I Put a Spell on You (23 page)

“He’s so fond of you, Harry,” she said. “I can relax knowing he’s looking out for you.”

And so I stayed, all thoughts of escaping Edinburgh, Scotland, Europe, forgotten. The spa was still closed after the sewage incident so I had lots to do. And Esme, well, I couldn’t leave her, could I?

After Jamie left on that horrible Sunday morning, marching out of the flat with tears in his eyes, Esme was acting so strangely I’d have thought she’d been taking drugs if I hadn’t spent all morning with her.

I said as much to Xander, after Esme had run, crying, to her room. “It’s like she’s been drinking,” I said. “It’s as if she’s drunk.”

“Drunk on love,” he said, a gleam in his eye.

I wasn’t happy.

“Lust more like,” I snapped. “Look, Xander, I know you can’t help yourself around women but she’s my cousin – my baby cousin. She is engaged and she’s off limits.”

Xander did have the grace to look slightly sheepish.

“I know,” he said. “She’s just so sweet, I couldn’t resist.”

“Try,” I said. I bent down and picked up the mirror. “She’s probably ruined her relationship with Jamie now, just so you could have a quick fumble.”

Jamie’s stricken face crossed my mind.

“Poor guy,” I murmured.

Xander threw himself onto the sofa.

“Don’t feel sorry for him,” Xander said. “He’s been doing it with Louise.”

I was shocked to hear it said out loud and I wondered if Xander knew something I didn’t – more than just the pictures Esme and I had seen in the mirror.

Lou and I hadn't talked about it explicitly but I’d assumed she was gay. We’d definitely clicked and there had been a lot of flirting and quite a lot of touching – hugging and kisses on the cheek, and whatnot. I’d started thinking about asking her to dinner, wondering if my heart had healed enough after Nat to risk another relationship.

“Really?” I said to Xander, who was now lying flat out on the sofa, his eyes closed. “Louise? Really?”

“That’s what Ez said.”

I looked at him in disgust.

“You’re not sorry at all, are you?” I said. “My cousin is through there, crying her eyes out and you’re not sorry at all.”

Xander jumped to his feet and gave me a dazzling smile.

“I’m not the one who’s in trouble,” he said. He picked up his green and white scarf, which was lying over the back of a chair, and slung it round his neck.

“I’m sorry about Esme, okay, but we’ve got a hot tub full of sewage to sort out. Coming?”

We’d gone to the spa that day. Before we left I knocked softly on Esme’s bedroom door. There was no reply. I opened it a fraction and poked my head round. She was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“I’m going to work,” I whispered, not sure why I wasn’t talking normally. “Ring me if you want anything.”

Esme didn’t answer, so I closed her door again and Xander and I went out into the cold February day.

When we arrived at In Harmony, we looked at the once beautiful Zen garden. The dome I’d put over the tub had stopped the sewage spreading but I knew I had to take it off again, so the plumber could do his job.

“Brace yourself,” I said. I waved my hand and the dome disappeared. Murky brown water sploshed over the top of the tub, onto the decking and beyond. I wanted to cry.

The plumber Xander had called recoiled from the smell as we opened the door later.

“This is bad,” he said, picking his way across the garden to where the sewage was still pumping over the edge of the hot tub.

“I know that,” I said. “What I need you to do is stop it.”

Xander laid his hand gently on my arm.

“Just let him do his job, Harry,” he said.

The plumber raised his eyebrows at him.

“She’s a nippy one,” he said. Xander nodded sadly.

“Oh she gets much worse,” he said.

Annoyed, I flounced off to reception where the smell still hung, though less pungently. I printed out a notices to say the spa was closed, then I emailed everyone on our mailing list explaining, and offering them the chance to rebook their cancelled appointments at a hefty discount. I tried not to think about how much this whole fiasco was costing me.

I looked up as the plumber came into reception.

“I’ve stopped the leak for now,” he said. “But it’s not permanent. I’ll come back in the week and replace the pipe, but I’ve had to turn the water off until then.”

I wrote him a cheque for an eye-watering amount and let him out of the heavy front door.

“Bye then,” he said cheerily as he threw his tool bag into the back of his van. “Good luck with the cleaning up.”

Exhausted suddenly, I leaned against the doorframe and watched him drive away. I couldn’t face going back inside.

Xander appeared beside me.

“Come on, Cinders,” he said. “Let’s roll up our sleeves and get cracking.”

I looked at him. He was wearing rubber gloves and clutching a mop in one hand and a bucket in the other.

“For someone so clever, you can be really stupid at times,” I said.

Xander looked injured.

“What?” he said.

I took the bucket from him and together we walked towards the Zen garden.

“For a start there’s no water,” I said. Xander looked a bit embarrassed.

“I’d forgotten that,” he said. I opened the door to the garden, holding my scarf over my nose to guard against the smell.

“And secondly, because I can do this,” I said. I braced myself – I needed some powerful spells here – waggled my fingers, and shot a bolt of magic into the garden.

A shimmering sheen hovered over the plants and cascaded down like rain. I looked on in satisfaction as the brown detritus left behind by the leak dissolved and the water level in the hot tub went down. It took a while – almost an hour – for the magic to do its job. I had to keep topping it up, firing sparks across the garden while Xander looked on, a curious expression on his face.

Eventually, the sewage was gone, the garden was green once more and I was exhausted.

I closed the door to the Zen garden, stumbling a little as I did.

“Whoa,” said Xander, catching me before I hit the deck. “That really took it out of you, huh?”

I nodded. Magic could be hard work at times, and on top of a difficult day, it had wiped me out.

He draped my coat round my shoulders.

“I’m taking you out for dinner,” he said. “You need a bit of TLC.”

I thought briefly of Esme, who was probably still lying on her bed staring at the ceiling, and who was more in need of TLC than anyone.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t have dinner with you. Not with things the way they are.”

A shadow crossed Xander’s face, then he smiled again.

“No problem,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I shrugged my arms into the sleeves of my coat and turned off the lights in the spa.

“Tomorrow,” I said.

That was Sunday and today was Thursday. It had been a stressful week. I’d barely seen Esme. She’d phoned in sick to work and cocooned herself in her bedroom. She wouldn’t talk to me, she wouldn’t eat – just drank endless cups of tea – and she wouldn’t answer her phone. Every day she left increasingly desperate messages on Jamie’s voicemail but so far he hadn’t returned her calls. I’d had a message from Lou saying Jamie was staying with her and asking me if I wanted to grab a coffee. I’d not replied. I still couldn’t believe she and Jamie were an item, but then why would he be staying with her if not? Fortunately I’d been too busy at work to dwell on it. The repair job had turned out to be more complicated than the plumber had thought, and it had taken hours of work and more painful amounts of money before it was sorted. But finally, it was done. The plumber – and his assistant – appeared in the door of my office looking triumphant.

“All done, hen,” he said. “We got there in the end.”

I beamed at him.

“Really?” I said. “So we can open up again?”

“Whenever you want. Water’s on and you’re ready to go.”

I was overwhelmed with relief.

“You’re fabulous,” I said, giving him a hug. “Whenever you want reflexology, come and see me.”

He looked pleased.

“I will,” he said.

So having got the green light, I sat down at my desk and composed an email to all our clients. I told them we were up and running again and invited them to book a treatment at a discounted rate. I pressed send and sat back in my chair in satisfaction. I was still in the game.

Then my phone rang.

“Harry, it’s Belinda,” a voice said. Belinda was one of my most loyal clients – she came to yoga classes several times a week, booked in for regular treatments and occasionally visited me for spiritual counselling.

“Hello,” I said, pleased to hear from her. “What’s up?”

“I just got your email,” she said, her voice strained.

“Great,” I said. “What can I book you in for?”

“Book me in?” she said in surprise. “Are you going to be carrying on for a while longer then?”

“We’re completely back to normal,” I said. “And we’re offering a 10% discount for a while.”

There was a pause.

“But the email…” Belinda began. She started again. “I was phoning to say how sorry I am that you’re closing.”

I went cold.

“What did you say?”

“I just got your email,” she said, sounding more uncertain than before. “It says you’re closing down.”

“It. Says. What?” I hissed.

“We are sorry to inform you that due to circumstances beyond our control In Harmony will be closed with immediate effect,” she read out. “Thank you for your support.”

I was so flabbergasted I couldn’t speak. The email I’d sent had thanked everyone for their support, but it had also announced that we’d be open the next day at ten am as usual.

Xander appeared in my doorway.

“We’ve got a bit of a problem,” he said. I held up my finger to let him know I was just finishing my conversation and not to go anywhere (amazing what one finger could convey). Somehow I managed to reassure Belinda that we weren’t closing, asked her to tell all her friends, and thanked her for phoning. Then I hung up and looked at Xander.

“The email…” he began.

“I know,” I wailed. “How could this happen?”

Xander looked sympathetic.

“We must have been hacked,” he said. “I’ll call Malcolm and find out how it could have happened. In the meantime, though, we should get cracking on damage limitation.”

I slumped onto my desk. I was so tired my bones hurt, but I knew Xander was right.

Quickly I typed out another email, urging everyone to ignore the one before and again offering an even heftier discount. But this time, when I went to add the email addresses from the client database, the database I’d painstakingly restored after the power cut, nothing happened.

“That’s weird,” I said, clicking on the ‘to’ box again.

Xander leaned over.

“What’s happening?” he said.

“Nothing,” I said. “Nothing.”

“Show me the client list,” he said. I clicked on the folder and it opened – but there was nothing there.

“There’s nothing there,” I said. My voice had gone a bit squeaky. “Xander, there’s nothing there.”

“There must be,” he said, peering at the screen.

But there wasn’t. Our entire client database had gone.

“Oh flipping heck,” I said, annoyed but not too worried. I still had the memory stick with the database on it. I fished in my desk drawer and found it, then stuck it in the side of my laptop. The little icon appeared and I clicked on it in triumph, then watched in dismay as my screen filled with gobbledy-gook.

“The file’s corrupted,” Xander said. “Is that your only copy?”

I nodded, thinking about how I’d considered asking Esme to copy it but changed my mind, and cursed myself.

My heart sinking, I called Malcolm.

“I’ll try to restore it,” he said, “but it could take a few days.”

Defeated, I hung up and lay back in my chair.

“I’m going home,” I said to Xander.

“Want me to come?” he said.

I laughed, though I didn’t think it was very funny.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea, do you?”

He shrugged.

“Suppose not,” he said. He kissed me quickly on the cheek. “I’ll call you later.”

Chapter 34

Subdued, I slunk home, hunched down in my coat like an old woman. I had no energy. I didn’t want to be at work and I didn’t want to go home and deal with Esme, who was bound to be wilting round the flat like a deflated balloon.

I thought I’d get home, make myself a hot chocolate, then hide in my bedroom for the evening with my
Sex and the City
box set – always a friend in a time of crisis. But as I approached the flat, a police car drew up outside, double parking and blocking the road. A willowy figure got out of the passenger side, then bent over to the window.

“Thanks for the lift,” she said. She turned and, through the twilight gloom, I saw it was Louise.

My treacherous heart skipped a beat. So I got a bit grumpy.

“What are you doing here?” I said, as I drew near. “You can’t come in the flat, Esme will do her nut.”

“I came to see if you’reokay,” she said, ignoring my mention of Esme. “You don’t lookokay.”

“I’m fine,” I said. I ducked my head and looked in my bag for my keys, hoping she wouldn’t notice the tears that had sprung into my eyes.

“Harry,” she said. “Can I come in?”

“No,” I said. “No you can’t. I’ve had a shitty day and a really shitty week. I want to be by myself and enjoy my evening, but I can’t because my cousin is up there,” I jabbed my keys in the direction of the flat, “crying all the time because she thinks her fiancé is having an affair with you. And I have to pretend I feel sorry for her, which I do a bit, but really I’m just humiliated because I thought…” I trailed off and looked at Louise, who was standing stock still, under the streetlight. She looked shocked.

“You thought?” she prompted. She took a step towards me.

“I thought there was something between us,” I said. “But I was obviously wrong. Thanks for coming by, but I’m fine.”

I turned to walk up the path, but Lou caught my hand.

“Harry,” she said. “This is crazy.”

I turned to face her, but I didn’t pull my hand away even though I wanted to.