re sitting right now, and said much the same as you’ve just said.”

“Have you been able to help them?”

“I’m not sure that I have, to be honest. The best situation is one where a witch has no family in Candlefield because then there’s less to hide. Where a witch does have family, it’s much more difficult because, inevitably, she’ll want to keep in touch with them. Juggling both ‘lives’ is not easy.”

“Surely things must go wrong occasionally? There must be instances where a witch has done or said something that’s given her away?”

“It does happen. There’s no question about that.”

“What happens in such instances?”

“It all depends. If the transgression comes to the attention of the powers-that-be in Candlefield, then it’s quite likely they’ll send a Rogue Retriever to bring back the witch. That would basically be the end of the relationship.”

“That’s terrible. What happens to the husband in such cases?”

“That’s the real tragedy. They’ll have no idea where their wife went. They’ll most likely report her as missing to the police, and may even try to convince them that she’s a witch. If they do that, the police are likely to write the husband off as a nutter. It’s a terrible state of affairs all around.”

“You said
if
the transgression gets back to the powers-that-be. Does that mean sometimes it doesn’t?”

“I can’t be sure. I suspect that there are a few cases where the husband finds out his wife is a witch, but where they’re able to keep a lid on it. That can only happen if their relationship is strong enough to withstand such a shock, and if the husband is capable of keeping their secret. I’d be very surprised if there aren’t at least a few couples who fall into that category, but that’s pure speculation.”

Although Hilary hadn’t been able to offer me a ‘magic pill’ to resolve my dilemma, she had at least given me something to think about. It had never occurred to me that there might be couples living happily in Washbridge where the husband knew his wife was a witch.

***

I was on my way back to the office, and had just walked into the building when I bumped into Armi.

“Hello there, Jill. You’re looking exceptionally beautiful today, I must say. I’ve just been chatting with Annabel. She’s in jolly good form, and that blue hair of hers is absolutely delightful, don’t you think?”

“Err—yes—it’s very nice.”

The quiet, little,
wouldn’t say boo to a goose
man had been transformed into
Mr Self-Confidence
. It appeared my spell had done the trick.

“I can’t stop, Jill. I have a couple of errands to run. I’ll catch up with you and Annabel later. Too-da-loo.”

“Too-da-loo, Armi.”

My goodness.

Mrs V looked in a state of shock. “Did you see him, Jill?”

“Armi? Yes.”

“Whatever happened to him? He’s like a different man. He came in here, complemented me on my hair, and then planted a huge kiss on my lips.” She half blushed/half smiled.

“He’s a bit of a dark horse, isn’t he? Do you like the new Armi?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t had time to think about it yet. I’m still in shock.”

“Well, at least now he’ll be able to stand up to Gordon.”

“I suppose so. That’s a good thing, at least.”

When I walked into my office, it was like deja vu. The small dining table was back, and had been set for a meal. Winky was busy polishing the cutlery.

“Are you entertaining Katrina again?”

“Definitely not. I couldn’t put up with that a second time. I’m still having nightmares about the noises she made when she ate.”

“What’s this then? Are you expecting another candidate from Purrfect Match?”

“If you must know, Bella is coming over tonight.”

“She is?”

“I’ve given the matter serious consideration, and I’ve come to the conclusion that Socks was to blame. Bella should have known better, but my brother can be very persuasive. He’s always been a bit of a ladies’ man. I’ve decided to give her the benefit of the doubt, and another chance.”

“That’s very magnanimous of you.”

“I know. I’m a fool to myself sometimes.”

“I’m really pleased. You and Bella make such a lovely couple.”

“Don’t get carried away, Jill. It’s only dinner. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot to prepare.”

I could have objected to my office being taken over yet again, but I was so pleased that Winky and Bella were back together, I decided to go home early, and leave him to his preparations.

Back at my flat, I’d been waylaid by Mr Ivers.

“I’m glad I’ve bumped into you, Jill.”

That makes one of us.

“You and I are the only people in this building who aren’t terminally boring,” he said.

Huh?

“Take that Betty Longbottom, for example. All she’s interested in, is crustaceans and the likes. It’s enough to drive you insane.”

“Betty’s okay.”

Why was I sticking up for the tax inspecting, jelly fish wielding little minx?

“And then there’s Luther Stone. Since he’s taken up with Betty, all he wants to talk about is sea creatures. It’s like she’s got him under a spell. I sometimes wonder if she’s a witch.”

“You might have something there.”

“The two of them cornered me earlier today.” Mr Ivers shook his head. “I had stereo crustaceans coming at me. It was horrible.”

“You’re right. There’s nothing worse than being trapped by someone intent on boring you to death.”

“Precisely. Anyway, you’ll be pleased to hear that I’ve just finished this month’s newsletter.”

Oh irony, thou art a cruel neighbour.

He was still talking—apparently. “I’m waiting for my new toner cartridge to arrive, so I can print them off. But, don’t worry. I’ll get the next issue to you PDQ.”

“PDQ? Great. IDNC.” I. Do. Not. Care.

I’d made myself macaroni and cheese. It was all I could be bothered with, but it hit the mark. I was enjoying the last few mouthfuls when the room became a little chilly, and my mother appeared.

“Is that
all
you’re having to eat, Jill?”

“It’s what I fancied.”

“It’s hardly a meal, is it? With all the stresses and strains your job entails, you need more than macaroni and cheese.”

“Have you come here just to nag me?”

“That’s a mother’s job.”

“You didn’t nag me for the first twenty odd years of my life.”

“No, but I wanted to when I saw some of the things you got up to.”

“Was there another reason for your visit today? Other than to criticise my diet?”

“Actually, I wanted to tell you how pleased I am that you and Jack are seeing more of one another.”

“And you know that, how?”

“A mother knows these things.”

“In other words, you’ve been following us.”

“Of course not.”

“So you weren’t at The Old Trout the other day?”

She laughed. “You made a bit of a fool of yourself at that murder mystery—whoops—err—I mean—no, I wasn’t there.”

“Mum, what have I told you? I don’t want you looking over my shoulder all the time.”

“No. Obviously, but I do think that this man is a good catch, so don’t go doing anything stupid, again.”

“What do you mean
again
?”

“You have a bad habit of opening your mouth before your brain has engaged.”

“Thanks! “

“Sorry. I’ll keep my nose out.”

“That’s the most sensible thing you’ve said since you got here.”

“Okay, I’ll go. I know when I’m not wanted.”

“Wait! There is something I’d like to ask you.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to stick my nose in.”

“Touché. I’ve been giving a lot of thought to how a relationship between a witch and a human might work. Relationships should be based on trust and honesty, but if I was to be with Jack, I wouldn’t be able to tell him that I’m a witch. Effectively, I’d be lying to him.”

“That’s just how it is, unless you take another sup as a partner.”

“Someone suggested that there are relationships between witches and humans where the husband
does
know his wife is a witch, but because he’s able to keep that a secret, they’re able to carry on without any interference from Candlefield.”

“Who’s this
someone
who’s been advising you?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“I’d call that very bad advice. Such a relationship would be fraught with danger. A wrong word at the wrong time, and the next thing you know, the Rogue Retrievers would be called into action, and that would be the end of the marriage.”

“I guess you’re right. Okay, thanks.”

Not long after my mother had disappeared, my phone rang. I didn’t recognise the man’s voice.

“Is that Jill Gooder?”

“Speaking.”

“It’s Stuart Steele. We met in Bar Fish.”

“Yes, Stuart. I’m sorry about what happened yesterday.”

“Me too. It was a terrible thing. That’s why I’m calling, actually. I wondered whether you’d be prepared to come and see me. I need someone to find out exactly what happened.”

“Surely the police are doing that?”

“Yes, but based on past experience, I’m not convinced that things will move as quickly as I need them to. If this isn’t cleared up soon, it could be very bad for my plans to franchise the business. Would you at least be prepared to come to my house to talk to me?”