Page 6

He laid a clammy hand on her shoulder and she shuddered before pushing it away carefully.

“That would involve me actually having done something wrong,” she said as politely as she could, “Now if you do not mind, you’re blocking the way of my patients.”

To her surprise and relief, it turned out there was someone standing behind the reverend, tapping her delicate foot in impatience.

Daisy Summers, another of her recent visitors.

Daisy was a nice enough girl, nice by Glenn standards at least, with curly blonde hair and watery blue eyes.

She had the face of an antsy cherub and her dress, which was somehow both modest and fluffy all at once, was almost drowning her in its frills.

“Hello Daisy,” she said with what she hoped was a welcoming look.

The girl shot a nervous look at the Reverend who raised an eyebrow at Serena before turning away, walking in the opposite direction. Heaving another relieved sigh she faced Daisy again, this time with a genuine smile.

“What can I help you with today?”

“I need that tonic again.” she said without preamble.

“Again?” she asked dubiously, “Daisy, your injury has healed already, I don’t think you should take any more.”

Daisy’s eyes narrowed.

“I am not asking for your opinion! I need that tonic so I can sleep better, and if you’re trying to charge me extra, fine I will give you your miserable coin. Just give the potion to me.”

The smile slipped off her face as her head began to pound in earnest. So much for being nice by Glenn standards.

She was about to refuse again, when a man whose face seemed like it had been carved into a likeness of a blond Adonis joined Daisy.

It was astonishing honestly that Glenn had managed to produce two people who looked like they had stepped out of a picture book.

Not so astonishing that they had both ended up courting each other.

Richard White was from one of Glenn’s oldest families – the Whites had been in this village for almost as long as the Larke family had, which was saying a lot.

It was fortunate that Richard was handsome because he sorely lacked points in the wit department.

Still, he mostly ignored Serena, which was a positive in her book.

“You look as ravishing as ever, my dear,” he proclaimed, swooning over Daisy’s hand.

“Oh, Richard!” giggled the girl in question, and Serena wondered if she was the only one that heard the slightly brittle edge to her laugh.

He twirled her around narrowly missing the table where all of Serena’s medicines and tonics lay.

She hurriedly swept them to the side to avoid an accident, and at that moment, as if things could not get any worse, Old Agatha decided to pass by on her way to the tavern.

Agatha Hamill owned the village sweet shop, which was ironic because there was nothing remotely sweet about her or her insistence on creating trouble.

“There she is again, that pink haired siren. Oooh she’s out to break apart that lovely young couple with her witchy ways,” said the old woman loudly as she passed by Serena’s table.

That was her final straw. Gathering up her things she addressed the lovestruck couple in front of her, both of whom were still making eyes at each other.

“Daisy...if you don’t need anything else, I’ll be off then.”

“What’s this!” cried Richard, “You were unwell, my love?”

Serena winced as Daisy stared daggers at her. For what? She had no idea.

“Oh no, my darling,” she said through gritted teeth, “Serena here is simply making a joke. Of course I did not need anything from here. In fact, I came by to see if she needed anything. It must be so hard for her, living all alone in that dreary old cottage.”

Serena clenched her fists trying to not react to her beautiful home being called a dreary old cottage. It would do her no favors to drive away her most recurring patients.

“What a charitable soul you are, my love!” proclaimed Richard with ardent admiration in his voice.

Daisy giggled again, for real this time, and they both swept off in a cloud of golden glory, basking in their mutual admiration.

Serena looked after them and gave a reluctant smile.

For all their faults those two really loved each other, and she truly did wish them happiness.

She also hoped Daisy would stop feeling the need to ask her for the sleeping tonic, because that way lay nothing good.

Her mother had passed away recently, and Daisy had broken her ankle around the same time.

Serena had given her the concoction for the pain, but she knew the girl had continued taking it long after to cope with her mother’s passing.

Her heart ached for Daisy, but she knew that indulging her would only be harming her further.

Better she weaned herself off before the addiction grew worse.

The ache in her head was worse now and for a minute she seriously wondered if someone had cast a spell on her but then decided no one in Glenn was interesting enough to attempt to do so, and no one outside of Glenn cared enough to try.

She just had to make do until she got home and brewed her usual peppermint tea to relieve the ache.

Swinging the large bag across her shoulders she made her way towards the Woods. Luckily, the weather was clear tonight and the walk home should be uneventful.

On her way back, she crossed the village pub, awash in light and laughter as she heard the villagers engaging in the usual nighttime revelry, the way they did after they had closed up shop and gotten done with all their work.

She knew she should hurry home before it was completely dark, but a perverse part of her wanted to stay a little longer, to take in all the things she would never be part of, for the villagers would never trust her enough to let her be part of their merrymaking.

She drew closer to the window, drinking in the sound of the amusement like an alcohol starved addict to wine.

She lay her hand on the cold glass pane, wishing more than anything that she could just walk in and sit on one of the benches and just let the noise wash over her.

She could hear Richard boasting about one of his hunts with what she was sure was a gross exaggeration, while Daisy swooned over him.

Old Agatha was in the corner harrumphing at the noise, even though Serena knew she enjoyed the merriment more than anyone.

Feeling like an interloper who had no business sharing in this moment even from the outside, Serena turned and caught her reflection in the glass window of the shop opposite the pub.

She saw a thin, almost reedy girl with wild pink hair that was only barely tamed with a yellow ribbon and had wildflowers sticking out of it.

Her pale yellow dress, so at odds with the browns and grays favored by current fashion, brushed the ground, lined with different colored trims; she had painted the skirts herself by hand, and there were fabric flowers haphazardly sewn from the waist to the hem.

The sleeves were just ribbons tied around the arms in a simple criss cross manner.

A pair of thin gold spectacles sat on the bridge of her slightly upturned nose, a tiny heart shaped birthmark marring the top of her right cheekbone.

To the denizens of Glenn, she was an oddity.

Even if they had gotten over the pink hair, she was too different to ever fit in.

And the truth of it was, Serena would never change herself to fit in with them either.

She would not dress simpler, in dull drab colors, or whatever fashion was popular in the city.

She would not tie her hair up in the proper little styles all the young ladies these days were fond of.

If that was the life she had wanted, she would have stayed with her family back in Leis.

While her aunt had been alive, it had not bothered her overmuch, but her death had hit her hard, and brought with it all the crushing realities that Serena had not let herself think about before.

She rubbed her arms feeling a slight chill in the air and took out her cloak from the bag she’d slung across her shoulders.

Fastening it over the hollow of her neck, she sent one last glance towards the pub doors and then trudged towards the Woods.