“I’m scared of her.”
“We’re all scared of her, but she’s not that bad – not really.”
He laughs at my unconvinced expression and pats my hand. “Honest.”
He grabs some food and I touch my hand, where he touched me. It’s an unconscious gesture, and then I realise what I’m doing, and cough, embarrassed. What’s the matter with me? It’s like I’ve never been around a good looking boy before.
And I have.
I pour myself some more pep and take a drink, watching him. What is it about him? He grins at me and I take a big drink, choke and then cough again. I shake my head and feel myself blush. I’m acting like a right idiot and I need to rein it in.
I take a toffee and refuse to look at him for a while.
The door opens and my stomach flips. Fletcher’s mother is smiling, but trailing behind her, her sister, and the evil twins are not.
The three of them look ready to murder me. The twins sit and his aunt leans against the counter. She’s changed into pyjamas, but still looks ridiculously glamourous. “I’m Ember. Fletcher’s aunt. I gather you know the girls?”
I nod. I can feel the girls staring at me, and I daren’t look at them. Instead I keep my eyes down and pull at the skin by my fingernails.
Then they talk about me like I’m not here, which I suppose I may as well not be. I have no idea what to do. I might have caused this – accidently – but I have no idea how to fix it.
I had no idea witches or vampires or shifters or fairies were real – I thought they were just characters from books and films, but apparently not.
And now I’m a witch as well.
How the hell am I supposed to process this?
Ember keeps calling me the accident and I’m trying not to bristle. I don’t want to set off some angry magic, but she’s so rude.
Fletcher is sticking up for me, and every now and then I risk looking at him. I wonder if we would have witch babies or human ones. Then I feel myself blush and I refuse to look at him again.
I’m caught in an embarrassing thought loop, and then I hear my name, followed by a long pause. I look up, and they are all staring at me. “Sorry?” I have tuned out completely from this conversation – unable to follow most of what they are talking about. How they expect me to keep up, I have no idea.
8
FLETCHER TOUCHES ELLIS on her arm. “We were just wondering if you had any ideas. We think it would be good to keep you here for a while, till we figure this out, but you can’t just leave home.”
“For how long?”
“A week. Two would be better.”
“College trip.” She speaks but her voice sounds strange, she coughs and tries again. “What if we pretend I’m going on a college trip.”
“That’s a brilliant idea,” Fletcher says. “We could easily implant a memory for your parents, print off the letters and an itinerary. What A levels are you doing?”
“History, French and English.”
“Easy – a trip to Paris.” Fletcher is beaming.
“I’ve always wanted to go to Paris,” Ellis says, looking pleased to have come up with a good idea.
The look Ember gives her is withering. “You know you’re not actually going anywhere, don’t you? You’ll be here, where you can’t do any harm, until we figure out how to fix you.”
“Shush now, Ember – you make it sound like Ellis will be a prisoner here.” Elodie turns to her and takes her hand. “This is a mistake, lovely, but it’s ours. We have to keep you safe while we sort this out. You won’t be a prisoner; you’ll be a very welcome guest. Won’t she?”
Ember shrugs, refusing to commit. Elodie turns back to Ellis and smiles, as warmly as she can. “It’ll be okay. I promise you. Girls, go and find a flight to Paris going tomorrow, get all the details, make a letter from college – proper letter head, and an itinerary. This is perfect. It’ll give us the time we need.”
Thea and Talia do as they’ve been told, even though they don’t look happy about it. Ember follows them out of the room.
Elodie gives Ellis a sympathetic look and takes a deep breath. “Please excuse my sister. She’s scared. We all are. This ceremony was a huge deal, not just to us, but the whole community. My husband was the head witch before he died – it’s a big responsibility. We’ve been preparing Fletcher for years. The fact that we have authority – to an extent – over the other species means that they’ll be extremely unhappy if they find out about you. It’s also a breach of our security, so the other witches won’t be happy, either. Basically, it’s not far off a catastrophe. Lincoln, the man who performed the ceremony seems to think there’s nothing we can do, but we are going to try.”
Ellis listens intently to Elodie and shakes her head. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s absolutely not your fault. It’s whoever failed to form the protective circle properly.”
“What if we can’t fix it? What if I stay a witch?”
“I have no idea. But it won’t be good.”
The silence is thick and then Elodie gives Fletcher a pat on his shoulder. “I’m going to see how the girls are doing. Such a good idea – well done, Ellis.”
They are silent when she goes, and then Fletcher speaks out. “I promise to protect you from Ember and the girls.”
“Your cousins scare me. So does your aunt. But those two. Have you seen The Shining?”
Fletcher laughs out loud. “Yes!”
“Right?”
“I feel wrong for laughing when we’re in the middle of such trouble.”
“Sorry. But they are scary.”
“They’re alright. They’re harmless, really.”
“I know more than one girl who’s dropped out of college because of them.”
“Really?” Sadly, Fletcher isn’t that surprised. He knows they can be a nightmare. “I didn’t know that.”
“Why would you? You’re not responsible for them.”
“It bothers me though. They always tease me for being too nice, too kind, too good. Now I know why.”
“How can anyone be too nice, too kind, too good?”
“I suppose they don’t think I take advantage of my magic.”
“I think it’s nice to be nice.”
“Really? I thought girls all liked bad boys?”
“Maybe in books or films. In real life, we all want the same thing. Someone nice and kind and good.”
They lock eyes and the silence between them grows, crackles.
Fletcher coughs, breaking the spell. “Here-” He passes her a toffee and takes one himself.
Elodie comes back in the room. “All done – we’ve added a page to the school website, with a special link that we’ve put in the letter. We have the letter, an itinerary and an explanation about how all the pupils have been awarded this trip through a special bursary.” She pulls something out from behind her back. “We’ve even got a hoodie!”
Ellis takes it and turns it over. PARIS 2019! is emblazoned across the back, with her name of the front; she looks amazed at the efforts that they’ve gone to.
“Witches don’t do things by halves,” Fletcher says, laughing.
“We can’t afford to. We don’t want your parents to worry about you. You’ll need to pack, and we’ll bring a minibus to pick you up. There’s a flight at eleven in the morning and so we’ll pick you up at nine. But you’ll stay here tonight. If that’s okay?”
Ellis looks suddenly scared. Elodie hugs her. “Ellis – they’ll be fine. They won’t know anything about it. They’ll think you’re in Paris – and we’ll keep them posted on how your trip is going. But you’ll be here. Safe and sound.”
“Am I in danger?”
Elodie turns her head to the side, assessing the young girl in front of her. “Not at the moment. But I can’t promise you that it will stay that way. Now it’s almost three o clock in the morning. You need some sleep. I’ll wake you at eight and Fletcher will take you home, un-spell the house and then you can pack. Happy?”
> Fletcher and Ellis nod and Elodie smiles. “Ellis can sleep in your room. You can go on the sofa. I’ve put some blankets there for you.”
Fletcher takes Ellis upstairs and points out everybody’s rooms and then takes her to his own.
“I like your room.”
“Thanks.” He stands in the doorway, not wanting to leave her. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Ellis. It’s my fault you’re here. It’s my fault you’re a witch.”
She shakes her head, no, and moves a step closer to him. “It’s not your fault. I’m just a bit...” She trails off unsure how to put her feelings into words.
He holds onto her shoulders, lowering his head so it’s in line with hers. “Scared, nervous, petrified, confused, worried. Anything else?”
Tears fill her eyes and he hugs her. “I have no idea what’s going to happen, but it will be okay.”
She pulls back. “I believe you.”
They are quiet, just looking at each other, just-
“Fletcher fetch her a towel, will you.” Elodie says, heading to bed herself. “What a night it’s been. I’ll wake you at eight.”
“Thanks.”
Elodie waits for Fletcher to come back and he hesitates, handing over the towel slowly.
“Come on son, let the girl get some sleep.”
Elodie puts her arm around Fletcher, leading him away. Ellis watches him go and he turns to look at her. He mouths, goodnight, and reluctantly goes back downstairs.
He throws himself onto the sofa and runs his hands through his hair. He should be celebrating right now, drink in hand, ultimate power all his.
Instead everything’s gone wrong.
But as he thinks about Ellis – and he can’t stop thinking about her – he’s ever so glad it has.
Ellis
I SHUT THE DOOR AND sink onto the floor.
In Fletcher’s room.
I can tell it’s a boy’s room – it smells like a boy’s room. A not unpleasant mix of aftershave and sweat. The walls are grey, and the bedding is grey, but the furniture is all white.
There’s a jumper on his bed, I pick it up and smell it. My stomach flips a little bit and I’m so cross with myself. I don’t want to join the list of girls who fancy Fletcher. He’s far too good-looking and popular for his own good.
And – I feel sad now, but it’s true – I’m no match for him. Molly might have been – she always said how hot he was – and she was the same: pretty, fun, popular. I was always in her shadow, and don’t get me wrong, I loved it there, but I’m not enough for a boy like him. He’ll fall in love with someone who’s just like him – the most popular, the best looking, the cleverest, someone who’ll go far. Probably a witch.
I wonder, suddenly, if there are other witches in our college, in our village or if it’s just Fletcher and his family. I have so much to learn. Maybe they are the only witches, but perhaps there are vampires, shifters, fairies. I fling myself onto his bed, still holding and smelling his jumper.
Pathetic.
But I don’t let go.
I still can hardly believe that what I now know is true, is true! Witches are real – I am one for crying out loud. Vampires are real. It must be like the films and books though, where they only drink artificial or animal blood – surely we’d know if vampires really were draining blood all over the place. And shifters? Not just werewolves but people who can shift into all sorts of things, even other people. That’s weird. And fairies? Do they have to hide their wings, I wonder? I’d love to meet a fairy. Maybe Fletcher will fall in love with a fairy. Are they even allowed to cross breed? Is that the right term or is that offensive?
I have no idea. So many questions, too few answers, and now I’m on Fletcher’s bed. If Molly could see me now!
She’d call me an absolute dick. It’s not that exciting to be on his bed. He’s not even with me – plus his mother made him give up his room for me, because I ran – like an idiot – through the middle of a magical ceremony that was meant to make him the head witch, and now I’m it instead. Great! Even if I was more in his league, I’ve pretty much ruined his life. Why would he be at all interested?
I close my eyes, sniffing his dirty clothes and then cry.
Yesterday in college I was just me, a bit sad, a bit lonely, a bit left out and Fletcher was just the boy everyone else fancied.
Now I fancy him and I’m in his bed smelling his jumper like the biggest loser the world has ever seen.
I embarrass myself.
I throw the jumper across the room, tuck myself under the blanket, and close my eyes. I will not look at all his things – photos of him and his friends scattered over his desk, a pack of chewing gum, a half drunk bottle of water. I will not smell anything else he has worn or trace my fingers across the clothes in his wardrobe. I will not be creepy. I will sleep, maybe, but I will not be weird in his bedroom.
I do sleep and his mother wakes me up at eight.
Fletcher looks well rested, but I know I must look like a wreck. He touches my back and we head downstairs and then we walk to my house together.
“Did you sleep okay on the sofa? I hope it wasn’t uncomfy.”
“No, it was fine. How was my bed?”
Lonely without you in it.
Of course I only think this, I wouldn’t dare say it out loud, but then I panic – can he hear people’s thoughts?
“You can’t read my mind can you, hear my thoughts?”
“No, why, what are you thinking?” He’s laughing at me now and nudging me with his elbow. I nudge him back. “Nothing. I’m just checking, that’s all.”
“No. I suppose I could try.”
“No!”
He laughs again, and I can tell from the look on his face that he reckons I fancy him. How annoying that he’s right.
I refuse to flirt or joke around with him, and head up the hill instead.
He unspells the house in the same way he spelled it yesterday and I rush inside. He stays outside, working his magic on my parents and their memories, while I run up to pack for my trip.
I want to look nice while I’m staying at Fletcher’s but not too obvious. Pretty but understated. Clean.
I pack toiletries and a mix of clothes and then head downstairs.
My mum kisses my cheek. “What’s with the case, where are you off to?”
“Paris,” I say with a conviction I don’t feel.
She looks completely confused for a moment and then she slowly nods, something like comprehension, but not quite, dawning on her face.
“School trip,” I say, giving her all the details, trying to help with the false memory thing.
My father comes in the room. “Ah, Ellis, thank goodness you’re up early – we have so much to do today. Whose suitcase is that?”
“Mine.”
“Are you running away?” He laughs at his own terrible joke, and I smile; he doesn’t often try to be funny. There’s a reason.
“I’m going to Paris. For two weeks, dad, on the college trip, remember?”
He shakes his head, no, his expression a complete blank and then his eyes widen and he’s nodding. “Yes, that’s right.” He looks at my mum who is nodding too. They both look so confuddled that I feel mean.
My parents are two of my favourite people in the world, and yes, we all hate our parents from time to time – usually when they won’t let us get our own way – but they are so lovely. Just two hard-working and happy people, still in love after all the years they’ve been together, just trying to do a good job with their work and their family.
My eyes are filling up with tears and so I busy myself with my bag, so they don’t see.
“Gosh, how will we cope without you?” It’s not hypothetical, my dad looks vaguely worried. And vague.
“You will, dad, you’ll be fine.”
“Of course we’ll be fine.” My mum smiles at me and frowns at my dad. “We’ll all miss you, though. Let us know how it’s going. I’ve always wanted to go.” They’ve never
been able to afford it. I wonder if I can magic them some tickets to Paris.
“Take lots of photos,” my dad says and kisses the top of my head. “Have you got euros?”
“Yes, you got them last week, remember?”
He nods and I want to cry and hug him. I love my dad, and I don’t like deceiving him and my mum like this. I know I have to, I know I have to be de-witched or whatever the term is, but I feel sad.
My mum gives me a big hug and then Isaac barrels into the room. I don’t know if Fletcher has remembered to spell him too. He sees my case and grins. “Enjoy your trip, sis. I’ll enjoy having the run of the place.”
I ruffle his hair. “Till dad gets you doing the makeup instead of me.”
The sheer horror on his face makes me laugh and he turns to our dad, spluttering. “Dad, I’m not doing makeup – you can’t make me.”
“Ellis stop teasing your brother.” My mother steps in to reassure him and I hug the three of them close.
My lovely family.
There’s a knock at the door. “That’ll be the minibus,” I say, and I kiss them all again, grab my bag and case and wave goodbye to them.
They follow me out, standing in a huddle, and waving from the step. They look so bemused that I feel bad again.
“All okay?” Fletcher asks, climbing on the bus with me and taking the seat next to mine.
“Fine.”
“They’ll be okay, Ellis, everything is going to be okay.”
I look at his handsome face, and I wish I could believe him, but as we drive away, I get this feeling of pure, sickening dread, and I almost scream for them to stop the bus.
I bite my lip. I cannot do anything now, except trust my life and my future to Fletcher and his family and hope that the danger his mum is worrying about, never comes to pass.
9
ELODIE IS DRIVING THE bus and as soon as she’s around the corner from Ellis’s, she pulls in. She turns the engine off and turns to the two of them. “We’ve got a problem.”
Fletcher feels Ellis stiffen beside him and reaches over to take her hand. “What, mum? What’s happened?”
The Accidental Witch Page 8
