Page 36

The sun laid the most gentle kisses of warmth on Temperance’s cheeks as she stretched out on the green, her toes pushing down into the worn-soft beach towel underneath her.

It was the same beach towel she’d used her whole life: Mickey Mouse on a surfboard, grinning madly, his primary colours now faded from a thousand hours of bright sunshine.

It had been the towel she and Lee had taken down with them to the sea when she was a pudgy toddler, and the same towel she’d shoved into a record bag when she was let loose on her own to wander down there with mates.

It had been so embedded with happy memories of Abel – sharing a single Calippo as the sun set, playing beach cricket with Clara, Helen, Tim and the others, sketching out plans that the whole gang would apply to Exeter Uni so they could stay together.

Forever. It was so tightly packed with these glowing memories that Temperance had used it in her first ever solo magic washing, a few months after Abel left.

To try to pretend to herself that they never had been so close, so content.

‘You know we have a beach for sunbathing, like, just down there?’ Susie’s shadow suddenly turned the heating off.

‘I know. But Abel doesn’t surf on the green, so I’m safest here.’

‘Aha. Still awks between you?’

‘Like you wouldn’t believe. Got the skinny on his girlfriend, though.’

‘Ohh,’ Susie breathed. ‘That must suck.’

Temperance rolled her shoulders. ‘You can’t really expect someone who wants to puke after kissing you to stay celibate all their lives.

Apparently, he “doesn’t do” relationships, so nice to know he’s grown up into a proper male stereotype, eh?

I bet he has a string of girls all over Bath, pining for a grumpy, near-silent date with him.

Maybe I should move to a big city permanently to find love.

Maybe that’s what the doom is trying to show me – Abel got out and finds women, maybe that’s how I need to do it? ’

Susie turned out her bottom lip and Temperance squeezed her little sister’s leg briefly.

‘Only kidding. Besides, that’s not the kind of love I’m after. Something beyond two weeks. A forever kind of situation.’

‘Eurgh. No thanks. I’m glad I’m not old yet.’

Temperance moved to a swift pinch instead.

‘Ouch!’

‘Any word from Mark? Another fifteen texts per hour and invites to The Crab Shack?’

Susie smiled smugly. ‘Not so much as a DM. And he’s not been back to the pub. We sent him deep inside his shell, Temperance Molland. We are a right pair of crafty witches.’ She put her hand out, down by her knees, for a congratulatory high five.

‘Amazing. So we’re safe – the village is safe? ’

Susie narrowed her eyes, looking out at the impossibly blue sky over the sea.

‘Not necessarily. I might have taken the wind out of Mark’s sails, but Beston aren’t the only developers out there.

We need to keep our eyes open. The Parish Council are doing their best but .

. . they need help.’ She put her fists to her hips.

‘We’re not going to have to cast on all their clothes, are we?!’

‘No, you tit!’ Susie laughed. ‘I’m going to join them! Join the council. Add my skills in the non-magical way. Distribute leaflets and rant about things on Facebook. Get my Boomer on.’

‘Oh my God!’ Temperance choked on her laughter.

‘What?!’

‘There you were, saying you’re not looking for long-term commitments and in the next breath you’re on the Parish Council? Don’t get me wrong: I’m all for it. I love that you’re throwing yourself into something. It’s just . . . new. Good for you, Suse.’

‘It is good for me, isn’t it? I’m going to get us both a scoop of honeycomb to celebrate, seeing as mum can’t needle us for having ice cream before lunch.’

Temperance smiled. ‘I’m pretty sure she hasn’t done that since we both left school, but OK. I’ll have a waffle cone, please.’

She settled on the towel again, pulling her sunglasses down from the top of her head and grounding herself in the sounds of East Prawle: the low rumble of a distant tractor engine, the seagulls ever-watchful for a dropped chip to swoop on, laughter and happy shrieking from the gardens of the pastel-coloured holiday cottages.

The twitch of doom still hovered around the edges of her mind, as it had ever since that bonfire on the beach with Stevie and Susie, but she decided that could wait for the morning. She needed chilling time. She needed deep breaths. To switch off. To relax.

The brambles cut into her face as she pushed through the woods, the splice of lightning suddenly turning the whole world white.

She could hear them shouting – pleading – for help, just ahead.

She had to keep going. Thunder. Rain pouring down her cheeks.

And in her nose the acrid smell of burnt leaves, burnt flower buds.

The wildflowers. The wildflowers were nearly all gone.

She had to get to them. To put it all right.

***

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Re: Help again! PLEASE

Temperance – describe to me exactly what this beanie looked like. I’m very serious.

F x

Temperance sipped her first coffee of the day, frowning at the laptop screen. Why was F so concerned about her beanie? She typed out a reply with one hand, the other still wrapped around her mug .

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Re: Help again! PLEASE

It’s one my mum knitted for me when I was a kid. It has these big, chunky bobbles all around it, in a cable pattern. Miraculously, it still fits and I keep it around for emergency Devon downpours in the winter or, as it turns out, late night beach spell-casting . . .

Temperance had started frying some eggs a few minutes later when her laptop pinged with a reply.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Re: Help again! PLEASE

Your mum didn’t knit that hat. I did. I made it for her when she fell pregnant with you.

I wanted to make her something special. I unwound something unique I’d been keeping.

It was a jumper from the first woman to climb Everest: it had the most fearless energy I had ever felt with my powers.

Bold, ready for anything, incredibly strong.

I enchanted the yarn with a few other things, a bit like a fairy godmother, I suppose, so you would always have a connection to the magic you’d come from.

With a bit of a fiddle, I managed to cloak that magic so your mum would never know it was there, or you in time.

I knew she wouldn’t want my help, in whatever form it came in.

It was supposed to be a baby hat, but I’m not so good at following knitting patterns (too much like maths homework, if you ask me) so it came out all baggy. I never knew if your mum liked it, let alone used it for you. Seeing as we haven’t spoken in all this time.

That must be why the spell amplified in the way it did, and why you couldn’t reverse it the other night: because you weren’t wearing the beanie.

You’ll have to try it AGAIN, Temperance.

With the hat, with the Malibu, and take your sister too – she was there that night.

You can’t leave any magical stone unturned.

The frying pan spat an angry drop of hot oil onto Temperance’s wrist. ‘Fuck,’ she whispered, barely feeling the pain.

***

‘Fuck!’

‘Chug it down, Tee! Jesus, it’s just a bit of rum. What is a small hangover compared to removing a jinx over our heads?!’

Temperance could feel the sand whipped up by the dawn’s blustery wind getting between the silk bodice and her ribs, scratching and tickling her with every slight move she made.

She held the glass bottle up to the weak light.

‘I know, I know! I just wish it didn’t have those bits floating in the bottom.

Ugh. Fine.’ She put her lips to the rim and swallowed two gulps, retching slightly as she came up for air .

‘Big baby,’ Susie muttered, passing her a water bottle.

‘Could I get a bit of support here, or what?! I know this whole thing is my mess, but I’m also bricking it that I’m not going to be able to clean it up. Now: checklist.’

Susie bit her lip. ‘Wedding dress, check. Robe tie, check. Beanie – with hidden magical powers apparently – check. All inside out, check. Malibu, campfire, beach, sunrise. What else did we do that night?’

‘Stevie was there.’

‘Yeah, but she can’t have contributed to it, can she? Being normal and everything.’

‘Good point. So . . . we held hands and danced around the fire,’ Temperance said reluctantly.

‘We were such tools.’

‘We are such tools. Come on.’ Temperance clambered up off the beach towel, feeling several layers of lace and boning plus the fate of her community pulling at her shoulders.

She scrunched up her fingers and let her magic take some of the weight.

‘We just need to do this, and mean it. Abel needs to be free to go home and go back to Cass.’ She shivered.

‘It’s a cold one today.’ She put out her hands, after relaxing her grip and dusting them off on the ivory skirt.

Susie took them and held firmly. ‘I’ll mean it, all right. I’m taking no chances when it comes to our home, or the pub. And you’re going to really mean it too, right?’ She gave her big sister a hard stare.

‘What does that mean?’

‘No lingering hope that if Abel hangs around for longer, that he might remember the good old days more, warm up a bit, forget all about Bath and Karen . . .’

‘It’s Cass. And God no, Suse! He needs to be gone, for both our sakes. I want him gone.’

Susie nodded. ‘OK. Good. Just checking. So, what did we say last time?’

‘It’s too much of a blur. I think we should keep it short and sweet. Punchy, to the point.’

Susie looked up to the sky striped with powdery blue and baby pink, the sun starting to feel its way into the morning air. ‘Abel Gulliver we release you.’

‘Perfect.’ Temperance started moving clockwise around the fire, forcing Susie to amble into the dance too.