1- A Job Offer
From: .
Subject: Need your help ...
O Alex, little mate, little friend.
Be a precious angel and meet me for a nosh and a natter.
It's always good to get an email from a friend, but Alex wasn't sure about this one. He did like Olly, but . . . Well, she was a bit embarrassing. She was a witch, for one thing, and she kept trying to persuade Alex that he was a witch too, when he didn't want to be a witch. Even if he could twingle.
From: .uk
Subject: Wot's this about?
It had better be good.
From: .
Subject: Money, money, money . . .
It is about things that go crash, bang, wallop in the night. C'mon. Be a friend. Meet me in town, by the fountain, four-fifteen. I'll give you a lift home.
This sounded to Alex like more witchy stuff. He really didn't want to get involved - but they did owe Olly a favor. When their house had been invaded by a Hairy Bogle that decorated at the dead of the night, it had been Olly who saved them from it.
From: .uk
Subject: Ok.
This had better be good . . .
The fountain stood at the end of the marketplace, by Boots and Woolworths. It was a big white thing, fancy as a wedding cake, carved with rearing horses that had fishes' tails, and women dressed like ancient Greeks with jugs on their heads, and dolphins, bunches of grapes, garlands of flowers - it was just dripping with carving. Not with water any more, though. It had been dry for years, though the two big basins for the water to fall into were still there and the water spouts in the shape of chubby babies' heads. But it had made a wonderful meeting place. People splitting up to go to different shops would say 'Meet you by the fountain in ten minutes.' There were always people sitting on its steps and on the edges of its basins, waiting for other people.
Alex quickly spotted Olly, leaning against one of the fountains basins. Her short, fat figure stood out, especially against the white stone, because she was wearing her black motorcycle leathers and boots. She didn't seem to have her helmet with her. When she saw him, she spread her arms and called, 'Ally! Blessings be, little pal of mine!'
Alex cringed and looked round to see if anyone was laughing at them, but none of the passing shoppers seemed to have taken any notice. 'Tone it down,' he said. Her hair was still impenetrably black and shiny, he saw, and she was still making up her eyes with thick black lines, like an ancient Egyptian, though she'd left off the blue lipstick today. There was still a silver stud through the middle of her bottom lip and another through her eyebrow. He looked to see if, as usual, she was wearing a moon earring in one ear and a sun earring in the other. To his amazement, he saw that her earrings were dangling silver skeletons. They had tiny joints and waggled their arms and legs as she moved her head. It was hard to stop watching them.
'Come on, quick step,' Olly said. 'We got places to go, people to see.'
Alex followed her as she started off down the street. 'Where are we going and for how long? I've got to get home by six.'
'No worries,' Olly said. 'You worry too much, little pal. The Goddess looks after all!'
She led him downhill, to the small car park by the library. He looked for her big motorbike, a gleaming black-and-silver machine with 'Stormrider' painted on the fuel tank. He was half looking forward to a ride on it and a bit nervous at the same time. What was he going to do for a helmet? Did Olly have one in his size? But he couldn't see a motorbike in the car park.
Olly went up to a little Vauxhall Nova, a very old one, and started unlocking it. Alex gaped. The bonnet was covered in rust spots and one door was light blue, while the rest of the car was maroon. 'Is this yours?' he said.
'Your carriage awaits!' Olly left the passengers door open for him and went round to the drivers door.
When they were both inside, he said, 'What happened to Stormrider?'
'Hors de combat,'Olly said, as she started the car and reversed out of the parking place. 'A cracked piston. Humungous job, and the garage geezers are demanding oodles of spondulicks before Storm rides again.'
As they drove through town, Alex said sadly, 'I wish you'd talk English.'
'Storm's off the road,' Olly translated. 'She can be fixed, but it's going to cost big bucks. That's why I need your help, little pal. Got a job. It's tricky but I need the readies pronto. So please, please, be a brick, and render assistance, or it's Shank's pony pour moi when my friend gets this car back.'
'What is the job?' Alex asked.
'A-ha! Been practicing your witchcraft?'
'I don't want to be a witch, I told you.'
'But you are a witch. You twingle. Don't fight it petal.'
'Just because I get - get -' Alex couldn't think of another word for it, 'get twingles doesn't mean I have to be a witch. I want to work with computers.'
'Nothing says a witch can't work with computers,' Olly said. 'Some of the best do, these days. Still, I won't nag.'
They were still driving through town, along busy roads. As they pulled up at traffic lights, Alex tried again. 'What kind of job is it?'
'We'll be there soon,' Olly said.
'Are you going to tell me what the job is?'
'Not till we're there.'
Annoyed, Alex said, 'Why do you wear motorcycle leathers to drive a stupid beat-up old Nova?'
'I'm just a fool for black leather. It's so witchy, darling.'
The long, straight road lined with big houses turned into a long, straight road passing between fields and hedges. Alex realized that he knew it. He'd often driven along it with his father when they were going to the Edge, a piece of wild, open country where you could wander through woodlands or scramble up red sandstone cliffs. But Olly drove past the turning for the Edge and continued on, driving fast along a dual carriageway. They passed a sign, painted in dark green and gold. It said, 'The Olde Manor Inne.' An arrow pointed to the right. Olly slowed down, and turning right, into an entrance almost hidden with overgrown bushes and trees.
Alex leaned forward, peering through the windscreen. All he could see was thick greenery leaning in from either side. There was no sign of any building at all. The lane curved and a gap in the hedge let them see a green pond with ducks swimming on it and then another curve brought them to the Inne.
It was a very old, timbered house. The timbers, some curved, some straight, were weathered to a soft, silvery grey. Between the timbers, the plasterwork was a pale ochre, while above, the uneven rood was of dark slate, grown with orangey lichens and tufts of green moss. The glass of the small windows seemed black, as if the house were full of darkness, but the diamon-shaped panes flashed brightly where they caught the sun. The door was set back within an arched porch, but Alex could see that, in the shadows of the porch, the door was small and narrow, with a massive beam above it and another at either side. The dark wood of the door was strudded with many rows of big-headed nail.
'Look at that,' Olly said. 'Did you ever see a more haunted house?'