Billy Angel by Sam Hay Page A

screwdrivers.’
    â€˜Yes,’ whispered Thelma. ‘It needs to be put back together – it’s in a bit of a mess…’
    I gulped. I was pretty sure this wasn’t what the hoodie-angel had in mind when he’d told me I had to help Thelma.
    â€˜Only a couple of other things we need,’ said Gaby cheerfully. ‘Have you got the base stock?’
    The what
?
    Gaby glanced at me and saw the bewilderment on my face. ‘Every spell needs a base. For this one, I think I’m right in saying that you squish 600 fish eyes through a strainer, thensimmer the liquid with newts’ feet, and finally wrap it all up in pigs’ hair, and roast for three hours.
    Thelma’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Instead, she reached into a basket on the table and took out a plastic tub.
    Gaby smiled. ‘Good. The only other thing you need for a zombie spell is a tempter.’
    â€˜A what?’ Again I was lost.
    â€˜Something to tempt the dead back to life.’
    Thelma rummaged in the basket again, and produced a huge pie.
    â€˜Perfect.’ said Gabby. ‘I’m sure our zombie won’t be able to resist.’
    It was completely bonkers. But suddenly we were all very busy.
    Thelma upended the trolley and Stan Spooner tumbled to the floor. I picked up his skull. Strangely, I didn’t feel funny. It was like I was part of a play, and I was just acting the role of wizardy odd-job man.
    I had a good look at the screws that had been drilled into the bottom of the skull. ‘I think I have a screwdriver that’ll do the job,’ I muttered.
    Of course I did. My tool bag could probably have done the job for me.
    â€˜Well, make sure you wire him up properly,’ snapped Thelma, who was swiftly getting back to her old self. ‘I don’t want any mess ups.’
    â€˜What exactly are you planning to do with Mr Spooner?’ asked Gaby, who’d returned with her bucket of worms.
    â€˜How do you know who he is?’ said Thelma, all suspicious again.
    â€˜My cousin is a medical student,’ said Gaby confidently. ‘And a few months ago, he gave me a tour of the anatomy library. I remember Mr Spooner’s distinctively large jaw bone.’
    It was clearly a total fib. But Thelma bought it.
    â€˜Also,’ went on Gaby, ‘when you produced that pie there, as the “tempter”, I knew I was right. A pie for Mr Pie,’ she giggled.
    Gaby was the oddest girl I’d ever met. After a bit, she stopped giggling and cocked her head to one side. ‘But one thing I’m intrigued to know is how you managed to get into the anatomy library to steal Stan. As I remember, it’s usually locked up.’
    Thelma smirked. ‘The hospital janitor is one of our best customers. You’d be amazed at how helpful people can be when you offer themfree pies. I just told him I wanted to become a doctor, and he was happy to give me a spare set of keys to the library so I could swat up for the medical-school entrance exams.’
    Thelma looked at us closely for a moment, and then seemed to make a decision.
    â€˜I suppose I should tell you what I’m planning, but I meant what I said earlier; if either of you breathe a word, I’ll mince you!’
    â€˜Cross my heart,’ said Gaby smiling.
    â€˜Er… me, too,’ I muttered, as I scrabbled about in my tool bag (secretly wishing it would swallow me up).
    Thelma sighed. ‘I need Stan Spooner to teach someone a lesson.’
    Here we go, I thought. You need Stan Spooner to stick a pie cleaver into your exboyfriend’s head.
    â€˜There’s a man I know called Charlie Pittam.’ Thelma’s lips tightened and she puffed up her enormous chest. ‘He made a fool out of me. Told me he loved me, when all along he just wanted free pies so he could get in training for tonight’s pie-eating competition.’
    Gaby nodded sympathetically, as though she’d