Miss Marble looked at the note in front of her and was immediately concerned.
It had been a long time since she received a request for jammshup. She was concerned because she remembered well what jammshup was and it was not a potion to trifle with.
In Medieval times it was used as a truth serum. It was very effective as one drop on your tongue sent your mind into such a spin that you were more than willing to answer any question as truthfully as you could to spare yourself another drop of the potion.
But time and sensibilities had changed. The potion, which she always thought was barbaric, had been outlawed by the Assembly Of Covens and although the recipe still existed it was never used beyond the 1600s.
But the name on the order bothered her as well. Delorus Mountpony, Miss Marble thought was long dead. She had been a form of inquisitor back when inquisitors were a penny a dozen.
Below the name was a mobile telephone number and Miss Marble was surprised to hear Delorus’ voice when she rang the number.
Delorus it turned out was up to her old tricks, contracted by the Pony Road Gang, a hideous group of thugs from the other side of the tracks, she had need of the potion to help out an old friend, as she put it.
Miss Marble knew the dangers of the potion and refused to consider the order, especially for Delorus Mountpony, and told her so.
When Miss Marble refused you even Delorus knew better than to threaten or try to cajole you. Delorus and her friends would have to make use of more conventional methods to extract whatever truth they needed.
As for Miss Marble the thought of making the potion, of digging the worms she needed from her garden and boiling them in rats faeces was not a smell she wanted lingering in her kitchen. It was little wonder victims in the past had given up all and every secret, as she knew how horrible it was to smell let alone have to taste.
She shuddered as she screwed up Delorus’ note and cast it into the kitchen fire.