The Language of Spells (22 page)

The next day, Katie went to her favourite shop, hoping to find answers. Was it possible that she had made Imogen feel hungry? If she was able to control the way people felt, she’d have a much easier time in school, that was for sure.

The Crystal Cave was filled with slices of marbled agate, packs of tarot cards nestled in carved wooden boxes, paper packages of incense, and books on everything from fortune-telling to Buddhism. The man who ran the place had white hair and a neatly clipped beard. He wore a braided leather belt and looked like a refugee from seventies San Francisco. He was also exceedingly suspicious of Katie, evading her questions regarding his stock, but she didn’t care.

After sniffing all the scented candles, studying the most expensive crystals in the locked glass cabinet, and handling a stone statue of an Indian goddess until Mr Seventies felt the need to inform her that all breakages had to be paid for, Katie was none the wiser. She left the warm embrace of the shop for the sharp winter air of the street and was immediately stopped by a man in a suit.

‘Could you tell me what you just bought in there?’

‘Sorry?’ For a moment, Katie panicked that she’d accidentally shoplifted something. Imogen was always nicking make-up in Superdrug and perhaps she’d picked up the tendency without even realising it.

The man stood a little too close and was staring at her in quite a disturbing way. He dug a gadget out from his pocket and held it in front of her face. ‘I’m from
The Chronicle
. Can I have a word?’

Katie stared at the Dictaphone for a moment, trying to make sense of the situation. ‘What? Why?’ she said.

‘Are you a Satanist? Did you buy chicken blood? A voodoo doll?’

‘Sorry?’

‘Hey!’ A woman crossed the road. ‘Stop harassing that girl.’

‘We’re just having a chat.’ He looked at Katie. ‘Right?’

‘I don’t want to talk to you,’ Katie said, suddenly feeling as if she might cry.

‘You heard her.’ The woman was furious. ‘Get out of here before I call the police.’

‘All right, all right.’ The man clicked a button on his Dictaphone and slipped it back into his coat pocket.

Katie watched, relieved, as he walked away. He got into an old navy BMW that was parked on double yellows. ‘Thanks,’ Katie said.

‘No problem.’ The woman flicked perfectly highlighted hair out from her eyes. ‘People like us have got to stick together.’

‘So he was a reporter or something. I don’t understand why—’ Katie stopped. ‘What do you mean, “people like us”?’

‘He wanted to talk to you because he saw you coming out of there.’ The woman indicated The Crystal Cave.

‘I don’t understand.’

‘His name’s Ryan. He’s been trying to work up a story on Satanism in Pendleford for a while now. He’s really scraping the barrel if he’s accosting school kids on the street. No offence.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Look, you’ve just had a bit of a shock,’ the blonde woman said. ‘Can I give you a lift anywhere?’

‘I’m getting the bus to Bath,’ Katie said, then realised that she probably shouldn’t be telling this woman anything. Stranger danger and all that.

‘I’ll walk with you to the stop. I feel like I should check you’re okay. And apologise.’

‘What for?’ Katie fell into step with the woman. She was tiny, shorter than Katie by an inch or two, and very skinny. She wasn’t exactly threatening.

‘He’s been after a story for a while, but I won’t give him one. If I had, he probably wouldn’t have spoken to you. I feel responsible.’

Well, that was stupid. ‘It’s not your fault.’

‘Well. Anyway.’ The woman took a business card out of her handbag and passed it across. ‘Take my number.’

Katie took the card. It had a mobile number underneath the word ‘fixer’ and had yellow daisies printed around edges that were raised slightly. Katie ran her thumb over them.

‘What do you fix?’

‘All kinds of things.’ The woman smiled.

‘Isn’t that a Mafia thing? From the movies?’

Her smile got even bigger. ‘That’s where I got it from. You like it?’

‘Yeah. It’s cool.’ Katie laughed. ‘But I still don’t know what you mean. Do you do home repairs or what?’

‘Gutters and leaky roofs? Hardly,’ the woman said. ‘More like marriages.’

‘So you’re a kind of therapist.’

‘Oh, come on.’ The woman’s tone was vaguely chiding. ‘You know exactly what I am.’ She smiled and Katie noticed how incredibly white her teeth were.

At the bus stop, the blonde woman patted Katie on the shoulder. ‘It was very nice to meet you. Do call me if you need anything at all.’ She smiled again and Katie wondered what toothpaste she used. ‘I’m always available for you, Katie Harper.’

‘I’m not Harper,’ Katie said. ‘I’m Katie Moore.’ But the woman was already walking away.

Gwen walked past Cam’s secretary and she jumped up. ‘He’s fully booked today—’

‘It’s fine, Melissa. I’ve got an appointment.’

‘I make the appointments,’ Melissa said.

Gwen was too keyed up to stop and argue about it. She opened Cam’s door. ‘Is now a good time?’

Cam stood up when he saw her. ‘Um. Yes. It’s fine.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Melissa said over Gwen’s shoulder. ‘I tried to stop her.’

‘It’s fine. Thank you.’

Gwen sat on the edge of the desk and then stood up again quickly. ‘Sorry, I forgot.’

But Cam wasn’t looking cross. He was looking slightly stunned. ‘That’s okay,’ he said, ‘it’s a comfy desk. You look different.’

Gwen reached up and felt the back of her neck. ‘I got a haircut.’

‘It’s different.’

‘You called.’ Gwen smoothed down the skirt of her dress, the material settling silkily around her hips. ‘I wasn’t sure if you meant to come down right away or later.’

‘Now’s good,’ Cam said.

‘I think I just made an enemy out there.’ Gwen nodded to the door, behind which she imagined Melissa was fashioning weaponry from the stationery supplies.

‘Oh, don’t worry; she’s a bit over-zealous sometimes,’ Cam said, still staring.

Gwen nodded. ‘So, where’s the fire? I’m not being sued again, am I?’

‘No. But there is something I need to tell you about.’ Cam seemed to be finding it difficult to talk to her face; his gaze kept ranging lower to the dipping neckline of her dress.

‘Okay.’ Gwen smiled at him encouragingly. If she’d known it would have this effect on him, she’d have put on a frock ages ago.

‘An article in the
Guardian
.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’ll sue them for defamation if you like.’

‘Hang on.
What
article?’

Cam opened the weekend edition and slid it across the desk. Gwen scanned the text, trying to ignore the photograph of Stephen Knight as a slightly spotty kid scowling for his school picture.

‘It’s in the magazine bit. I don’t think anyone from around here is going to read it. I wouldn’t even have seen it if—’ He broke off.

‘Your mother gave it to you,’ Gwen said. ‘She’s determined, gotta give her that.’

‘She’s just being protective. She’s worried about anything that might reflect badly on the firm. It’s common knowledge that we’re acquainted.’

‘Acquainted?’ Gwen repeated.

‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ Cam said. ‘I just mean that’s the bit that’s public knowledge. There’s nothing wrong with keeping your private life private. Speaking of which … Did you speak to this journalist?’

‘No,’ Gwen said, furious that he felt the need to ask. ‘Surely you know this is the last thing I want?’

Cam shrugged. ‘Publicity can be good. For your business. And I don’t know what other services you provide …’ He trailed off when he saw her expression. ‘Sorry. So you didn’t, then?’

Gwen ignored him and concentrated on scanning the article. She finished and sank into the nearest chair. ‘I feel sick.’

‘No one round here will have even read this.’

‘It says Pendleford in the headline; I think they will.’

‘Yeah, but most of the people around here don’t read the nationals.’

Gwen wanted to be comforted by Cam’s intellectual snobbery, but she’d met enough of the locals not to be convinced. ‘We’re in Wiltshire, not on Mars. Plenty of people commute to London, for crying out loud.’ Gwen felt another lurch in her stomach. ‘Oh, Christ; everyone is going read it.’

‘So what?’ Cam said. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong. And I bet there’s loads of stuff in there that isn’t even true. Let me send them a scary letter, get them to print a retraction.’

Gwen shook her head. ‘It’s pretty accurate, actually.’

Cam looked sceptical. ‘What, about the witchcraft bit? That’s clearly nonsense.’

‘People did accuse me and my family. That’s all it says and that definitely happened.’

‘Well, they’re clearly crazy. No one with any sense will give that credence.’

‘You don’t understand. People will think the worst, anyway. No smoke without fire and all that bollocks. It was like that last time. This is just going to stir it all up.’

‘What happened?’ Cam’s forehead creased. ‘Did you know the kid? He was at your school?’

‘I didn’t hurt him. I didn’t even know him. Some kids came forward at the time and said I was secretly in love with him, saying I was a crazy rejected girl. I didn’t put a spell on him or hypnotise him into killing himself or any of that. But I did use the Finding when he went missing. That’s how I knew where his body was. I didn’t push him in the river—’

‘Of course you didn’t,’ Cam said, shocked.

‘But I did use magic – or whatever you want to call it – to find him. I just didn’t know I was going to be finding his body. I thought I might be able to help.’ Gwen realised she was crying.

Cam came out from behind his desk and wrapped his arms around her. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know this was going to upset you.’

Gwen sniffed. ‘I never talked about it at the time. I was too frightened to speak to you about it.’

‘Wait.’ Cam pulled back to look at her face. ‘You were frightened of me?’ He looked horrified.

‘Not of you. Of your reaction.’ She pulled a face. ‘I thought it would be the same as your mother’s is now.’

‘She’s just being protective of me. Well, the firm. She’s obsessed with how many clients we have. We’ve lost a few recently and she thinks it’s to do with a loss of confidence. You can’t really blame her for worrying. The firm means everything to her.’

‘But this is nothing to do with the firm.’

‘If people know we’re together …’

‘We’re not together. We’re just friends.’

‘I don’t think you and I will ever be just friends,’ Cam said. He didn’t look thrilled about it.

At once Gwen felt angry. ‘I loved you, but I couldn’t be honest with you. I was so ashamed of my family and my powers and what had happened. I was frightened of the way you’d look at me, that you wouldn’t love me any more, so I left.’

‘You said you left because of my mother.’

‘She was the icing on the cake,’ Gwen said. She took a deep breath. ‘It was complicated and, let’s be honest, it’s not much better now.’

The intercom buzzed. ‘Mr Laing? Mr and Mrs Shaw have arrived.’

Cam pressed the button. ‘Ten minutes.’ He put a hand on her arm.

She felt the heat through the thin material of her dress and looked up into his eyes. ‘I don’t want trouble. I want to stay here. Live a quiet life.’

‘Tomorrow’s chip wrappings. Nothing to worry about,’ Cam said. ‘I’m going to put the word out that there’s a journalist sniffing about. I don’t think the council will want any more publicity like this and they’re pretty influential.’

‘I don’t know. Lily’s on the community council and she’s the one who started this. She’s friends with the journalist and brought me a load of old cuttings about the original case. I didn’t realise what she was threatening at the time …’

‘That sounds like harassment. Do you want me to apply for a restraining order?’

‘Against an upstanding member of the community? Do you think that’s a good idea?’

‘Lawyer, remember. Any excuse for some paperwork.’ Cam smiled.

Gwen felt weak with gratitude for his logical, egotistical definiteness. ‘Thanks for the offer. I’ll keep it in mind.’ Without thinking, she went on tiptoe, intending to kiss him chastely on the cheek. He moved at the last moment and kissed her fully.

They stumbled backwards, Cam lowering Gwen onto the desk and stretching out on top of her. Gwen pulled her legs up and around him, pulling him close. The intercom was buzzing and Gwen pushed Cam away.

He looked a little dazed. ‘I don’t think this friendship thing is working out,’ he said, reaching for her again.

‘No.’ Gwen sat up.

Cam helped her off the desk, smoothing down her skirt like the gentleman he was. Cool air rushed into the widening gap between them.
Come back
. ‘I can’t keep doing this,’ Gwen said. Trying to stay rational.

‘But we’re good together,’ Cam said. ‘I’m tired of fighting that fact.’

‘But the next moment you’ll be running away from me. What do you really want?’

Cam frowned slightly. ‘I think it’s a bit early for the big relationship talk, don’t you?’

‘But is this a relationship at all?’ Gwen said. ‘Because, if so, I need to be able to be honest with you. About everything.’

‘Absolutely,’ Cam said.

His habitual closed expression was back in place and Gwen felt cold inside. ‘I think you’re wanted.’ Gwen nodded to the intercom, which still sounded like an angry fly.

‘I hope so,’ Cam said, looking at her.

‘That information is classified,’ Gwen said.
Say you want all of it. Me, the Finding, everything. Say you don’t care what anybody else thinks.

Cam reached out and pulled her close. He kissed her thoroughly, which was very enjoyable but not the same thing as a declaration.

‘Later?’

She smiled, even though her heart was squeezing painfully. ‘Later.’

‘Shall I come to you?’

Melissa popped her head around the door. ‘The Shaws are getting restless, sir.’

‘Send them in,’ Cam said, frowning at the floor. Gwen realised that his papers were lying in drifts around the office.

Mr Shaw walked in, shooting Gwen a look that could’ve felled an elephant. He paused and looked at the chaos. ‘What on earth?’