Witch Is When Life Got Complicated (11 page)

Chapter 18

“I guess that’s another case I’ve solved for you,” I said, trying not to smirk.

We were in the same seats, at the same table, in the same interview room that we’d been in after the ‘Animal’ case.

“I know you think you’re helping, but you aren’t,” Maxwell said. “That lie about the CCTV could have jeopardised the whole case.”

“The case that you had already filed as
complete
?”

“If you had your suspicions, you should have brought them to me.”

I laughed. “And you’d have done what exactly?”

“They’d have been processed through the official channels.”

“Which is cop-talk for ‘do nothing’.”

“The law is not some kind of game.”

“Just as well or you’d be getting your ass handed to you.”

“This is the last time I’m going to tell you to stay out of police business. Stick to following cheating wives.”

“Husbands cheat too, you realise?”

“Whatever. Stick to what you know.”

Stick to what I know? Cheek! What I knew was that he was on the verge of getting my fist in his face. But then, assaulting a police officer in a police station—probably not a great idea.

“I think we’re done here.” Maxwell stood up.

I followed him out of the door. “If you’re struggling with any more cases and need help, you know where to find me.”

“Goodbye Ms Gooder.”

As I left the police station, I couldn’t help but wonder if Dad would have had a better relationship with Maxwell. Was I so difficult to get along with or was the man simply impossible?

Grandma was nowhere to be seen when I got back to the office. Mrs V was at her desk, but looked like death waiting in line to be warmed up.

“Good afternoon!” I said.

“Not so loud, Jill, please.” She was holding her head, and there was a packet of aspirin on the desk. “I’m feeling a little delicate.”

“Can’t say I’m too surprised. Where is Grandma?”

Mrs V shrugged. “She’d gone when I woke up.”

“When exactly
did
you wake up?”

“When that stupid cat decided to sit on my head.”

I laughed. “Sorry, that’s not funny.” Hilarious, more like. If only I’d been there to see it. “What time was that?”

“About an hour ago, I suppose.”

“How do you know Grandma anyway?”

“I didn’t until yesterday.” Mrs V was struggling to keep her eyes open. “She came to see you, and we got talking about knitting. One thing led to another and the next thing I know, I’m waking up with that stupid cat on my head.”

“Where did the two of you go?”

“It’s a blur. I do remember some bare-chested sailors, and a boomerang.”

“Boomerang?”

“Would it be okay if I went home? I think it would be best if I went to bed.”

I helped her downstairs and into a cab.

“Why did you sit on her head?” I asked Winky.

“Her boobs were too uncomfortable.”

Gross. Erase image.

“And what exactly is up with that other old gal? She’s ugly enough to make milk curdle.”

“Do you mind? That’s my grandma you’re talking about.”

“Really? Oh deary me. I have seen your future and it isn’t pretty. You’d better break out the anti-ageing cream now.”

What a cheek. I checked the mirror—not a wrinkle in sight. What had Grandma looked like at my age? Had she been a looker or had she always been—?
Ugly
seemed such a cruel word.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I took a step back from my desk.

Winky gave me a puzzled look.

I used a ruler to lift them off my chair. Men’s white boxers with a picture of a boomerang printed on the crotch. How? Who? It didn’t bear thinking about. After dumping them in the bin, I wheeled my chair through to the outer office, and swapped it for Mrs V’s.

“Looks like those two old gals are getting more action than you,” Winky said.

“Shut it or you’ll be next in the bin.”

I was still seething as I drove to Candlefield. I wasn’t sure what made me angrier, the thought of those boxers or Winky’s snide comments. I could get
action
if I wanted it. Any time at all. No problem.

This journey was more than likely going to prove to be a complete waste of time. It was supposed to be my day for a lesson with Grandma, but I had a feeling it would be cancelled, judging by the state she’d been in the night before. If only I could get the image of that boomerang out of my head.

The twins were waiting for me outside Grandma’s house.

“We’ve knocked, but she hasn’t answered,” Amber said.

“Big surprise,” I said under my breath.

“Do you think she’s okay?” Pearl sounded concerned.

“I’m sure she’s fine.” Apart from the hangover to end all hangovers. “It doesn’t look like we’re going to get a lesson today though.”

The door flew open. “And what makes you think that, young lady?” Grandma looked even worse than usual, and that was no mean feat. “Don’t just stand there. Come on in, then!” She ushered us inside.

The twins exchanged glances with one another, and then with me. They could sense Grandma wasn’t herself.

“If you’re feeling a little under the weather?” I said. “We could always postpone today’s lesson.”

The twins stared at me as though I’d lost my mind, or had some kind of death wish.

Grandma looked at me. “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t do any harm.”

Yes! Result! Let me out of here.

“After all, you’re already a competent witch, aren’t you Jill?”

“I guess so.” Where was this leading? Nowhere good.

“You guess so?” Her expression changed. “You guess?”

Oh no. What had I said?

“Tell me, Jill. How competent were you when you fell head over broomstick during the ‘levitation’ spell?”

How did she know about that? Before I could ask, she raised her hand and snapped her fingers. There, above our heads was some kind of thought-bubble. I watched in horror as I saw an image of myself levitating above the wall at Fiona Digby’s, and then dropping like a brick on the other side. The twins collapsed in a fit of giggles—but not for long.

“And what are you two laughing at?” Grandma turned her gaze on them.

“Nothing.”

“Sorry, Grandma.”

“It seems to me,” Grandma said, with no trace of a hangover. “All three of you have a lot to learn. Wouldn’t you agree?”

We all said, “Yes.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear that.”

“Yes, Grandma.”

By way of a change, Grandma decided we should go to the Spell-Range. I’d no idea what that was, but was too afraid to ask her, so I interrogated the twins en-route. It turned out that all sups had their own private areas within Candlefield. An area where they could exercise, practise and generally be themselves. There were separate areas for witches and wizards, werewolves, vampires and every other type of sup. It was strictly forbidden for any sup to enter a Range other than their own.

“Do you go to the Spell-Range often?” I asked the twins.

“Not really. It’s difficult to find time now we have the shop,” Pearl said.

Grandma huffed. “Lame excuse. The two of you had to be dragged here even before you opened Cuppy Tea.”

“Cuppy C,” Amber corrected meekly.

“Whatever.”

“Jill.” Pearl tapped me on the shoulder. “Mum says you should join us all for dinner afterwards.”

“Okay, that’ll be nice.”

“I doubt that,” Grandma said. “Not if Lucy is cooking.”

“Will you be coming too, Grandma?” Amber asked, with her fingers crossed behind her back.

“Unfortunately yes,” Grandma replied. “Your mother insisted. Said she had some kind of important announcement, but wouldn’t say what. Do you two have any idea what it might be?”

The twins shook their heads.

“She’s probably bought a new pair of glasses or changed her brand of washing powder.” Grandma sighed. “You know how excited she gets about that type of stuff.”

“The beauty of Spell-Range,” Grandma said, “is that you have the freedom to practise more adventurous spells here.”

We were inside a walled area, which was at least one-quarter mile square. We’d entered through huge metal gates, which were patrolled by guards. Unlike the rest of Candlefield, where everyone mixed together, the Ranges were restricted to a single class of sup.

There were witches and wizards of all ages—from youngsters not much older than Kathy’s kids, to men and women of Grandma’s generation. The area was so large that there was plenty of room for each group to do their own thing without disturbing the others. I looked around and recognised some of the spells that were being practised. To my right, a girl, no more than ten years of age, was lifting an anvil above her head—the ‘power’ spell, no doubt. A boy in his teens was racing at incredible speed around the far corner of the square—the ‘faster’ spell.

“Are you with us, Jill?” Grandma’s voice snapped me back to earth.

“Sorry. I was just watching—”

“Never mind what anyone else is doing. Focus on your own work!”

“Sorry.”

“Today we’re going to practise the ‘grow’ spell.”

The twins groaned in unison.

“Do you have a problem with that?” Grandma turned on them.

“No, sorry. It’s just that—” Pearl began, but then thought better of it.

“Carry on. Spit it out. We all want to hear.”

“Yes, spit it out, Pearl.” Amber was enjoying her sister’s obvious discomfort.

Pearl gave Amber a look, and then turned back to Grandma. “It’s just that the ‘grow’ spell is level one and we’ve been on level two for some time.”

“So, you think you’re too good to practise?”

“No. No, that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean, then?”

“Nothing, sorry.”

“And you can take that smirk off your face, Amber.”

“Sorry.”

The ‘grow’ spell was one I’d memorised, but not yet had a chance to try out. The theory was that you cast the spell on a plant, bush or sapling to make it grow. That explained why Grandma had walked us over to a section of the Range where there were rows and rows of saplings which must have been planted specifically for that purpose. Behind the saplings were rows of more mature trees of varying sizes, which had presumably been ‘grown’ by other witches practising the same spell.

Grandma pointed to the saplings. “Let’s see what you can do. Remember, the more you focus, the taller the tree will grow.” She turned to Pearl. “Seeing as you’re so confident, you can go first.”

Pearl looked anything but confident when she stepped forward. She raised her hand, closed her eyes and began to cast the spell. Amber, Grandma and me watched as the sapling began to grow. Progress was slow, and by the time Pearl opened her eyes—clearly exhausted—the plant had grown from three feet to approximately seven feet tall. I began to clap, but stopped when Grandma gave me the evil eye.

Amber went next. She seemed less nervous, but much to Pearl’s delight could only manage to grow the sapling to six feet in height. Then it was my turn. I was terrified I might forget the spell, and fail to make the sapling grow at all. I closed my eyes, and tried to focus all of my energy.

I hadn’t realised how much effort it would take. By the time I opened my eyes, I was completely exhausted. The tree in front of me had to be over twenty feet tall. Amber and Pearl looked at me with wide eyes. Even Grandma seemed surprised, but just said, “Not bad.”

“That was brilliant!” Amber whispered.

“Yours is one of the tallest.” Pearl pointed to the other trees. She was right; there were only a few others which were taller than mine.

“Amber, Pearl. You two stay here and practise the ‘power’ spell,” Grandma said. “Jill, you come with me.”

I glanced at the twins who shrugged. They obviously had no more idea of what was going on than I did.

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, as I tried to keep up with Grandma.

“No. I just want you to try something a little bit different.”

We marched across the Range to the far wall. When I glanced back, I could see Amber and Pearl were taking it in turns to hold an anvil above their heads.

“You won’t have seen this spell before,” Grandma said, passing me a piece of parchment. “You have thirty seconds to memorise it.”

I looked for the spell’s name or description, but the parchment contained only a list of images. “What is it?”

“Twenty five seconds left.” She was holding her pocket watch.

There were three times as many images than I was accustomed to having to memorise. Although I’d got much better at committing spells to memory, I would never be able to remember all those in such a short time.