by Helen Slavin
“We don’t think it’s working out,” Anna helped Charlie, “so…” and she stalled. Charlie opened her mouth to speak but their mother finished the sentence.
“So, you’re going to move in here and sort out the guests and visitors.” She looked at Anna, then at Charlie and finally, with a smile and a nod, to Emz.
“That includes me. I want to be here.”
Vanessa nodded again.
“I took that as read. No more rentals. Just guests and visitors. Trespassers and poachers.” She put the milk and cheese in the fridge. As she closed the door they were all looking at her.
“You know,” Anna said.
Vanessa shrugged.
“I lived here for a long time. I’ve watched from the shore myself on one or two occasions.”
Anna was surprised.
“Grandma always said…”
“Grandma…” Vanessa was tempted to blurt out the word ‘lied’ but at the last moment she stopped herself. “I was disconnected from all that. Cut off.”
“Because you were always working,” Charlie interrupted.
“She wasn’t working when she was a kid, Charlie…” Emz put in, and then looking at her mother, “were you ever interested in Grandma’s work? Did she ever teach you things?” Emz asked.
Vanessa was going to speak, blurt out thirty or more years of things she ought to have said and then she felt her mother’s fingers gripping her arm and stopped herself.
“I lived here. Yes. But… I was interested in science. We were… we are just different and all this… the Gamekeeper job, the life of Cob Cottage, well, all that just wasn’t written in my stars.” She took in a deep breath, clocking a quick look exchanged between Charlie and Anna and Emz.
“Why wasn’t it?” It was Emz who spoke. Vanessa turned to see the intense puzzled expression she always had when asking a serious question. Vanessa was too aware of the seriousness of her answer and chose her words with considerable care.
“I wasn’t chosen.”
“You’re not a Witch.” Emz said the word, its possible edges softened against the walls of Cob Cottage. Vanessa shook her head and smiled. There was a moment when the Way sisters understood that not only had Emz used the word, but their mother had not contradicted it.
Anna, Charlie and Emz took in this information and were quiet. Vanessa let it all sink in and, when there seemed to be no further questions, she breathed out.
“Right. Well I can see you are all alright, so I can head home.”
“Stay for a cuppa at least?” Anna was already moving to the kettle. “Please?”
Vanessa smiled, dug her hands deep into her pockets to where the laser cut edges of her car keys reassured her.
“I don’t belong here Anna.” She was struggling, it was harder than she had imagined. “If, at any time, any one of you needs somewhere… an escape, possibly… you know where to come. The front door’s always open.”
“Unless your digital security system is malfunctioning of course… in which case the key is stashed in the bay tree by the door.” Charlie was softer, smiled at her mother and Anna moved towards Vanessa, hugging her tightly. Vanessa buried her face into her daughter’s hair, spoke quickly and quietly.
“Please be careful.”
Without another word, Vanessa left.
Outside, before she got back into her car, Vanessa Way reached into the small patch of mud at the rough edge of the garden. She carried the small squidge of mud back to the house and, out of sight of the window, Vanessa Way cupped her hand up under the eaves and quickly and with skill, sculpted a base for a nest. Back and forth she moved, three times, each time another handful of mud cupped into the eaves until there was a small but strong nest built. Satisfied with her handiwork, she wiped her hands on her coat, got into the car and drove home.
28
Practical Magic
It was astonishing, the difference the haircut made. Seren’s face was clearer, less blurred by the swirling windblown locks.
“What do you think?” she asked Anna as they met up at the Castle Inn. She turned her head nervously, her hand reaching up to touch at the shorn shortness.
“I think it is amazing. You look… very different…” Anna felt tearful, which seemed ridiculous and she tried to hide it. “… In a good way… lovely… it is really, really lovely Seren…”
“Start anew,” Seren said. They locked glances for a moment, Seren’s eyes not hiding their sadness and Anna meeting that with understanding.
“So… how did it go this morning with the workshop?” Anna asked, trying to steer the conversation quickly so that she would not burst into tears. She wanted to hug Seren. Seren smiled.
“I got it. They’re drawing up the rental agreement now… I can start up from next week.” She looked nervous.
“You’re going to need somewhere to live.” Anna broached the subject. Seren’s booked holiday had been extended by a week and Anna knew she was anxious about her circumstances. It was only a few days ago that Anna had had a brainwave and now she was going to surprise Seren.
“Oh. Yes. I know, and I’ve got a couple of viewings lined up…” Seren began, her face growing pink and flustered and having nowhere to hide now that she had had her hair cut. Anna smiled.
“I’d like to show you somewhere.” Anna did not ask, she did not offer, she was taking charge. She was letting her Way Instinct guide her.
It was a short walk to No. 3 Keep Rows. The garden was newly cleared and tidied and looked inviting and wild in the golden autumn light.
Anna had small rituals worked out in her head in advance. She took her old key, the familiar chankle of it against her Woodcastle Castle keyring and reached for the lock. She was concentrating hard on her breath, neat and tidy, in and out, ordinary breaths. She must, at all costs, keep this ordinary. The key turned, the door creaked open.
“After you…” Anna gestured for Seren to step in ahead of her. For Anna, this was a handing over and she had imagined and imprinted the details of it in her head. So far. So good. The light from the kitchen at the back glowed through the small hallway, brushed against the carved wooden balusters of the stairs that sloped steeply upward. More light boxed out of the small back sitting room, the cosy front room, but Seren stayed in the hallway.
“Oh…” She gave a little sigh, her face softening. “Oh…” She glanced up the stairs, took a step towards the kitchen and then was distracted by the door to the front room. She turned to Anna as if for permission, her eyes widening. Anna, once again, made her ushering gesture.
“Help yourself.”
There was a wood burner in the fireplace and the windows looked out into the front garden and beyond to the neat row of houses opposite. The climbers outside made it green and leafy. As Anna stepped in the floorboards creaked familiarly.
“Oh…” Seren could not manage another word, her hands traced against the comfy-looking tub chair, the woollen blanket thrown over its arm. “Oh!” She moved to the neat two-seater chesterfield, looked out of the window. “Oh… Anna this is, this is…” She smiled.
“Why don’t you take a look around? Have a wander upstairs. I’ll be in the kitchen…” Anna suggested.
In the kitchen Anna leaned against the old Belfast sink. There was a smell of wood polish and the cupboard fronts, the dresser and the square table all looked burnished and warm. She could hear Seren upstairs, the familiar creaks and groans of the house as she headed into the front bedroom, the back bedroom and up into the attic. The attic had always been Anna’s favourite space, the skylight offering a view upwards to the towering castle behind.
Over the last two days Anna had, on her own, cleared out her old life and replaced it with one or two extra junk shop finds and the items she and her sisters were moving out of Cob Cottage as they returned their grandmother’s furniture to its rightful place. It seemed to Anna, looking at the September sunlight gilding the sand-brown wood of the kitchen table, that No. 3 Keep Rows was the rightful place for th
e items they’d chosen. It was a different house now.
It had to be.
* * *
That last day. Hallowe’en.
It had rained, starting early, before dawn, a soft drumming on the window.
Calum was still in bed, but Anna was already up, and in the kitchen, standing amidst the mess that she could never manage. Ethan was crying, and she had got up to try and soothe him, but nothing so far had worked. Food. A change of clothes and nappy. Cuddling. She was cradling him now and rocking her body around as if she was dancing because she did not know what to do. Her mind wanted her to put him down, to open the back door and to go into the garden, raining or not, just get out of the space, but she couldn’t do that. She had to hold onto him, she had to solve the problem. Upstairs she heard the bedroom floor creak and shortly afterwards the shower came on.
“Have you changed him?” Calum, suited for school, bustled into the kitchen. Anna glared at him and he held up his hands in surrender. “Okay… Okay… just making a not helpful suggestion…”
Calum made himself some toast. Anna wanted some toast too, but she couldn’t ask. She wanted him to think of it first and if he didn’t well, that was just about that really wasn’t it? Her body was a seething soup of bad emotion. Frustration. Fear. Fatigue. Anger. Irritation. Panic. It was as though all the good things had been washed out somehow.
“He’s just having another grumpy day…” Calum tried to make it unimportant, but it was easy to see how he stood munching his toast by the dresser, as far away as he could get without actually leaving the kitchen. “… Give him some Calpol… or maybe he’s still hungry. He’s not full of milk now he’s weaning, maybe give him something extra… more banana.” Calum brushed crumbs from his tie, kissed her and left.
There was no point staying in the cottage and so Anna got a grip by getting ready. She took Ethan into the shower with her and for a few minutes the warm water seemed to soothe him and so Anna stayed under the water, watching how it dappled at him. Then they were both too wet and pruney-feeling and so she dried and dressed them both and, as soon as she could, put him into the pushchair and headed out. She had no idea where to go. Charlie was working today over in Castlebury at some brewery pop-up food fest. Her mother was at the research centre. Emz was at school. Everyone was out of reach.
Ethan was still mewly and restless, but as they trundled about Woodcastle, Anna turning in and about the lanes and streets, he was better, he snoozed, he watched. He began to cry again.
“He’s a bit colicky probably…” Mrs Longridge in the bakery fussed him.
“It’s wind,” Mr Hatton in the post office declared. “One good burp and he’ll be right as ninepence.”
“It’s a bit damp with all this mizzle. You should take him home. He’s getting chilled,” Mrs Carr in the deli disapproved. “In my day of course, there was none of this trolling around town, you put your baby in the pram, put the pram in the garden and got on with your housework…” Her lips pinched together, and she glared so that Anna rolled the pushchair out, knocking over a display of pasta shapes as she did so.
“He might just need a cuddle…” Mrs Boyle at the kitchen shop shrugged. “My youngest just bawled all day until he was eighteen months, it’s just what some babies do. Don’t fret.”
“Leave him with me,” Mari said, lifting the squawling Ethan from his pushchair, her bright face distracting him for a moment from his existential struggles.
“No. I can’t do that Mari,” Anna said, reaching for her son. Her arms felt so tired, her shoulders ached and were stiff, there was a pain over her left eye. Mari commandeered the pushchair with its kit bag and Ethan settled in her arms, hiccuppy from sobbing and observing this different face, trying to recall it or record it. Anna had no idea. Thoughts were mashed in her head.
“It wasn’t a question. Go. Now. Give yourself an hour.”
“He’ll want feeding before then.” Anna was still reaching but Mari dodged herself and Ethan out of the way.
“That’s not a problem. I’ve done it before, remember, my sister has five of the little buggers… Go. Quick.” Mari shooed her out of the shop and turned the sign to ‘Closed’.
Anna wanted to walk. She wanted to head up Old Castle Road and find herself on the tarmac track and then the gravel under her feet and finally the dirt and the first view of Cob Cottage, but she was too tired. Instead, she sat on a bench in the churchyard. Around her, Woodcastle carried on its business, cars ground their gears up Darkgate Street, the bin lorry grumbled around Laundry Lane.
The panic did not creep up on her, it jumped out of her heart, punched her lungs. She couldn’t breathe, and her heart was over-beating to try and compensate. There was a taste in the air, something sharp and metallic and the rain, which had dribbled down to mizzle, began to pick itself up again. The drops were light and quick at first, but the air chilled and the drops pounded at Anna, leeching into her clothes, seeping down her collar. She took in deep breaths, fighting the black sense of dread that shadowed her.
Back at No. 3 Keep Rows, Anna stood by the sink. In the hallway, Ethan was in his pushchair, crying. She had shut the kitchen door to muffle the sound. Now, she could hear that he was tired, but she was tired too. Her hands reached for the edge of the sink, felt the cool curve of the porcelain and held tight. The rain was drumming at the window, bouncing in silver spikes on the flags in the back garden. Ethan’s crying bit into her. She moved to the back door, lifted the latch.
The air outside was bright, cold and wet, the rain in grey spears hurled from the sky. She had thought it might calm her but no, once again the panic surged, black dread ran through her blood. She turned back into the house, into the hallway. Ethan was snoozing in the pushchair, but she lifted him out, held him close.
She was still holding him when Calum arrived back from work. The back door was still open, the cold dank twilight fighting for the space with the insipid yellow glow from the overhead light. Calum took Ethan from her.
“Sit down…” He looped his foot round one of the chairs and his hand rested on her shoulder, easing her chairwards. Ethan, newly awoken, had resumed his squawling and he was between them now, the soft smell of him rising to Anna’s nostrils, his little hand reaching, curling and uncurling and she reached for him as if he might save her. “Right Noisy… what are we going to do with you?” Calum jiggled his son, distracting him for a few seconds, his face wide eyed, almost insulted. “… Seriously mate? What’s all the row about? Eh?” Calum moved around the kitchen, clicking on the kettle and dancing Ethan around. “Yes. Yes… what the hell, eh?” Ethan softened, his hand reaching to grip Calum’s shirt collar. Calum snuffling roughly into Ethan’s cheek with little piglet sounds which Ethan took a moment to decide he didn’t care for.
“I have a plan…” Calum spoke over the bawling sound of Ethan’s grump. “It involves me taking the Mighty Atom here over to the Chinese in Knightstone for a ride…” Ethan crowed and yowled. “… Yes, Shorty… I heard you… we all heard you…” He snuffled at Ethan again, jiggled him some more, like trying to fix a faulty appliance. Jiggle, jiggle, jog, jog. “So… I’ll take him. He’ll fall asleep and we’ll have Kung Pao Beef and Chicken in Black Bean Sauce. Is that a plan?” He reached and kissed Anna, Ethan’s small skull squished slightly between their faces so that Calum kissed him too, a shower of quick kisses to shock him. Ethan was quieted, his little mouth an astonished “O”.
“I’ll get my jacket…” Anna got up from the table, but Calum kissed her neck and pushed her down. “You stay here. Just relax. Drink the coffee I’ve made, maybe set the table and then have a nap or something… the lads have got this catering thing sorted…” Jiggle jiggle jiggle. “Haven’t we Shorty… yes, we have… ’cause I’m the dad and I say so…” Snuffle snuffle jiggle. “We’ve got chopsticks in the drawer, haven’t we?” Calum leaned towards her. “Hey. It’s okay.” He kissed her and was gone.
* * *
She didn’t know how long she slept
. Her head was resting on the kitchen table and it was dark, the power had gone out all across Woodcastle. The back door was still open, the rain sluicing downward making a sound like knives. Lightning glared and flashed, thunder rumbled through her.
She was alone.
* * *
The stairs creaked, and Anna broke out of her thoughts, opened the back door now to let them out. The day was fresh and bright. Seren came through into the kitchen.
“I love this place. Is this yours?” she asked.
Anna found herself unable to speak for a moment and so she nodded, a strong and definite movement. Seren looked at the table, her fingers tracing the old wood grain.
“You could stay here.” Anna found the words, she had rehearsed them, working out the quickest verbal route for herself. “If you like.” She looked at Seren who smiled.
“I would love to. What sort of rent are you after?” Seren’s situation was clear to the Ways; she had some savings and she was starting up her seamstress business.
“None.”
Seren looked disturbed, the brightness of her face switched off.
“None?”
Anna nodded.
“You want to sell? Is that it?”
“No. You can stay here rent free. That’s it.” Anna could hear that her voice was a little snappy and so she hurried to cover it. “The place is empty, it needs someone to live in it.” Anna pushed on with what she needed to say. “A new life.”
Seren picked up on Anna’s struggle.
“Thank you.” Seren stepped forward with a sudden hug. “Thank you.”
“No.” Anna was nearly there; the ritual was almost done. “Thank you.”
Anna reached into her pocket and took out a newly cut key looped onto a keyring which Emz had brought her from Prickles.
“This… is your key.” It glittered with sunlight as she handed it over.
29
