The Language of Spells (20 page)

‘That bad, huh? Oh, man.’ Harry took another long drink. ‘He’s under a lot of pressure at the moment. Try to cut him a bit of slack.’

‘What sort of pressure?’

Harry took a long drink and wiped his mouth. ‘The firm’s been losing clients. Something to do with his grandfather passing cases onto Cam and the old crusty types in the town not trusting a young whippersnapper to do the old man’s job.’

‘Cam’s a good lawyer, though, isn’t he?’

Harry nodded. ‘Don’t ever tell him I said so, but, yeah. He is.’

‘Is the firm in money trouble?’

‘I don’t think it’s anywhere near that bad, but his mother …You know. She’s a little uptight and Cam gets the full force of it ‘cause she’s on her own.’

‘Since his dad died.’

‘He came back to look after her, you know. She fell apart after he died. Cam did a law degree just so that he could take his father’s place. It’s a lot of pressure.’

‘He seems to like it, now.’

‘Yeah,’ Harry said. ‘But it wasn’t the way he planned his life. He put his family first and I kind of admire that, you know? Not sure I would’ve done it.’

Gwen thought about her own reaction to family obligations: heading very fast in the opposite direction. ‘It can’t have been easy.’

Harry nodded. ‘Just do me a favour, okay?’

‘What?’

‘Don’t run away this time.’

‘Hey!’ Gwen felt the anger clench her stomach. ‘I’m staying. He’s the one who wants to keep everything separate, everything in his precious neat little boxes. He’s the one who acts like a complete stranger one moment and the next—’ She broke off.
The next he’s pulling my clothes off. Which I actually really like.

Harry shrugged. ‘You’ve lost me there.’

‘I’m not leaving,’ she said, realising that every time she said the words it strengthened her resolve. ‘Whatever happens with Cam, I’m staying.’ Gwen felt the truth of the words and waited for the accompanying terror. It didn’t come. End House seemed to have amplified her powers so that she didn’t even know if she’d be able to turn them off again, but Gwen realised that she felt remarkably calm about that.

‘Good,’ Harry said mildly. ‘Now eat your sandwich. You look knackered.’

Gwen passed a familiar figure on the way home. Katie was wearing a black hooded top and jeans and had her hands stuffed into her pockets. She looked half-frozen. Gwen pulled over opposite the bus stop and wound down her window. ‘Want a lift?’

Katie crossed the road and climbed into Nanette. She pulled headphones out of her ears and gave Gwen a quick smile. ‘Thanks. I think I missed my bus.’

‘Home?’

Katie nodded, not looking overjoyed at the prospect.

‘No problem.’ Gwen turned around at the next junction and pointed Nanette towards Bath. She glanced at Katie. She was staring out of the window, her face blank.

‘Bad day?’

Katie shrugged. ‘Not the best.’

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘Not really,’ Katie said. ‘If that’s okay.’

Gwen drove a little further. ‘You want to take a detour? We could go and throw rocks at something.’

Katie snorted. ‘What?’

‘Throwing things is very good for the soul.’

‘You’re mental,’ Katie said, but in a tone which made it sound like a good thing.

‘You’re afraid I’ll win. I can understand that. I have an excellent throwing arm.’

‘Maybe—’ Katie stopped speaking abruptly. Her neck twisted as she peered behind her seat, into the back of the van. She paused as if listening and then said, ‘Is there someone back there?’

‘No,’ Gwen said, a little spooked.

‘I thought I heard something. Well, not really heard.’ Katie hesitated, then rushed on. ‘You know that feeling you get that someone’s looking at you and you turn and they totally are?’

‘Yes,’ Gwen said.

‘I just had the weirdest feeling.’ She looked around again a couple more times. Abruptly, she leaned forward and began patting the footwell. ‘What’s this?’

Gwen glanced across and saw that Katie had one of Iris’s books in her hand. She didn’t even remember putting it in the car.

‘You can’t read that,’ she said.

Katie was already flicking through it. ‘God, I know. The writing’s terrible.’

‘No, I mean you shouldn’t. Your mum will have kittens.’

‘Good,’ Katie said. She began reading out loud. ‘“To forget old lovers; burn oregano. For enhanced fertility; place mandrake root under the mattress”. What’s mandrake root?’

‘A plant,’ Gwen said.

‘Sounds made up,’ Katie said, still flipping pages. ‘“To make a new friend or increase loving feelings, give biscuits or cakes baked with caraway seeds”.’

‘Please don’t,’ Gwen said. The traffic was building up as they approached Bath and she could only shoot tiny glances at Katie. ‘I’m sorry. I promise you’re not missing much. Iris was a bit eccentric.’

‘Like you,’ Katie said.

‘Maybe,’ Gwen said. She slowed Nanette for a queue, the red lights of the car in front reflecting on the wet road. ‘Can I have that back, please?’ She held out a hand for the book.

‘I’m so sick of people keeping secrets from me. I’m not a little kid.’

‘I know that,’ Gwen said.

‘Fine,’ Katie said angrily. Then she turned her face to the window and refused to speak again.

Katie’s stubborn silence upset Gwen more than she thought possible. She realised how much she had been enjoying being the cool aunt. And she was sick of tiptoeing around Ruby. It wasn’t as if she even agreed with her sister. Ruby thought that protecting Katie meant stifling her, lying to her. She glanced at Katie. She was a good kid. Trustworthy.

‘There are some things I could show you,’ Gwen said.

Katie looked up. Her smile was pure sunshine. ‘Can you show me how to hurt someone?’

‘What? Katie!’

‘Not hurt, then. Upset? Annoy? Embarrass.’

‘Is someone at school bothering you?’

Katie shrugged.

‘This isn’t going to work if you’re not going to be honest with me. I’m not your mum; you can talk to me.’

‘Will Jones flashed me.’

‘What? Hang on.’ Gwen pointed Nanette in the direction of the nearest parking space. She couldn’t concentrate on driving and wanted to look into Katie’s eyes.

‘Right.’ She pulled over. ‘Let’s get into the back.’

‘Okay.’ Katie unclicked her seat belt and climbed between the seats.

There was a single mattress piled with a duvet and cushions and Gwen arranged them into a kind of sofa. She switched on the wind-up camping lantern and closed all the curtains.

‘Cosy,’ Katie said, looking around approvingly. ‘I can’t believe you lived in here for a week, though.’

‘I don’t recommend it,’ Gwen said. ‘And it doesn’t exactly scream “excellent life choices”.’

Katie giggled. ‘I think it’s cool.’

Gwen resisted the urge to say,
That’s because you’re fourteen
.

‘So. Was it an old guy in a raincoat?’

Katie leaned back. ‘No. Will Jones is in my year. He was just trying to embarrass me in front of everyone by waving his you-know-what in my face. It was horrible.’

Little git
. Gwen fetched her tin of supplies from her handbag. ‘How would you like to give him an itch in his you-know-what?’

Katie sat forward. ‘You can do that?’

‘Just for a little while. Maybe during assembly or, even better, does he play football?’

‘Rugby.’

‘Perfect. Next big match, I predict Will Jones won’t be able to stop scratching his balls.’

Katie laughed. ‘That’s disgusting. But I don’t know if anyone will notice.’

‘They will,’ Gwen said. ‘I’m talking really itchy. Rolling around on the ground with both hands down his shorts itchy.’ She hesitated. ‘It’s something I’d better do, though. I think you need to start with something a little simpler. Safer. I don’t like Will Jones, but I don’t want him permanently disfigured.’

Katie’s eyes were wide. ‘Is that possible?’

‘The thing you need to remember about magic is that there are always consequences. It’s like scales, if one side goes up, then the other goes down.’ Gwen leaned forward a little. Katie was going to grow into a Harper woman; it wasn’t fair to keep her in the dark. ‘Look, before I opted out of the training, my mother taught me all kinds of spells and hexes. She showed me how to pay attention to things, to use my intuition like another sense, and she was completely obsessed with the Finding. She wanted me to practice it all the time. What she didn’t tell me was that you start to feel hollowed out. That if you do a spell that’s a bit too strong for you, you can zone out for days afterwards. You feel sick. You can’t think straight.’

Gwen hesitated. ‘Once, your mum tried something.’

Katie’s eyes went wide. ‘No way.’

Gwen nodded. ‘She didn’t inherit any special ability. I don’t know why. But Ruby was still raised by Gloria; she couldn’t help but pick up a few things here and there. Anyway, when I was really little, like five or six, I remember her landing up in bed for three weeks. She was really, really sick. Gloria told everyone it was flu, but it wasn’t. Ruby had wanted a Lego set that was too expensive. A castle, I think. She did a spell to make Gloria buy it for her and the after-effects damn-near killed her.’

‘Oh,’ Katie said, her face pale.

‘Do you see why she doesn’t want you to know about this stuff?’

‘I guess.’ Katie swallowed visibly. She was subdued for a moment and then she rallied. ‘Can you teach me to read cards?’

Gwen stopped herself from groaning out loud. Of course it had to be cards. ‘No problem,’ she said. ‘It’s not a game, though. You have to be careful with it. And you can’t tell anyone else. And you definitely can’t tell your mum.’ Gwen didn’t think she’d ever seen Katie so happy. It was like when she was petting Cat, times a hundred.

‘Cross my heart and hope to—’

‘Don’t say that,’ Gwen said quickly.

After a quick lesson in fortune-telling and a couple of friendship spells, Gwen drove Katie home.

She was rewarded with a quick strawberry-scented hug. ‘Bye, honeybunch.’

Katie paused, her hand on the door. ‘I asked my mum why you haven’t been around.’

‘It’s complicated,’ Gwen said.

‘She says that you found a boy who’d committed suicide. Found his body, I mean.’

Gwen nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

‘I know that must’ve been horrible and I can totally see why it messed you up and everything, but I don’t understand why you would run away.’

‘I didn’t run away,’ Gwen lied. ‘I like moving around and I’ve just never really found somewhere I’ve felt comfortable.’

‘You like it here now, though, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’ Gwen smiled. ‘I actually kind of do. If I can just keep a lid on all the crazy stuff and keep Iris’s books away from you and the rest of the town and convince everyone that I’m not like Iris and that I’m completely normal, then I might really like it.’

Katie gave her a quick smile. ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome. And, for the record, I know you’re not an idiot or a little kid. I’m just trying to stay on the right side of your mum. She’s scary when she’s protective. She’s like a lioness.’

Katie shrugged, her face closed again. Gwen felt a stab of sympathy for Ruby.

‘Goodbye, Auntie Gwen.’ Katie got out of the van, a couple of snowflakes swirling inside when she opened the door. She paused. ‘I don’t know why you want to be normal, though. What’s so brilliant about that? You’ve got a power, a purpose in life. Do you know how rare that is?’

Katie slammed the door and made her way up to the front door. Gwen let out a breath. ‘Bloody hell,’ she said quietly.

Gwen let herself into End House and hung her coat and hat on the hooks in the hall. She flicked the switch on the kettle – as if a cup of tea was going to settle the tingling in her skin – and began to tidy up the worktops in a half-hearted fashion. There was something in the back of her mind that was nagging at her. Like a word teetering on the tip of your tongue or an itch that seems to move as soon as you scratch it.

She filled the sink with hot water and began methodically washing up, staring out into the dark of the garden. A movement on the grass near the hedge startled her. A flash of fur, low to the ground. A fox?

And that did it. The niggling thought leaped to the foreground, fully formed and shaped like a rabbit. Gwen dried her hands on her jeans as she went back into the hallway. When she’d found the rabbit, she’d been so intent on burying it, so embarrassed at freaking out in front of Cam and so shaken that she’d picked up the button and pocketed it on autopilot. Some part of her had assumed it had laid in the garden for years, but it had been worrying away at her subconscious. What if the rabbit-killer had dropped it?

It was a clear blue plastic button. About half a centimetre across and with two holes. It looked brand new. Gwen placed it into her right palm and closed her eyes. The nausea had got so much better and the Finding seemed to come more quickly and clearly, too. Gwen couldn’t help but feel a tiny stab of pride as the images slotted neatly into place. It was nice to be good at something.
And Katie was right; who else could do this?

A pale blue shirt tucked into beige chinos, a braided leather belt. A black wool coat being pulled over the shirt, snagging on a button. Hands obscured by a bin liner, the plastic half-wrapped around a dead rabbit. The images flipped past fast, like a flick book, but Gwen held onto the last one, checking it carefully before she opened her eyes. It was a face in profile. Blond hair and a soft jawline, with a single cold blue eye visible. The journalist that she’d met at Lily’s house. Ryan.

If she’d been in any doubt before, that clinched it. She hauled the crate of notebooks upstairs and now, propped up against several pillows, with Cat draped across her lap and purring like a buzz saw, she began to look through them in earnest.

16
^th
June 2009. Number 12 having difficulty in the bedroom. Gave 3x prep. HWS, MF, CF. If that doesn’t make him go the distance, nothing will. NB. Render on outhouse needs repair.

She flipped the page, looking for references to ‘Lily’. For some clue as to why Lily had been terrorising Iris and had transferred that animosity – like an unwanted heirloom – to Gwen.

After months of tip-toeing around, Lily came right out and asked me today. She wants to be my acolyte. That’s actually the word she used. Silly woman. I’ve told her ‘no’ in a hundred different ways, but she still forced me to say it outright. I caught her looking through one of my books, too. I’ll have to keep them locked in the outhouse from now on. Be more careful. I’ve nailed bunches of broom above the doorways, but I know that won’t be enough. If I could, I’d ask Gloria to look at my cards. I have a very bad feeling about that woman.

Gwen felt sick. It was one thing to suspect that somebody was stalking you, but quite another to have it confirmed.

That bloody woman was here again today. In truth I grow afraid of her. There is something desperate in her eyes. At the moment she fears me more than I fear her, but I can feel that balance shifting. The scales are tipping in her favour. I have a confession to make: I’ve resorted to untruths to keep her in line. I’ve told her that I have evidence that would convict her of her father’s murder and that if anything unnatural happens to me, it will come to light. I didn’t realise, until that moment, that she was guilty. She was spitting and hissing like a cornered cat. I know that this won’t count as evidence, not the kind I’m pretending to hold, but I feel better writing it down anyway. She killed her own father to get his house.

I need to be more careful.

Gwen picked up the phone and dialled Gloria’s number. When her mother answered, she launched straight in, before she could lose her nerve. ‘Why did you abandon Iris? She was an old lady living on her own and we were the only family she had left.’

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘I know she took you in when Annie died. She didn’t have to do that.’

‘Iris was very dutiful,’ Gloria said, her voice several degrees below icy.

‘Well, what was so terrible? What did she do to deserve being cast out?’ Gwen felt sick; Iris alone, frightened. A murderer on her doorstep.

‘I didn’t cast her anywhere,’ Gloria said. ‘She didn’t want anything to do with me, either. With any of us.’

‘I don’t believe you. Why would she leave me her house if she didn’t care for me at all?’

‘You think that’s a blessing? You need to stay away from that place.’

‘I’m calling from that place; I’ve got nowhere else to live.’ Gwen closed her eyes and waited for the bolt of lightning to strike her down. After a moment she realised that she was still alive and that there was an ominous silence on the line. ‘Gloria?’ Gwen said, gripping the phone tightly. ‘Mum?’

‘When I came back to Pendleford, I thought it would be a new start. For all of us. I tried to tell people what they wanted to hear, instead of what the cards were really telling me, and I was good at it. I thought it would make things easier for you and Ruby.’

Gwen was stunned. ‘Did you ever think about not reading the cards at all? That would’ve made life easier.’

‘It’s not that simple, Gwen. You, of all people, should know that. Anyway, Iris didn’t approve. Said it was against the ancient code or something equally daft. We fought. We said nasty things that can’t be unsaid. It happens.’ There was the sound of a deep breath being taken. ‘I can’t believe you’re back in Pendleford. What about that nice man you were seeing; is he still around?’

‘Cam?’

‘Mmm. I liked him.’

Gwen was momentarily speechless. ‘I don’t remember that.’ She remembered Gloria telling her effectively the same as Elaine Laing; that she and Cam were from different worlds and had no future together. She’d dropped it in, casually, while reading the cards for something else entirely. Completely oblivious to the effect she was having, as usual.

‘Well, I didn’t give you any hassle over boys, did I?’ Gloria was saying. ‘I let you make your own mistakes. That’s called being a supportive mother and I can tell you I didn’t learn it from your great-aunt.’

‘There’s a difference between giving supportive freedom and simply not being interested.’

‘And there’s a difference between being a teenager and having the right to blame your mother for everything and being thirty-one and responsible for yourself.’

‘Wow, Gloria. You sound almost angry there. Better be careful; you’re in danger of actually having an emotion.’

‘I’m full of emotion, darling. Full of positivity and happy feelings; that’s probably why you don’t recognise them. You always were a glass half-empty kind of child.’

‘I’m going now,’ Gwen said. ‘Phone Ruby some time, will you?’

Gwen tried not to feel the emptiness of the house, but it pressed upon her. She pulled on a thick cardigan and hurried out to Nanette, rubbing her arms. She got in automatically, not letting herself think about it. Inside, it was only sensible to start the engine so that the heater would wake up. Then it seemed only natural to buckle her seat belt and reverse out of the drive.

She took the track to the main road slowly, wincing at the pot holes. If she stayed, she should really do something about those. The roads were quiet and she took turnings aimlessly, following small lanes through the countryside around the town. She’d always found driving good for thinking, but now her mind was blank. The motion soothed her, though. The mechanics of clutch-gear-shift, the ticking of the indicators. Darkness came in quickly and she flipped on her lights.

She’d made the decision unconsciously, but soon found herself on the main road towards Bath. She realised that she was heading towards her sister; that she was actually craving her company. She wasn’t going to examine the impulse any further. She wasn’t running away, she told herself. Just taking a break from being alone. Just for a little while.

David answered the door in a red-striped apron and reading glasses. ‘She’s having her hair done. Not sure when she’ll be back, I’m afraid.’

‘Which salon? I’ll go and keep her company under the drier.’

Gwen drove into the centre of Bath, thanking the parking gods when she found a free space in a side street.

The salon was sleek but inviting and, looking through the big front window, Gwen could see Ruby was the last customer. She was talking animatedly with a teeny-tiny woman wearing black.

She pushed the door open before either woman could look up and catch her gawping at them like Charlie Bucket through the chocolate factory gates.

‘Gwen?’ Ruby’s immaculate eyebrows drew together. ‘You’re here.’

‘I came to see you. David told me about your appointment.’

‘This is my friend Kim’s place.’ Ruby indicated the tiny woman who, Gwen couldn’t help but notice, was taking a professionally dispassionate inventory of Gwen’s appearance. ‘Gwen’s my sister,’ Ruby said.

‘Very nice.’ Gwen looked around at the work stations with modern leather chairs, the gleaming display of hair products, and the space-age light fittings that cast a pleasant, flattering light.

‘Kim’s finished with me.’ Ruby picked up her bag. ‘Do you want to go?’ She paused. ‘Unless you want to get your hair done.’

It was an old joke.

‘I’d love to cut your hair,’ Kim said earnestly. She reached out and ran a lock through her fingers.

‘Don’t even bother trying,’ Ruby said. ‘She won’t let you.’

Gwen was going to say something else, but she was caught by her refection in one of the many mirrors. All the flattering light in the world couldn’t disguise the horror. Her usually pale skin was greenish, and the dark shadows underneath her eyes stood out, which didn’t help, but her hair sat lank against her head. The natural wave just made it look messy and the centre parting she’d been sporting since primary school looked old-fashioned and middle-aged. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘What?’ Ruby said.

‘That I look like crap.’

‘I always tell you that,’ Ruby said.

‘I’m serious.’ Gwen took a step towards the mirror. And jeans. When was the last time she’d worn anything except jeans? ‘I look knackered and my clothes are boring and my hair is awful.’

Ruby came and stood next to her. ‘Your hair isn’t that bad. It’s in beautiful condition.’

‘Cam said I look the same and I thought he was being flattering. I mean, no one looks the same at eighteen and thirty-one, but he was right. I look the same, only older.’

‘And that’s bad why?’

Gwen thought about the forwards-backwards dance she and Cam had been executing and said, ‘It can’t be helping.’

‘I could tidy up the ends for you.’ Kim had her head on one side, considering. ‘But a short cut would look really good. You’ve got the face shape for it.’ Kim turned to Ruby. ‘Hasn’t she, Rubes?’

‘I can’t afford it,’ Gwen said. ‘Sorry.’

Ruby said, ‘I’ll pay.’

At the same time, Kim said, ‘On the house.’

They looked at each other and laughed.

‘That’s very kind,’ Gwen said, liking the feeling that it was a foregone conclusion. That a decision had been taken out of her hands.

She took a deep breath and sat down in the nearest chair. ‘I want a total change.’

‘Are you sure?’ Kim said, combing and beginning to section her hair.

‘I want a fresh start.’

Ruby rolled her eyes. ‘It’s only hair.’

Gwen fixed Ruby’s eye in the mirror. ‘Stop acting cool. I know you’ve been dying for me to beautify.’

Ruby flashed her a wide grin. ‘This is true. Next we can do make-up.’

‘No, thank you,’ Gwen said. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about the dancing scissors and falling hair.

Kim asked her questions about her life and Gwen answered. It would’ve seemed ungrateful not to and Kim had clearly slipped into professional small talk out of habit. Ruby sat on a leather sofa with a magazine and Gwen could hear the pages flipping, so she told Kim about Curious Notions and her shadow boxes and tried not to put herself down. By the time Kim told her to open her eyes, she felt as if knots of tension had slipped undone. Maybe there was something in this pampering lark, after all.

She looked in the mirror. ‘Bloody hell.’

‘Don’t you like it?’ Kim looked anxious. Ruby appeared in the mirror and gave her a thumbs-up.

Gwen put her hand to her neck and touched the bare skin. She turned her head to the side. ‘It’s great,’ Gwen said automatically. It was definitely
different
.

‘You’ll need to blow-dry it to make it sit like this,’ Kim said.

‘Uh-huh.’ Gwen wasn’t even sure she owned a hairdryer.

‘But if you don’t, it’ll still look good. Just softer and your curls will come back.’

‘I like my curls,’ Gwen said.

‘I know.’ Ruby was smiling at her in the mirror. ‘Me, too.’

‘Thank you,’ Gwen said, squinting at the new, sleek Gwen in mirror. ‘I feel sick, but in a good way.’

‘Lovely,’ Kim said. ‘I could put that on my next advert.’

Gwen drove the long way back to End House, taking the road through the centre of Pendleford. The street lights were on and flood lamps lit the beautiful architecture of the church and the town bridge. She watched people on the pavements, bundled up in coats against the cold, and the stone fish poised on top of the round house. Its mouth was open, as if it were about to speak to her.

Still feeling the same kind of dreaminess she’d felt all day, Gwen followed the road back to End House. As she crested the rise, the house came into view. She’d left the lights on in the hallway and the kitchen, and the stained glass above the front door was illuminated. The green checked curtains at the kitchen window weren’t shut properly and a vertical slice of electric light shone out into the darkness.