‘But of course magic doesn’t really work anyway, even if Grumps is genuinely deluded that it does – and presumably this Mann-Drake is too. Grumps told Miss Winter about him trying to buy the Smithy and then she remembered that it was a Mr Drake that had purchased the title of Lord of the Manor and was also buying Badger’s Bolt.’
‘Oh, I see!’ Poppy exclaimed, enlightened. ‘It might be the same person and that’s what she meant about us perhaps having to deal with a greater evil than your grandfather. She said the Mr Drake who’s bought Badger’s Bolt could turn out to be even more undesirable, though she didn’t say why.’
‘According to Grumps the village is a magical hotspot, being on the junction of two ley lines, so even if he failed to buy the Old Smithy, Mr Mann-Drake might still want to come here. I can’t imagine why he would want to be Lord of the Manor, though!’
‘Perhaps it is a different Mr Drake after all,’ she suggested. ‘Let’s hope so. By the way, Felix and I confessed that we knew you and I told them you made and sold Chocolate Wishes. They couldn’t have any objection to that.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought so. And where did you say Felix has got to?’
‘He had to go back and open the shop. One of his special clients is coming and anyway, he can’t keep shutting all the time, even if it is off season, or he’ll never make a living.’
‘I think he’ll always do most of his bookselling via the internet, like me with my Chocolate Wishes, even if I let the public into the workshop when the museum is open. Passing trade is just the icing on the gingerbread, but I can have jars of chocolate lollies on the counter for the children, and I thought about making treacle toffee witch’s cat ones, too. Do you remember when I used to make them for Jake and his friends on Hallowe’en and Bonfire Nights?’
‘Yes, that’s a good idea. It’s quiet for passing trade up this end of the High Street, but once the witchcraft museum opens, you’ll probably get a lot more.’
I finished coating the last heart moulds and gave Poppy a couple of ones I’d made earlier that had broken while I was taking them out.
‘Oh, yum,’ she said. ‘You are clever, Chloe, making such lovely chocolate!’
‘Well, you make brilliant Yorkshire puddings, don’t forget, while mine come out like crispy cowpats and I have to cheat and use frozen ones.’
‘But your fruitcake is wonderful too, so you’re multi-talented.’
‘Anyone can make a fruitcake, Poppy. It’s dead easy.’
‘Maybe, but yours tastes extra special.’ She licked the last of the chocolate off her fingers and added, ‘And your chocolate always tastes different too, especially since you started using that spell your grandfather gave you. You do always say it while you’re mixing up the chocolate, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ I admitted, ‘but only because it was so kind and thoughtful of him to find it for me, not because I think it affects the taste! He gave me a couple more lines recently that he and the friend he corresponds with about it have managed to decipher. He said that might be all of the original and the rest of the document may be a later addition – a sort of added bonus. Not that I really believe any of it is some ancient Mayan charm passed down through the conquistadores, of course.’
‘I do and I think the spell works,’ she declared. ‘I mean, you made good chocolates before, but now they’re on a different plane.’
‘But they’re only hollow chocolate shells, Poppy, it’s not like a box of truffles,’ I said, though actually I do experiment with lots of those, for home consumption. ‘The message inside is the important thing, that’s why people buy them. They’re a novelty and an after-dinner treat.’
‘They’re magic,’ she insisted, and I abandoned trying to change her mind, since she gets these stubborn moments.
‘Speaking of magic, that brings us right back to Hebe and the meeting, doesn’t it? Did you say the temporary vicar intends coming to visit Grumps?’
‘Not just intends – we actually walked here together, because he said he would rather get it over with. He looked a bit nervous, poor man, though I tried to reassure him.’
‘What did you tell him? Come back later, armed with a large stick and a bottle of holy water?’ I was pouring the last little bit of tempered chocolate into lolly moulds, to use it up.
‘I told him he should forget what Hebe said and just welcome Mr Lyon to the village, shake his hand, and go away again.’
‘Very sensible.’
‘But I don’t think that he will take my advice, because he went all scared and stubborn and said if your grandfather was practising witchcraft, then he must try and persuade him to mend his ways, and also not open a museum likely to poison the holy tranquillity of the village.’
I stopped tapping the mould to release air bubbles and stared at her. ‘There’s never been much holy calm about Sticklepond, has there? Even I know that! Is he a complete idiot?’
‘Yes, but a nice one and he means well.’ She glanced quickly over her shoulder, as if the devil might be standing there – or Grumps. ‘You don’t think…?’
‘Grumps doesn’t suffer fools gladly, but he was in quite a good mood this morning when I collected the latest chapter of his book. He was looking forward to spending the day arranging things in the museum and labelling them, so he may not be too harsh with poor Mr Whatever-he’s-called.’
‘Merryman.’
At that moment a small, youngish, balding man wearing a clerical collar scurried past the glazed shop window, as if the devil himself were after him. He turned his head and gave us one terrified glance, then took to his heels and ran.
‘Not so Merryman,’ I commented and sighed. ‘Grumps must have had a change of mood.’
‘Oh, poor thing!’ Poppy said. ‘He’s so nice, too.’
‘Poppy, have you got your eye on him? He is single, isn’t he?’ I asked suspiciously.
‘No, and I’m pretty sure he’s gay, actually, because he keeps showing me pictures of his friend Gerry.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘But I phoned a man from the lonely hearts column last night – not one I showed you before – and he sounded lovely! I’m sure the first one I met was just beginner’s bad luck. We’re going to meet at the Green Man on the day after my birthday.’
‘Poppy, this is just like fishing through a hole in the ice – you don’t know what’s going to come up on the end of the hook! Felix will have fits.’
‘You may have given up on men, Chloe, but I’ve changed my mind because Mr Right has to be out there somewhere.’
‘But yours may not read The Times. Do Horse and Hound do a lonely hearts column?’ I suggested.
Chapter Eleven Birthday Wishes
Poppy had to come into Sticklepond again on the Thursday for the regular Parish Council meeting and she seemed to be developing the habit of calling by on her way home so she could tell me all about them. This time Felix came too and immediately started dropping hints about hot chocolate, until I gave