Bewitched, Bothered And Bewildered. Kerry Barrett

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СКАЧАТЬ beamed at me but I waved away her gushing thanks.

      ‘It’s late and I’m knackered,’ I said. ‘I’m off to my bed. We can talk about this tomorrow.’

      I kissed Mum briefly and touched Suky’s hand, then I climbed the stairs to my bedroom and pushed open the door. Turning on the light, I looked around. Mum hadn’t redecorated since I’d left home and my walls were still sponged peach and cream. I’d thought it was the height of sophistication when I was fifteen. Now it just looked twee. My bed was made up with the Take That duvet cover I’d discarded as childish when I was fourteen. I was half annoyed and half touched that Mum had looked it out for me.

      Knowing I’d regret it if I left it until the morning, I tugged my clothes out of my case and hung them up. My city clothes – I didn’t really do casual – looked out of place in the old-fashioned wardrobe. Then I pulled on my pyjamas and sat on the edge of my bed. It was strange to be home after so long, but somehow it already felt like I’d never been away.

      I picked up my phone and texted Dom, letting him know I’d arrived safely. I didn’t expect a reply and I didn’t get one so I switched off the phone and put it on my bedside table. And then I noticed the book. It sat squarely next to my bed and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before. Mind you, I thought to myself rolling my eyes, I couldn’t be sure it had been there before. The book was about the size of a school exercise book but much thicker. It was bound in aged brown leather and had no markings on the outside.

      Picking it up I noticed someone – Mum no doubt – had stuck a piece of paper inside, with a smiley face drawn on it.

      ‘Nice try, Mother,’ I said out loud. I plumped my pillows up, then wriggled under my duvet and sat back with the unopened book in my lap. I had butterflies in my stomach and my hands were trembling. I didn’t need to open it – I knew exactly what it was.

      It was a spell book. All witches have them. They’re heirlooms, passed down through families (mine had been left to me by my granny when she died. She left Harry an identical one; I suspect there’s a stockpile somewhere) and they’re supposed to be well cared for. It’s implied, ridiculous as it sounds, that they’re almost living things; a gateway to all sorts of magic, as well as a kind of logbook for successive witches to record their spells.

      ‘Books are wonderful, Esme,’ I remembered Mum telling me when I was small. ‘But they can be dangerous. Why do you think the Nazis burned them? Spell books are even trickier to handle. Treat it like a wild animal.’

      I’d gazed at her, wide-eyed.

      ‘Will it bite me?’ I’d asked.

      Mum had laughed.

      ‘Almost definitely not,’ she said. But she hadn’t looked very sure.

      ‘Generations of McLeod witches have added to this book,’ she said. ‘The magic in here is very strong. Use it wisely and treat it with respect.’

      With a flash of guilt I thought about how I’d actually treated it. I’d read it with Mum when I was a child, but when I hit my teens I’d cast it aside and abandoned it without a second thought when I’d left. Mum had clearly rescued it and kept it safe in case I ever needed it.

      With shaking fingers I picked up the book. It was cold and hard. I turned it over in my hands and smoothed the cover, and as I did so, something strange happened. I felt – and I know this sounds crazy – that the book recognised me. There was a sigh and suddenly the leather softened and warmed under my fingers.

      Reassured and freaked out in equal measures, I opened the first page. Whatever I thought about my dubious inherited talents, I knew I had to brush up on my spells – even if I wasn’t keen on being the Third. Apart from my magic being at best rusty and at worst unpredictable or even downright dangerous, I’d never agreed with my family’s bad habit of interfering in people’s lives without being asked – especially since I’d been on the receiving end of their meddling. But I knew the café couldn’t survive without my help and I owed it to Suky to do whatever I could. Even if all I could do was make a few sparks and probably a bit of a mess.

      So, even though I was apprehensive about facing my past, I decided to read my spell book and see how much I remembered. I blew the dust off the pages and settled down to read. Some of the pages were handwritten, some typed on an old-fashioned typewriter. Some had notes scribbled on them. There were even photos stuck in between some of the pages. It was fascinating, but it was late and my eyes were soon heavy with sleep so I put the book aside. I knew I had a lot of brushing up to do, but it could wait until morning. Realising I needed to get up again to switch off the light, I started to get out of bed, then, thoughtfully, I stopped.

      ‘May as well start as I mean to go on,’ I said to no one. And I waggled my fingers at the light instead. With a puff of acrid-smelling smoke, the bulb exploded and the room was plunged into darkness.

      ‘Oh dear,’ I thought as I snuggled under the duvet. ‘I definitely have a lot of work to do.’

       Chapter 6

      When I woke up the next day I felt oddly at home. Bright, frosty sunlight streamed through a gap in the thick curtains and I smiled to see that the rain had stopped – for now.

      Tugging my fingers through my sleep-tangled hair, I listened for signs of life. Downstairs I could hear the faint sound of Radio Four and murmured voices so I jumped out of bed, pulled on a jumper and a thick pair of socks – the house was never very warm – and headed towards the noise.

      Mum was in the kitchen alone. She was standing, reading The Guardian and chewing a slice of toast. I kissed her sleepily and sat down at the table. She plonked a mug of tea and a delicious-smelling muffin in front of me and I frowned. Normally I’d have done a workout at the gym by this time and such a calorie-laden treat wouldn’t have passed my lips. But it smelled so good. Maybe I could just have a taste.

      ‘What are you going to do today,’ Mum asked, as I finished my muffin and reached for another.

      ‘Don’t you need me to help you at the café?’ I said, through a mouthful of crumbs.

      Mum shook her head.

      ‘Get yourself settled first,’ she said. ‘I know you work hard in London – have a couple of days rest before you start toiling for us.’

      I smiled at her but I felt uneasy. How long was she expecting me to stay? I hadn’t considered being away from work for more than a fortnight. In fact, I’d not taken more than a week off in one go the whole time I’d worked for Lloyd & Lloyd.

      ‘Mum,’ I began, then stopped as Suky wandered into the kitchen. She looked thin in her chunky sweater but she had a wide smile on her face and she grabbed me in a tight hug.

      ‘It is so good to see you,’ she muttered into my hair.

      ‘You too,’ I said as she sat down opposite me and poured herself a cup of tea. I studied her carefully. She’d always been slender, but now her cheekbones stuck out and she had dark circles under her eyes. She’d wrapped a bright pink scarf around her head and, despite her pallor, looked exotic and mysterious like I remembered her from when I was a little girl.

      Suky saw me looking at her headscarf and flashed me a rueful СКАЧАТЬ