Page 48

Temperance decided that twenty-nine was no age to mope over a boy.

She’d spent the last three days either keeping to the house or the store, letting the loss of her powers plus her first big love wash over her, but enough was enough.

She’d avoided the pub for the longest stretch in her life – she didn’t need any gentle but needling questions about what had gone on with her and Abel, why she’d desperately yelled his name over the green in front of the entire community, why she walked back from the cliff with him that day soggy and bedraggled – not while it still felt so raw.

She had needed time to heal and think of a plausible lie.

In her sleepless hours last night, Temperance came up with the earth-shattering, ‘He’d left his phone on the bar and then I fell on some wet leaves. OK?!’.

But now was the time to get going again.

If Temperance avoided The Witch’s Nose any longer, Margie was bound to strut over and demand answers about what the chuff was going on with her.

Susie had been spending all of her time either doing shifts or drawing up poster designs for her surf competition, now she had sponsorship from a local holiday rental company.

She was either working or in her room ‘planning’ with Mark behind a closed door and Temperance didn’t really want to be around to accidentally overhear all those muffled giggles.

She’d face the music. Over some scampi and chips, and maybe a few bourbons.

She decided, as she was approaching thirty, that she’d level up her drinks choices from now on. Anyway, it’s not like she could accidentally get off her face and cast another doom-laden spell, not now her powers had gone.

As Temperance stepped into her trainers by the front door, she put her hand out for stability and her fingers grabbed hold of Susie’s denim jacket hanging on the wall.

A week ago, Temperance would have been able to shut her eyes and see Susie laughing so much at the pub that she temporarily ran out of breath.

Or swearing at the campers who’d left a carrier bag of rubbish out in the elements so now the seagulls had spread it over three counties.

She would have been able to read the good memories and the bad.

Now she just felt the thick cotton under her hand. And nothing else.

Temperance closed the front door behind her, immediately turning and pressing her forehead against the peeling paintwork. ‘He’d left his phone, I was just returning it. Then I slipped on some soggy leaves. That was it. Phone. Leaves. Done. Next subject.’ She whispered into the wood.

As stepped down from her doorstep, the sight before her made her wobble on one ankle and shove a hand into the ivy for support.

‘Abel?’

He was pacing up and down the road outside her garden gate, a battered brown leather briefcase swinging in his hand as he did so. Flinching at the sound of her voice, he stopped dead in his tracks.

‘Hi.’

‘Um, hi. I thought you’d . . . gone back to Bath?’

Abel put the briefcase down between his feet and stuffed his hands into his pockets. ‘Oh, yes. Well, after the airport.’

‘Airport?’

He cleared his throat. ‘Temperance . . . actually,’ he looked over both shoulders, ‘could we go inside? For some privacy.’

‘Susie and Mark are pretty together in there,’ she said. ‘Pub?’

‘Do you think we’d get much privacy under Margie’s nose?’

She nodded. ‘Fair point. There’s always . . . the bus stop, I suppose.’

He seemed to weigh this up, his head tipping left to right. ‘That seems right. Shall we?’

The sun had almost set into the sea as they walked at an awkward distance next to each other, to the old shelter. The sky was inky, with only tiny slivers of gold still stretched across it, while the swallows were noisily telling each other goodnight in the hedgerows.

Temperance perched on the wooden bench, swinging her legs back and forth for perhaps the millionth time in her life on this very spot. She pointed at the briefcase. ‘Did you pick that up at the airport?’

‘No, just my dad.’

‘Your dad?!’

‘Yup.’ Abel smiled. ‘Turns out when he said he wanted to see me, that night of the fire, he was already heading to a check-in desk. He and I had a chat. Have to admit I wasn’t sure at first whether I wanted to see him right away, but I figured he was as powerless in all of this as any of us.

So when he messaged me the flight details, I hopped in the van and drove off to London so I could meet him when he landed. ’

A shiver of happiness shot through Temperance’s heart. ‘Abel, I’m so happy for you! That’s . . . so brilliant.’

‘I’ve got you to thank.’ He nodded solemnly.

‘Dad and I . . . we’ve spent the last few days talking, letting go of some stuff, making plans.

He’s not going back to live there again – he’s going to find some work nearby eventually, slowly get back into East Prawle life.

I think he’s feeling pretty sheepish about suddenly turning up in the pub after all this time, having left us like that.

If only we could tell everyone that it was down to a centuries’ old curse, not to him being a total div. ’

‘That’s the thing about magic: it doesn’t make for the easiest small talk. But who cares what anyone else round here thinks – you’ve got him back, and that’s awesome. I hope I can meet him, when he does brave the pub again.’

Abel’s eyes locked onto hers. ‘I hope so too. The thing is, one of the reasons I was on the fence about going to pick him up was that I’d already decided to head back to Bath. Because when I went for that walk it took me all of five whole minutes to know what I wanted.’

Her heart went leaden behind her ribs. Was she really going to have to listen to how thrilled Abel was to have a clear, unjinxed heart at last so he could live an uncomplicated life in Bath, far away from magical complications and wedding dresses floating into enchanted fires?

Temperance concentrated on keeping her voice steady. ‘That’s good. Good for you.’

He sat down next to her, his body angled her way, their knees almost touching. Something about him seemed younger, somehow. His shoulders weren’t so rigid, his jaw wasn’t locked in a scowl. It was like the clock had gone back, all the way back.

‘I hope it will be. I got three paces out of the door when I knew it was you, Temperance Molland. I have always loved you. I love you so much that I kept far, far away from you because I thought it would save you pain.’ Abel ran his tongue over his lips.

‘It was you when we used to share salami sandwiches and complain about Mr Edgars in RE, right here.’ Abel rapped the wood with his knuckles.

‘It was certainly you on the floor of the cellar the other day.’ His eyebrows raised, and she blushed right up to her ponytail.

‘I had to keep you at arm’s length this whole time, when all I could think about was a million memories from growing up with you, and I wanted to ask what you’ve been doing, and if you were OK and who that smooth git on the dating app is – so I can go and let the air out of his tyres.

I was planning to get in my van that day, head to my flat, pack up all of my stuff and bring it back here, because I’m done with Bath.

’ He finally paused for a breath. ‘God, I’m absolutely bricking it.

But, Tee, I want what I’ve been denying myself for twelve years: I want a shot at taking you out, buying you dinner, maybe sneaking a kiss at the end of the night. ’

The blood was pumping in her veins like an illegal rave. ‘I think we might have skipped that part, back in the cellar.’

‘No, no, no. We’ll do this properly. Aftershave, best shirt, arguing about how we split the bill. Would you do that, Tee?’ His hand reached for hers now, gripping her fingers, his thumb rubbing against the centre of her palm.

‘Yes. Now?’ her voice squeaked hopefully.

‘I wasn’t thinking of right now ,’ he murmured, leaning slowly down, his lips pressing firmly against hers, his tongue following.

Temperance kept a hold of his hand in hers as they kissed, and moved her other to the back of his head, where Abel’s hair went soft. She didn’t want there to be any chance this could slip away from her again, or that it could all be a magical illusion: she was holding on tight.

He reached his free arm around her middle and pulled her in closer along the bench, effortlessly, without breaking contact.

A heat raced along her fingertips, through her hips and filled her head. It was like the sensations she used to feel when reading magic, but not one she’d ever felt during a kiss. It went deeper. Into her bones. It felt stronger.

Abel moved so he was kissing the side of her mouth, along her chin, down her neck. ‘I can’t stop,’ he breathed.

Temperance gasped, the throaty sound echoing around the stone walls. Unlike in her dreams, there was nothing handy for them to hide behind while they got closer, and a very real chance of being discovered. ‘Maybe . . . we should . . . find somewhere more private?’

He leant back just a few inches, a rugged smile moving across almost the whole width of his face. ‘I’m really going to enjoy getting to know the beyond-PG you.’

Temperance ran her finger over his stubble, noticing the flecks of gold amongst the darker brown. ‘The adult-rated Temperance has had a lot of thoughts about this. Well, dreams. And some of them took place in this bus shelter.’

His eyes went wide and a jolt of electricity hit her again. ‘Tell me.’

Heat sunk low down through her body, ending up at the top of her thighs. ‘It started innocent enough,’ she said between light kisses. ‘But then,’ her fingers skimmed over his crotch and the hard shape there, ‘I went looking for trouble.’

‘Holy shit.’ Abel laughed from deep in his throat and rested his forehead against hers.

‘Susie will still be home,’ Temperance said. ‘We could . . . talk more at the shop.’