“Oh, those studies.”
“Yes, those studies.”
Scarlett smiled. “Great.”
“You picking it up okay?”
She appreciated her aunt’s interest, but didn’t like being put on the spot like this. If she admitted she had self-doubts, it would spoil the atmosphere and a shadow would fall on an otherwise enjoyable morning. “Yes. Absolutely fine.”
Tabitha scooped up some more vegetables. “Good. From what I’ve seen so far, you’ll make a great witch. It’s just… ”
Scarlett frowned. “What?”
“Oh, it’s nothing, it’s just… be careful. Magic is about much more than cheap conjuring tricks. You need to treat it like you would a wild animal. It might be interesting, but it’s dangerous.”
Scarlett furrowed her brow. “I know that Aunt Tabitha…” Her voice faded. “What?”
“Black magic, dear. I’m talking about black magic.”
“What on Earth makes you think I’m interested in black magic?” Scarlett’s mind raced, trying desperately to come up with the answer before her aunt could reply. Tarquin. She’s been talking to Tarquin.
Tabitha pushed the jar across the worktop. “Oh, err, nothing. I was just saying, that’s all.”
Scarlett nodded, took another scoop of vegetables and spent the next few minutes working in silence as she replayed everything that had gone on in the bookstore.
“You, um, been talking to Tarquin, lately?”
Tabitha picked up the pace. “Tarquin? Yes, I was speaking to him just the other day. What makes you ask that?”
“Oh, nothing. It’s just I saw him on Thursday and, the way he was talking, he made it sound, well, he gave me the impression anyway, that you’d been seeing rather a lot of each other.”
Tabitha laughed. “Seeing a lot of each other? Oh, that’s ridiculous. We’ve only spoken to each other a few times since the breakout.”
“Really?” Scarlett laughed. “Are you sure about that?”
“Let me think… Oh yes, I did bump into him yesterday, come to think of it.” She placed a hand over her forehead and shook her head. “Poor short-term memory. Now that’s a sign I’m getting old if ever there was one.”
Scarlett smirked and turned around.
“So how often have you been seeing him?”
“Seeing him?” Tabitha laughed. “You make it sound like we’re sneaking around together like a couple of teenagers.”
“Spoke to him. I meant spoke to him.”
“Oh, well, I don’t know. Just enough to maintain our friendship. You know, now and then, like you and that girl you’re friendly with. What’s her name… Amanda?”
Scarlett laughed. “Aunt Tabitha, you’re being evasive. Sounds to me like things are starting to get serious.”
Tabitha took another scoop of vegetables, tipped them to the jar and picked up the spices. “Must get on with these,” she muttered, changing the subject. “They're cluttering up the place. They’ll start to smell when they turn.”
Scarlett shook her head and focused on the jar she was sealing. “Whatever you say, Auntie.”
They worked in silence for a few minutes until Tabitha started to hum again, recreating the cozy atmosphere of earlier. Scarlett considered her aunt’s relationship with the bookseller once more. Tabitha had definitely been evasive before, lending weight to her theory about Tarquin. And all that nonsense about forgetting she’d spoken to him… Just who did she think she was trying to kid with that one?
Both of them were clearly lonely and they obviously thought the world of each other. She tried to picture them together, walking the streets, hand in hand. However good they looked together though, she still couldn’t work out how she’d feel if or when they made an announcement.
Maybe she’d underestimated them, and Tarquin wouldn’t suddenly turn into uncle Tarquin and start treating her like a child. For that matter, the opposite might turn out to be true. Instead of her becoming the baby of the group, she might find herself neglected. Tabitha would have someone else to dote over.
She glanced through the kitchen window and considered the possibility that this would be the last time she’d set eyes on the vegetable plot for a while. A blackbird swooped down and descended on the garden. Scarlett grinned at the irony. “Aunt Tabitha. Look! There’s a bird in the garden.”
“What?” Tabitha dashed outside to shoo the bird away.
“Just planted a whole new batch of seeds,” Tabitha said, closing the door. “Don’t want them being eaten before they’ve had time to grow.”
But Scarlett’s mind had already made the link to Raven. “You could do with a cat.”
Tabitha chuckled. “You’re not wrong there, dear. I’ve been thinking about it for some time.”
She couldn’t resist it, despite knowing that her aunt wouldn’t have a clue what she was talking about. “You could find yourself a young witch, not me, and cast a spell on her.” Scarlett laughed.
Tabitha turned around. “I told you to take it seriously.”
“Sorry, Aunt Tabitha. It was a joke, you see. Remember that cat, Raven? Well—”
“Of course I remember,” she shook her head. “Terrible situation.”
“Terrible? Why? What do you mean?”
“Someone turned her into a cat, possibly for their own gain. That, my dear, is an example of black magic and precisely the kind of thing I was talking about earlier.”
“But you got it wrong, she—”
Tabitha gave her a withering look. “No, buts, Scarlett. This is serious business. I mean it.”
Head down, she sighed. “Yes. I can see that.”
“Tarquin told me he caught you with your head in some books on Thursday, about the dark arts.”
“Yes, but I didn’t know that then,” Scarlett protested. “As soon as I pulled one from the shelf, I got this strange chill and Tarquin came marching in.”
“And what did he say?”
“Told me to put it down. So, I did, and I’d forgotten all about it until you brought the subject up, just now.”
Tabitha nodded approvingly. “Good to hear it.”
Scarlett’s eyes widened. “So, if those books were about black magic, then what was Tarquin doing with them to begin with? Oh, Aunt Tabitha, please be—”
Tabitha lifted her hand to silence her niece.
“Tarquin is a sorcerer. As such he is in a very powerful position. Many of his type have, err, switched sides. He needs to arm himself with all the knowledge he can.”
There was something about her aunt’s words, more specifically, her tone of voice, that sent a shiver right through her. “I had no idea.” She looked down at the floor. “So, what exactly, do these black sorcerers do?”
“As I said, they use magic for their own gain, or in some extreme circumstances… ” She seemed unwilling to speak on it further, but Scarlett pressed her.
“Aunt Tabitha, what is it?”
Tabitha sighed. “As you have no doubt come to discover for yourself, the world is full of spiteful, vindictive people. Things like betrayal, jealousy, and anger corrupt their fragile minds, so they find a dark sorcerer and pay him to torture people.”
“For revenge you mean?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
Scarlett took a deep breath and forced the words out. “What kind of torture?”
“The worst kind,” she said, shaking her head solemnly. “Mental torture. They can make people hear voices, convince them they’re going insane, twist their thoughts, deprive them of sleep and push them to the very edge.” Her tone turned grave. “Or further.”
Scarlett knew she had to ask the question. “What do you mean by further,” she squeaked.
Her aunt reached forwards to steady herself on the back of a chair. “Scarlett, you ask far too many questions.”
“Oh, Aunt Tabitha, are you okay? I’m sorry, it doesn’t matter. You don’t have to tell me.”
Tabitha met Scarlett’s eyes with
a gaze of fierce determination. “No. You have to hear this. I have to tell you.”
Her breath grew shallow. “Tell me what?”
“When I was a girl, I had a friend. A very close friend, who… ” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Who fell in with the wrong crowd and got on the wrong side of someone who knew a black sorcerer. He paid the sorcerer to carry out all kinds of torture. The sorcerer twisted her thoughts and made her hear voices.” She took a deep breath. “He turned her into a nervous wreck. She wouldn’t leave the house and couldn’t sleep for fear that someone would come and carry out some of the worst atrocities imaginable. She was weak and fragile so she couldn’t cope.
“She went back to the man she knew and begged him to tell the sorcerer to let her free, which, to his credit, he did. But, it was too late. By the time the spell was lifted, she’d already killed herself. They found her in a pool of blood. She’d slashed her wrists with a carving knife.” Tabitha pulled out the chair and sat down. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, dropping her face into her hands.
Scarlett placed a hand on Tabitha’s shoulder. “Aunt Tabitha I had no idea. I’m sorry. I didn’t know."
“No, I’m sorry,” the older woman said. “Sorry you had to hear that tale. If you want to do anything for me though, you’ll keep away from black magic. You won’t let your kind-hearted nature be twisted. You promise me.”
“Aunt Tabitha, of course I promise.”
“Well, just as long as that’s clear, let that be the end of it.” Tabitha got to her feet. “Now, let’s have a cup of tea before we finish those damned vegetables.”
+++
Sunday Morning
Slater residence, Bicester, England
Sunday mornings used to be special. As a child, Scarlett’s mother had marched her off to church, urging her to be quiet as they walked in case there were people trying to sleep. Then after church, they’d have lunch and spend the afternoon watching a film.
Times had changed of course, but to Scarlett, Sunday mornings would always be a time for reflection, when you could cleanse your mind of all its troubles whilst the sun shone in and the trees in the garden hissed and swayed in the gentle breeze.
After yesterday’s conversation with her aunt, this particular Sunday morning was greeted with the same enthusiasm that an aging witch greets an old and dear friend.
She emptied some cornflakes into a bowl, poured over some cold milk and sat at the table to enjoy the sunshine that was coming in through the window.
In no time at all she was focusing on the empty bowl in front of her. Raven, it seemed, was one of these people who choose to spend Sunday mornings in bed, which, in Scarlett’s view was a bit of a waste, but hey—each to their own.
As soon as Raven flashed into her mind, the wheels started turning in her head, and it wasn’t long before she was thinking through the murder and Raven’s revelation. It was with great reluctance that she decided to burst her bubble of peace once and for all and fetch her phone from her coat pocket. After finding the log of her last conversation with Tim, she set her thumbs to work.
Hi Tim, how are you? Any progress with the info you said you’d find?
After pressing the send button, she stared at her phone for a minute, before deciding to make herself a tea whilst she waited.
With the roaring kettle still ringing in her ears, she poured the water into a mug over a tea bag, mixed in some milk and sat down, to stare at the phone as she drank. The mug was all but drained by the time her phone started jumping around the table.
Hi darling, I’m well thanks. Just enjoying a lie in. Sorry, no progress with the info. Contact isn’t back at work until Monday.
She grinned. He was obviously too sleepy to realize Monday was tomorrow.
No problem Tim, thanks. Enjoy your lie in, you’ve earned it. Xxx
Oh well, she thought, pushing back her chair and extending her legs. There’s nothing more I can do, so I might as well enjoy the rest of my Sunday. She leaned back and cradled her head in her hands.
After staring through the window for five minutes, forcing her mind to blank everything out, she took a deep breath and got to her feet. She had nothing to do all day, so she might as well get out and start making her own inquiries. If she could find anything out, anything at all, she might be able to live with herself and spend the rest of the day relaxing. Besides, it wasn’t right to keep relying on Tim all the time.
After pausing at the kitchen door to say farewell to her Sunday morning, she put on her jacket, grabbed her laptop, and left the house.
Chapter Six
Sunday Afternoon
Police Station, Police House, Queens Ave, Bicester
Scarlett looked in her wing mirror, reversed out of her space and headed off along the road. By the time she’d turned the corner, all thoughts of relaxation and lazy Sundays had left her. She’d made her decision. She would dedicate the rest of the day to doing her own investigative work and she wasn’t going to stop until she had some answers.
Last time she had driven to the police station, it had taken ten minutes, but today the quiet roads saw her there in seven. Her indicator ticked and she pulled up in the carpark, back to a wooden fence, windscreen looking out at the side entrance to reception. Through a small window to the side of the reception desk, she could just about make out a uniformed police officer, typing away on her computer.
Despite all her recent dealings with the police, she still found police stations to be a bit disconcerting. It was like every time you stepped in, even if you had done nothing wrong at all, you were being watched, treated with suspicion as if you were about to pull out a gun or something. And then there was the matter of the criminals, who were locked up or being interrogated in the interview rooms. They might have someone like Peter Sutcliffe in there, waiting to prey on his next unsuspecting female.
Maybe it was just paranoia. But whatever it was, now that she’d arrived in the carpark, she found herself reluctant to take the plunge. Yes, Scarlett Slater had lost her nerve and shown her true colors at last. What she needed was a way of finding some answers without having to set foot inside. Staring through the window at the woman beavering away on her computer, Scarlett had an idea.
Browsing through the list of available networks on her phone, she saw the police’s internal system. It had been all over the news about their insecure networks, so maybe if she tried to connect ... She selected ‘Bicester Police’ and waited.
She watched the circle go around and around with a sliver of hope more than an expectation. Their network was bound to be secure, encrypted even, with a password that would take a hundred hackers ten years to decipher. The circle started to slow and she held her breath. Next thing she knew, her phone read ‘Connected to Bicester Police’. She shrieked and searched for the URL to their intranet. Once it appeared on the search engine results page, however, she left her finger hovering for a few seconds while she contemplated her next move.
Despite everything that she’d gotten herself embroiled in, she was still a law-abiding citizen. Of course, she’d had her fair share of scrapes, but still, she’d remained within the boundaries of the law. If she was to go ahead with this, it would represent a cornerstone moment. Hacking was illegal and if she did end up in one of the interview rooms, they might just throw the book at her.
On the flip side though, she had a duty to help and protect her friends. After all, there might come a time when she needed the same from them. And if they refused, due to some insignificant technicality of the law, she wouldn’t be pleased to say the least. It wasn’t like she’d be asking them to kill someone, was it?
Not only that, but there was nothing malicious about her intentions. She wanted to get the information for her friends, not for her own gain. No one was going to get hurt by it.
After a minute’s silent contemplating, weighing up the pros and cons, she touched the URL and waited for the police intranet to load.
After several minutes of to
uching, swiping and waiting, she found a file marked with McMillan’s name. “Yes!” she hissed, and casting an eye towards the reception desk, punched the air.
She tried to scroll down to read the document, but it was slow and kept jumping about all over the place. Absorbing the information using her phone was going to be practically impossible, so she copied the file to the cloud and disconnected from the police intranet.
When she looked up again, the woman at the desk in reception was looking right at her. Maybe they had some way of tracking who was using their intranet, maybe that was why the security appeared to be so poor. Oh my God. She was going to end up as an interviewee in one of those rooms. They were going to throw the book at her, turn her into an example.
Focusing on the road through the passenger window, she pulled out of the carpark, drove along the side of the building and took a right into town.
It was only once she’d turned at least two corners and become part of the Sunday traffic, that she was able to breathe a sigh of relief. If that police officer at the desk had indeed worked out that she was hacking their system, she was going to be in big trouble. And if they could identify her, they’d know where she lived. They were probably sending a car around at this very moment. She had to think quickly.
If the worst came to the worst and they arrested her, she’d need a lawyer. Inevitably, her mind flashed to what her aunt had told her the previous day about black sorcerers for hire, but she quickly dismissed the idea. However, if the police had concrete proof, and if she had any chance at all of clearing her name, her lawyer would have to get creative. Waiting at a set of traffic lights, she thought it all through logically.
She was trying to help out a friend in need. She’d done nothing wrong herself. And because her intentions were purely benevolent, all she had done was revealed a flaw in the security system’s deficiencies without the data falling into malicious hands. Really, they should be thanking her. She grinned. Yeah, that should do it. Panic over, she again focused on the job at hand.
Driving through town, she decided she didn’t want to risk Raven seeing her with the report. Her presence might cloud her judgment for one thing and Scarlett was determined to remain purely objective throughout her investigation. Besides, she needed to be around people right now. So, she made her way to Costa Coffee.
A Very British Witch Boxed Set Page 66
