Killer Witch in Westerham

by Dionne Lister

  Chapter 2

  Eight thirty Sunday morning. I’d already been for my run and had a shower. Now I was settled at the kitchen table cradling a mug of coffee. A half-eaten double-chocolate muffin sat in front of me as I stared blankly at the wood grain in the table. Will and I hadn’t had a chance to talk properly since the photo incident on Friday. At least he’d called last night and asked me out for dinner for tonight. I hoped we were going to be okay.

  “You’re up early for a Sunday, dear.”

  I jerked my head up, startled back into the real world. Angelica strode into the kitchen. Even though she wore casual clothes rather than her PIB uniform, she looked as immaculate as ever. She’d paired a black turtleneck jumper with dark blue jeans. My mouth dropped open.

  “What’s wrong?” She looked down at herself, maybe thinking something was out of place, God forbid.

  “Um, nothing. I’ve just never seen you with your hair out on purpose. You look really good, almost like you’ve got a date or something.” I chuckled. Angelica hardly went out, and she’d never had a date in the time I’d known her. Although, now that I thought about it, since she’d recovered from dying and being brought back to life during her undercover stint at the care home, she’d taken more time for herself and spent less time at work.

  She smiled. “I’m off to London today to catch up with an old friend.”

  “Does this old friend have a name?” I waggled my eyebrows.

  The corners of her lips twitched as she fought for control of the smile that would reveal too much. Too late. I grinned.

  “His name is Edward. And despite what you think, this isn’t a date. We’re two old friends catching up.” She recovered her stern face, gave me a warning glance, and sat opposite me. Her teacup appeared in front of her, already full of hot tea. “What’s on your mind, Lily? You looked rather preoccupied when I came in.”

  Trust her to volley the conversation back to my side of the net. I should have known better than to let my guard down with her—casual clothes did not necessarily mean a harmless Angelica. “It’s just… well. I know I’m being stupid, but Dana being in those photos…. I’m worried Will wishes he was still with her. It’s not even his fault if he still loves her. Just because someone’s horrible doesn’t mean you automatically stop loving them.”

  Olivia sauntered in, ready for a lazy day if her tracksuit attire was anything to judge by. “Who’s horrible? Did Will do something to you, Lily? If he did, I’ll ask Beren to turn him into a fire hydrant, and then I’ll gather the neighbourhood dogs and visit him.” She wiggled her fingers and witch cackled.

  I laughed “Good morning to you too.”

  “So? Spill.” She sat next to Angelica, and a cup of tea appeared before her. “Thanks,” she said.

  “My pleasure, dear.”

  Their gazes locked on me expectantly. I sighed. I felt as if I was at an interview for a job I didn’t even want. I waved my arm around and mumbled the bubble-of-silence spell. I didn’t really need to wave my arm, but it let Olivia know I was casting a spell. Angelica would have felt the vibration of magic, but the small smile she wore indicated she probably enjoyed the drama of the silly arm wave.

  Let’s just rip the Band-Aid off. “The photos I took at The Ritz on Friday showed my parents having a meal with Dana and two people I assume are her parents. Will made sure to send the photos to his phone, and I’ve hardly spoken to him since.” I hadn’t had a chance to talk to Olivia since Friday because she’d stayed at her parents’ on Friday night and been out with them on Saturday, then had gotten in late.

  Her face froze as she likely decided what emotion to go with. Shock won. “Oh dear. I don’t know what’s worse: knowing they were all friends or Will wanting a picture of her on his phone.”

  Angelica shook her head while levelling a “what the hell did you go and say that for?” look at my best friend before turning a calm look my way. “William is a sensible lad. Granted, he may still have feelings for her, but I’m sure they’re closer to hate than love.” She held her hand up. “And before you tell me love and hate are opposites sides of the same coin, they’re not. I’ve known him for a long time, and while I can’t tell you what’s in his head right now, I do know he’s absorbing the information and dealing with it in his own way. He knows this is difficult for you too, Lily, and he probably doesn’t want to make it worse by telling you anything before he’s had time to think it through. Just be patient. He normally takes a few days to get his head together. Try not to worry, dear. Now, no more talk of those photos. We’ll meet to discuss everything tomorrow night at seven. I’ve told everyone to be at your brother’s.”

  Easy for her to say. “Okay. I’ll be there. And as for being patient, I will, but it doesn’t mean I won’t worry. At least I’ve got a job this afternoon to keep me distracted.”

  Olivia leaned forward and her eyes lit up. “That’s right. You’ve got the birthday-cum-reunion party. That should be interesting. I hear there’s going to be a celebrity there.”

  “Oh, who?” I didn’t really care about celebrities, but I didn’t want to seem like a spoilsport—Olivia was so excited.

  “I’m not sure. I’ve heard a couple of rumours at the station. Someone mentioned Emily Allcott, and someone else swore their mother saw Jeremy Frazer at Costa on Friday.” She smiled. “I hope it’s Jeremy. He’s so hot. Can you get me a signature?” She grinned hopefully.

  “Who the hell is Emily Allcott?”

  Olivia looked at me as if I’d said I didn’t know who the Queen was. “Only one of the biggest stars on English television right now. She’s in the number one police procedural, On the Streets.”

  “Never even heard of it. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Lily. You can’t help being an Aussie. And I shouldn’t be surprised, really. I mean, you love Vegemite.” She shuddered and pretended to gag.

  “Ha ha, very funny. You’re a comic genius.” I rolled my eyes.

  Angelica stood. “Have a lovely day, ladies. I’m off to London.” She waved, then disappeared.

  Olivia gawked at the spot Angelica had just vacated. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

  “Yep, I know the feeling. I still get a shock when people appear in my camera right in front of me when they’re not really there.” She gave me a sympathetic look. No doubt, she was thinking about my parents. I shrugged. “So, what are you doing today?”

  “Just hanging out here. It’s the first day off I’ve had for ten days. I’m going to catch up on some TV. It’s a binge-watching kind of day.” She grinned.

  I smiled. “Sounds good.” I finished my breakfast, magicked everything away, and stood. “Well, have fun. I’m going to get my stuff packed up. The family reunion birthday thing is at this lady’s house. She wants me there early to get some photos of them setting up. Weird, but whatever. It’s going to be a long day. I’m there until late tonight.” I probably shouldn’t complain because the money was good, but being on my feet all day directing people would be draining. Hopefully, they’d be happy with me getting lots of candid shots too. I enjoyed those because I could be more creative, and I didn’t have to talk to anyone.

  “Maybe we could get some home delivery tonight. Indian?”

  “Definitely. I’ll text you when I’m on my way home. Make sure you order the vindaloo.” Mmm, spicy food was the best.

  She grinned. “Will do. See you later.”

  I waved as I walked out the door. Time to get to work.

  Chapter 3

  My client Marcia Ferndale lived in Crockham Hill, Edenbridge, which was about a mile and a half southwest of Westerham. My assimilation to UK life was almost complete now that I was thinking in miles instead of kilometres. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Melancholy filled my lungs, and I sucked in more air as I tried to dispel that suffocating sensation. Sorrow was a terrible substitute for oxygen.

  I tried to shake off the need to return to Sydney as I turned into Mrs Ferndale’s
driveway. Angelica had kindly lent me her car. I’d considered buying one, but I hardly ever needed it, and neither did Angelica, so we decided I should just share hers.

  Near-naked trees lined either side of the long drive, their orange and brown leaves an autumnal carpet marking the way to the house. I soon emerged into a bitumen-paved open area almost filled with cars. They started parties early around here. Luckily, there were still a couple of spots left, so I took one.

  Before I got out, I took a moment to focus and just breathe. While I did that, I checked out the elegant two-storey reddish-brown-brick home that faced the parking area. Its multi-paned, white-framed windows made it look like a doll’s house. There were lots of trees around, but very little grass, and no garden. Not exactly inviting, and definitely not a place to take family photos, unless dreary was what they were going for.

  Tap, tap, tap. I jumped and gasped, narrowly avoiding a heart attack. I turned my head to the right, my heart hammering. A guy stood there smiling. What the ever loving? I opened my door.

  “Oh, sorry. Did I scare you?” His familiar blue eyes sparkled, and his smile turned into a smirk. Yeah, he was real sorry. And too damn attractive. He was probably used to women falling all over themselves to get his attention.

  I gave him my sarcastic smile, which was my first line of defence—it usually worked. “No, you didn’t scare me. I jump around randomly every now and then. It’s a bad habit, but it helps me stay fit.” And then it hit me. That’s where I’d seen him before. Olivia was right—there was a superstar at this get-together. Jeremy Frazer. He was the romantic-comedy man of the moment. His sandy-blond hair and tanned skin added to his appeal, although whether his tan was natural or fake was anyone’s guess. I hated to admit it, but he was even better looking in real life. Not that I was interested. Olivia was going to kill me, but there was no way I was going to ask for his autograph—it would stoke his ego, and that flame was big enough already. Fame, to me, was a turnoff rather than a turn-on. Maybe I was being unfair for assuming he’d be self-absorbed, but I was willing to take that risk.

  I got out of the car, but he didn’t move back, which left mere inches between us. Awkward much?

  “So, which one of my lucky cousins are you dating?”

  I shut my door and went to the boot. “None. I’m the photographer.” I would have liked to have said something snarky, but he might have been Mrs Ferndale’s favourite grandson, and I didn’t want to upset the client. As I lugged my equipment bag, tripod, and reflector out of the boot, he walked around to join me.

  “Here, let me help.”

  Well, that was unexpected. I handed him the tripod. “Thanks.”

  “This hardly weighs anything. Why don’t you give me that bag? It looks heavy.”

  I appreciated his offer, but I didn’t trust him not to drop my thousands-of-dollars-worth of equipment. “Thanks, but I’m good. Can you just close the boot?”

  He shut it. “Done. Now let me show you to the house.” He smiled, again revealing straight, white teeth—a true movie-star smile. Unfortunately, he stayed that way for a beat too long. Was he waiting for something? Oh, yeah, probably for me to recognise him. Not going to happen.

  “Ah, thanks.” I smiled awkwardly, or was I grimacing? Were we going to stand here all day? I turned and made my way to the house—Mrs Ferndale was expecting me two minutes ago.

  “Wait up.” Awkward famous guy caught up to me. “Are you usually this unfriendly?”

  “I’m not being unfriendly. I was supposed to be here at a certain time, and I hate being late for a job. Unfortunately, Mrs Ferndale isn’t paying me to stand around and chat.”

  “Fair enough, but would it hurt you to smile?”

  I stopped dead and stared at him. He halted and turned. Oh, the things I wanted to say. “Look, I’m not here to—”

  “Hello! You must be Lily.” A little old lady—clichéd but true in this case—in cream slacks and a floral-print blue shirt stood at the front door waving her frail slim arm and smiling. It was probably lucky she’d interrupted me, or I might have lost this job before I’d started.

  I speed-glared at Jeremy and hurried to the front porch. “Lovely to meet you, Mrs Ferndale.” I smiled.

  “Welcome, Lily. And please call me Marcia.”

  “Thanks, Marcia.”

  “Now, why don’t you come in, and I’ll show you around. Then you can get started. Almost everyone’s here already. So many of my family have come from all around the UK, and I love them staying here.” It was a big house, but from the number of cars out front, it would have to be like the Tardis to fit everyone. She must have seen my sceptical expression. I still had poker-face work to do. “The house has six bedrooms, but I also have a three-bedroom barn conversion out the back. We’re on two acres.”

  “Nice. I can’t wait to have a look.”

  “Well, then, let’s go.” She turned and went into the house. I followed, the annoying movie guy behind me. I hoped he was going to leave me alone now he knew I was an unsmiling cactus.

  No such luck.

  “So, Lily,” he said. “What brings you to England?”

  “My brother moved here and suggested I come over. I figured, why not?” He didn’t need to know that I was really a witch, my brother was kidnapped, and the PIB basically dragged me over here. I smiled to myself. My life sounded like it could be a movie—not a romantic comedy though, more like a confusion of comedy and drama with a bit of thriller thrown in for good measure.

  As we walked from the entry foyer past the formal lounge and through to the large family room at the back of the house, I drew a small amount of magic and checked out Marcia’s aura. She was a witch. I turned and checked Jeremy out. He winked. Oh brother. I turned back quickly and resisted an eye-roll. But yep, he was a witch too. Wow, there were more around than I thought, not that I checked people’s auras often—I never remembered. It was likely her whole family were witches. I didn’t need to know, so I didn’t bother checking anyone else.

  This room had polished parquetry flooring and a huge, modern, open-plan kitchen to the right, and through a set of double doors at the back was what looked like a glass-roofed conservatory. All in all, it was a nice space… filled with Marcia’s family. A ten-seat timber dining setting to the left was fully occupied by six adults and four kids. They gave a combination of smiles and waves when I looked their way.

  “Hi.” I smiled.

  Marcia introduced everyone by name and who they were to her: two of her daughters, one son-in-law, one balding son, his two daughters who must have been around twenty, and four grandkids who ranged in age from four to ten. They were her eldest son’s, eldest son’s children. Confused: who me? I just smiled and nodded—there was no way I was going to remember everyone’s names. Maybe I should have suggested they wear name tags.

  She led me the opposite way, to the kitchen area, where her eldest son, his wife, and Jeremy’s brother were chatting and cleaning up after breakfast.

  “So, that’s everyone who’s in the house right now. My brother, his adult children, and grandkids are out walking, and I have a few cousins who are arriving in an hour.” She clasped her hands together, her smile broadening.

  I couldn’t help but grin at her enthusiasm. She was obviously excited to be celebrating her birthday with her whole family. I wished I already had my camera out—it would have made for a great shot. “Can I have a look around the garden? Is there anywhere specific you’d like some of the shots taken?” I crossed my fingers that the backyard was prettier than the front.

  The doorbell rang. Marcia clapped her hands together. “That must be Ross and the girls. I’ll be back. Jeremy, do you mind showing Lily the garden?”

  “Sure thing, Gran.” He turned to me as she hurried away. She sure moved well for an eighty-year-old.

  One of the middle-aged women at the dining table stood and strode over. She was as tall as Jeremy, around five foot eleven, and had the same blue eyes and straight nose. She put her ar
m around Jeremy. The hand that dangled over his shoulder had bright-red manicured talons dripping off it. Add in the chunky gold diamond rings, and it was as glittery as a ridiculously expensive Christmas tree. All but ignoring me, she said, “Sweetie, if you’re too tired, I can show the photographer around. You shouldn’t be bothering with such mundane stuff.”

  Jeremy scowled and shrugged her arm off. “I’m fine, Mum. I want to show Lily around, actually.”

  His mother turned her gaze to me but didn’t smile. She didn’t look angry, exactly, more as if she was assessing me and found me lacking. Maybe she was being protective. She probably knew women would be after him for more than his good looks. Celebrities attracted users. Fame was a double-edged sword. Jeremy shook his head and stood between his mother and me. “Come on, Lily. Let’s go. Gran wants to get started on those photos.” He led the way to the conservatory and to the yard.

  A small area of brick paving connected the rear of the house with the yard, which was a fairly level lawn that ran about fifteen metres and ended in a hedge with a door-sized gap in the middle. Intriguing. “Where does that go?”

  He smiled—this time it was genuine, not creepy. “Why don’t I show you?”

  I smiled and nodded. As we stepped into the green corridor, he asked, “Left or right?”

  “Oh, wow. Is this a hedge maze?”

  His smile widened to a grin. “It sure is. I spent many happy hours exploring it as a kid. Of course, I knew it back to front, but sometimes, I’d take a book, sit in one of the ‘rooms,’ and read. So, left or right?”

  “Right.”

  The hedges were close together, so we could only walk single file. There would be just enough room to squeeze past another person if you had to, but you’d get jammed into the hedge. Jeremy let me go first. The air was still and frigid, the ground soft from recent rain. The hedge was at least two foot taller than me, and only a haze of sunlight filtered into it, creating a surreal, otherworldly atmosphere.