by Sam Short
Our loud giggles drew the attention of some of the other diners, and we calmed ourselves down with deep breaths. I'd been on my canal travels when the Robert incident had occurred, and Susie managed to remember something new every time we spoke about it. The bath story was new to me, and possibly one of the funniest she'd told me yet. Not for Robert though. He'd spent a night in a mental health facility, and hadn't fully recovered for weeks.
When we'd calmed ourselves down, Susie asked about my trip, listening intently as I told her about all the people I'd met and the places I'd been. "I almost sold out completely last week," I answered, when she asked me about business. "I stopped off and restocked on my way home, so my shelves are full again."
"I'm so happy for you, I knew you could do it," said Susie reaching for the bag at her feet. "I'm really sorry I can't stay longer, but I need to go and do some work. Do you want me to take you to the florists in Covenhill first? My cars parked around the corner."
"No thanks," I said. "I'll buy some pastries from Mrs Patterson. Mum loves the cinnamon and raisin ones. She'll enjoy them more than flowers. She thinks flowers are for funerals and cheating husbands."
"You mentioned something about free steak when you phoned last night," hinted Susie with a grin. "Is the invitation still open?"
"Definitely! I'll pick up some meat from the butchers on my way back to the boat. I'm going to invite Willow and Mum too. Willow loves barbecues, but Mum will say no – she has a thing about accidentally eating insects. She has to inspect her bedroom every night for spiders. She thinks they lower themselves into people's mouths while they sleep."
Susie spoke in hushed tones. "And to think that woman is a powerful witch," she said. "I'd have thought she'd embrace spiders." She leaned down and gave me a hug. "It's great to have you back, Penny. I'll see you tonight, and I'll bring some wine."
"No need. I've got plenty of my homemade stuff left."
Susie smirked. "That's why I'm bringing my own."
Chapter Three
With a bag of pastries in the small basket on the front of my bike, I took the narrow lane that led north-east out of the small market town. The mile-long trip to my childhood home was all uphill, and the tall hedgerows were alive with singing birds, with wild strawberry plants dotting the grass verges. Resisting the temptation to stop and pick some, I took the right turn onto the long gravel path that led through my mother's private woodland, and smiled as Hazelwood cottage appeared around the bend. The garden, and the climbing roses that crawled up the cottage's white walls, were in full bloom, and I sniffed the scented air happily as I wheeled my bike up the pathway.
The thick oak door swung open as I approached it, and my sister ran out to greet me, dressed in shorts, a tight white t-shirt, and a pair of flip-flops. "Penny!" she shouted, hugging me so tightly I nearly dropped my bike.
I returned her hug one with one arm, and looked her up and down as she took a step backwards. I gave a low whistle. "Wow," I said. "You've blossomed."
"So I'm told," she laughed. "Quick, come inside, Mum's going to be back soon."
Mum's little car was still parked beneath the large beech tree alongside the cottage, so I guessed she hadn't taken a trip into town. "She's in the haven?"
"Yeah, come inside quickly, we can watch her coming back."
Willow led me into the cottage, and a flash of silver on her wrist caught my attention as she closed the door behind us. "You got my present then?" I said. "I'm sorry I wasn't here for your birthday."
"You can make up for it next year," she smiled, "but I love my bracelet! Thank you!" The silver bracelet, complete with the cat and wand charms I'd added, jangled as she held it out for me to inspect. "Look, I bought another charm."
"A cauldron, it's lovely."
Willow narrowed her eyes. "Seriously though, Penny... did you put any real charms on it? Of the magical variety? I can't detect any, but I'm pretty sure you have."
I shook my head. "No, I promise. I wouldn't cast a spell on of anything of yours without telling you. Why do you ask?"
I followed Willow down the hallway towards the kitchen, fascinated by how her backside had filled out in the time since I'd last seen her. When I'd left four months ago, she'd been stick thin — nothing like the curvy young woman she'd become.
Willow sat at the large wooden table and pulled a seat out for me. "It's just that since I've been wearing it, I've had a lot of male attention, much more than normal. Something's not right. I thought you'd put an attraction spell on it."
I placed the bag of pastries on the table and pointed at my sister's chest. "I think it's got more to do with those than any magic tricks," I smirked. "Those are the only attraction spells you need. How did they get so big so quickly?"
My sister gazed down at herself, her cheeks blushing red. "Mum calls them my devil's dumplings."
My laughter echoed around the kitchen, and Willow joined in, her body shaking.
"Mum's just jealous," I said when I'd managed to stop laughing. "Granny told me she used to stuff her bras when she was younger."
Willow opened her mouth to say something, but put her finger over her lips instead. "Stop talking about Mum, she's back," she said, nodding towards the lounge.
I turned to face the open doorway. Although I'd seen Mum entering and leaving the haven hundreds of times, the trick never grew old. The crooked doorway quivered and creaked, and the edges began glowing white as a hovering light appeared in the centre. It spread outward until the space was filled with bright blue light, that made a low humming sound as it rippled like the surface of a pond on a windy day.
A large chocolate covered cake on a tray appeared through the light, held by hands on the end of arms that were cut off at the elbows by the shimmering sheet of blue. "Take care, Eva!" came Mum's voice, throbbing in time with the humming of the spell. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"
"You know me, Maggie, always on my best behaviour!" came the distant reply.
With her long hair standing on end, the tips sparking with flashes of red, the rest of my mother emerged through the doorway as the light faded and disappeared behind her. The humming stopped immediately, and my mother gazed at us in turn. "Penelope, you're home. I hope you're hungry. Aunt Eva made a cake."
"I brought pastries," I said, tapping the paper bag in front of me
Mum smiled. "How nice," she said, placing the huge cake on the table next to my meagre offering. "Perhaps I'll try one later."
Willow giggled. "Mum, your hair's smoking."
Mum nodded. "Thank you, dear."
"No, I didn't mean it like that. It's actually smoking," said Willow, pointing at the smouldering strands of hair that framed Mum's plump face.
Mum frantically patted her head. "I'll have split ends!" she said. "It's because I brought the cake through. Eva put a little magic in it to make it taste better, bringing magic through the portal messes with the space-time continuum."
"Mum's been watching Star Trek re-runs," whispered Willow, as my mother extinguished the last of the embers that fell onto her shoulders. "It's not a space-time continuum, Mum. It's because there's too much of Eva's magic in the cake for this world. The portal just evened it out a little."
The type of magic that could be used in the haven was far older than magic in the real world, and any magic that came through from the other dimension was severely weakened by the portal. The safeguards were put in place after the portal wars of 1907, which left twelve people in our world transformed into toads. They now languished in a purpose-built pond in the haven, surrounded by only the most succulent of flies.
"I know that, young lady!" snapped Mum. "I'm just trying to make magic sound more exciting to you two girls. Today's young generation of witches don't care about magic like we used to when I was younger. You're more interested in boys and make-up."
My eyes widened and Willow's jaw dropped. "That's hardly fair," I protested. "I haven't had a proper boyfriend since I was nineteen, and when do you see me wearing m
ore than a little lip gloss?"
Mum opened one of the large cupboards that lined the kitchen walls. She retrieved four plates and took a large knife from a drawer. "Well maybe not so much you, Penelope," she said, placing a plate each in front of me and Willow and laying the knife next to the cake. "You're too busy floating around the countryside in that death trap of yours, selling fake magic to desperate people who can't find love the old-fashioned way. Your sister on the other hand..." She didn't finish her sentence, she just pursed her lips, raised her eyebrows, and shook her head gently.
"Yes?" said Willow, "go on, what about me?"
Mum turned to me. "Since your sister grew those fun pillows, she's been parading herself around town, pushing her chest out, and acting puzzled when men suddenly start wanting to give her their phone numbers."
"I do not!" said Willow, placing her arms protectively across her chest.
The two of them stared at me as I burst into laughter.
"What's so funny?" said Mum.
"It's just good to be back," I said truthfully. "Come on, let's have some cake."
Mum sat down and pointed at the fourth plate. "We won't cut it until your grandmother gets here."
"Fun pillows," muttered Willow under her breath.
"Granny's coming?" I asked. "How is she?"
"Your sister hasn't told you?"
Willow moved a finger towards the bulging layer of sticky chocolate that covered the cake. "You told me not to tell her," she said.
"When do you ever do anything I ask you to?" said Mum, knocking Willow's hand away. "It's not good news I'm afraid, Penelope."
My heart sank.
"She's got witch dementia."
My heart lifted again. "That's not too bad," I said. "She'll soon get over it."
Mum fixed me with a stern stare, the frazzled hair hanging around her face making her look far less imposing than she was trying to be. "That's not very nice, Penelope. Imagine having your spells mixed up. Last week she tried to make one of her chickens lay bigger eggs, but she accidentally used a spell meant for an ostrich. That poor chicken... and the ones who witnessed it."
"It got better," said Willow, gazing at the cake. "It still looks a little shocked though."
"It's dangerous for other people, and scary for your Grandmother," said Mum. "The sooner it wears off, the better."
"How long has she had it?" I said.
"Since the accident with that goose of yours."
I sat up straighter in my seat. "What accident? Granny told me she did that because Mabel stole her sandwich. She said she'd reverse the spell as soon as she'd learned her lesson."
Mum dropped her eyes and fiddled with the top button of her long flowery dress. "She was ashamed. She'd tried to cast a spell to clamp its beak closed for an hour or so, but.... well, you know what happened."
Didn't I just — and so did the other waterfowl that used to share my little piece of water with her. Any sensible duck wouldn't come within a hundred metres of my mooring spot these days when Mabel was around. I'd thought Granny's spell had been a little extreme for the simple crime of sandwich theft by waterfowl. It made sense now. Granny had gone very quiet after cursing Mabel, and hadn't stayed around for the fruit trifle, which was very unlike my food loving grandmother.
"Anyway," Mum continued. "She's very angry about the whole thing. She just wants to get back to normal."
Willow agreed. "She can't even get to the haven to be cured. She's forgotten her entry spell. She blew a door off a changing room cubicle in a clothes shop when she tried."
I frowned. "Why on earth would she use a changing cubicle door to enter the haven? It's a very public place to be doing magic."
Mum stood up and crossed the kitchen. She brushed some hanging bunches of dried herbs away from one of the cupboard doors, and got the teapot out. She added some teabags to the huge pot and filled it with water from the kettle that whistled on the old aga stove. "She was trying on a new dress and she wanted Aunt Eva's opinion. The changing rooms were empty. Until the explosion anyway."
Willow laughed, and I couldn't help joining in.
"It's not funny, you two," Mum scolded, her wide hips swaying as she carried the teapot to the table. "At least your grandmother got her entry spell when she was nice and young, the way you two are going, you'll be lucky to get yours before you die! You need to take your magic more seriously. You're getting too wrapped up with what's going on in this world."
Since each of us had turned ten years old, our mother had been insisting we'd never work hard enough to ascend. Mum had acquired her ascension spell at the age of twenty-one, and whenever she entered the haven, that was the age she'd be while there. She could live to be a hundred in the mortal world, but as long as she entered the haven permanently before she died, she would always be twenty-one in the magical dimension.
Aunt Eva had been aged eighty-nine when she'd decided to permanently move to the haven, and she now enjoyed immortality in the body of a nineteen-year-old. She could never come back to our world, but we could go and visit her. If we ever ascended that is.
Each person's entry spell was different, and when a witch had gained enough magical knowledge to ascend, the spell would be made known to them. When a witch had acquired their spell, they could use any door or entrance to conjure a portal.
Mum's chair creaked as she sat down. "I've got more hope for Willow than I have for you, Penelope. At least she practices, and she's getting to know all the elements. You're stuck in that floating tin, surrounded by water for most of the time. You're like a goldfish."
Try as I might, I couldn't work out how living in a boat could be equated with being like a fish. Perhaps if I lived beneath the water in a submarine... maybe. "Why am I like a goldfish?" I asked her as she poured me a cup of tea.
She tilted her head and adopted a smug expression as she explained her theory. "What happens to a goldfish when it lives in a small bowl? It never grows, that's what happens. If you took it out of the bowl and put it a pond, it would grow to its full potential. You're the goldfish and your boat is the bowl. You'll never grow. You're not getting to know all the elements, Penelope. You need to step into a bigger pond."
I sighed. This again. "I have plenty of air. I have a fire in my boat. I live on water, and I feel the earth under my feet every time I moor up. I do just fine with the elements, thank you very much."
Mum wouldn't give up, and I sipped my tea and rolled my eyes as I listened to her. "You can't concentrate on one element more than the others, Penelope. I'm just concerned that you'll never understand the spirit element if you stay on that boat. You need to embrace the four earthly elements before you understand the spirit element, and it's the spirit element that will get you into the haven."
The sound of a car outside caught Mum's attention, halting her lecture — although I was fully aware she'd probably never give up on getting me back on dry land. Willow stood up to look through the window. "Granny's here!" she said.
The front door opened and Granny's hurried footsteps clattered down the hallway. She may have had witch dementia, but she was still three times as nimble as most women approaching eighty. She breezed into the kitchen, smiling at me before staring at my mother intently. She peered over her plastic rimmed purple glasses, inspecting Mum's charred hair, and sat down. "You've burnt your hair, Maggie. You'll need to trim and dye it."
"I don't dye my hair!" Mum said incredulously. She waved a hand between me and Willow. "I'm as naturally dark as these two!"
"Enough of your problems, dear," said Granny, her blue rinse perm looking as perfect as ever. "Penelope's home. Come and give your grandmother a kiss, I've missed you."
Granny puckered her lips as I approached her, and the smell of moth balls grew stronger as I bent down and gave her a hug, the hairs above her top lip tickling me as she planted a firm kiss on my cheek.
"And you, Willow," said Granny. "There's plenty of my loving to go around."
I heaved a sigh of relief as
Willow hugged her — Mum might stop trying to talk me out of canal boat living now Granny was around. Granny had been ecstatic when I'd bought a boat, and she'd come on my first day trip with Willow, asking dozens of questions about the Water Witch, and offering loads of suggestions as to how I could improve her. I'd taken her advice on a lot of points, especially her idea of installing wine making equipment.
Willow sat down and Mum began cutting the cake. It bulged at the edges as the knife sliced through the thick layer of chocolate.
"A little smaller," said Granny, watching Mum cut the first slice.
"This is my piece," said Mum.
Granny smiled. "I know, dear."
Mum was about to protest, but Granny spoke over her. "So, Penelope. How's life on the boat? I hope you're remembering to grease your stern gland regularly?"
"Enough of that!" said Mum, sliding a cake laden plate in front of Granny. "You know we don't speak about women's problems at the table. It's uncouth."
"It's part of the boat!" I laughed. "It keeps the propeller shaft watertight. I kept forgetting to grease it last year."
Granny looked happy with herself. "You'd have known that if you took the time to go on a trip with her, Maggie."
Mum ignored her and bit into her cake as she watched me take a bite of mine. My head throbbed as the cake hit my stomach, and I knew right away that the magic Aunt Eva had added to the mix was not to enhance the taste. It was a spell. Aimed at me. Images of sunny meadows and frolicking lambs swirled through my mind, with happy people in the background walking in and out of cottages in a picture-perfect village. The pleasant images faded into blackness and were immediately replaced with images of ships and boats sinking, with vicious sharks swirling through the waves below them.
The portal had obviously removed most of the spell, because almost as soon as the images had appeared, they were gone, and I still wanted to live aboard my boat.
"How do you feel?" said Mum, a crumb of cake attached to her bottom lip. "Is the cake nice?"
