A Spell in the Country

by Heide Goody

“It’s obvious,” said Caroline.

  “Is it?”

  “I’ll contact Doug Bowman.”

  “What?”

  “Maybe meet up with him. He doesn’t know I’m anything to do with this.”

  “That sounds a bit dangerous, poppet,” said Dee.

  “Why is it that only wicked witches get to use that witchy fire stuff?” said Kay as Dee folded the map pieces back into a pile. “Times like this, a bit of fire power would be bloody handier than healing ointments, stage hypnotism and animal control.”

  “Oh, don’t be jealous, sweetness, not even in jest,” said Dee. “When a witch is wicked, she does terrible, terrible things.”

  “A little wickedness can be fun,” said Caroline.

  “Amen, sister,” said Jizzimus.

  I’ve been reading Armadel’s Second Grimoire,” said Dee. “Honestly, it would make your toes curl.”

  “Really?”

  “That Elizabeth Báthory who Norma mentioned, she killed over six hundred women so she could bathe in their blood.”

  “Dee, you shouldn’t believe all that,” said Caroline. “These things always get so exaggerated.”

  “No, it said in the book. Sanguinem veneficae bibit. That’s Latin for ‘the witch drank their blood’.”

  “More likely some poor disturbed girl who killed a couple of people, max. Women serial killers are very rare. And how’s anyone going to kill over six hundred people?”

  “She was a noblewoman, she summoned young women and they came,” said Dee, peeved at Caroline’s dismissal. “Anyway Kay, good will prevail without the aid of witchfire, and you’ve got your friends here to help you.”

  They filed out of the hut and crossed the grass to Effie’s main hut.

  Jenny asked: “Your book, does it mention other magical creatures? Like trolls?”

  “No, it sticks firmly to the facts,” said Dee.

  “Yeah, but facts about trolls.”

  “No mythical beasts in there at all. The only unusual creature in it is a witch’s imp.”

  Jenny sighed. “I saw something in that dyke. And I don’t mean your flaming tree monster.”

  “What did it look like?” said Dee.

  “Like a tumour with a face and a grudge. And it was way too big to be an imp.”

  “How do you know how big an imp is?” asked Kay, skipping up behind Jenny.

  “Um. I assumed,” said Jenny. “Aren’t they normally depicted as being about the size of a cat?”

  “There are some lovely woodcuts in the book,” said Dee. “And yes, the imps are shown as smallish ugly things.”

  “Not ’avin’ that boss!” Jizzimus danced with rage. “You tell ’er there’s imps wiv massive knobs and film star looks, Tell ’er!”

  “Imps sort of grow with the age and wickedness of the witch,” said Dee. “How big was this thing you thought you saw?”

  “Thought I saw?” said Jenny, affronted.

  “Was it before or after you were hit by the car?” asked Kay.

  Lesson time.

  “Morning class,” said Effie brightly. She was wearing a t-shirt that declared she was Mellow Yellow. “It’s the final week of our course. Hasn’t the time flown?”

  “Practically galloped,” said Shazam.

  “And although we will be doing a formal evaluation, feedback and circle time session on Friday, I’m sure you’ll agree that it has been a roaring success.”

  “Most educational,” agreed Dee.

  “I will be meeting with Mrs du Plessis this evening and, as well as extending our thanks for the use of her facilities, I will be proposing plans for the next round of witch training. My team has already been scouring the country for new recruits.”

  “By team, she means that long streak of reefer madness, Madison Fray,” whispered Caroline.

  “And I can only see this academy of witchcraft going from strength to strength.”

  “An academy, is it now?” said Norma.

  “Perhaps,” said Effie smoothly, “Today we’re going to look at a very useful set of magical tools for your magical toolbox. Let me show you something.”

  Caroline surreptitiously nudged Norma. “Has Zoffner put his magical tool in your toolbox recently?” she whispered.

  “Don’t be filthy!” whispered Norma in reply, turning a vibrant red colour.

  Effie had turned on the projector and focused the image. It showed a document covered in spidery writing on the cusp of being totally illegible, even with the grainy image expanded to fill the wall. The thing that drew the eye immediately, however, was the embellished star in the bottom right corner.

  “Now, this photograph is of a parchment found under a beam at Gelli Bach farmhouse in Wales. It was hidden there for a very good reason. Anyone want to guess what that might have been?”

  “Is it a protection spell?” asked Shazam, her eyes bright with recognition.

  “Yes it is Sharon, well done!” said Effie. “The pentagram illustrates the intended—”

  “It’s got six points. It’s not a pentagram,” said Norma.

  “The six-sided pentagram—”

  “Shouldn’t it be a hexagram then?” asked Jenny.

  “No,” said Effie, without much certainty. “The point is, it’s a spell of protection. A spell to act against the effects of other spells. Now, what business applications can we all see for this type of spell?”

  “Oldest trick in the book,” said Caroline promptly. “Witches cast spells and witches sell protection against spells. My grandfather used to do something similar with foxes.”

  “He’d cast spells on them?” said Shazam.

  “He was a gamekeeper. He’d work summers south of the river, catching foxes on farmers’ land and releasing them north of the river.”

  “And the winter months working north of the river and sending them south,” said Norma. “Scandalous behaviour.”

  “Oh, I bet there were plenty of witches who stepped into both roles to keep things ticking over,” said Caroline. “I know I would.”

  “Succinctly put Caroline,” said Effie. “But we can’t always be sure who might be on the other end of such a transaction, which is why we’re going to practise those skills. Your next set of practical tests will focus on spells and counter spells. You’ll be pitting your wits against each other.”

  Jenny watched as Effie brought out two shoe boxes and jiggled them.

  “Wits, boss,” said Jizzimus. “Not your strong point.”

  “We need to make sure that we conduct this exercise on a level playing field,” said Effie, “so we will each draw a name out of here. The name that you draw out is the person you will target with your spells.”

  “Do we get to choose the spells?” asked Caroline.

  “No, you do not! I have selected a set of spells that will confirm success without causing any lasting harm. You will select them from this other box, but I have them all listed here.” She changed the slide on the projector.

  “Victim to be given green hair,” read Shazam. “Victim to do everything a chicken might do.”

  “I saw this video of a woman layin’ chicken eggs,” said Jizzimus. “I think they were eggs. Coulda been ping-pong balls.”

  “Victim to speak nothing but the truth,” Shazam continued. “Victim to speak in backslang.” She put her hand up. “What’s backslang?”

  “It’s where you say words backwards,” said Effie. “Used in the past by market traders to discuss things without alerting customers. They might have said something like the teebar’s a bit off today for example.”

  Shazam looked at her blankly.

  “It’s rabbit, Sharon. If they said that the rabbit was a bit off then no customers would buy it. That’s the point: it was used as a code.”

  “But people don’t eat rabbit,” said Shazam. “Rabbits are pets.”

  Dee shuffled in her seat and looked as if she too might have thoughts on the matter of eating rabbits.

  “Piece o’ cake, this,
” said Jizzimus. “Should I nip up there and add in a couple? Summat like Victim to make themselves available as a tasty snack? Make things a bit more interestin’?”

  “You are going to take a name from the box,” said Effie “And make sure you keep it to yourself. You will also take a spell from this box.”

  “It’s a bit like Secret Santa,” said Dee cheerfully.

  “Now obviously this is a test that will rely on your initiative, but if anyone’s got any tips they’d like to share with the group, now’s the time. You’ll be free to come and go as you please for the next two days while you carry out this exercise.”

  “Well I’m just glad that I’ve stocked up on talismans,” said Shazam. “I’ve got an adjustable ward-stopping stick, a glow in the dark warning pentangle and even an individual sleep-safe protection unit.”

  “I saw that in the shop,” said Caroline. “It’s a mosquito net with sequins on it. Honestly, Cobwebs, you should save your money!”

  “Well I for one will rely on my powers of foresight,” announced Norma. “I’ll be untouchable if I see you coming. Whoever you are!”

  “I don’t think you’ll be untouchable, Norma,” said Kay. “You’ll just have a bit of an advantage.”

  “How does that work, then?” asked Caroline. “If you know what’s going to be done, and who’s going to do it, how can you stop it? It would mean that your prediction was wrong.”

  “Interesting paradox, isn’t it?” said Effie with an approving nod. “Norma, how would you respond to that?”

  “I like to think of the future as a moveable feast,” said Norma, obviously warming to a pet subject.

  Jenny ignored Jizzimus as he twerked across the floor, miming his own version of a moveable feast.

  “If I see the future, as I so often do, it’s the most likely future at that particular moment. There is no reason at all why it can’t change if I choose. Hypothetically that is.”

  “Hypothetically. Do you seriously mean that you’ve never tried?” asked Caroline, incredulous.

  “It simply means that I have never tried hard enough,” sighed Norma. “Things do have a way of asserting themselves in the most unexpected ways.”

  “Absolutely,” said Caroline. “Fate is fate. There is no free will.”

  “And therefore no moral responsibility?” Jenny smirked.

  “Got it in one, Jen.”

  Kay straightened in her seat and stared intently at Norma. “Well I like the idea that we can change our future. Surely this would be a great time to try, while we have something that we can control?”

  “Like what?”

  “Why don’t you look now, into the future, I mean, and see who your target’s going to be?”

  There was a ripple of interested noises from around the room.

  “But then we’ll know who she’s got,” said Shazam. “Which will be unfair.”

  “We can gather the names back in and do the draw again afterwards.”

  “Very well,” said Effie. “Norma? Are you able to give us a prediction or do I need to pop the kettle on for a brew first?”

  Norma gave Effie a brief, stern gaze before looking round and pulling an ancient box of Scrabble from the board game pile in the corner. “This will serve well enough.” She took out the bag of Scrabble tiles and gave it a shake. “Right, let’s see the name of the person who is to oppose me in the coming days!”

  She upended the bag and the tiles clattered onto the table. Everyone stood up to see better as they landed. Jizzimus swung from the ceiling light to get the best view. Jenny craned to read the name on the table, but her attention was immediately drawn to Norma who gasped and turned pale.

  “What is it?” said Jenny.

  Norma’s hand covered her mouth, as though stifling a scream.

  “Who’s Lesley-Ann Faulkner?” said Caroline.

  “Interestin’ that,” observed Jizzimus from above. “Dint we meet ’er in the spa? Stroppy mare wiv the intravenous cocktail treatment?”

  Jenny could see that the only tiles which had landed face up clearly spelled out the name.

  “She’s a made up wicked witch,” said Dee.

  “Made up?” said Shazam.

  “Yeah, out of wood and stuff. We were using her for combat training.”

  But the expression on Norma’s face, the wordless horror in her eyes, spoke of something far worse than an effigy used for target practice. Norma backed away from the offensive letter tiles, shaking her head, hand over her mouth as though stifling a scream.

  Effie held up her hands. “It seems as though Norma’s skills have let her down today.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Norma. She turned and fled from the room.

  “Bloody hell,” said Caroline softly.

  “What could have gotten into her?” said Kay.

  “She said sorry,” mused Shazam. “She never says sorry.”

  “She says apologies are for the weak.”

  “That time she dropped her bee-typewriter thing on my toes—”

  “—she said it was your fault for having such freakishly huge feet.”

  “Class, I’m sorry for the distraction,” interrupted Effie. “This is all most unfortunate. Lesley-Ann Faulkner is someone who belongs firmly in Norma’s past and most certainly will not be causing any more problems for her in the future.”

  “This sounds like a story we all need to hear,” said Caroline.

  Effie was adamant. “I don’t think so.”

  “Is this to do with all that unspoken stuff between you and Norma?” asked Jenny.

  “Because she’s only here because of the threat of disciplinary action or somesuch, isn’t she?” said Caroline.

  “Is Lesley-Ann Faulkner a wicked witch?” asked Dee. “I mean, a real one.”

  “I’ve already told you there are no such things,” said Effie. “Not anymore.”

  “But Norma would disagree,” said Caroline.

  “So, maybe we ought to know about her – wicked or not,” said Kay. “In case, she turns up and tries to cause trouble for Norma.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” said Effie.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because she’s dead!” Effie’s jaw was trembling. Despite her t-shirt’s assurance, she was far from mellow. She turned away from them all and scooped Scrabble tiles back into the bag with shaking hands. “Lesley Ann-Faulkner is dead. And Norma killed her.”

  There was a silence, and it seemed as though nobody knew quite where to look.

  Effie cleared up the tiles, pulled the drawstring tight and only then looked each of her students in the eye. “Norma Looney is one of my oldest friends, but her delusion regarding the existence of wicked witches drove her to—” Effie shook her head. “She spent years gathering so-called proof of wicked witches, focusing on this harmless eighty-something woman in a care home in Eastbourne.”

  “And Norma…?” said Shazam. “She…?”

  “Pushed her off Beachy Head. A senseless crime for which Norma has spent the last nine years in prison.” Effie held out the shoe boxes. “Now. Your targets for the counter-spell exercise.”

  Everyone took a name from one box and a spell from the other.

  “If it’s all the same to you,” said Effie, “I’ll go and make sure that Norma has everything she needs. Enjoy the challenge everyone.”

  Jizzimus rolled his eyes and pointed as she left. “Bleedin’ witch murderer. There’s only one thing Norma needs and that’s a damned good—”

  Jenny cleared her throat loudly. The others were gathering their things, ready to leave. They paused and looked at her.

  “I didn’t want to say this in front of the others, but when I was in the spa I saw someone called Lesley-Ann Faulkner. Maybe Norma’s prediction wasn’t so wide of the mark after all.”

  “Interesting,” said Caroline. “Did she look like someone who’d managed to survive a fall off Beachy Head? I’d have thought that was beyond the powers of most spas.”

&
nbsp; “What is this Beachy Head?” asked Kay.

  “A cliff. A big cliff.”

  “Well it was quite a few years ago,” said Jenny. “If she survived then she’d be, er, better by now.”

  “No, it just can’t be true!” squeaked Dee. “There can’t be a wicked witch right here at the spa. There just can’t be! Surely it’s someone else with the same name or … or identity theft or something?”

  “The woman in the spa was no way in her eighties,” said Jenny. “Thirties more like.”

  “Well, there’s only one person who can say for sure,” said Shazam, trying to calm Mr Beetlebane who was agitated by the raised voices. “Norma needs to get a look at this person in the spa.”

  “I don’t think Norma wants to revisit that chapter of her life,” said Jenny.

  “Zoffner the Astute did say her spontaneous nature had got her into trouble before,” said Shazam.

  “And that there had been a resurrection,” said Jenny thoughtfully.

  “Dee, you’re the only one of us Norma has any time for,” said Caroline. “Can you persuade her to go and have a look?”

  Dee gave a reluctant nod.

  “And I guess we’d all better swot up on our spells and counter spells,” said Jenny.

  “Yeah,” said Shazam. “Particularly if we have to use them to fight off a real wicked witch.”

  They all sloped out of the hut and across the lawn. Jizzimus gave a low whistle as he ambled across the grass in front of Jenny.

  “They really don’ like wicked witches this lot, do they? Gunna have to watch yer back, guv. Anybody suggests a nice clifftop walk, you make yer excuses, yeah?”

  There was an ancient payphone in the annexe restaurant. George was cleaning out the coffee machine behind the bar. Caroline gave him a playful smile as she dialled and wondered how she had got through the bulk of a three week course without yet having her wicked way with him.

  Doug Bowman picked up on the second ring. “Yep?”

  “Guess who.”

  Bowman laughed. “Caz. You know what, I was just thinking about you.”

  “Thinking about me?”

  “A bit,” said Bowman.

  “Which bit were you thinking about?”

  Another laugh. “Cheeky. You know I only like you because of your winning personality.”