by Sam Short
“Then I look forward to his return,” said Beth. She closed her eyes for a moment, and then picked the pruning shears up and began fiddling with them. “I hated Trevor Giles,” she said.
Millie sat straighter in her seat. “Oh?”
Beth nodded, turning the shears over in her hand. “He was always an awful bully, from the first day I had to share a classroom with him as a child he began bullying me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Millie, wondering if she should attempt to read Beth’s thoughts. Maybe just for a few seconds, just to see whether Beth was telling the complete truth or not. No. It wasn’t a good idea. Beth seemed like an astute person, and if Fredrick had discerned that she was reading his mind simply from the expression on her face, then maybe Beth would too. Anyway, the stone of integrity was a far more accurate lie detector than Millie’s ability. She shook the idea from her head and smiled at Beth. “Bullying is an awful thing to have to experience.”
Beth suddenly slammed the shears down onto the table, the clank of metal on metal startling a bird from a branch alongside the pond and making Millie jump. For a few seconds, the only sound in the garden was the gentle gurgling of the little fountain in the pond, until Beth let out a loud sigh. She looked at Millie sheepishly. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I got a little frustrated.”
“That’s okay,” said Mille, a little shocked at the anger which had been displayed in Beth’s eyes. She leaned back in her seat. “Frustrated about what?”
“I’d always planned on confronting Trevor Giles,” she said, brushing a curl from her eyes. “I’d always promised myself that one day when I’d managed to build up the courage, I’d stand in front of him and tell him how cruel he was to me as a child. I’d tell him how his bullying had affected my whole life, how his horrible words have made my whole life a misery. How he’s made me afraid to leave my own home sometimes, how he’s —”
Millie stood up quickly as Beth bowed her head and began making loud sobbing sounds, her whole body shaking. “Are you okay, Beth?” she asked, rushing to the woman’s side and putting a hand on her broad shoulder.
Beth gave another sob, before pushing Millie’s hand away and getting to her feet. She opened her mouth to say something, but let out a strangled cry of misery instead. Tears soaked her cheeks, and she wiped her face with the back of her hand before turning her back on Millie and hurrying along the garden path towards the house, her sobs still audible until she disappeared through the door.
Taken aback, Millie stood still, listening to the fountain and the buzzing of insects, and wondering what had just happened. As she began walking towards the house, Victoria rushed into the garden, her face dark with rage. “What have you done to her?” she yelled, rushing towards Millie. “What did you say to my daughter?”
Chapter 24
Millie took a step backwards as Victoria approached at speed, her face flushed red and her hands balled into small fists. “What did you say to her?” she demanded. “I thought it was lovely that somebody had come to visit my daughter, but I’d have never let you near her if I’d known something like this was going to happen!”
“I didn’t intend to upset her,” said Millie. “Is she alright?”
“No!” snapped Victoria, coming to a halt in front of Millie and relaxing her hands. Her body sagged a little as if expended of energy, and then she crossed the short distance to the table and chairs. Slowly lowering herself into a seat, she looked at Millie. “No, she’s not alright. She’s crying her eyes out and muttering something about Trevor Giles. Emma’s taken her up to her room to try and calm her down. That poor young girl has had to deal with so much from her mother. It’s not fair on her.”
“I really didn’t mean to upset her,” said Millie, sitting down opposite Victoria.
Victoria gave Millie an accusatory glare. “Then why on earth did you come here talking to Beth about Trevor Giles? That man ruined her life!”
Taking a deep breath, Millie studied Beth’s mother. Worry lines crowded the space around her eyes, and her cheeks lacked colour. She was a concerned woman. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll tell you why I talked about Trevor Giles, but I’m not supposed to, and I’d ask that you keep it a secret until it’s public knowledge. I was going to ask the same of Beth before she... left so abruptly.”
“Keep what a secret?” asked Victoria.
“Trevor Giles is dead,” said Millie. “He died last night. He was murdered. He was poisoned.”
Putting a hand to her mouth, and with her eyes widening, Victoria sat motionless for a few moments, before beginning to nod slowly. “I see,” she said. “But why does that news involve my daughter, and why are you requesting that it be kept a secret?”
“I’m asking that you keep it secret because a certain person might be in danger from the werewolf community if news about Trevor’s murder becomes common knowledge,” said Millie. “They might jump to the wrong conclusion and blame the wrong person. I want to help find the real killer before somebody is hurt.”
“That answers the second part of my question,” observed Victoria. “And you have my word that it will be kept a secret, but what about the first part of my question... why should the death of Trevor Giles involve my daughter?”
“Trevor Giles seemed to have enjoyed conflict,” said Millie. “He was known for inviting it wherever he went, and yesterday was no different. He argued with a lot of people during the school fete, and then later that day, he died from poisoning. I’m here to ask Beth the same questions that I’m going to ask everybody who argued with Trevor Giles yesterday. I need to find out if any of them had a strong enough motive to want to hurt Trevor.”
“You’re here to find out if my little Liz is a murderer?” asked Victoria, her voice raised. “Of course she’s not a murderer! She’s a gentle person. Too gentle. I told her a long time ago that she should have stuck up for herself against people like Trevor Giles by using her magic, but she never would. She always said that magic was never intended to hurt, it was only intended to help.” She sighed. “And I suppose she’s right. She’d have been no better than Trevor Giles if she’d retaliated with magic.”
Millie inclined her head as she looked at Victoria. “Liz?” she said, the name sounding familiar to her ears. “You just called her Liz.”
“That’s what I used to call her,” explained Victoria. “That’s the name she used to go by. It was short for Elizabeth, you see.”
“And now she goes by Beth, instead,” said Millie. “Why did she decide to switch from Liz to Beth?”
Victoria gave a bitter laugh. “Because of Trevor Giles,” she snorted. “A bully boy managed to force a young woman to change her name because the memories attached to her old name were too painful for her to bear. Trevor Giles was horrible to Beth while they were in school. He used to call her the most awful names. Lardy Liz was his favourite, and the cruellest thing of all was that Elizabeth wasn’t even very overweight when he began calling her that awful name. She carried a few extra pounds, but she began really piling on the weight after Trevor began bullying her.”
Lardy Liz. That had been the name written in one of the old cookery textbooks that she’d given to the children yesterday. There had been some more insults in the books, too, but Millie couldn’t recall them. She decided not to bring it to Victoria’s attention. Beth’s mother was already angry, and Millie didn’t want her to know that she had unwittingly exposed Beth to that terrible name once more.
She imagined how hard such teasing must have been for a young girl, and remembered a time in her life when she’d been teased. Not enough to have affected her whole life, but enough to have forced her into finding a vice for a few months. Like Beth, she’d turned to food for a period, too, but she’d been able to break free from its awful grip. She gave Victoria an understanding smile. “Comfort eating,” she said.
“Yes,” said Victoria. “And she’s never managed to gain control over it. She’s never been able to break free from the cage w
hich Trevor Giles built for her. The cage which keeps her believing that she’s worthless, that she’s a bad person. That way of thinking has shaped her life so far, with awful consequences. She rarely leaves the house, she has no real friends, and she even drove her husband away.”
“Emma’s father?” asked Millie.
“Yes,” said Victoria. “He tried his best to save the relationship, but Beth took the hatred she had for herself out on him. He was forced to leave in the end. Last year.”
“How sad,” said Millie.
Victoria looked towards the house and then leaned across the table towards Millie. “And then she took the hatred she had for herself out on herself, instead of on somebody else,” she said, in a lowered voice. “Beth tried to end her own life, and if it weren’t for Emma, she would have succeeded.” She dropped her eyes to the table and sighed. “That poor girl. She’s been through so much for someone so young. First, her father moved abroad to work after her mother had forced him away, and then her mother tried to drown herself. No wonder she’s so timid.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Millie. “How awful.”
Her expression softening, Victoria smiled at Millie. “We don’t talk about it,” she said. “But it actually feels refreshing to be able to speak about it for once.”
“Tell me as much or as little as you want to,” said Millie. “I don’t mind listening if you think it will help, and I’ll understand if you want to say no more about it.”
Victoria took a deep breath. “It was last year,” she said. “Late at night. It was almost midnight. Emma couldn’t sleep. She rarely could for a while after her father had left home. She got out of bed and went to her window to watch the moon. Emma loves the moon, as she should — we’re a family of witches who use the moon’s energy in our magic. It was a full moon that night, and if it hadn’t have been, Emma wouldn’t have seen what she did see, and she’d probably have been without a mother.”
“What did she see?” asked Millie, gently.
Victoria hesitated, but then spoke with a sadness in her voice. “Her mother walking into the duck pond in the park. Emma’s bedroom window has a good view of the park, but without the full moon she wouldn’t have been able to see.”
“How awful for her,” said Millie.
“Emma panicked,” said Victoria. “She ran from the house towards her mother and reached the edge of the pond just as her mother’s head dipped below the surface. The poor girl was forced to jump into the water to save her mother. Luckily, when Beth felt the hand of another person on her arm, it broke the trance of despair she was in, and she allowed herself to be guided back to shore. When Beth realised it was her daughter who had jumped in to save her, she broke down. Emma phoned me, and when I arrived twenty minutes later, Emma had dried her mother off and put her in bed. She’s never stopped worrying about, and looking after her mother since. She’s practically her carer at this point. It’s been hard for them both these last few months. I do what I can, but Emma does the most.”
“I would imagine it’s not been easy for you, though,” said Millie.
Victoria’s face folded, and she blinked as tears brimmed in her eyes. ”There’s nothing worse for a mother than finding out that her child no longer wants the life she blew into her,” she said. “It’s heart-wrenching. I’m sure your mother would agree with me. Any mother would.”
“My mother died,” said Millie. “When I was ten.”
“Oh. It’s my turn to be sorry,” said Victoria. “How sad for you. I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose a mother at such a young age.”
“I’ve been luckier than most people who’ve lost somebody they loved,” said Millie. “I... I was able to speak to her after she’d died. Because she was a witch her energy still lived on after she had passed over, and I was able to cast a spell which brought her back. Just for a few minutes.”
Victoria sat upright and stared at Millie. “You brought her back here? In Spellbinder Bay?”
“Yes,” confirmed Millie.
“Hmm,” said Victoria. “A witch’s energy always finds its way back to a magical place the witch had lived in at some time during their life. So your mother must have lived here at some point if her energy is here.” She half closed her eyes as she studied Millie’s face. “Now I think about it; you do look familiar.”
Millie nodded. “Yes, she lived in the same cottage I did for a short period of time — Windy-dune Cottage,” she said, remembering how shocked she’d been when she’d first discovered that her mother had once lived in Spellbinder Bay and that she’d managed to keep her whole existence as a witch a secret from her daughter — a secret she had died with. “Her name was Josephine Thorn.”
Victoria nodded slowly. “I remember her,” she said. “I never had much to do with her, but I remember her. She was nice. I’m sorry to hear that she passed over. I do seem to recall that she left town quite abruptly, though.”
Victoria was right. Millie’s mother had left town abruptly — when she’d found out that she was pregnant with Sergeant Spencer’s child. Not wanting her unborn child to live a life which contained magic, she’d left town quickly, without telling Sergeant Spencer he was to be a father. She’d then spent the rest of her life hiding not only the truth about Millie’s father from her but also the fact that she and her daughter were both witches. Not wanting to divulge the whole of her personal history to Victoria, Millie simply nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I’m told by people who remember her that she left town abruptly.”
Victoria narrowed her eyes. “And because your mother had once lived in this magical town, her energy found its way back here when she died.”
“Yes,” said Millie.
“And you were able to harness her energy through the means of a spell and bring your mother back?” asked Victoria, her expression inquisitive.
Millie nodded. “Yes.”
Victoria’s face gave away the fact that she was deep in thought. Her eyes darted left and right, and her lips moved as she muttered something under her breath. After a few moments, she gave Millie an excited smile. “I study old magic,” she said. “I have many books on the subject, as does my daughter. I know what you did! You used the spell of unspoken words. You used the power of a dead person’s unheard last words to tie her to our world and bring her back, didn’t you? But how? That spell requires an ingredient out of reach to most of us — a pearl of wisdom, and it requires unheard words. How did you manage to cast such a powerful spell? How did you obtain a pearl of wisdom and how on earth did you harness the unheard words of a dead person? I’ve read about that spell, but I’ve never heard of anybody using it successfully.”
Millie shuddered as she remembered almost drowning as she dived deep into the ocean to retrieve a magical pearl of wisdom. She had been wearing a magical dress which had transformed her into a mermaid, but the moment she had reached out and touched one of the powerful pearls, the magic in the dress had faltered. She had sucked in water as the fin she had grown vanished and her ability to breathe underwater was taken from her. If it hadn’t been for the same mermaid Millie had borrowed the dress from, dragging her to the surface, she would have died on the seabed. She shook the traumatic memory from her mind. “I had help in finding a pearl of wisdom,” she said. “And my mother had left me a letter that I’d never read. Those were her unheard words.”
Victoria stared at Millie. “Amazing,” she said. “I’d never have thought that using written words would have worked.”
“It was a risk,” said Millie. “I wasn’t sure the magic would work, and I had to burn the letter to cast the spell. That letter contained answers to a lot of questions I needed answers to, and burning it meant I might never have got my answers if I hadn’t been able to bring my mother back.”
“But the spell did work,” said Victoria. “And you got the answers directly from your mother’s mouth?”
“Yes,” said Millie. “And while she was here she told me that the spell I’d cast ha
d formed a permanent bridge between wherever it is her energy resides and this world — but she’s never come back again. It’s been months, and she’s never returned. I’m scared that she was wrong. I’m scared that the spell was only good for one visit, and I don’t have any more unheard words to burn. I can’t cast that same spell again.”
Victoria looked towards the bottom of the garden, her brows furrowed. “Magic is complex,” she said. “I’m certain there is a good reason for why she hasn’t returned.” She looked towards the house and put a finger to her lips. “No more talk of death,” she said. “Emma is here.”
“Of course,” said Millie, sure that Emma had enough worries about her own mother without hearing about the death of somebody else’s.
Victoria stood up. “How is she, my darling?” she asked, as Emma approached the table, her face downcast.
“She’s asleep,” said Emma. “I gave her one of the chocolate cakes I made, and she cheered up a little, and then went to sleep.”
“Those cakes of yours work a treat,” said Victoria, winking at her granddaughter. “All that chocolate certainly helps cheer her up.” She smiled warmly at Emma. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, she’ll be okay. You go back inside for a moment while I say goodbye to Miss Thorn, and then we’ll practice some magic together. Let’s see if we can’t get you boiling some water by the end of the day.”
“Okay,” said Emma. “I’d like that, Nan.” She began walking back the way she’d come, but then hesitated and turned to face Millie. “Miss Thorn, may I ask a favour, please?”
“Of course you may,” said Millie. “What is it?”
Emma gave a wide grin. “I was hoping that you’d allow me to use the cookery classroom during the school holidays. It’s so much better equipped than our kitchen here at home, and the ovens are much bigger than the oven we have.” She dropped her eyes to the lawn and then smiled at her teacher. “I’d also like somewhere to go, somewhere I can... somewhere I can get away to, Miss.”
