There was a loud popping noise and the walls of Appen shivered and disappeared. Lola and Bunty were still in costume but standing on the moors in the chill night air confronted by Inspector Plodding and the Lower Gussett constabulary looking bewildered. Something that looked like it might once have been Dorking was lying in a disheveled heap on the ground with Padraig back in game keeper’s garb pointing a shotgun at the prone figure with Branwell holding him in place with a pitchfork.
“So, it’s you two again, all grown up!” said Inspector Plodding smoking his pipe.
“Yes,” said Bunty, “but isn’t this out of your jurisdiction or something?”
“The strange thing is Miss, we suddenly found ourselves here-although we have been attempting to apprehend the internationally wanted criminal known as Dorking aka Dawkins aka Hawking aka Smelly.” said Plodding.
“What’s wrong with him-I mean generally asked Lola, who was trying to look as cold and vulnerable as possible so that Padraig would take the hint and put his nice harris tweed jacket over her shoulders and maybe put his arm around her.
“Ah well you may ask!” came a familiar voice-it was Bingo.
“I thought that you were dead!!” cried Bunty and Lola in Unison.
“I was,” said Bingo, “but that’s another story for another time my dears. Dorking was a patient of mine at the asylum for many years and although he was already suffering from an over inflated ego being a medium sized fish in a small pond, but then all those experiments with electricity and all the not believing in anything clap trap, also coming back from the dead and his sheer jealousy of Lola fried his evil selfish brain.”
“I knew it!” cried Bunty.
“So what are you going to do to it?” asked Lola of Bingo and Inspector Plodding.
“Well my dear, putting him on trial would be fair under normal circumstances.” said Bingo.
“But locking him up and throwing away the key would seem more suitable.” said Plodding.
“That’s all very well.|” said Padraig chewing on a stick,” but which reality are we in?
“Oh yes!” said Lola, “We’re still within the Grimoire and we need to align all genres, time frames and realities in order-what we could do with is a really good magician who is also a librarian!”
Padraig nodded slowly and Bunty wondered just exactly what was in that Salty Seaman’s Shag that made them both talk in such a way.
“I think I know what you mean, ” said Bunty, “but how do we do it?”
Dorking attempted to speak but Lola, despite her period costume was wearing terribly sharp stilettos and stabbed him in the arm making him whimper, but at least it shut him up.
“We have to wish really hard!” said Lola, “And use a little bit of magic.”
Bingo squealed, “Ooh I say Lola, why not click those delightful red shoes of yours together three times and see what happens sweetie?”
“Wrong book, ” said Lola, “there isn’t a wizard behind the curtain pulling the levers and this time the witches win!”