Double, Double, Toil and Truffle (Bewitch by Chocolate ~ Book 6)

by H. Y. Hanna

  “Er... I didn’t mean with Pomona either... I meant... just the two of us. There’s a lovely restaurant I’d like to take you to.”

  Caitlyn stared at him. Was James asking her out on a date? Her heart began thumping in her chest and she felt suddenly tongue-tied. “Um... er... yes, of course... I’m free... I mean, I’d love to,” she stammered.

  James’s smile widened. “Good. I’ll come and pick you up from the chocolate shop. Shall we say... eight o’clock?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CAITLYN DECLINED JAMES’S offer to drive her to the village, opting to walk back from the Manor instead. Aside from the fact that it would save James a detour, it was actually faster for her: due to the contours of the landscape, they would’ve had to circle around the valley to reach the village on the road, whereas on foot, she could take the shortcut through the Manor grounds and over the hill, arriving faster at the Widow Mags’s cottage, which was situated at the base on the other side.

  She set off from the rear of the Manor, enjoying the walk through the landscaped gardens, and curiosity made her veer towards the outbuildings at the rear of the estate. She wondered if the police were still working the area around the icehouse. Then she paused as a movement between two buildings up ahead caught her eye. It’s Louise, Caitlyn realised with surprise.

  She watched as the other girl cast a nervous glance over her shoulder, then darted furtively into the woods in the direction of the icehouse. On an impulse, Caitlyn followed. She soon realised that Louise wasn’t making for the icehouse but was going even deeper into the woods. The girl seemed to be carrying something in her hands and kept looking over her shoulder, as if checking that she wasn’t being seen.

  Finally, she stopped beside a fallen log and dropped to her knees beside it. Caitlyn paused behind a bush several feet away; she wanted to get closer to see what Louise was doing, but the log was in a clearing and there was no other bush or rock nearby that she could hide behind. Then she gave a rueful smile. Well, was she a witch or wasn’t she? Surely, of all the times when she could call upon magic for help, this was it?

  Caitlyn glanced around. What I need is a spell to camouflage myself, she thought. Something to blend in with the surroundings... She closed her eyes and concentrated hard, visualising herself changing and blending with the environment around her, her skin coarsening and hardening into brown bark, her hair changing from vivid red to deep green.

  A few minutes later, she opened one eye and peeked down at her hand, then nearly squealed in elation. It had worked! Her skin had darkened in colour and roughened in texture. She put exploratory fingers up to her face and felt little cracks and knobs across the surface of her cheeks, just like on the bark of a tree trunk. As for her hair... she pulled a strand in front of her face to inspect it, then nearly laughed with surprise and delight. It had turned green! And not just one shade of green but a myriad different shades of sage, chartreuse, emerald, and olive, just like the foliage around her. She turned to look back at the other girl and took a deep breath. Now, to put things to the test...

  She tiptoed slowly over, still keeping as close to any existing shrubs as she could, until she was just a couple of feet away, by one end of the log. Crouching low, she crept closer and, as Louise turned slightly, she saw what the other girl was doing: digging a shallow hole in the earth beneath the log. Louise was muttering to herself as she scraped the soil aside with her bare hands, and from her hostile tone and indignant sighs every so often, Caitlyn could see that the girl was simmering with anger.

  Finally, Louise seemed satisfied with the depression she had made and turned to the bundle on the ground next to her. Caitlyn watched as the other girl unwrapped the canvas fabric and heard a tinkle as several large shards of glass fell onto the ground. They were part of a broken glass jar—Caitlyn could see the base of the jar, with its jagged edges, still in the fabric, together with several other colourful items that glittered unnaturally in the soft light of the woods.

  She squinted, trying to make out what they were: several stones and seashells, a few glass crystals in lurid shades of pink and purple... a large white feather, liberally sprinkled with cheap rainbow-coloured glitter... sprigs of herbs, each tied with colourful ribbons and also smeared with glitter... and a pile of dyed rose petals. There were also the remnants of a cork stopper, covered with melted wax. Caitlyn realised that everything must have once been inside the jar, which looked like it had been smashed in a fit of rage. She also realised what it must have been: a honey jar.

  Yes. She recalled Minerva Chattox attempting to persuade Hattie to buy a honey jar, that day they had been in the Library together, and the fake witch had described the contents just like this: the rose petals and crystals, feathers and herbs... In fact, she was sure this particular spell jar had come from Minerva too. Her hunch about Louise had been right! The girl had been conned into buying something from the fake witch...

  Caitlyn had been so intent on seeing what the items in the jar were that she hadn’t realised how far she had been straining forwards and how much she had been leaning on a branch which protruded from the fallen log. Now, the dead branch suddenly snapped and broke off from the log, causing her to lose her support and pitch forwards. She rolled and landed on the ground, almost beside Louise.

  The other girl gave a startled cry and sprang up. “What... who...?” Her eyes bulged as she stared at Caitlyn. “Oh my God... what happened to you?” she gasped.

  Caitlyn sat up slowly, wondering why Louise looked so perturbed, then she remembered that she was still under the camouflage spell and no doubt looked very odd with her brown bark skin and green hair! Quickly, she pointed behind Louise’s back and yelled:

  “Look! What’s that?”

  It was the oldest, lamest trick in the book, but Louise obediently whirled to look and—while she was peering quizzically into the undergrowth, saying “What? Where?” —Caitlyn hastily shut her eyes and tried to recall the “Undo” spell that Evie had once taught her:

  “What’s done cannot be undone / But now this mess is begun / Make it go back / Back make it go / Just as it was/ And no one will know!” she whispered.

  She felt a wave of warmth wash over her whole body and when she opened her eyes and looked down at her arms, she was delighted—and relieved—to see that her skin had returned to its normal texture and colour.

  Louise turned back. “I don’t see anythin’. What—” She broke off to stare at Caitlyn again. She blinked. “You... you’re diff—”

  “Sorry, I must have been mistaken—I thought I saw something funny in the trees,” said Caitlyn glibly, smoothing back her hair.

  Louise gave her another odd look, then she narrowed her eyes and said, “What were you doin’ spyin’ on me?”

  Caitlyn started to deny it, then remembered that sometimes, offence was the best form of defence. “What were you doing?” she countered. “Hiding evidence?”

  The other girl stiffened. “What... what do you mean?” she asked warily.

  “You went to see Minerva Chattox and asked her to cast a spell for you, didn’t you? That’s what this is. I recognise a spell jar when I see one,” said Caitlyn, gesturing to the broken remnants on the ground next to them.

  Louise hesitated, then said sullenly, “Yeah, that was a spell jar.”

  “Why did you break it?”

  “Because it didn’t bloody work!” hissed Louise. “That Minerva Chattox woman was a lyin’ cow! Told me that she could make my boyfriend love me more—like, ignite more passion in our relationship. Well, I paid her two hundred and fifty quid for a honey jar, and I even stole some of my boyfriend’s nail clippin’s to put in it, like she asked. She said she was goin’ to use a special candle and burn magical ritual oils...” She gave Caitlyn a peevish look. “Well, you know what happened? My boyfriend dumped me! He just stopped talkin’ to me, and next thing you know, he said it was over! For no reason!”

  Oh no, I’m sure the fact that you were creepily stealing hi
s toenail clippings had nothing to do with it, thought Caitlyn.

  “And then everybody started sayin’ Minerva was a fraud—that she ain’t even a witch at all!” continued Louise, her mouth twisting bitterly. “That day when I got a lift back with the vet from Vera’s farm... well, I realised suddenly that I might have been conned!”

  “That’s why you rushed off when we arrived at the Manor,” Caitlyn guessed.

  “Yeah, I wanted to go and check the spell jar that Minerva had given me. She said it would take a full moon cycle to work and I thought... I thought maybe my boyfriend might still come back to me, but then when I turned the jar upside down to look at some of the things inside, I saw... I saw...” Louise’s face was getting blotchy and she was starting to cry again, although this time they were clearly tears of anger. She bent and snatched up one of the items from the pile on the ground. “Look at this! Minerva told me that it’s a genuine mermaid comb fused from sea glass and shell...” She held out something which looked like a small translucent green shell, with long spikes coming off its central spine. “She said it’s a rare, priceless artefact collected from the sea and I had to pay extra for it, but it would have a powerful aura that would help my spell work faster... Except, when I turned it over—do you know what I saw? Look!”

  She jabbed a finger at the item and Caitlyn saw that, on closer inspection, the “sea glass” shell was actually made of plastic and there were tiny words imprinted on the underside: “Made in China”.

  “This ain’t a real mermaid comb at all! She lied to me! She took my money and conned me!” howled Louise, her face mottled with fury now. “The sodding cow! I wanted to kill her! I—” She broke off suddenly, as if realising what she’d said, and shot Caitlyn a wary look.

  There was a strained silence. It was clear to both of them that the timing made Louise look very guilty: she had rushed off to check her spell jar while Caitlyn and the vet had gone to the stable yard... Could Louise have been the person that I overheard having heated words with Minerva? Caitlyn wondered. After the fake witch had stormed away, the girl could have followed her and taken her by surprise—perhaps hit her on the head to knock her out...

  But what about the stool? As Pomona had pointed out, the use of the stool suggested that the murderer was someone who was familiar with the witch trials, which would point the finger in Gerald Hopkins’s or Vera’s direction instead... Except... Wait! Caitlyn suddenly remembered the book she had seen tucked at the back of the bookshelf in Louise’s room earlier—the book about the history of witches and witch trials in Great Britain. Was it just a coincidence that Louise owned a book where all the details of the trials were highlighted...?

  “Look, I need to get back to work,” Louise muttered, trying to edge around Caitlyn.

  “Wait—what about your spell jar?” asked Caitlyn, indicating the broken shards of glass and the little pile of items at their feet.

  Louise shrugged. “I was goin’ to throw it away, then I remembered that Minerva told me I needed to bury it, to release the energies into the earth...” She coloured, looking sheepish. “I know she’s supposed to be a fraud but... well... just in case...” She put out a foot and used it to shove the items into the shallow hole she had dug, then scrape soil over them. “I... I really need to get back to work now.”

  Pushing past Caitlyn, she practically ran back towards the Manor.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  WHEN SHE GOT BACK TO Tillyhenge, instead of heading into the chocolate shop, Caitlyn made her way to Herbal Enchantments, Bertha’s shop on the other side of the village. She found her aunt busily serving customers, but Evie and Pomona were nowhere to be seen.

  “The girls?” said Bertha, glancing up distractedly from where she was weighing bars of homemade goat’s milk soap. “I think they’re—” She stopped and stared at Caitlyn. “Oh my goddess!”

  Caitlyn noticed that several of the customers were staring at her too. “Is something the matter?” she asked, touching her hair self-consciously.

  “Er... no... you look very nice, dear,” said Bertha, giving her another uncertain look. “The girls are out the back. Pomona is helping Evie with her maths homework.”

  Caitlyn blinked. Pomona was a whizz at many things but maths homework was not one of them. Besides, it was still the school summer holidays, and while Evie might have been given some assignments to complete before returning for her last year in high school, somehow it didn’t seem likely. What was going on?

  “Oh, when you see Evie, can you remind her that I’m out this evening?” Bertha added. “I’m going to see the manager at that new clinic in town—the one that’s keen to stock my traditional herbal remedies.”

  “Okay.” Giving her aunt a bright smile, Caitlyn headed through to the back of the shop, where the private living quarters took up the rear of the cottage. However, the neat little sitting room and kitchen were both empty, and she had to go upstairs before she finally found both girls in Evie’s bedroom. They were sprawled on the floor with a mess of books, papers, candles, herbs, and oils spread around them, and they started guiltily when she opened the door.

  “Oh, it’s you...” Pomona breathed a loud sigh of relief. “Quick! Come in and shut the door. We—” She broke off and stared at Caitlyn. “Holy guacamole! Why didn’t you tell me you were dyeing your hair?”

  “What? I haven’t dyed my hair...” Caitlyn put a hand up to her head in confusion.

  Pomona smirked. “Are you telling me that your hair just turned green by itself?”

  “What? Green?” Caitlyn rushed over to Evie’s tiny dressing table and gasped in horror when she saw her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a hideous shade of lime green. Coupled with the normal milky white of her complexion, it made her look sickly and slightly ghoulish. No wonder Bertha and the customers had stared!

  “Oh no! It’s that camouflage spell!” she moaned. “I thought I had reversed it, but it must have not worked completely on my hair.”

  “What camouflage spell?” asked Evie eagerly.

  Caitlyn told them what had happened with Louise, including her attempts at blending in with the environment in order to follow the other girl and spy on her.

  “What am I going to do?” she asked, turning back to look at the mirror in dismay. “I can’t have green hair for my date with James tonight!”

  Pomona squealed. “You have a date with James Fitzroy? Man, why didn’t you say that first?” She sprang up and began twirling around the room in delight, chanting in a sing-song voice: “Caitlyn’s got a day-ate... Caitlyn’s got a day-ate...!”

  “Pomona...” Caitlyn pleaded. “I’m not going anywhere if I don’t fix my hair!”

  “Why not?” said Pomona, coming over to finger some strands of Caitlyn’s hair. “Green looks kinda cool. Like... you know, grunge. Or maybe even Goth, which is really trendy now... James will just think that you’re following the latest fashions.” She leaned back and narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, you could really amp it up... like, wear an all-black dress and platform boots... and I’ve got this awesome leather jacket with studs that I could lend you... and I’ll do a smoky-eye in jade and emerald to match your hair, and you could even try black lipstick—”

  “Ugh—no!” Caitlyn gave a shudder. “I don’t want to look grunge or Goth or whatever you’re describing. James is taking me to a classy restaurant, not a rock concert! I want him to be proud to have me on his arm—not be horrified or embarrassed by how I look.”

  “Oh, pul-lease!” Pomona waved a dismissive hand. “James would think you look gorgeous wearing a trash bag! Besides, he’s such a gentleman, he’d never say anything.”

  “That’s not the point! He might be too polite to say anything but he’d probably be disgusted inside. I know James—he’s not into trendy fashions and things like that. He... he has more ‘classic’ tastes.” Caitlyn turned back to her reflection again and said miserably: “I never dreamt that James Fitzroy would ask me out for dinner—you don’t know what it means
to me... I wanted everything to be perfect for our first date... and to look elegant and beautiful... Not like this!”

  “Have you tried the ‘Undo’ spell again?” Evie suggested. “Maybe it wasn’t enough to reverse the spell completely the first time, but it will finish it off if you repeat it.”

  Caitlyn brightened. “That’s a good idea! Why didn’t I think of that?” Hurriedly, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and whispered the words rapidly whilst concentrating as hard as she could. Then she opened one eye and looked at the other two girls hopefully. “Anything?”

  Pomona leaned back and examined Caitlyn’s head. “Well, maybe it’s more chartreuse than lime now—”

  “Oooh!” Caitlyn clenched her fists in frustration. “It’s not working. We’ve got to think of something else.”

  “Great. Not another thing,” said Pomona, rolling her eyes and gesturing to the mess on the floor. “We haven’t even figured out the first one.”

  Caitlyn looked down in confusion at the books, papers, candles, and herbs strewn around them. “What do you mean? What are you trying to figure out?”

  “How to reverse the revenge spell,” said Evie anxiously.

  “Oh... yeah,” said Caitlyn, realising guiltily that she had forgotten all about the chicken situation with Nadia and her friends.

  “We’ve tried everything,” said Evie with a sigh, casting a despairing eye over the piles of books around them. “We’ve looked in every book and parchment I could think of—and Pomona even managed to get online to do some Googling!—but we still can’t work out how to break a revenge spell.”

  “You know, I keep telling you: we should just leave them as chickens forever,” said Pomona with a wicked gleam in her eye.

  “You’re not serious,” said Caitlyn, frowning at her.

  Instead of agreeing, Pomona rubbed her hands with relish, the gleam in her eye turning malicious. “Just think,” she murmured. “Being forced to lay eggs every day... or maybe even being slaughtered and then ending up in someone’s pot—”