Page 20

She closed her fingers around a big handful of the dried flowers and then sprinkled them into the bath.

Temperance was sat cross-legged now on the sand, her eyes also closed.

Lee had never specifically spelt out a script of what each of them should think as they worked these rites to cleanse negative feelings: she insisted that each witch felt her own, unique way into her magic and all that mattered was that you focused, you meant what you said and you said it with a full heart.

She couldn’t tell what her sister was thinking exactly in this moment, but she knew that in her own way she was also showing the lingering sadness that it was time to move on, to let go.

Susie imagined herself opening the curtains to winter sunlight, putting the black shoes back in the cupboard, dusting a mantlepiece of treasured photos. She spoke to the images in her mind: These things have passed. We let go .

As her hand moved in one more complete circle, the images slowly faded to nothing like a swirl of paint from a brush disappearing into water.

Susie took a steadying breath, exhaling and releasing that memory from her mind and back into the universe.

She then gently lifted the shirt out. She carried it to a waiting towel and laid it down, smoothing the sleeves flat.

It felt different to handle now: reassuringly blank.

‘I’m ready for the next, Tee. What have you got?’

‘I’ll do it, you have a moment to yourself. There is a very angry but posh gilet that I want to have a go at. I think the boating crowd round here would snap it up at a chunky price.’

A thought of Mark rankled at the back of Susie’s mind and her own anger flared.

All that natural charm he had, his intellect, his knee-weakening kissing skills – and he chose to use them for evil.

They could have had something so special if only .

. . And what did it say about her, that she’d felt the deepest connection ever with a man who turned out to be a soulless corporate goon?

Not that she was going to give up and let him win, oh no.

‘Does it ever piss you off that we can only ever use our magic after the fact? Like, we come along and clear up the messes but we can’t step in before the mess is made.’

Temperance pulled on a glove to root around in the bag full of clothes. She looked up and to the right. ‘Sometimes. But I suppose I’ve just always thought it was pretty special that we are tuned into the magic at all. That we can feel things other people can’t.’

Susie’s shoulders hunched up. ‘Me too, me too. But . . . imagine if we weren’t just working around the emotions people have already had? What if we could influence what they’re about to feel?’

Temperance frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

Susie started stalking in circles, throwing little clouds of sand up with her heels.

‘I’m so . . . frustrated,’ she growled, ‘that I can see Mark is clearly up to something, but I’ve just got to watch from the sidelines.

I know he’s burning with ambition and that ambition is potentially going to change our village forever.

His family owns a property investment portfolio and the village will be on the market in two years – how much more proof do I need?

So what if I could wash that ambition away right now? ‘

Temperance blinked, the gilet now abandoned beside her. ‘How?’

‘Well . . . we know that some clothing holds on to strong emotions, and that can influence the next person that wears it. So if I could find a fisherman’s sweater, say, absolutely riddled with anxiety and self-doubt and misery, then maybe it would take the wind out of Mark’s sails a bit.

But it could take us years to come across just the right memory in the right kind of clothing to do the job.

And then he might not want to wear whatever it is.

I don’t know. What if . . . what if there was a way to put a feeling into something on purpose ? Exactly the feeling we need. And fast.’

‘I’ve never heard of anything like that before.’

‘Neither have I. But maybe we could email that person mum told us about, the one that might have some emergency magical answers?’

‘I’m not sure. It feels a bit dodgy, doesn’t it? Like we’re hypnotists tricking people into believing they’re chickens or whatever. Feels morally grey, Suse. And mum always told us never to cast – this feels dangerously close.’

Susie blew out her cheeks. ‘Saving our whole community is morally grey, really?! And – and if we managed that kind of magic,’ she pointed at her big sister, picking up momentum in her argument, ‘you could make sure Abel sticks around long enough for you to figure out this doom nightmare situation thing you’ve got going on.

Maybe smooth out some of his animosity towards the village so he doesn’t do a runner right after Margie’s party.

It would be useful, right? We need this. ’

Temperance sighed. ‘I’m still having the nightmares. I can’t be sure Abel still is, seeing as he’d rather dive into a shrub than talk to me, but they’re coming thick and fast. Every night. Sometimes when my mind drifts off in the day, too. Storms. Wildfires. Cracked glass. They feel so real .’

Susie threw her arms wide. ‘There you go then! Extraordinary times, extraordinary measures, right? We need some new tricks, babe. And fast. I’ll email tonight if you give me the address.’

Temperance took a moment to consider her sister. Twitching with nerves and worry, dull peachy shadows under her eyes from broken nights. She was hoping a trip down here might change the subject on loop in Susie’s mind, but clearly not.

‘No worries, I can do it. I need to ask about that sexy robe, anyway. And . . .’

‘And?’

Temperance uncrossed her legs and hugged her knees under her chin, looking out at the waves crashing into rolling lines of foam.

‘And I wanted to ask about the dreams too. I think . . . I think maybe I caused them, that night on the beach with you and Stevie. It’s a pretty big coincidence, don’t you think, that I chanted under a full moon and suddenly I’m haunted by a nightmare that won’t shift?

Plus, I’ve dragged my ex into exactly the same vision.

It can’t be a hangover anymore. It can’t be weird timing.

Maybe, what we did around the fire was .

. . casting. Mum always said it wasn’t something to muck about with.

I think I brought Abel here, Suse, and I brought this doom hanging over us.

Shit!’ she gasped. ‘Maybe the doom brought Mark here too!’

Susie’s eyes went wide. ‘Have you talked to Mum about it?’

‘How can I? How can I admit to her that the second she leaves me in charge, I go on some insane Single White Female rampage and meddle with magic I don’t understand?

Not exactly confidence-boosting. She always made us promise, remember, that we’d never try and cast. I’m not sure I can handle her knowing I’ve messed up like this. So maybe I’ll ask ‘F’ instead. ’

‘Mum didn’t give you their name?’

‘Nope, just the email: FEverything.’

‘Off topic but I wish that was my email address.’

‘Off topic but me too. So, I’m just going to casually drop them a line and ask about sexy satin robes, whether we can change someone’s current emotions, and whether I cursed my own village by wishing for a Goblin King boyfriend,’ she counted off on her fingers. ‘Super chill.’

‘Well, that’s definitely not a WhatsApp kind of convo. And in the meantime, what do we do?’

Temperance picked up the gilet again. ‘We keep going. Keep the shop open, keep avoiding Mark but watch him from a distance. Keep Abel safe and sound in the village. And try not to accidentally trigger any other waves of doom.’

She rustled around in the backpack for her lavender and basil. ‘For now I’ll do something positive with my Molland genes and take the frustrated male rage out of this thing.’