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‘ L ong time, no see.’

Rose looked up from manhandling things in the car’s boot to find Iseult standing next to her in the supermarket carpark.

She was dressed in autumn colours today, a soft russet tunic dress printed with apricot swallows, brown lacy tights and low heeled brown leather boots.

Rose, in jeans faded by age rather than design and an old hoody of David’s, wondered if Iseult ever, ever looked a mess.

She’d probably gone through childbirth, fully made up and not a hair out of place, wearing a designer negligee, with no more display of distress than a slightly raised eyebrow and one bead of sweat on her brow.

‘The last time was at the ceilidh wasn’t it? I was away last week, visiting my in-laws.’ Iseult smiled. ‘They don’t approve of me. I’m a bad mother.’

‘Are you? I mean don’t they?’

Iseult laughed and shifted her deep red laptop bag more comfortably on her shoulder. ‘Coming to the book club next week?’

Rose hesitated. Was she? Life ebbed and flowed.

At the moment, everything seemed normal and it was impossible to believe that two weeks ago, the ground had throbbed under her feet and the stars had pressed down.

Impossible to believe that Simon had been a werewolf and a shapeshifter had brushed her hair.

‘What’s the book?’

‘Who knows? It doesn’t matter. Everyone who’s not driving, drinks wine and gossips. It’s like the Guild only without all the tea.’

‘Is that all the Guild does? Drink tea and gossip?’

‘Come along again and see tonight.’

Rose shrugged. ‘I’m not a tea drinker and I don’t know any gossip.’

‘Seriously, tonight, we’ve got a talk on the history of spinning and weaving with a bit of a demo and the chance to have a go yourself.’

It was so hard to imagine Iseult wanting to do anything crafty that Rose blinked and opened her mouth, struggling for words. ‘Sorry, it’s just I’m struggling to link business analysis and spinning.’

Iseult shifted the laptop bag again. ‘It’s very interesting. Both are. You need to understand patterns and rhythms and how … how to get the result you want.’

‘Manipulation?’

For the first time, Rose saw Iseult’s face creased with a frown. ‘Control. Not manipulation.’

‘It’s not really my thing,’ said Rose. ‘I’m no good with my hands except when playing the cello.’ A thought dawned on her. ‘You keep sheep don’t you? Are you bringing their wool?’

‘Tony’s being a bore. Won’t let me have any for the Guild. You don’t have to try actually spinning or weaving. I won’t be.’ Iseult shuddered slightly.

Rose allowed herself a small smirk, imagining a chip on those immaculate nails and fluff on her pretty clothes.

‘But the talk will be interesting. Spinning and weaving were a mainstay of this town for a very long time. Female economy.’

‘Girl power.’

Iseult fixed serious eyes on Rose’s and then her mouth smiled. ‘All they had.’

‘I’m sorry, that was facetious. Actually, I was interested in the talk you gave.’

‘Really? You left before it had finished.’

‘I know, I’m sorry, I…’ Behind Iseult, Rose saw Sam. She was frowning, frozen, watching, shaking her head. Never explain.

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t stay, but what I heard was inspiring and interesting. The history I mean. It sounded like an unusual place for its era.’

‘It was once, and then it was ruined.’

‘By people who labelled women’s empowerment as witchcraft?’

‘By de…’ Iseult started, then stopped. The smile was replaced by a frown. She turned and found Sam behind her. ‘Hello Sam, I’ve been trying to persuade Rose to join the book club. I hope you haven’t put her off by telling her we’re too intellectual.’

‘Would I do that?’ said Sam, then she turned to Rose. ‘Are we still on for a drink Rose?’

Rose shut the boot lid and locked the car. ‘Try and stop me. I’ll think about the book club Iseult. But I think I’ll give the spinning a miss this time.’

Iseult’s smile returned. ‘I’ll text you the details.’ She spun on her heel to walk into the supermarket.

‘She’ll have a job,’ said Rose. ‘I haven’t given her my number,’.

‘That won’t stop her,’ answered Sam. ‘I’d quite like to wait here and see if she actually does any shopping.

I’ve never known her do anything practical in all the time I’ve been here.

It’s always Tony. Or they have it delivered.

Goodness knows they’re not short of a bob or two.

Anyway, sorry if I butted in, but I got the feeling you might need rescuing. Iseult’s rather intense.’

‘Mmm. I could do with going out for a drink, only I’ve got stuff that needs to go in the freezer.’

‘Me too, on both fronts. Why don’t we meet up later? Could Simon bring you down so you don’t have to drive home?’

‘I hesitate to say this about my own brother, but you’re clearly confusing him with someone who puts someone else before himself.’

‘He can’t be that bad.’

‘You reckon.’

Just after eight, Rose met Sam in the hotel bar.

She’d considered asking Simon to come down with her but he had holed himself up with Sue’s latest long email about the TV series.

Everything was behind schedule and he was annoyed, sitting at his desk, foot tapping incessantly on the floor as he made notes.

From time to time, he looked out through the window at the darkening sky and up towards the forest. He checked his phone, then put it down, then checked it again to make sure the sound was on.

Even if Rose had felt inclined to stay, she couldn’t have worked with him in this mood.

She had gone through the final proof of the book of David’s photographs earlier, tracing the images as if she could touch him through them. They were cold and smooth.

From the corner of her room, the cello watched as she changed into a short skirt and jumper and put on the long boots she’d rescued from the spare room.

‘It’s no good trying to make me feel guilty,’ she said to it, as she brushed her and applied lipstick. ‘I can’t play with Simon thumping and swearing.’

She thought about Rob in his studio, head bent over fingers plucking a melody from the guitar. She thought about those hands holding hers and then his lips touching hers and…

‘That’s enough,’ she told the cello. ‘I’m going out. It’s a drink with Sam or learning the difference between weft and warp at the Guild. You can stay here and keep an eye on him .’

She wasn’t quite sure which him she meant, but when she got to the hotel, Rob was there, propping up the bar with Iseult’s husband.

He smiled and raised his glass. Tony turned and smiled too, not that he had any idea who she was presumably.

Rose assumed he’d brought Iseult down for the Guild meeting.

‘Who do you suppose is minding the children?’ she asked Sam as they clinked glasses.

‘The boy will be round at his friend’s, unless you can see him in a corner with some kind of electronic thing. But the girl’s gone to the Guild with Iseult I expect,’ Sam answered. ‘She’s being taught the ropes early on.’

‘I suppose the spinning and weaving might be fun if you’re what … seven or eight?’

‘Six. She’s tall like her father and … enigmatic like her mother.’

‘Enigmatic?’

‘I’m being polite.’

‘You really don’t like her, do you?’

‘No. I don’t like people who hide things.’

Rose shifted in her chair and looked down into the wine she’d lifted to her mouth. ‘What do you think she’s hiding?’

‘It’s not just Iseult, but she’s best at it. Wouldn’t want to play her at poker. I feel like I’m being monitored by half the women of the town all the time? Don’t you?’

‘I feel that way about half the women I meet,’ said Rose.

Sam chuckled. ‘Yes, I know what you mean. By the way, I heard the ceilidh was good, or at least it was until the power cut. You really made a stir.’

‘Mmm. That was a really strange evening. Did anyone tell you about it?’

‘Well I heard bits and bobs from people. They were full of what a grand evening it had been and then every single one them sort of glazed over and went quiet as if they’d forgotten what came next or were ashamed of something and needed to make something up. It was a bit eerie. So I asked Alicia.’

Rose had forgotten Alicia was there. What would a vicar make of that primeval fear? Would she even register it? ‘What did she say?’

Sam swirled her wine and drained it. ‘Alicia’s from round here.

Nothing much surprises her. She knows the history of the place and is related to pretty much everyone somehow or other.

But she said it was unnerving. She said the minute the lights went out, everyone lost the plot.

She said it felt as if they were being suffocated.

She said it ought to have been fine, the moon was bright, there was music and everyone was having a good time, and then it was as if…

it doesn’t make sense what she said. Mass hysteria I suppose, but then Alicia’s not the sort to be affected by that sort of thing.

She said her ears throbbed and there was this pressure.

Something like that. Is that how you felt? ’

‘Pretty much exactly.’

Rose went to buy another round of drinks.

‘Looking nice, Ms Henderson,’ said Rob as the bartender poured the wine. ‘If you’d said you were coming down, you could have given me a lift and saved me the walk.’

‘I came down in a taxi. Simon’s coming to pick me up in while, I hope. Else I’ll have to take a taxi back.’

Rob looked at her boots. ‘I suppose a walk is out of the question.’

‘Yup. Anyway, Simon could give you a lift back too. Although actually, I’m not sure I can be sure he’ll turn up. He’s in a funny mood.’

‘Not well?’

‘It’s work things. Not sure what all of them are, but there you go. If he won’t say, I can’t help. I’m Rose, by the way,’ she said to Tony.

‘Oh sorry, that was so rude of me,’ said Rob. ‘I’d forgotten you hadn’t met. Tony this is Rose Henderson, Rose this is Tony. I think you know his wife Iseult.’

They shook hands.

‘She hasn’t persuaded you to join the Guild then.’

Rose shook her head and paid the bartender. ‘I might come to the book club though. Iseult promised I’d get to meet your ponies.’

‘You’re welcome to meet them without having to join the bookclub.’

Rose smiled and returned to her table.

‘Sam,’ she said, ‘what do you know about the history of this town? Iseult mentioned about it being pretty much destroyed by one thing after another in the seventeenth century, but I wasn’t clear what.

She said there were legends about wise women and shapeshifters and the witch finders came and destroyed both. And then came the plague.’

‘Plagues were commonplace,’ said Sam. ‘ People report death by plague or sweating sickness constantly prior to relatively modern times. It’s impossible now to know what the disease actually was in each case.’

‘I see.’

‘The impression I get is that the town managed fine for years, out of the way, doing its own thing, a good distance away from anyone’s notice,’ said Sam.

‘The wise women were apparently even more skilled than the average, but how much of that is hearsay and how much is propaganda I don’t know.

The local stories say they could heal anything.

On the other hand,’ – she took a sip of wine – ‘the witchfinder reports said the wisewomen could kill remotely.’

‘From what I understand it didn’t take much for people to be reported for witchcraft.’

‘Mmm,’ said Sam. ‘But local stories suggest they weren’t reported exactly. It was something that was happening that was reported.’

‘The healing – or I suppose – the failure to heal?’

‘As I say, they were more skilled than the average and perhaps better at talking their way out of things when it went wrong. Maybe the status of women was higher here than was normal for the time. But that’s not the impression I have.

It was something else that was happening.

Something else that someone did. Or perhaps, that they were. ’

‘“People who weren’t quite people”,’ said Rose. The wine had soured in her mouth.

Sam nodded. ‘Something like that. They don’t like to talk about it, even now.

Even Alicia. I got it out of her in the end.

It’s as if four hundred years have passed and yet they’re still angry.

But not all angry about the same thing. I can’t put my finger on it.

I swear it makes no sense. You can understand about witchcraft, or at any rate about what people thought was witchcraft: herbalism - sometimes getting it right, sometimes getting it wrong - manipulating people’s thoughts, you know, positive or negative thinking - a fundamental lack of scientific knowledge in a time of high mortality and superstition.

But “people who weren’t quite people”? Selkies?

Is that what they meant? That really is the stuff of legend. ’

‘What if it wasn’t?’

Sam stared. ‘You sound like Alicia.’

Rose put her glass down and looked into it. Why had it been easier to tell Rob? Not that a hotel bar was the right place to tell Sam something she clearly wouldn’t believe.

‘Posie!’

She looked up, Simon was standing behind Sam.

‘Are you going to introduce me?’ He ran his eyes over Sam’s neat short hair and elfin face and smiled broadly. She smiled back and appraised him.

‘Sam, this is my brother Simon, Simon this is my friend Sam. Sam, I’ve told you all about Simon. Sorry, it’s all true. Simon, I’ve told you all about Sam, but I don’t expect you were listening.’

‘Probably not,’ he admitted, ‘and more fool me. Delighted to meet you.’ He shook her hand. ‘Can I buy either of you ladies a drink? I’ve had some good news and I’m ready for a beer.’

Before she could say anything, Simon had gone to the bar. He came back with a tray of drinks, menus, Rob and Tony.

Rose said, ‘You’re supposed to be driving me home.’

‘We can walk.’ He chinked glasses with her, ignoring her glare. ‘Right, I’m ravenous, what’s everyone eating?’

‘How come you’re so cheerful all of a sudden?’ she said low. ‘I thought things were behind schedule.’

‘Andrew says he thinks Sky’s getting better,’ he said, without dropping his voice at all.

‘Who’s Sky?’ whispered Sam from the other side of Rob, who had sat next to Rose.

Rob whispered back, ‘His Danish girlfriend.’

‘Oh,’ Sam took a sip of wine.

Rob and Rose caught each other’s glance and then he looked towards her feet. ‘Fancy sharing a taxi?’ he said.

She rolled her eyes and took a menu. ‘Who’s Sky?’ Sam had asked and the answer should have been ‘a person who’s not quite a person’. There wasn’t much room around the table and Rob’s leg kept leaning on hers. She couldn’t shift away without leaning on Tony.

If Sky got better, what would that mean? That she could shift more often and choose like her mother and grandmother? Caught between realities.

But then , thought Rose, twiddling her wedding ring, Rob’s leg warm against hers, aren’t we all?