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Peggy Powler & The Missing Children.
#14
On Thursday afternoon, Peggy had collected what she believed was the ideal lure for the mysterious Gwydionel, although the
full situation of the Witch's scheme wasn't entirely told to Mary Bretton. "It's an eye-catcher, alright..." Peggy had said with a
tone of admiration, "...Yon tapestry would look just fine behind me as 'Ah draw the future from me-crystal ball" she added with
an genial wink that Mr Volcano would be proud of.

Peggy had ambled past the Bretton home around eleven o'clock after checking with a couple of the other village residents
in regards of joining-in with the midsummer celebrations.  She wanted to leave visiting Mary Bretton as her final destination
believing the endorsement from others would go along way to hopefully convincing Kittie's mother to lend the ornate decoration.

With Thistle busy in his burrow completing a task that would enhance the trap, Peggy confidently believed the child-stealing
she-devil would be brought to justice. But first, real majick requires to be desired, the citizens of St. Martin's needed to be
asked.

The first to hear a light tapping at their door was the Brewer, Jack Morgan.
A stout bearded man with a dowdy wife and broad-shouldered son, who agreed with the idea -too eagerly in Peggy's opinion,
and assured the visiting woman in the big hat that the finest of his ales would be right-proud to sit at her table.

The Bowmans, a couple with a daughter of around four years-old and lived just on the bend, nervously concurred with each
other that it would bring something new to the jamboree. It was only when Peggy was halfway down their garden path, that she
realised Mrs Bowman was following her.

"May I have a word, Ms Powler?" the woman with flour on her apron asked and began to anxiously wring the pinafore in her hands.
The woman's face showed a dread that Peggy initially didn't understand, but with the little girl peeking from the half-closed door,
she grabbed the reason just as Jane Bowman revealed it.

"Please sort this horrible situation..." she said softly "...there's an evil here and we're at our wits-end, please help us" and
her tense glance over her shoulder didn't go amiss. Peggy offered her best confident face and lifted the wide rim of her hat,
the gaze of the famous sorceress brought a look of relief on the downcast woman on the bend.

Patting the woman on the shoulder and slipping a small charm into the act, Peggy vowed to rid St. Martin's of whatever
badness was casting a shadow and just as she turned to go, an idea popped into the Witch's head.
"To make yer' feel better, me-charge fur' such services is a rope..." Peggy said with a genuine smile "...a rope bound in
coloured ribbons".

Jane Bowman countered her visitor's grin and vigorously shook Peggy's hand. "I'll be sure to do that" she answered cheerfully,
the skittish woman's height rose as the spell took hold. The Witch nodded imperceptibly and left the fretting family's property
with a backwards wave.

The nosy lady who ran the grocery store was also okay with the idea and leaning over her gnarled wooden counter,
Mrs Spearman imparted that the festival would be probably the last as her customers were becoming less and less.
Standing next to a mouse-nibbled sack of corn and a cracked crate of apples that proclaimed they were the best in
Broadfield County, Peggy nodded that she understood the woman's assertion.

"By the way, does anyone run the drapery next-door?" Peggy asked as she feigned interest in a large jar of pickled eggs.
The late-morning sun made the contents look like the eyes of Tommyknockers that Peggy had once helped to defeat a
loathsome mine-owner.

The proprietor of the Spearman's Country Fare & Goods looked towards the wall that separated her establishment from
the run-down building of the late Madame Tanner. The dead woman had gone-over a year ago and Amy Spearman had
told the nervous Bowman woman up the road that she'd reckoned it was consumption that had took her, although the
Doctor from Durridge would disagree.

"Since Madame Tanner passed away, the shop was just left as it was" Mrs Spearman said softly and slowly moved towards
the glass container full of greenish eggs. "Will you be buying anything today?" she supplemented, but this time added a hint
of strength. It doesn't pay to let perspective customers dawdle.

The last Witch of Underhill turned her face towards where the sunbeams were causing dust motes to dance above a small
barrel of black treacle and keeping her hand beneath her poncho, she moved her little finger and mouthed a similar spell that
she'd used earlier on Thistle. For a few seconds, there was no sound and then in a low voice, Amy began her mesmerized
monologue.

"She died of consumption, 'though the Doctor from Durridge wouldn't believe me" the drowsy woman muttered. Peggy turned
back towards the counter and closed the space between them, she felt it prudent to wiggle her finger some more.
"She kept herself to herself... you know, I can't recall anyone ever going in there except for the Bretton girl. A crying shame
about that lassie" Amy Spearman said dreamily.

As the sepia-coloured store ticked in the warmth of the summer sun and two cockroaches scurried across a shelf behind the
hypnotised woman, the Witch with the too-large satchel asked if Amy knew more about the lonely seamstress who failed as
a business person.

"She never married, you know... my old man died five winters ago and he always thought that men were visiting next-door in
the late hours... but I never saw anything like that" Amy's eyes were almost closed and a slight tick had begun with her upper-lip.
"Yes, my man said he heard things at night... bumps and such, noises... movements strange for a spinster to make, he told me"

Amy's final testimony was almost a whisper now as Peggy's enchantment drew the store-owner deeper into a sleep.
With a slight wheeze, widow Spearman slowly sagged forward on to the elbow-worn countertop and the little magician saw that
her trick had gone too far. With a resigned sigh, Peggy blew onto her thumb and as her magical hat grew to its full size, the lady
half-laid on the counter reversed her equilibrium and returned from the land of the dazed.

"Missus Spearman, 'Ah thank yer' fur' your time" Peggy said with a slight nod and turning to leave, the reanimated retailer said
something that caused her only customer to pause her gait. Widow Spearman had gazed around at her wares for a moment and
seemed to be wondering where she was. Then setting her best sales-woman's features on her seventy year-old face, she called
to the receding Witch to come back soon and remember that buying something now is a stitch in time.

Standing outside the desolate salon of Madame Tanner, Peggy Powler stared through the crud-smeared windows and wondered
what had been going on in there.
Edith Head Gives Good Wardrobe. 


Messages In This Thread
Peggy Powler & The Missing Children. - by BIAD - 04-16-2021, 02:34 PM
RE: Peggy Powler & The Missing Children. - by BIAD - 06-19-2021, 03:31 PM

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