Amanda Cadabra and The Strange Case of Lucy Penlowr by Holly Bell (i like reading .TXT) 📗

I remember her mother saying, ‘What about work in the morning?” but he said, “It’s all right. It’s my business. If I want to take a day off, I can.”

‘So, once I knew the three of them would be safe, I drove as close to the beach as I dared, then went on foot. It was dark, but I ran toward Emile’s voice, calling as loudly as he dared:

“Vite! Vite, Lucille!”

‘When I reached him, he picked me up so I wouldn’t get my feet wet, bless him. He said, “Lucille, go below.” And put a finger to his lips. I nodded. First though, I took a final look at the lights of Parhayle and the shores of my homeland that were soon lost in the night.’

***

‘How dreadful,’ Amanda exclaimed. ‘But I don’t understand. How could she have been able to drive? Did this just happen to Elodie? I know she speaks for the family but … what about Lucy? Lucille? Is Elodie Lucy? And the others? Peter and so on?’

‘You haven’t worked it out yet?’ asked Hogarth, with a hint of amusement.

‘Can you give us a clue?’ asked Trelawney.

‘It’s something you, Amanda, should be able to work out.’

She frowned. ‘More than the inspector?’

‘Yes.’

Amanda pondered then hazarded,

‘Is it because I was brought up as a witch?’

Hogarth folded his arms and answered, ‘No.’

‘Because I was educated at home?’

‘No.’

‘Is it —?’ began Trelawney.

‘You’ve had three questions,’ pronounced Hogarth. ‘That’s your lot.’

‘All right, Uncle Mike. But look, on another topic, it had to have been the Cardiubarns who attacked, don’t you think?’

‘Or the Flamgoynes,’ countered Trelawney, ‘People in black with wands. Or both clans.’

‘Whoever it was must have stolen that grimoire,’ Amanda insisted. ‘I mean the similarities are just too many – grimoire, cauldron, jars, coloured smoke – it has to be the same grimoire. And in all that nasty research, they must have figured out an actual asthma spell.’

‘Or what they gave you wasn’t an asthma spell at all,’ suggested Trelawney. ‘What if it was a spell for something else that they knew could go wrong in more than one way, but that could, maybe most likely, cause asthma.’

‘But whatever the effect, I’d be miles away when the Grim Reaper called.’ she concluded with rancour.

‘Yes.’

‘So, let’s say the Cardiubarns made off with the spellbook that night. How did they get it away without the Flamgoynes noticing? I’ll bet the Flamgoynes wanted it every bit as much. Or why attack?’

‘The Dowrkampyers were becoming too influential, perhaps?’ Trelawney suggested. ‘The Flamgoynes and Cardiubarns felt challenged.’

‘Granny did mention cold war truces between the two clans. Maybe they ganged up on the Dowrkampyers, and both hoped they’d get to the grimoire first.’

‘Anyway,’ interrupted Hogarth, ‘we’re almost at the end of my telling of the story.’

‘Awww,’ sighed Amanda.

‘I said my telling of the story,’ Hogarth returned.

‘Oh? Who is going to take over?’

‘You are, my dear niece,’ he said firmly.

Amanda looked at him in surprise.

‘Me? I don’t know anything about Lucy or Elodie or any of them, other than what you’ve told us,’ she protested.

‘We shall see. Until tomorrow, and the end of the line.’

Chapter 22

The End of the Line

The Old Sardine Factory was the destination for the next day. Afterwards, Kyt also took Amanda into the town for tea. She could not resist keeping an eye out for the elderly gentleman and his daughter whom she had met in the Koffiji café, but was out of luck.

‘You know,’ said Amanda to Hogarth and Trelawney that evening, ‘I’d like to go and see all of these sights and attractions again, sometime when I’m not so distracted.’

‘No doubt, you shall,’ Hogarth assured her. This time he brought in a large bread and butter pudding with coconut cream and custard, as well as a pot of tea and hot water. ‘There, that should sustain you. Right. Elodie told me about how she reached the end of the line and beyond ....’

***

‘Sails raised,’ she said, ‘we slid silently out on the tide. They gave me a sip of rum, as the shock was beginning to register. Later, I felt seasick, and the pills for it made me sleep. But I had a nightmare. I was back on the stairs. Emile woke me, and I told him what happened. He was so sweet to me.

“You had to get the children out,” he said simply.

‘Yes,’ I repeated numbly. ‘I had to get the children out.’ Later I asked him, ‘When can I go back?’

“Ma petite, they saw you. They know you were there. They will never stop looking for you. They will never stop watching for your return.”

‘What will I do?’

“There is a family — they will look after you. I promise. They are very kind. They will take care of you.”

‘Then … goodbye, Lucy. I am Lucille.’

‘Eventually we reached St Malo, I think it was, on the Breton coast. We waited until dark before I could leave the boat and was taken to a car. Madame Verité took me home. I was with the Verités for a week, before news came that the Flamgoynes had picked up my trail. I was moved deeper into France and deeper still, until I was with the Charpentier family. And there I seemed to be beyond their reach. Asking too many questions, the Flamgoynes had come to the attention of the French authorities and withdrew.’

Elodie smiled tenderly, saying,

‘The family couldn’t have been more loving. They felt they had a special connection with Cornwall, or England at least. Part of the Charpentier tribe had gone over there during the French Revolution. Madame and Monsieur Charpentier had three lovely children. And I became the fourth: Lucille Charpentier. They got me proper papers. If asked, they said