I Put a Spell on You (21 page)

“Shit,” I said. “We’ve got bloody CCTV.”

We’d had it installed before we opened and I’d paid no attention to it whatsoever.

“How did you know?” I asked Louise.

“It’s all registered,” she said. “I was checking something else, and thought I’d check yours on a whim.”

“That was a good whim,” I said. I tucked my phone under my chin and pulled my bent leg up behind me to stretch out my thighs.

“So can you look at it?” she asked. “I would be very surprised if it goes back to when Star died or before, but most places keep files from a week or so – sometimes longer. You should be able to check and see what happened when the hot tub filled up with sewage, and see where Star’s diary went.”

“Can you come round?” I asked, hoping she wouldn’t be too busy.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’ve got to hit the gym with a mate. Let me know how you get on, though.”

I felt a bit deflated, but I promised to tell her if I saw anything.

I jogged up the stairs to the flat and let myself in. It was still pretty early so all was quiet. Esme and Jamie were obviously still asleep. I had a quick shower, then, as I waited for my bagel to toast, I rang Malcolm the IT guy.

“Och yes, you can check it any time you want,” he said. “There’s a log in and a password – emailing it to you now – and you can move between cameras to see whichever bit of the spa you want to see.”

“Is it just live?” I asked. My bagel popped up and I caught it, then dropped it again because it was too hot to touch. “Can I see what was recorded yesterday? Or last week?”

“You can see yesterday,” he said. “There’s a menu with the dates – just choose the one you want. Last week would be okay. But it only saves a week at a time.”

I thanked him and rang off. Then I spread my bagel with peanut butter, and sat down at the table with my breakfast, a cup of coffee and the iPad to watch the CCTV.

It was exactly as Malc had described, and it was very easy to find the camera that showed the Zen garden for the right date and time.

I clicked on it and a picture of the Zen garden filled my screen. It was deserted, of course. The wind chimes swung gently in an invisible breeze. I munched on my bagel and watched as absolutely nothing happened.

Then the screen went snowy, like on an old-fashioned television. I pressed a few keys, but it made no difference.

“Arse,” I said.

Then the screen cleared again, showing the Zen garden. Obviously just a blip. But hang on, there was me, standing in the doorway, a grim look on my face. I watched as I pulled my scarf over my face and walked towards the hot tub, which was clearly full of sewage.

“Arse,” I said again.

I rewound and watched it once more. But again the snow appeared on the screen at the exact moment the sewage must have started filling the tub.

“It’s like static,” I said aloud. “Magic.”

I found the camera that showed my office and watched myself reading Star’s diary, talking to Xander, and leaving the room. And then, once more, the screen went snowy. And when it cleared, the diary was gone.

Apparently magic had a bad effect on CCTV cameras. I texted Louise, saying there was nothing to be seen and went to shut down the iPad. Then I paused.

There were CCTV cameras in every room. All of them. My office. Xander’s office. Which meant whatever he and Esme had been up to yesterday would have been captured in all its glory.

My finger hovered over the option for Office 2, as Xander’s office was called on the menu bar.

Could I? Should I?

I knew I could, and I knew I shouldn’t. But I did.

The screen opened, showing Xander’s office. He was sitting at his desk, typing on his laptop. I fast-forwarded that bit – I knew he worked hard, I didn’t have to see it.

At a point about twenty minutes later, Esme arrived. She stuck her head round the door and Xander stood up, obviously delighted to see her.

I hit the volume key, turning it up as high as I could. The sound was distorted, but I could hear the voices.

Esme was upset. She looked like she’d been crying.

“Darling,” Xander said. I winced. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m being silly,” Esme said. “It’s nothing.”

“If it’s upset you, it’s not silly,” Xander said. He got up from his desk and put his arm round Esme. She melted in his embrace. Actually melted. I’d never seen her react like that before. She kind of shivered. Then she gazed up at Xander.

“I wanted to spend the day with Jamie,” she told him. “I had it all planned. But he’s playing rugby – obviously.”

She snuggled into Xander’s chest.

“I’ve barely seen him all week. He’s been working late, or going to the gym with Louise.” She spat out the name and I sat up a bit straighter. Jamie was seeing Louise? Why hadn’t she mentioned that? “What if he doesn’t want to marry me?” Esme wailed. “What if he’s changed his mind?”

She let out a sob, and Xander took control. He led her over to the desk and sat her down in the chair. Then he sat on the desk opposite her, his long legs either side of hers, and leaned forward.

“Has something else happened?” he asked. “Something apart from my spell book?”

Esme chewed her lip.

“Ez?” His face was close to hers.

“I fell out with Harry,” she said. “We had a huge row.”

She was making it sound way more dramatic – and much more recent – than it had been, I thought. Was she doing it deliberately?

“What do you mean?” Xander put his hand on her knee and she shivered again. I was intrigued by the animal effect he had on her.

“We did some divination,” she said, looking stricken as she remembered. “Harry asked who was doing all this…” She broke off.

‘And…’ Xander prompted.

“She thinks it’s me.” Esme’s voice cracked.

Xander put his hands on the arms of the chair and pulled Esme closer to him. He wrapped his calves around hers. I waited for her to pull away but she didn’t.

“It’s not you, though,” he said. “So why worry?”

He sounded so matter-of-fact, I wanted to smile but I couldn’t. Nor could Esme, by the look of it.

“It’s not that easy,” she said. ‘Harry’s barely talking to me, my fiancé’s spending all his time with another woman and…”

She stopped talking as Xander pulled her up to standing. He was so close to her you couldn’t slide one of my tarot cards in between their torsos. He held her hands tightly by her sides.

I watched, in horrified fascination, as Esme stood very still, staring into the middle of Xander’s chest. Very slowly, she looked up and he bent his head and kissed her softly on the lips. It was quite a chaste kiss, but the effect it had on Esme was immediate. Her legs almost buckled and I was quite sure that if Xander hadn’t been holding her she’d have fallen over.

“I should switch this off,” I thought. But I didn’t. I watched as Xander let go of Esme’s hands and slid his arms around her waist. His hand rested at the very base of her spine.

He pulled her towards him so their bodies were pressed against each other and kissed her again. This time it wasn’t so chaste. I almost felt like I was watching a film as he pushed her up against the wall.

“Esme,” he groaned. “I have wanted to do this since the moment we met.”

Esme didn’t speak. Instead she ran her hands under his soft jumper. I could see her fingers roaming across his taut stomach.

Encouraged, Xander pulled his jumper over his head and then expertly unbuttoned Esme’s shirt. I could see a glimpse of her pink bra as he pulled her towards him again with a grin. She gasped as her skin touched his.

I jumped out of my skin as the loo flushed and I heard someone approach the kitchen. I snapped my iPad case shut and shoved it into the washing machine, then I tried to look natural as Jamie came into the kitchen. Poor Jamie.

“You’re up early,” he said. “Have you been running?”

I nodded. I couldn’t speak to him in case I blurted out: “Esme kissed Xander.”

“Just off to the gym,” he said, necking a pint of water then leaving the glass upside down on the draining board without rinsing it out. “Laters.”

The front door slammed and the whole flat rattled, and I put my head in my hands.

What on earth was Esme doing?

Chapter 31

I didn’t have to worry about how to confront Esme about what I’d seen. I went to do some yoga in my bedroom – an attempt to calm my racing mind – and when I was done I found her in the kitchen, sitting at the table, staring into space.

“Are you ready to do some divination?” I said.

She looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes. I felt uncharitably irritated. She wasn’t the one who’d been forced to sit and watch what I’d watched.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Oh, H,” she said. “I’ve done something really stupid.”

“Is it Xander?” I wanted her to tell me what she’d done.

She nodded, then buried her face in her hands.

“Umphs, ths ahgh,” she said.

I closed my eyes briefly to control my annoyance. I was angry that she’d been kissing – and god knows what else – Xander, and that she was pretending to be a victim in all this.

“I can’t hear you,” I snapped “Look up.”

Esme raised her head.

“I kissed him,” she whispered. “We nearly…you know.”

“But you didn’t?”

“No,” she said. “We didn’t. I would have though, if we’d not been interrupted.”

“Oh god,” I said. “Was that when I came into his office? I wondered why you looked so weird. Urgh.”

Esme looked offended.

“We didn’t do anything,” she said. “Well, we did a bit…”

“Enough,” I said. I opened the fridge and peered inside, then I selected a Diet Coke and waved it at Esme. “Want one?”

She shook her head.

“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough,” she said. “I cheated on my fiancé, Harry.”

I opened the can with a fizz and sat down at the table.

“Have you told him?”

“No!” Esme frowned. “Do you think I should?”

It was my turn to look horrified.

“No! Definitely not.”

I swigged my Coke.

“Was it a one-off? A mistake?” I asked, desperate to wrap things up so we could get on with the divination. I was in no mood to hear her excuses.

“Absolutely,” Esme said. I wasn’t sure she was sure, but I let it go.

“Then don’t mention it to Jamie. Why upset him unnecessarily?”

Esme ran her fingers through her hair.

“You think?” she said.

“I know,” I said. “It’s probably just wedding nerves. Probably you were just having a last fling before tying the knot.”

“Wedding nerves,” she said. “Right.”

She grinned at me.

“Wedding nerves,” she said again. She sounded relieved. “That’s it.”

“That’s it,” I agreed.

“He has a weird effect on me, Harry,” she said. “It’s like something happens to me when he’s around.”

I snorted.

“That’s lust,” I said.

“No,” she said. “It’s different. Jamie and I, we’ve never had any problems in that area. But this makes me feel out of control.”

“It’s wedding nerves,” I said again. “That’s it. Just nerves. Nothing to worry about.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

“Are we sorted then?” I asked. “Because I need you.”

Esme seemed shocked that her dilemma had been dealt with so quickly, but she pulled herself together and actually looked pleased to be distracted.

“Go on then,” she said. “What are we doing?”

“Divination. No,” I said, as she started to protest. “It’s mirror divination. It’s different – more accurate. Come on.”

I opened the washing machine and took out my iPad, ignoring Esme’s raised eyebrow. Then I led the way down the hall, where I took down the round mirror that hung opposite the front door. Then I went into the lounge and put it down on the floor.

Esme looked down at the mirror, then up at me in expectation.

“What do we do?” she said.

I sat on the floor and opened my iPad.

“Look,” I said, opening a web page. “There’s an incantation we say, then the mirror should act as a kind of screen.”

“Really?” Esme said doubtfully, sitting down next to me. “And it’ll work with two of us?”

“Apparently,” I said. Witchcraft was more powerful with three, but according to the research I’d done, divination didn’t use much energy. I still wanted Esme there though. I was fairly certain she’d had nothing to do with the hate campaign, but it was definitely weird how the smoke had wrapped itself round her last time, and I wanted to see what happened now.

I crossed my legs and rested the iPad on my thighs. Then I took Esme’s hands across the mirror and quietly chanted the words on the webpage.

Nothing happened at first. The air around us shimmered slightly but our reflections stayed still in the mirror. Esme looked worried and tired, and I looked every one of the ten years I had on her.

I repeated the words, a bit louder this time and the shimmering became more obvious. Our reflections started to fade from the mirror. Esme looked at me with nervous eyes, but I ignored her, repeating the words again.

This time there was no mistaking the shimmer, and we could no longer see ourselves in the mirror. Instead the glass turned opaque then heaved and sighed, like thick mud.

“Why is this happening?” I said.

Esme gripped my fingers tightly.

“Why is this happening?” I said again.

The glass heaved once more and then fell still. The darkness cleared from the surface and we saw a dirt track, full of potholes. The sun blazed down and dust was churned up from the wheels of a minibus that drove past. A young woman, dressed in a cheesecloth blouse and denim shorts wandered past. She was white, with long wavy blonde hair like Esme’s.

“Mum,” I breathed. “That’s my mum.”

Esme took a sharp breath.

“Are you sure?” she said.

“Completely. But she’s so young. Where is she?”

“India,” Esme said. “That’s India. Maybe this is to do with the travelling she did.”

I was bewildered and not a little annoyed.

“That was almost forty years ago,” I said. “Why is it showing us this?”

The mirror darkened again. Then it cleared once more and we saw Mum again. This time she was sitting on a patch of grass with a pretty redheaded girl and a handsome, dark-skinned man wearing a turban.