Witch Is When Stuff Got Serious (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 11) by Adele Abbott Page B

before?”
    To my amazement and delight, every one of them raised a hand.
    One of the women at the front, a witch, stepped forward.
    “My name’s Anthea Close.”
    “Hi, Anthea.”
    “Hi. A lot of women play BoundBall. Okay, it’s only a fraction of the number of men who play, but we’re just as passionate about it as they are. We have our own league, although you’d never know it because it gets no coverage in the press. But then, what would you expect? All the sports reporters are men.”
    Everyone nodded; a few laughed.
    “We’ve wanted an opportunity like this for years,” she continued. “Something that would raise the profile of the women’s game, but the men would never entertain the idea of playing against a women’s team.”
    “Well, you’re going to get your chance now. I assume you know how this all came about?”
    “It’s for SupAid, isn’t it?”
    “Yes, and we mustn’t forget that’s the main reason we’re doing this. It’s a great cause, but at the moment they’re struggling for donations. This tournament should help them in a big way.” I hesitated. “But we’re also in it to win it!”
    Everyone cheered.
    “There is just one thing we need to clear up, Jill,” Anthea said.
    “What’s that?”
    “I don’t really know how to say this, but we don’t think you should play in the team.”
    That was music to my ears, but I waited for her to continue.
    “As far as we’re aware, you’ve never played BoundBall.”
    “You’re right. I haven’t. That’s absolutely fine by me. I was prepared to play if we couldn’t make the numbers, but I’d much rather field a team of experienced players. And if everyone here agrees, why don’t you be the captain?”
    Everyone seemed to like that idea.
    “I’d be honoured.” Anthea beamed with obvious pride.
    “In that case, you can pick the team, and I’ll just watch from the sideline.”
    “You have to be our manager,” Anthea said.
    “I’ll do it—if everyone agrees.”
    Anthea turned to the others. “All those who want Jill to be our manager, say ‘Aye’.”
    It was unanimous.
    “Thank you, everyone.” I was a little overwhelmed. “Anthea—if you could organise the practice sessions and select the team, that would be fantastic.”
    “I’ll be happy to. There is just one other thing—what do we call ourselves? We all play for different teams. We’ll need a new name for this particular game.”
    I thought about it for a moment. “Why not just call ourselves ‘W’?”
    “Yeah ‘W’!” Everyone agreed. “Go ‘W’!”
     
     

Chapter 13
    Mr Ivers looked down in the dumps. As a caring neighbour, I should have enquired if he was okay, and asked if there was anything I could do to help. Alternatively, I could have hidden behind a tree, and hoped he didn’t see me.
    Whoops! Too late. He was headed my way.
    “Morning, Mr Ivers.”
    “Morning, Jill,” he grunted.
    For a moment, I wondered if Alicia still had her claws into him. But his eyes were clear, and he was responding. He did look incredibly sad though.
    “Is everything okay?” What was I doing? Why didn’t I just keep walking? I was getting soft in my old age.
    “Not really. I’m rather sad.” Never had a truer word been spoken.
    “Why’s that, Mr Ivers?” See how I made it sound like I cared. Oscar material.
    “You met Tess, didn’t you?”
    “Oh yes. I met her.”
    “I thought we were getting on really well, but then something seemed to go wrong.”
    Poisoning your partner can have that effect.
    “Wrong how?”
    “I honestly don’t know. It all started when I became ill—I must have caught the flu or something.”
    Definitely or something .
    “I wasn’t myself for a couple of days; I felt completely out of it. But then, I seemed to shake it off. After that, though, Tess wouldn’t come anywhere near me. It was as if she was afraid of catching something.”
    “I’m a little like that myself. I stay away from my nephew and niece when