“Did your grandmother summon you?”
“No. I was picking her brain, actually. I wanted to know if she thought anyone else could magic themselves back and forth to CASS. She said she didn’t.”
“You weren’t around there for very long.”
“She was in the middle of a pamper session.”
“Did she have that horrible cream on her face?”
“Yeah. She reckons she might start to sell it.”
“Oh dear. I hope she doesn’t decide to star in the adverts herself. No one will ever buy it if she does.”
“Harsh but true.” I took a sip of tea. “You are coming on the hen night on Saturday, aren’t you?”
“You don’t want an oldie like me there.”
“Of course I do, and besides, Mad’s mother is coming.”
“The twins wouldn’t want me there.”
“It doesn’t matter what they want. It’s my hen night and I want you to come.”
“It is rather a long time since I let my hair down and had a dance.”
“That’s settled then. Get your glad rags on and meet us at Kathy’s house at eight o’clock.”
“I think I will.”
“Will you come with the twins?”
“No, I’d rather surprise them.” She grinned. “Anyway, the main reason I called you in is that Barry said he wanted a word the next time I saw you.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yeah, he’s fine. He and his new tortoise friend seem to be getting on like a house on fire.”
“Where is Barry?”
“He’s in the back garden with the tortoise.”
“Jill!” Barry came bounding over to me.
“Don’t jump up with those muddy—” Too late.
“I’m playing with Rhymes.”
“The tortoise? I thought his name was Dimes.”
“No, it’s definitely Rhymes. He’s called that because he’s a poet. Come and see.” Barry led the way across the lawn. “Rhymes, this is Jill.”
Rhymes looked up (slowly). “Greetings. I apologise for sleeping through our last meeting.”
“That’s okay. I’m sorry I got your name wrong. Barry tells me you’re a poet.”
“Indeed I am.”
“Read Jill the poem you wrote for me,” Barry said.
“Certainly.” He cleared his little tortoise throat.
“Barry is a dog.
Not a chicken or a cow or a hog.
Barkies are his favourite food.
He never gives me one but that isn’t rude.
Because I only eat plants.
And I think Barkies are pants.”
“That’s—err—very good.”
“Thank you.”
“He’s written a poem for you too, Jill.” Barry’s tail was wagging with excitement. “Haven’t you, Rhymes?”
“Barry told me you were getting married next week, so I thought this poem could be my present to you.” He reached into his shell and pulled out a piece of paper. “There you are.”
“Thanks. That’s—err—very kind.”
“Read it, Jill,” Barry said.
“Okay.” I unfolded the paper.
“Jill is a witch.
She may not be tall, but don’t call her titch.
To a human named Jack she’s going to get wed.
He’s very handsome, at least that’s what she said.
The happy couple will be covered in confetti
Let’s hope it’s not too hot so she doesn’t get sweaty.”
Chapter 10
When I arrived back at the office, Mrs V was standing next to the wall opposite her desk.
“Jill, you’ve timed it just right. Would you hold this, please?” She handed me a tape measure, and then pulled the tape across the wall. “I want to know how wide it needs to be.”
“How wide what needs to be?”
“The tapestry of course.”
Sometimes, it felt like I’d stepped into a parallel universe.
“What tapestry?”
“I thought I’d mentioned it to you.”
“I think I would have remembered a conversation about a tapestry.”
“Since I moved my desk, I’ve been forced to stare at a blank wall all day. That’s how I came up with the idea of a tapestry. It won’t be a conventional one, obviously.”
“Obviously.”
“I thought I’d knit one. The theme will be this business, so you’ll be centre stage, of course.”
“Right. I assume you’ll be on there, too?”
“Yes, but only in the background.”
“And Winky?”
“Definitely not.” She looked appalled at the idea.
“It will certainly be a talking-point once it’s finished. How long do you think it will take you?”
“I’m not really sure. A long time.”
“The old bag lady really hates me, doesn’t she?” Winky said, as soon as I went through to my office.
“What makes you say that?”
“I heard what she said just now. How can you have a tapestry based on this place without yours truly on it?”
“Why do you care?”
“It’s the principle that matters.”
“Never mind about that. Why are you wearing a sailor’s uniform?”
“Do you like it? It’s the latest fashion: Marine Chic.”
“I can’t say I’ve noticed anyone wearing marine chic.”
“Let’s get real here. It’s not like you move in haute couture circles, do you?” He looked me up and down. “When was the last time you updated your wardrobe?”
“I don’t follow fashion. I prefer to go for the classic, timeless look.”
“Of course you do.” He laughed. “You really should allow me to give you a few fashion tips.”
“When I ask for fashion advice from a cat, I’ll know it’s time to call the men with white coats.”
Just then, my office door opened.
“Looks like they’re already here.” He laughed.
It was actually Mrs V.
“Why do you dress that cat up like that?” She stared at him in disbelief.
“I—err—”
“What’s he meant to be this time? A pilot?”
“It’s marine chic.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’d have thought you needed to watch your pennies with the wedding coming up. Does Jack know you buy clothes for the cat?”
“Did you want something, Mrs V?”
“Madeline Lane is here. Do you have time to see her?”
“Mad? Of course. Send her through, please.”
“I should warn you, Jill. I don’t think London suits her.”
“How do you mean?”
“I hate to say it, but she seems to have let herself go a little. You’ll see for yourself.”
“Hiya, Jill.” Mad gave me a hug. “I’ve missed you.”
“Likewise.” I grinned. “Mrs V thinks you’ve let yourself go.”
“Oh dear. Did I shock her?”
“She’s used to seeing you dressed as a librarian, so she wasn’t expecting this punk rocker look.”
“What do you think of it?”
“I like it. This is more like the Mad I used to know. I’m guessing you’re no longer working as a librarian.”
“No, thank goodness. I managed to wangle a cover-job in a boutique on Carnaby Street. It’s only a small place, but we sell some great gear. You should definitely check it out when you come down to London next.”
“I don’t really think I’m your target demographic. How did you manage to get that gig? It doesn’t sound like the kind of job they usually expect you to take as cover for the ghost-hunting.”
“Now I’ve proven myself as a ghost hunter, I get a bit more say in the cover job I take. It’s like I told my bosses, I stood out like a sore thumb in the library just because I was so far out of my comfort zone. In this job, I fit right in.”
“I can believe that. Anyway, I’m glad you managed to get up here in time for the hen night.”
“I wasn’t going to miss that for the world. We’ll have a ball.”
“Your mum’s looking forward to it.”
“Mum? You haven’t invited her, have you?”
“I assumed you knew.”
“I haven’t seen her yet. I came straight here from the station. I knew she was going to the wedding, but what possessed you to invite her on the hen do?”
“She pretty much invited herself.”
“Oh well, I’ll just have to steer clear of her. I don’t want her showing me up.”
“Her nail business seems to be doing really well.”
“So I hear, which reminds me, I promised to drop in on her, so I’d better get going.”
“See you on Saturday, Mad.”
***
My feet had barely touched the ground all day, whizzing back and forth between Washbridge, Candlefield and Ghost Town.
It was supposed to be my turn to make dinner, but once Jack heard about my hectic day, I was sure he’d volunteer to step into the breach.