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‘A witch.’

Temperance put one hand to her chin. ‘Yeah.’

Warm, dry and in her favourite pink joggers with the rainbow stripe up the side, she felt more like herself than she had in weeks.

The neckline on her Blondie T-shirt was still stretched out, her hair was pulled back into a bun so dishevelled it needed its own therapist, but she was at peace. At last.

Temperance rested her feet on the kitchen chair in front of her, and sipped more of her Irish coffee.

Margie had wanted them all to dry off by the pub fire with a round of whiskies, but Temperance knew she needed her own shower in that moment and to get out of clothes that involved a strapless bar, at the very least. All the party guests and villagers were still in shock about the Armageddon-themed afternoon: a thunderstorm, a random fire, three bedraggled women cartwheeling their way across the green to come home.

Abel insisted he see Temperance safely back, all ten steps of the way.

He’d waited silently downstairs while she got changed and was now drumming his fingers against his legs, leaning back on the counter top.

‘Like . . . eye of newt, leg of frog? A witch witch?’ His face was unreadable.

‘Not so much cackling, or the foraged proteins, but a witch.’

‘Like the kind of witch that hexed Jack Gulliver?’ His face was pale.

Temperance shook her head so hard she felt slightly dizzy.

‘No, no. We’d never curse anyone like that.

We’re into herbs and flowers, good memories.

We’ve just been quietly doing our thing under the radar.

’ Temperance had lived her adult life in fear of people knowing – especially people close to her.

But now that she’d brought Stevie into their witchy world and she’d offloaded the entire weird story to Abel, she felt oddly free.

No more shame. No more cold sweats of panic.

He deserved to know the whole truth after sharing his.

It would be up to him what he did with it.

‘Except for the part where you jinxed the whole village. Developers nearly swooped in. And you reversed a centuries’ old curse. That wasn’t so quiet.’

‘No.’ She gulped back the sweet coffee. ‘I’m sorry what I did brought you back here, against your will. I’m sorry you got dragged into all of this. But the curse is gone now – no more monk’s life for you.’

Abel held his bottom lip with his teeth. ‘I don’t feel different, though. Am I supposed to?’

Temperance shrugged. ‘Don’t know, sorry.

Never lifted a centuries’ old curse before.

There’s a first time for everything. But I felt something shift out there, in the flames.

I sort of . . . bartered for it. A trade-off.

And the storm certainly pissed off fast enough, so I’m taking that as a definite sign.

These last weeks I’ve looked at you and felt doom, but now,’ she took a pause to really study him, his drawn brows, his darkening stubble, ‘I feel nothing.’

‘Um, thanks, I guess,’ he muttered, his eyes widening. ‘It’s a lot to process. This has been hanging over me my whole adult life and now – if it really is gone . . .’ He pulled the purple bow tie out from under his shirt collar and laid it next to the kettle.

Temperance’s eyes fell to the tie. The Temperance of yesterday could have held it in the palm of her hand and read all the big emotions at war in Abel’s head right now, giving her a shortcut to understanding him that would otherwise take forty-eight hours of deep and meaningful talk.

Did he feel a whole new wave of revulsion knowing she was a witch?

Was all this stuff about powers and curses and sacrifices just too much, sending his head spinning?

The old Temperance could have held the tie and seen fear or despair or overwhelm or disgust. But using magic to jump to the front of the emotional queue hadn’t exactly done her many favours this summer.

She felt blank without her powers, and perhaps once the reality sunk in she’d grieve it deeply, but for now that blankness felt light and refreshing.

No one’s fate was resting on her. The past was no longer chasing her down.

Who knew if lifting the curse would change anything between her and Abel?

That wasn’t why she’d given her magic to dissolve it.

She’d done it because it was the right thing to do.

Now she knew he wasn’t living his life in a vice of shame and denial, she could rest easy. That felt like a gift in itself.

Besides, Abel had spent most of his adult life under a magical curse. He was hardly going to jump into the arms of someone born and bred a witch. And he had a life away from East Prawle. Magic spells didn’t tie all those things up in a neat bow .

He cleared his throat. ‘I suppose this means, I could—’

‘ABEL!’ came a shriek from outside.

He stood up straight in an instant and Temperance leapt to her feet. ‘Was that Gran?’

‘I think so.’

‘ABEL!’ came another shout, Margie’s voice breaking in between syllables. ‘Where are you, love?’

Temperance and Abel raced to the front door and down the steps. Abel took long, urgent strides to reach his Gran.

‘What’s happened, are you OK?’

Huge sparkling tears ran down Margie’s face, leaving track marks in her generous blusher.

‘OK? I’m not OK! I’m bloody marvellous! Your dad just called. Your dad . He wants to see you. Soon! He gave me his number so you can call him back, come on.’ She grabbed one of Abel’s hands and yanked him back towards the pub.

He looked back over his shoulder at Temperance as his gran hurried him along. His smile was almost wide enough to reach each ear, a haze of disbelief in his eyes. ‘You were right!’ he laughed. ‘Whatever you did really worked!’

Temperance watched them go, her heart feeling twice its size and full of bright white light. ‘Right. Definitely time for another drink.’ With a quick pit stop at home to dry her hair and throw on a bra and a jumper, she retraced Abel and Margie’s steps to the pub.

Temperance wanted to first find Susie when she entered The Witch’s Nose, but suddenly all she could see was fluffy white filling her vision and a bear grip around her ribs.

Diane was quietly sobbing into Temperance’s shoulder. ‘Thank you, thank you,’ she whispered into her ear .

‘Huh?’

‘I don’t know what you did, but it worked, clearly. Abel’s getting his dad back! They talked for a little while and now Abel’s having a walk to clear his head. A lot to take in, you know. Plans to make.’

‘Of course. I can’t even imagine. But you know,’ Temperance studied the tops of her slippers as if a convincing get-out was embroidered on them along with the bunny face and ears, ‘I didn’t do anything, did I? Just one of those random things.’

Diane’s glittering eyes narrowed. ‘Three women go and chant around a fire and suddenly something miraculous happens.’ Temperance opened her mouth to suggest the hog roast had been spiked and they’d just spent two hours in a mass hallucination, but Diane held up a silencing hand.

‘I don’t need the details. To be honest, I’m not sure I can handle them.

Just take my thanks and blessings. If that’s what you’re into.

You won’t combust near a cross, will you?

No, no, I don’t want to know. We’re doubly back into party mode now so park your beautiful bum down and I’ll get you a stiff one. ’

Diane skipped off to the bar before Temperance could tell her what she’d like in her glass. But Temperance was feeling altogether too zen to think twice about it. The doom was gone. The party was still in force. Susie and Stevie were safe. She could just enjoy herself.

A flash of red caught her attention and Temperance saw Susie’s Converse poking out of the snug.

Temperance slid around the corner, through the narrow doorway, her arms reaching into a showbiz wave, and started belting out, ‘ I put a spell on youuu— ’ At Susie’s snort of laughter, she stopped herself short. ‘Oh, hey Mark. Didn’t know you were coming. ’

Mark had a massive grin across his face, one leg resting on the opposite knee. ‘Please don’t stop! I felt like I was at a Vegas cabaret. It was awesome.’

‘Ha! Um, a family inside-joke.’

‘And then some.’ Susie nodded. ‘Mark wanted to come earlier but couldn’t take his rig out because of the freak weather blip that we had.’ Her eyes drilled into her big sister’s.

‘Yeah, wasn’t that insane? I’ve been sailing here since I was about eight or nine and I’ve never seen anything like it. This intense pocket of low pressure, a proper thunder storm, all been and gone in half an hour. Bonkers.’

‘Bonkers,’ the Molland women said in unison.

Susie pointed at the stack of printouts spread out on the table before them.

‘Mark wanted to show us how far he is with the process. He’s filing it – himself – tomorrow.

’ She rubbed his arm. ‘Plus, he realised he forgot his leather jacket last time when he was here. Don’t suppose you’ve seen it have you, Tee?

’ If Susie had ever toyed with the idea of a career in panto, now was the time for her to apply for her equity card.

‘Erm, yes, you know. I have. I . . . found it . . . somewhere. And took it back to the shop for safekeeping. Shall I go and grab it now?’

‘I don’t want to put you out, Temperance. Sit down and have a drink first.’

‘It’s no bother. It’ll feel good to have one more thing ticked off my list today. Back in a sec.’

Temperance was just switching off the shop lights ten minutes later, Mark’s jacket under her chin, when she saw Abel coming out of the back door of the pub.

Maybe he’s finished his walk and he’s ready to talk some more ?

But he was carrying a holdall and striding away from the shop now. Towards his van.

Temperance watched, her breath trapped in her lungs, as he started the engine and drove away.

At least one thing was certain now: this wasn’t a curse controlling Abel Gulliver. He was leaving East Prawle again, of his own free will.