Witch Is When the Penny Dropped by Adele Abbott Page B

said. “But Kathy said I should leave it. Something has to be done though—it’s getting ridiculous.”
     
    The meal was great, and I enjoyed the chance to chat with the two of them without the kids running riot. I left at the same time as Peter set off to collect them. Much as I loved my nephew and niece, I was shattered and couldn’t face the mayhem.
    As I drove home, I thought about what Kathy and Peter had said about their new neighbour, and then I remembered that the previous night had been a full moon.
     
    I had a voicemail from Drake. He wanted to talk, and suggested we meet in the park the following day. He said he’d be there at ten o’clock in the morning, and I only need call him back if I couldn’t make it. I’d planned to go over to Candlefield anyway, and it was time I had a chat with him about Raven.
     
    ***
     
    There was no sign of Betty when I got back to my flat, but I did walk straight into Mr Ivers. He beamed when he caught sight of me—I was no doubt a hero in his eyes for rescuing the movie journals. He’d probably still be thanking me for the next five years.
    “Jill, I’m glad I caught you. There’s something I have to say to you—”
    “It’s okay, Mr Ivers. There really is no need for thanks. Anyone would have done it.”
    “No, but—”
    “I’d rather we just forgot about it. Your journals are safe and that’s all that matters.”
    “That’s not why I wanted a word.”
    “Oh?”
    “You saw the damage to my flat.”
    “I did. It was a terrible thing.”
    “It’s going to cost me a fortune to put right.”
    “Still, the insurance should cover it.”
    “That’ll cover part of the cost, thank goodness, but not all of it. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”
    I didn’t believe it. He was going to try to tap me for a loan. Well he was out of luck. I was barely making rent myself.
    “I’m sorry to tell you I’ll have to increase the cost of the newsletter subscription.”
    “The newsletter?”
    “Yes, and I’m afraid it’s going to be quite an increase. Double in fact.”
    “That’s a lot.”
    “But worth every penny, I’m sure you’ll agree. When I thought the journals were lost, I seriously considered packing it in altogether.”
    “Hold on. Are you saying if I hadn’t rescued those journals, you’d have given the newsletter up?”
    “Precisely.”
    Hoisted by my own petard.
    “Look Mr Ivers. I’m really sorry about what happened to your flat, but I can’t afford to pay double. I think I’m going to have to cancel.”
    “Are you sure?”
    I sighed, and tried to look suitably disappointed. “I think so.”
    “Even with the cancellation fee?”
    “What cancellation fee?”
    “Don’t you remember the paper you signed?”
    “I thought that was just the Direct Debit agreement.”
    “Didn’t you read the small print on the back?”
    The small print? “What did it say?”
    “It specified that you’ll have to pay the equivalent of two years’ cover price to cancel.”
    “Let me see if I’ve got this right. I can keep on getting the newsletter, or pay for two years to cancel?”
    “That’s about the size of it. I’ll leave you to mull it over.”
    Curiously, the option to cancel still seemed the more appealing of the two.
     
    ***
     
    I was in Candlefield bright and early the next day. The sky was blue, the sun was out and Barry was being more like Barry.
    “Can we go for a walk?”
    “Yes. That’s where we’re going now.”
    “I love to walk!”
    “Yes. I know you do.”
    “Are we going for a walk?”
    “Yes.”
    “When?”
    “Right now.”
    “Great. Let’s go!”
    “You seem much happier than the last time I saw you,” I said.
    “That nice vet gave me lots of treats.”
    “The vet? Have you been poorly?”
    “No. I had the snap. It wasn’t too bad. I was asleep while he did it.”
    “Who took you to the vet?”
    “Lucy.”
    I was surprised, but kind of relieved. I was a bit squeamish when it came to that kind of