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Temprance felt her cheeks boil bright red as Margie rejoined them.

‘Diane!’ she remonstrated. ‘You’ve no need to worry about that.

Temperance is absolutely thriving. Waiting for a catch of the right calibre to come in, OK?

’ She raised her chin towards her daughter, a tiny movement that seemed to put an end to that line of questioning.

‘Of course.’ Diane stepped back again. ‘Pour me a wine, woman, and stop your harping.’ The tense moment passed and Temperance exhaled.

‘If you’re all set, I’ll head off, Margie. I need to dig something purple out of the stockroom for myself.’

The older woman shooed her hands towards the door. ‘Yes, off you trot. See you tomorrow in your glad rags – it’s going to be a hoot!’

Temperance left Try Again closed to the public for most of the day, letting Stevie have a quiet mooch around on the shop floor as she uploaded some more pieces on eBay, trying her very best to pick up ‘vibes’ from the stock.

Maybe it wasn’t the greatest sense of hustle for a new manager, but after everything that had happened over the last few days she felt brain-fried, and not exactly in the mood to politely shoo away the hands of sandy children from their fanciest items, as they loudly complained that their mothers were taking too long in ‘the most boring shop on the planet’.

But they’d come around. Give it ten years and they’d be back as teens, begging that same mum to buy them some eighties Wranglers or a late nineties Stussy T-shirt in perfectly oversized proportions.

After a huge plate of scrambled eggs on toast at home and two Diet Cokes for a caffeine boost, Temperance dragged her weary bones down to the shop as afternoon mellowed into evening.

She let her fingers trail over the rough stone wall of the bus stop as she went by, passing equally weary holidaymakers as they returned from the beach, their hair crisp with dried saltwater, their skin flushed and glowing.

Sometimes it was easy to forget what a special place she lived in, especially in the off season when it was deserted and cold.

But when you came across someone new to the village drinking in the rows of pastel-painted houses, the flit of a swallow darting between hedgerows, or happily bedding down for an afternoon pint in the pub, it was a useful reminder to be glad to be in Devon, every single day.

They weren’t going to let anyone tear down East Prawle and replace it with holiday apartments that locals couldn’t afford, whatever it took.

And Temperance wasn’t going to let the doom take hold of the place either.

She blinked as she reached the shop door. She hadn’t had the dream again, not since she went back to the beach with Susie, when Stevie had rumbled them. But the reverse casting had been interrupted, so she couldn’t be sure it had truly taken hold.

Temperance closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips together, trying to listen to what was in her head. Could she feel that tinge of doom and gloom to everything still? Maybe. Or was she just imagining it now, because it had been all she could think about for the past week?

She might have said enough to release Abel before Stevie found her: there was a tiny chance it might have worked.

And in that case, all she had to do was get through Margie’s birthday tomorrow and life could go back to normal.

Susie and Mark would keep the village safe with a heritage order.

Stevie would be their happy coven apprentice.

Abel would go back to Bath. And to Cass.

Which was great. And Temperance would focus on running Try Again, maybe swipe right a little bit when she felt ready. Yup, normal.

She opened her eyes and pushed her way into the store, the little bell tinkling overhead.

‘Just me!’ she called out to Stevie. ‘Got to grab something purple.’ Temperance’s eyes scanned the rails where she remembered putting the ‘ladette’ T-shirt back.

She wasn’t sure she’d wear it herself but Susie might, and Margie would definitely get a kick out of it.

The exhaustion was so deep in her bones that she just needed something, anything , quickly, then she’d head back home for a very early night.

But it wasn’t where she could have sworn she left it.

Maybe another guest had nabbed it without her knowing?

‘Stevie, have you seen . . .?’

‘Ta da!’ Stevie pushed a rail on wheels before her, swinging with all the purple garments Try Again had, from light lilac to rich royal plum.

‘Margie told me the theme yesterday. She also said I could come along as long as I didn’t “hog the hog”, but I think she just liked the joke.

I don’t think she knows I’m hardcore veggie.

But a barbeque on a village green feels like another thing to tick off my English bingo sheet.

Anyway, I started collecting a few pieces and then it became this kind of compulsive treasure hunt and .

. .oh god, have I screwed up? Are these, like, magically problematic or something? ’

Temperance realised her face must have gone blank. But not from shock or disgust, just a very tired form of relief. ‘No, no, it’s great. It’s perfect, in fact. Thank you, Stevie. I’m really grateful. Now if I can just find that T-shirt . . . it’s got a slogan on it, did you come across it?’

Stevie’s mouth formed a tight O of shock.

‘Not the ‘ladette’ one?! Come on, Temperance Molland! You are not only a gorgeous young woman and a talented witch, but you are a studied dealer of fine vintage items and a small business manager. You cannot go out there to a special event in a ‘ ladette’ T-shirt.’ She shuddered.

‘You’re your own advertising, after all.

You’ve got to sell the shop, sell the dream of vintage.

The lifestyle!’ Her eyes sparkled and she raised up onto her toes for a moment.

‘I do?’ With about three percent of her battery left, Temperance would have just been happy to scrape up her unwashed hair into a purple scrunchie and call it a day.

‘Damn straight you do.’ Stevie nodded. ‘There is something here I think you’re going to love. I found it in a box from that shipment you and Susie have been working through, so I don’t know if it has . . . bad karma you might need to work on, but I really hope not.’

‘Please be jogging bottoms, please be jogging bottoms,’ Temperance mumbled as Stevie turned to the railing.

‘Not in my name! it might need some clever underwear to go with it, but it will be totally worth it.’

Temperance groaned. ‘Seriously, Stevie I am—’

She was planning on saying she was out. But then she saw the dress. The lightest lilac gingham with a sweetheart neckline going into a halterneck, and what looked like a very fitted pencil skirt. ‘Oh my.’

‘Oh my is right! Eeeek! Don’t you love it?! I just feel in my bones that it’s your size. Like it’s meant to be . And you can’t say that’s not a thing because you know magic is real. This is pure magic in dress form. Please please pleeeease try it on.’

Temperance didn’t need the flutter of the lashes: she was already sold.

‘OK. But just ignore the fact I haven’t shaved my legs in a fair while.’

Stevie shrugged. ‘Who has the time. Or the motivation. You could be growing lime-green body hair a foot long in this outfit and no one would notice because it will cinch your waist and push out your boobs to perfection.’

Temperance held her breath as her hand reached out and fabric started to move towards them.

There was the prickle in her fingertips as she closed her eyes and listened closely in her mind’s eye.

Would it be cloaked in sadness and sorrow?

Would it be tied up in anger and revenge?

She could totally see someone using a dress this killer to serve a cold plate of vengeance on an ex.

There was nothing. Blissful nothing. It seemed nothing seismic had ever happened to someone wearing this dress and Temperance was eternally grateful.

‘Well?’ gasped Stevie, and Temperance realised she wasn’t the only one waiting on tenterhooks for the reading.

‘All good. Totally empty of any big memories. Phew.’ She smiled easily for the first time that day.

Stevie squeezed her dainty hands into excited fists. ‘Then you’ll be the one to leave your important imprint. And while you’re feeling good, any chance of another staff discount on the rainbow sequin mini?’