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The white paper tablecloths fluttered in the light, August breeze as Margie surveyed the green. ‘That’ll do, Pig, that’ll do,’ she said to Temperance and Susie who both – unknowingly – rolled their eyes in perfect synchronicity.

Along with Abel, Gary, Praveen and a few Witch’s Nose regulars, they had laid out four trestle tables end to end down the grass this morning and then had spent a good hour ‘prettying it up’ as Margie had ordered.

Abel had collected all the glass ramekins from the kitchen and filled them with tea lights; Gary had gently laid his own granny’s embroidered napkins into wicker baskets for the bread rolls later (which he’d now gone home to finish baking).

The Molland sisters had been dispatched with some secateurs and a bucket to the wildflower meadow at the top of the cliffs so that they could put together some sweet, organic arrangements in jam jars along the table tops.

‘And free,’ Margie had wagged her finger.

‘If I’m getting closer to my pensionable age, I’ve got to watch that income, my loves.

You can’t eat flowers so I’m not paying for them. ’

Temperance had wanted any job but that one, having been haunted by the idea of this very wildflower field burning to a crisp all week.

Her nails scratched at her palms incessantly as they walked along the path and Susie had told her to go home – reading her mood, her worries – but Temperance was determined to see this through.

The nightmare hadn’t crept up on her again, so it was high time she unclenched and learned to live in her village normally now.

No more twitching at the sight of one white cloud, no checking for the nearest fire extinguisher.

And now Margie’s table was blooming with poppies, rock roses and marigolds. It would definitely do.

‘Like your twelfth birthday,’ a voice said behind Temperance. With a flinch she turned around.

‘Abel. Didn’t see you there.’

‘Oh I remember!’ Susie piped up. ‘You were having this weird Famous Five obsession that summer and you wanted us to have lashings of ginger beer and honey sandwiches as a picnic on the green. Cake and strawberries. Mum found that massive tablecloth and we all wore bows in our hair.’

‘I didn’t,’ Abel said gruffly.

‘No.’ Susie raised her eyebrows. ‘But you set up the treasure map so we could pretend to chase down some ruffians who’d stolen the, I don’t know, crown jewels or something.’

‘The church candlesticks,’ he said through a sigh.

‘Oh, yes.’ Temperance kept her eyes on the horizon, watching the seagulls riding the warm air.

She needed to fix her eyes on anywhere but Abel Gulliver right now.

If she turned and saw him being cool and dismissive about one of her favourite childhood memories, she might just cry.

She’d been so exhausted by the past week that she felt more thin-skinned and vulnerable than ever .

Diane approached them from the pub, carrying two mugs. ‘Teas are up inside. Brought yours out, Marge.’

‘Thanks, love.’

‘What are we talking about?’

Susie grinned. ‘The time Miagi set up that elaborate treasure hunt for Tee’s birthday party, when she was twelve.

He made maps for us all and stained them with old tea bags, remember, Abe?

Singed the edges with your lighter, Diane, and got a bollocking.

And then the candlesticks we had to track down turned out to be made out of loo rolls covered in tin foil. ’ She snorted a laugh through her nose.

‘Hey, that was some Blue Peter level stuff!’ A smile cracked into Abel’s stubbled cheeks. ‘And it’s not like I used sticky-backed plastic. It was all recycled materials. I hid them in a cave at the back of the beach. They’d gone soggy by the time you read the map.’

‘It was special. I’m glad you remembered it at last,’ Temperance added finally, her eyes still averted. Her heart had gone from being shrunken with vulnerability to almost filling her chest with pleasure. He remembered .

‘Right,’ Diane spoke up quickly, ‘Abe, you get back inside now, babe. There’s a love. Plenty to do. And we shouldn’t keep the girls from getting ready, making themselves presentable. Off you go, come on now.’ She virtually shooed him off the grass and back to the pub.

A look passed between mother and son and he shook his head ever so slightly, a flush creeping up his neck.

‘Ohhhkayy,’ Susie drawled. ‘Nothing more you need us for, Margie?’

‘No, all set. See you at 12.30, you pair of scrumpets.’

Temperance shrugged at Susie and they walked off, arms linked.

A good strapless bra could do the work of ten men, keeping cleavage supported and bouncy and at just the right level.

The bra Temperance had finally found at the back of Susie’s underwear drawer seemed pretty substantial: some sturdy underwiring and three hook-and-eye fastenings.

Crucially, it couldn’t be seen while she wore the lilac halter and Temperance felt a lot more relaxed about the whole outfit now she could be sure nothing deeply private would escape from it.

What this bra couldn’t handle, seemingly, was changing a beer barrel.

Temperance and Susie had been at the bar, assembling the first drinks orders of the guests at Margie’s BBQ.

‘Oh balls,’ Susie hissed. ‘This barrel’s nearly finished. I’ll have to change it. Could you finish the G&Ts for me? I’ll be ten minutes or so.’

‘Sure.’ Temperance’s phone buzzed on the bar and she picked it up.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Earth to Temperance . . .

Lovely girl, how is it going? I haven’t heard from you again. Did you go back to the beach? I realise you could be ghosting me for several reasons:

Your mum has heard we’re needlessly communicating and has hit the roof and hexed you silly, even from afar.

You sorted your magical snafu and are now busy living a beautifully balanced life without need of my witterings.

Or, it’s all gone so horrifically wrong that your whole village has combusted and you’ve no means to brush your teeth, let alone send an email to an old witch.

I must say I am dying to know which one is closest . . .

If for whatever reason you don’t want to reply, let me say one last thing: magic is a gift, but that doesn’t mean all we do is take from it.

We witches can receive and intuit power that passes most people by, but we have to give back to that power – recharge it – to keep the balance around us in check.

It’s like a cashpoint, maybe: you can go and take out enough money to make you feel filthy rich, but it’s your own account you’re running dry. And eventually you’ll be in its debt.

You inadvertently took something big from the magic world, asking for a true love to be plonked down in front of you. And now it wants something big in return. I’m not trying to put you off the witch’s life, my dear, but it’s a relationship, like anything else. It takes work, it takes sacrifice.

Let me know if I can help.

Your friend,

F x

Temperance blinked at the words as they settled into her brain. She owed F a proper reply, a full explanation of everything that had been happening. Once the party was over, she would take the time to write a thoughtful response.

Just as Susie went to swing through the kitchen doors and head down to the cellar, a woman with a high ponytail and a Breton striped top burst through the pub’s front door. ‘Could someone help me? I’m totally lost and my car’s GPS has no signal here.’

‘I’ll point you back to the big road. It’s easier if I draw you a map and point out some landmarks, follow me.’ Susie grabbed an order pad and pen, and headed outside with the stranger.

And so here Temperance was, five minutes later, flushing out the beer barrel line with cold water and working the pump to clear it through.

A job she’d done enough times in the past to help Margie or Susie out on a quiet evening that she could do it with her eyes closed.

But right now she had her eyes very much open and vigilant to the fact that the vigorous pumping action was testing the elastic limit of her bra and squeezing her boobs together in an almost cartoonish way.

Thankfully there was no one else around to see it.

‘My god.’ Abel’s voice was a half-breath half-cough and Temperance stood up quickly and awkwardly, bracing herself for the criticism he was surely about to deliver. What had she done wrong this time?

He blinked rapidly, closed the heavy oak door behind him and then knelt down to take over the job. ‘Gran wondered what was taking so long with the drinks. I couldn’t find anyone at the bar, or in the kitchen.’

‘Oh, sorry. Susie had to nip out to help a lost grockle.’

‘You can’t do this on your own.’

Temperance bristled. ‘I can . I have plenty of times over the last twelve years, it’s just you weren’t around to see it. ’

Abel exhaled through his nose. ‘What I meant was that it should always be done in a pair, just in case. These full ones are bloody heavy, you know.’

She fiddled with the halter at the back of her neck. ‘Yes. Right.’

‘I don’t mind helping.’ He started up the pump work, producing much less jiggle than Temperance had in the same position.

There was an awkward five minutes of silence between them, as old beer spluttered into the ice cream tub at their feet.

‘What did Margie think of your outfit?’ Temperance asked tentatively.

He smiled wryly. ‘Loved it. Said she’s thinking of making it the new bar staff uniform.’

She laughed with relief. ‘I’d like to see that. And I wouldn’t mind the commission.’

‘Not that it will really affect me,’ he went on. ‘I’m back to Bath with Mum tomorrow. Back to normal life.’ He pronounced the word normal clearly and definitely, as if it was some kind of warning.

‘I think the line’s clear now,’ Temperance mumbled, the wind taken out of her sails. Abel untwisted the pipe and moved over to the new barrel. ‘Could she not make it then: Cass?’