Witch Is When Life Got Complicated (16 page)

“I guess so.”

“Off you go then!”

I focussed like I’d never done before. And then I focussed a little more. As soon as the spell was cast, I felt as though I’d been drawn up into a vortex. Would I end up back in Washbridge, and more importantly, would my head still be fixed to my shoulders?

Chapter 23

I landed on my backside with an almighty thud. At least I was still in one piece. It took me a few seconds to realise where I was. It was the smelly, old flat where Daze and I had captured the Rogues. I was back in the exact same spot where I’d left Washbridge.

It occurred to me that I was only a few streets away from Mikey’s school. I hated the idea that some kid was making my little nephew’s life a misery—maybe I could do something about it. The ‘invisible’ spell got me inside the school, and it didn’t take long to find Mikey’s classroom—he was always telling me he was in class 3K. Mikey was sitting in the second row from the front. The teacher asked a question and Mikey’s hand shot up. I scanned the room, trying to figure out who the bully might be.

I had only two minutes of invisibility left. At the back of the classroom was a screen, behind which was a small reading area with bookcases and chairs. I slipped behind the screen and crouched down. The kids were all looking towards the front of the room, so I just had to avoid being spotted by the teacher. She was getting the children to contribute ideas for a fairy tale. A girl with pigtails and freckles suggested the story should include a wicked witch. Grandma? The thought never crossed my mind.

Whenever I heard the sound of chalk on the blackboard, I knew the teacher must be facing the other way, so I popped my head out. Every time the teacher’s back was turned, the young boy seated directly behind Mikey, leaned forward and pushed him in the back. Once, Mikey turned around and I wondered if he might take Peter’s advice and thump the kid. He didn’t, and I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

The ‘back off’ spell was perfect for this situation. Still crouched behind the screen, I focussed on Mikey and the bully, and cast the spell while the teacher was writing on the blackboard. I finished just as he turned to face the kids.

“Aaaarghh!”

“What’s wrong, Simon?” the teacher asked.

“I saw a monster,” a scared little voice said.

“There are no such things as monsters,” the teacher reassured the boy.

“But I saw it!”

“Can you see it now?”

“No.”

“Okay then. Let’s carry on with our story,” the teacher said.

Mission accomplished, I waited until the lesson had ended, cast the ‘invisible’ spell again, and made my way out of the school. Mikey shouldn’t have any more problems. The spell I’d cast would cause the bully to see a monster every time he pushed Mikey. He’d soon learn to keep his hands to himself.

I hadn't yet come to terms with the whole ‘time stands still’ thing, which meant any time I spent in Candlefield did not affect time in the human world. If I left Washbridge on a Thursday at eight in the morning, spent two days in Candlefield, and then came back to Washbridge, it would still be eight o’clock on Thursday morning. That’s why, back at my flat in Washbridge, even though it was almost midnight, I wasn’t remotely tired. Hardly surprising considering I’d slept in Candlefield. It was like jet lag, but way more confusing.

Having failed to get to sleep, I decided to work my way through the few remaining spells in level one that I had yet to master. When I’d first discovered I was a witch, I’d found the process of learning spells difficult, but now it seemed to come much more easily to me. The fact that Grandma had trusted me enough to allow me to attempt a level five spell had really boosted my confidence. I couldn’t wait to move on to the next level.

When I arrived at the office the next morning, Mrs V wasn’t at her desk which was most unusual. Maybe she and Grandma had been on another all-nighter. By eleven o’clock, she was still a no-show, and I was beginning to get worried. I tried calling her, but she didn’t pick up. I had a bad feeling about this.

I was trying to extract Winky from the window blinds—that cat never learned—when the phone rang. It must be Mrs V.

“Wait there,” I said to Winky.

“Like I have a choice.”

It was the hospital. Mrs V had asked the nurse to contact me. Apparently she’d had a funny turn in the night and been taken by ambulance to St Meads. The nurse told me that Mrs V was feeling much better this morning, but that they’d be keeping her in for a couple of days to be on the safe side. I could visit at any time, and would I bring her a pair of size nine needles and five balls of crimson dream wool which I’d find in the linen basket. I’d no sooner hung up, than it rang again.

“Don’t mind me,” shouted Winky. “I’ll just hang on here.”

“It’s your own fault!”

“What?” Kathy said.

“Not you. I was talking to the cat.”

“Have you still got that ugly one-eyed thing?”

“’I’m afraid so. Hey, why don’t you adopt him for the kids?”

“Are you joking? That monster would give them nightmares.”

“My claws are falling out!” Winky yelled.

“Did you call for something in particular? Only, the cat’s stuck in the blind and Mrs V is in hospital.”

“Is she okay?”

“Sounds like it. I’m going over there as soon as I get off the phone.”

“What about me?” Winky screamed.

“As soon as I get off the phone,
and
free the cat.”

“I only rang to remind you about your date with Jack.”

“Thanks. Like I could forget.”

“Do you need someone to cover for Mrs V while she’s in hospital?”

“You?”

“Not me. I’ve got real work to do. One of my friends is a PA. She’s between jobs. She might be able to step in for a few days.”

“Okay. Tell her to give me a call. Gotta dash.”

Mrs V was sitting up in bed, watching the arts and crafts station on TV. Apart from being a little pale, she looked pretty much herself.

“Did you bring my knitting?”

“Here it is.” I passed her the carrier bag. “Size nine needles and five balls of ‘crimson dream’.”

“You’re a life saver. I was going crazy. I’ve promised the nice doctor that I’ll knit him a scarf in his favourite colour.”

“What happened to you?”

“It’s my own fault. I over did the reps.”

“Reps?”

“Repetitions. I usually do five dead lifts, but I went for six.”

“Dead lift? Isn’t that weight lifting?”

“Yes dear.”

“What were you doing weight lifting?”

“I thought I’d told you about it.”

“That you did weight lifting? No. I'm pretty sure I’d have remembered that.”

“I have my own gym set up in the back bedroom.”

“I suppose it makes a change from knitting.”

Mrs V wanted to get back to work, but the doctors had insisted she take at least a week off.

“How will you manage without me?” she asked.

“Don’t worry. Kathy said she knows someone who can step in.”

I stayed with Mrs V for just over an hour. In the end, she told me to leave because she wanted to make a start on the scarf. On the way back to the office, I called in at my favourite diner for a mixed grill. I’d been trying to block out all thoughts of the Maxwell date, but it wasn’t easy because it was only a couple of days away now. It might just turn out to be the longest and most painful night of my entire life. I’d rather spend a night as Winky’s scratching board.

For a moment, I thought I’d walked into the wrong office. The desk had been moved to the far wall. The linen basket and trophy were nowhere to be seen.

“You must be Jill.” The young woman with ‘don’t mess with me’ glasses, and a tight bun, walked over to greet me.

“Hi, and you are?”

“Sue Zann.”

“Suzanne, nice to meet you.”

“Not Suzanne. Sue Zann.”

“Suzanne?”

“No. My first name is Sue, and my last name is Zann. Sue Zann.”

“Sue Zann. Right. I suppose you get that a lot. The whole Sue Zann, Suzanne thing.”

“Not really.”

Just me then. “Did my sister send you?”

“Yes. Kathy said you had a temporary crisis and asked me to help out.”

“Thank you. It’s much appreciated. Just one thing—well two actually.”

“Yes?”

“Where are the linen basket and the trophy?”

“Did you know the basket was full of wool?”

“Yeah. You haven’t thrown it away have you?” How would I break it to Mrs V? It would kill her.

“Of course not. It’s in the large cupboard on the landing. The trophy is in there too.”

Phew. Crisis averted.

“Okay, thanks. I’ll leave you to it then.”

“One more thing,” Sue said. “A cat had got into your office. An ugly, manky old thing with only one eye.”

Ugly? Manky?

“I called the cat re-homing centre and had them collect it.”

I turned tail and rushed back out the door.

“I’m looking for a cat,” I said, still trying to catch my breath.

The woman behind the counter sighed. “Just as well because we’re right out of llamas.”

A smart ass. Just what I needed.

“Your people collected him from my office earlier today.”

She took out a form—there were a lot of boxes on it.

“Name?”

“Winky.”

“
Your
name?”

“Sorry. Jill Gooder.”

“Name of cat?”

“Winky.”

“Winky?”

“Yes.”

“Description?”

“Of me or the cat?”

She gave me a stony look.

“He has one eye.”

“Anything else?”

“How many one-eyed cats do you have?”

“And you say he was collected from your office this afternoon. What was he doing there?”

“He lives there.”

“In your office?”

“Yes.”

“So why ask us to collect him if you still want him?”

“I didn’t, it was the temp, Sue Zann.”

“Suzanne?”

“No, Sue Zann—never mind. It was a misunderstanding.”

“There’ll be a charge.”

“Of course.”

“Then there’s the collection fee.”

“Right.”

“And the accommodation fee.”

“Accommodation? He can’t have been here for more than a couple of hours.”

“Three day minimum.”

“Of course.”

“And the administration fee.”

“What’s that for?”

“Filling out this form.”

“They threw my eye patch away,” Winky said, as I carried him back to the car.

“It didn’t suit you anyway.”

“Have you got rid of her?”

“Who?”

“That psycho who got me locked up.”

“That’s Sue Zann. She’s going to temp for me while Mrs V is off.”

“I don’t think so. Have you seen that weird ball of hair on top of her head?”

“That’s a bun.”

“What is?”

“Her hair is in a bun.”

“I don’t care. Get rid of her and bring the old bag back.”

“The old bag—err, I mean Mrs V is in hospital. She’s going to be off for at least a week. Sue Zann will be standing in until she’s well enough to come back.”

“Well that’s just peachy. You’d better keep her away from me then or I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

Sue Zann had already clocked off and gone home by the time Winky and I arrived back at the office. I placated Winky with a bowl of food and a promise to buy him a red eye patch. I left the desk where it was, but brought the linen basket and trophy back into my office. If someone stole those it would kill Mrs V. And then, her ghost would most probably haunt me.

Before I left, I wrote a note for Sue Zann explaining that Winky was my cat. I considered asking her to feed him in the morning, but decided that was probably over and above a PA’s normal duties—to say nothing of dangerous. Winky wasn’t one to forgive and forget.

I gave myself a night off from study. I was fairly confident that I’d now mastered all level one spells—Grandma would probably disagree. It was a night for custard creams and ginger beer. Oh, yeah—walking on the wild side.

Every time I walked into the wardrobe, I felt a twinge of sadness. My poor beanies—gone forever. All except the squid of course.

“Sorry little guy,” I gave him a cuddle. I felt bad about having to lock him away in the cupboard, but if I left him out on display, Kathy and Lizzie would stake their claim. If only that mirror wasn’t there, I could cast a spell to hide him.

And that’s when it struck me.