Witch is How Things Had Changed (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 25)

“Not really. How come you’re okay?”

“Because I didn’t get drunk last night.”

“I think I might stay in bed today.” He rolled over.

“You have to do the weekly shop.”

“Can’t you do it?”

“I’m going to be at the cat show all day.”

“Can’t I just order it online?”

“There won’t be any slots left for delivery today.”

“I’ll go later.” He put the pillow over his head. “If I don’t die first.”

“Don’t be such a wuss. It’s only a hangover.”



I’d often pondered what career I might pursue if I ever hung up my P.I. boots. It struck me that I’d make a good nurse, what with my empathy, compassion and bedside manner.

***

When I arrived at Kathy’s house, Lizzie was watching for me through the front window. I was only half way up the drive when she opened the door.

“Mummy’s poorly, Auntie Jill. Can we still go to the cat show? Please!”

“What’s wrong with your mummy?”

“She’s been sick. Daddy’s not very well either.”

Peter appeared in the doorway, looking as white as a sheet.

“Morning.” He managed through dry lips.

“You look about as good as Jack.”

“He got home okay, then?”

“Eventually. Where’s Kathy?”

“In the lounge. Come on in.”



If I’d thought Jack and Peter looked bad, that was nothing compared to Kathy who was lying on the sofa, feeling very sorry for herself. “I’m sorry, Jill. I’m not going to be able to make it.”

“Can we still go, Auntie Jill?” Lizzie pleaded.

“Of course we can. Where’s Mikey?”

“My mother is keeping him at her house until tonight,” Peter said. “She brought Lizzie back because of the cat show.”

“Right, Lizzie.” I took her hand. “You go and get in the car while I say goodbye to your mummy and daddy.”

“Okay!” She rushed out of the house.

“I’m really sorry, Jill,” Kathy said.

“You owe me big time for this.”

“I know. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You sure will.”

As I left the house, Kathy was headed for the bathroom.



“What’s the matter with mummy and daddy?” Lizzie asked, as we drove into Washbridge.

“It’s probably just a bug. They’ll be better by the time we get back.”

***

As we climbed the stairs to my offices, a horrible thought struck me. What if Winky wasn’t there? If he’d spent the night at one of his many lady friends’, he could easily have forgotten about the cat show. What would I do then? Lizzie would be devastated.

I told her to wait in the outer office, just in case, but I needn’t have worried. Not only was he there, but he was looking fabulous—there was no other word for it.



“So?” Winky did a twirl. “What do you think?”

“You’ve scrubbed up quite nicely. I’ve never seen you looking so—err—”

“Handsome?”

“I was going to say, clean.”

“I called in at Molly’s last night.”

“Don’t tell me she’s yet another girlfriend?”

“No. She runs Molly’s Feline Shampoo and Grooming.”

“Well, I have to say, she’s done an excellent job.” I went over to the cupboard and took out the cat basket.

“Do I have to go in that thing?”

“They won’t let you in otherwise.”

He groaned a bit but climbed in anyway.

“Here’s Winky,” I held up the basket for Lizzie to see.

“I think he’ll win, don’t you, Auntie Jill?”

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

“Of course I’ll win,” Winky chimed in.

“He’s meowing a lot, isn’t he, Auntie Jill?” Lizzie giggled. “It’s like he knows what we’re saying.”

***

I’d assumed the cat show would be a small, local affair with about a dozen cats taking part.

Boy, was I wrong!

“Excuse me,” I said to the woman standing in front of us in the queue. “Are there always so many people at these local shows?”

“It’s not just the local show. The national finals are being held today too, didn’t you know?”

“Err—no. How come they’re being held in Washbridge?”

“They hold them at a different venue every year. It’s Washbridge’s turn.”

Only then did I notice the basket at her feet. Inside it was a fluffy ball of something.

“Is that your cat?”

“Yes, Letitia is a two-time regional champion.”

“Very nice.” I gestured to my basket. “This is Winky.”

She pulled a sour face. “What’s wrong with his eye? Does he have fleas? He looks as though he might.”

“No, he doesn’t. He had a shampoo at Molly’s only yesterday.”

The woman muttered something under her breath, and then turned away.

“What’s up with that stuck up cow?” Winky said.

“Shut up.”

“Really!” The woman said. “There was no call for that.”

“I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to—err—Winky.”

She glared at me for the longest moment, and then turned away again.

When we eventually made it to the front of the queue, a surly man held out his hand for our tickets.

“Wrong queue.”

“Sorry?”

“You’re in the wrong queue. This queue is for the national final competitors only. You need the moggies’ queue. It’s down there.”

“We’ve been queueing for twenty-minutes already. Couldn’t you just turn a blind eye and let us in?”

“Sorry. You’ll have to go down there.”



I was worried that Lizzie might start to get restless, but fortunately there was one of her school friends in the moggies’ queue.

“Oy!” Winky said. “What’s with the two competitions?”

“One is for best of breeds that have won their way to the national finals. The other one is for—err—everyone else.”

“I’m best of breed. I should be in that competition.”

“What are you, anyway? I’ve often wondered.”

“I’m a cat, of course. Jeez, you’re even slower than I thought you were.”

“No, I meant—err—never mind.”



We eventually made it to the front of the moggies’ queue where an officious man looked down his nose at me. “Take your cat through to Hall ‘A’, then you and the little girl will have to go through to the main hall.”

“Can’t we stay with our cat?”

He sighed. “I assume this is your first time at one of these shows?”

I nodded.

“The cats have to be put in cages for the judging. When the judges have finished, you’ll be called through.”

“Why can’t we stay in there while they do the judging?”

He laughed. “You’d be surprised at the lengths some people will go to in order to influence the judges. This system ensures there’s no opportunity for anything untoward.”

We took Winky through to Hall ‘A’ and found the cage with his number on it. Lizzie’s friend and her mother were just a few cages down, so while I transferred Winky from his basket, Lizzie went to see her friend’s cat.

“Hey.” Winky began to struggle in my arms. “I’m not going in that thing.”

“You have to. Those are the rules.”

“Nobody told me I’d have to be behind bars.”

“I didn’t know about it. Stop being so melodramatic. It’s only until the judges have done their rounds.”

“What do I win anyway? It had better be worth my while.”

“I’ve no idea. Who says you’re going to win?”

“Of course I’ll win. Just look at the competition. Have you ever seen an uglier bunch?”



“Hi, I’m Elsie, Florence’s Mum.” Lizzie’s friend’s mother had come over to join me.

“Hi. I’m Jill.”

“Where’s Kathy?”

“She couldn’t make it. She’s—err—feeling a bit under the weather.”

“The hen night?” She laughed.

“How did you know?”

“She mentioned it to me the other day. Wait a minute. You said your name was Jill, didn’t you? Are you her sister?”

“That’s me.”

“Wasn’t it your hen night? How come you managed to make it today?”

“I didn’t really have a choice. I’d promised Lizzie.”

“We’re going through to the main hall to get a drink and a snack. Would you and Lizzie like to join us?”

“Sure, why not?”

“What about me?” Winky shouted after us.

I ignored him.



The muffins must have had small diamonds hidden inside them. It was the only thing that could have explained the ludicrous prices they were charging.

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