Witch Is When Life Got Complicated Read Online Free PDF Page A

goodness!
     
    That’s when I saw it. Oh no. No, no no!
    The trail of wool stretched back to the corner of the room where I’d first answered the call. The scarf must have caught on a nail or something, and had unravelled. It was now at least two feet below the regulation size for its class. I was a dead woman walking. There was no shortage of knitting needles at this event, and Mrs V would know just how to use them to inflict the maximum amount of pain. I glanced over to the toilets—there was no sign of her—yet.
    I had to stay calm. If I panicked, it would be game over. My mind went blank. Come on! Concentrate! I cast the spell as quickly as I could without once taking my gaze from the toilets. After I’d finished, I said a silent prayer. Had I remembered it correctly? I hardly dared look down at the scarf.
    Phew!
    “Jill! Come on! We need to hurry.” Mrs V was striding across the room.
    I held up the scarf—the ‘take it back’ spell had worked a treat.
     
    “And the winner of the scarf, seven feet in length, category is—.” The MC took the obligatory drawn-out pause.
    The tension was unbearable. Mrs V was squeezing my hand so tightly my fingers had turned white.
    “Mrs Annabel Versailles.”
    “Oh well.” I smiled. “Never mind. You made it to the finals.”
    Mrs V threw her arms around me. “I won!”
    Annabel Versailles? Oh yeah—it was so long since I’d heard anyone call Mrs V by her full name. “You won! Yay!”
     
    The block of flats where the man who’d found Winky lived, turned out to be three miles from my office. I was amazed Winky had had enough stamina to wander so far. The smell in the stairway turned my stomach. I knocked on the door and waited. No reply. I tried again.
    “What?” a voice from inside called.
    “I’ve come about the cat.”
    “Wait ‘til I get dressed.”
    Gladly.
    Two minutes later, he opened the door.
    “Did you bring the reward?”
    “Where is the cat?”
    “Inside. What about the reward? Plus a tenner for keeping him overnight?”
    I pulled out six ten pound notes. “I want to see the cat.”
    The room was filthy—even the bacteria had moved out.
    “That’s not him!”
    “Course it is. Look! One eye.”
    “It’s the wrong eye. Look at the poster.”
    “That’s because it’s a photo. Things are always back to front in photos.”
    “That’s mirrors.”
    “What is?”
    “Mirrors reverse an image. Not photographs.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Positive. Anyway, I know my own cat, and that is definitely not Winky.”
    “He’s brown.”
    “So is my handbag, but that’s not Winky either.”
    “Don’t you want him then?”
    “No, I don’t want him.”
    “Do you know anyone who might?”
    “No.”
    All of this time, the cat had rested impassively in the man’s arms.
    “I suppose I’d better get shut of him then?” he said.
    “Get shut?”
    “Guess so.”
    “Take him to the cat re-homing centre you mean?”
    “Nah. Waste of time. Who’d want a one-eyed cat?”
    Yeah, who’d be that stupid? “What are you going to do with him?”
    “Probably best to put him out of his misery.”
    “Who says he’s miserable?”
    “Does he look happy to you?”
    “You can’t have him put down because he looks a bit unhappy. The vet won’t do it.”
    “No need to involve the vet.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Too expensive. A hammer will do the job.”
    “No! You can’t do that.”
    “Why not?”
    “I’ll take him.” What was I saying? Would I ever learn?
    “What will you give me for him?”
    Unbelievable. “A minute ago, you were going to kill him with a hammer.”
    “That was before I knew you wanted him.”
    “I’ll give you a fiver.”
    “I want the full reward. Fifty pounds.”
    “Twenty and that’s my final offer.”
    “Done!”
    I had been—well and truly.
     
    Mrs V was looking a little the worse for wear. When I’d left her at the hotel the previous evening, she’d been on her fifth glass of elderflower