‘So now ... Uncle Mike. It’s Uncle Mike who the inspector really works for, yes?’
‘Yes, dear, you could say that.’ She clicked the mouse and moved away from the desk to the countertop at the side of the room.
‘And now I work with the inspector. So ....’ Amanda smiled with delight. ‘Now I work for you! Oh, I like that.’ Gwendolen came to her side at that and clarified kindly,
‘We work for one another and for the good of all Normals as well as well-meaning magical folk. But I suppose .... if you like to think of it like that.’
‘Well, I do. So, if you are M —’
‘Only in honorary terms. That was really Sir Philip.’
‘Well, but who is Q? Who is the Bond gadget whizz?’
Gwendolen looked at Amanda out of the corners of her merry eyes.
‘Can you guess?’ Amanda was at a loss. Miss Armstrong-Witworth unlocked a drawer in the desk and drew forth a certain object. ‘Now standard issue for certain of our agents.’
Amanda leaned forward, staring.
‘Is that ... an IKEA pencil? A Pocket-wand?’ As if in confirmation, Gwendolen flicked the top of the pencil back and pulled out a slim shaft topped with a tiny purple gemstone. ‘Dr Bergstrom’s patent Pocket-wand. Bertil Bergstrom is Q!’
‘The doctors Bergstrom, both Bertil and his wife, Kerstin. A sort of joint Q. But yes.’
‘Does that mean you and Uncle Mike —?’
‘It’s always good to have, just in case a witch who can use it is around, and it’s good for show in a crisis. Plus, you can write things down!’
‘I ... am I an agent?’ Amanda asked keenly.
Gwendolen chuckled.
‘No. Well, we’re all agents for good. We hope.’
‘And Granny and Grandpa?
‘No. No, they were outside the ring. Too maverick. And you were too precious for any but they to protect. It was safer the way that it worked out.’ Miss Armstrong-Witworth picked up a document folder from the desk and put it away in the middle drawer of the filing cabinet. Amanda turned back to the map. Is this ...? It looks a bit yellow.’
‘Yes, the old map. On the wall, over there, is a modern one with all our new borders and country names. But I like to have this one here.’
Amanda nodded sympathetically.
‘I expect it reminds you of Uncle Mike’s parents. Is it long since they died?'
‘Died? Is that what Michael told you?’
‘Well, er, I think so.’
‘Hm ... always nice to be reminded of dear absent friends, isn’t it? You know, while you were away in Cornwall, all I had to do was walk into the ballroom to see reminders of you, my dear,’ remarked Miss Armstrong-Witworth, returning to more mundane matters.
‘There’s more to do, I know, before the May Day Ball,’ Amanda acknowledged.
‘It’s nice for the guests to see the progress too, I think, as they’re twirling around. Shall we go back upstairs?’
‘Yes, of course. I’ll do my best,’ Amanda promised, ‘to get as far as I can with the restoration work before then.’
‘No hurry for that. You take your time and get back into the swing of work gradually.’
Amanda took one last look around the little office, marvelling,
‘All this time ... right here in Sunken Madley. Right under my feet all the time I’ve been working here. And that’s why I don’t often see you in the village, isn’t it? You’re working. You’re working here.’
‘Well, a bit,’ said Gwendolen moderately. ‘One does what one can. This place does serve as a sort of hub for collating information.’
‘And Uncle Mike’s sister and brother-in-law?’
‘Records are kept in different places. No one has the full set. Some in Spain, some in Cornwall, some here, some there.’
Although she wanted to ask where ‘there’ was, something held Amanda back. She was, after all, being made privy to a great deal of highly sensitive information. They were now ascending the stairs, the office securely locked behind them. Once they were back up in the small dining-room and the entrance hidden again, Amanda did, however, enquire,
‘So, what now?’
‘Oh, my dear, you are about have your hands full once more, I do believe.’ Miss Armstrong-Witworth led her back to the small salon.
‘Really? You mean ...?’
‘Bryan Branscombe begins work next week on the inspector’s new abode, does he not?’
‘Yes.’
‘Hm. Well.’ They sat down again, and Gwendolen poured some extra hot water into the teapot. ‘You get some rest. And ....’ She handed Amanda her freshened cup. ‘Look after your inspector.’
Amanda was mystified.
‘Oh?’
‘He’s new to this game.’
‘Yes,’ said Amanda, understandingly, ‘all this magical business.’
‘Precisely, and he hasn’t had your training,’ Gwendolen added.
‘No,’ agreed Amanda.
‘Be kind to him, my dear.’
‘Aren’t I always?’
‘Of course. But what I mean is, let him in.’
It was pretty much what Uncle Mike had said.
‘You mean I should tell him what really happened ...?’
‘Yes. And other things.’
‘Ah ... well ... I’m working up to that.’
Gwendolen smiled at her kindly and put a hand on Amanda’s arm.
‘Yes ... yes, I know. You’ll know the right time. Wait for it. It will come. And when it does, I do believe, it will be rather wonderful.’
Chapter 55
Visitors
At about the same as Amanda was arriving at The Grange, a flight was landing at Newquay Airport. Hogarth and Lucy were there to meet it. There was a joyful reunion as Vera and Harry emerged wheeling their baggage.
‘It’s only been a couple of days!’ exclaimed Vera hugging Lucy.
‘Yes, but we felt it was urgent to deliver your, er, clobber, without delay,’ explained Harry, trotting out the excuse they'd all agreed upon for an impromptu visit just for the weekend. However, it was true that certain art equipment deemed not immediately essential had been left
