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Mauve (A Very British Witch Book 3)

Page 11

by Isobella Crowley


  “Hello?” Tim shouted from the bottom of the staircase. “Scarlett?”

  “I’m here!” She had to shout as loud as possible so that her voice would carry up the staircase and above the noise of the traffic outside.

  A foot padded against the bottom step. “Scarlett?”

  “I’m down—” She coughed up a chewed sliver of nail that was scratching her throat and walked to the bottom of the stairs to greet him.

  Tim came down the stairs and grave Scarlett with a quick kiss before sitting down on the bench beside her, just under the grey window, which was letting in less light by the second.

  “You okay Scarlett?”

  “Oh, so-so. Tim?”

  “What’s up?”

  “Will you tell me again about why you had to shoot off the other morning all of the sudden after you hid my shoe?”

  “But I’ve explained that already. Don’t know why I should have to keep on explaining myself—”

  “Well tell me again, and this time don’t spare me any details.”

  Tim sighed. “Well, okay then…” He went through the story from start to finish.

  Scarlett could tell from the look on his face that he was lying to her, he was definitely hiding the supernatural side of his investigation. She was going to have to handle this very gently if she wanted to get his help voluntarily, instead of having to resort to Tarquin compelling him with a spell. “Thank you.” She grinned to herself. “So, you’re still denying the fact that it was a werewolf attack?” She faked a laugh and held her breath.

  “Scarlett, I—” He patted her leg. “I can assure you that werewolves do not exist. You’re completely safe tucked up in your bed.”

  “Don’t patronize me.” She gave him a steely look.

  Tim lowered his eyes and took a deep breath, inflating his lungs fully. “Okay.”

  “Thank you.”

  “A werewolf is a possibility that we’re currently taking seriously. But, Scarlett, you—”

  “I know. I won't tell anyone.” She looked away to hide her guilty expression.

  “You’re perfectly safe. They only shift once in a while, when they go out hunting, when—”

  “When it’s a full moon,” Scarlett said, laughing at the fact that they’d finished off the sentence together.

  Tim grinned. “Not only that, but—you know about werewolves too?”

  Scarlett nodded.

  “I had no idea. I thought it was all down to some book you’d been reading. Sherlock Holmes, Miss Marple, Hercule Poirot, something along those lines. What exactly do you know?”

  Scarlett shook her head. “You first.”

  “Well, I want to, but—” He glanced at the floor, took another deep breath and readied his head on top of a proverbial pile of sand. “Okay, here goes. I work as part of a military group that studies weres; hostiles, as we like to call them.”

  Scarlett grinned. “I knew it.” A passing car beeped its horn and, still smiling, Scarlett turned to get a look at the car through the basement window, which looked to be the same model as Cliff’s. This got her thinking. If Tim knew about werewolves, then maybe he knew about vampires too. She opened her mouth to ask, but, noticing his worried expression, decided not to push her luck.

  “What is it?” Tim said, referring to the car outside.

  “Oh, nothing. Thought it might be someone I know, but it’s not. So anyway, the were you captured last night—he’s our friend, Ronnie. We want him back.”

  Tim just stared at her for a second, processing the bomb she’d dropped. How long had she known about Ronnie? About him? He had to know more, and dissuade her from doing anything drastic, at the same time. He donned a sympathetic smile. “Scarlett, I understand, I really do. We all get a little stressed out when one of our friends go missing. But, it’s just not possible.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s a danger for a start. And besides, he’s part of the program now. Eyebrows would be raised.”

  “That’s it? You don’t want to raise any eyebrows? Correct me if I’m wrong, but he hasn’t killed anyone has he? What exactly is he supposed to have done?”

  “He killed a cow, called Mauve, the one that the media are having an absolute field day with. Plus, he’s torn to pieces and eaten a whole bunch of other cattle. It happens every month, whenever he leaves town and heads over to Wiltshire. The farmers are up in arms about it and quite rightly so. It’s their livelihoods we’re talking about.”

  “So, you put that together then, did you?”

  “Well, once we’d established some facts, along with one or two pieces of evidence, it wasn’t that hard to put two and two together.”

  The image of Ronnie lying naked, cold and tortured to breaking point in a cage, flashed to mind. They’d had some good moments together and deep down, she’d always kind of liked him. She certainly wouldn’t want him to come to any harm.

  Her eyes started to well. “Tim—I, I don’t know what to tell you.” She sniffed and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “This is all new to me and… ”

  Tim smiled and shook his head. “And what?”

  “I just don’t want to lose my friend, a friend that I hold dear, to some—to some weird experimental program. It’s not right and it just isn’t fair.”

  “Life isn’t fair, it’s survival of the fittest.”

  “I know, but—but you can’t just go around taking people that haven’t done anything wrong. It’s— it’s kidnapping, that’s what it is. You just went out and kidnapped my good friend and now you’re keeping him locked up, waiting to be tortured. No warning, no investigation, no trial—no nothing.”

  “Darling, I understand why you’re upset, really I do. But that’s just how things work. We can’t go letting anything roam free if it’s a danger to the public. There’d be an outcry if we did and questions would be asked. I don’t agree with it all myself, but it’s policy.”

  Scarlett sniffed. “I know, but that doesn’t make it fair.”

  “I know it doesn’t, but I’m sure the military is acting in the best interests of the country. They have a duty to prioritize the safety of the many. They can’t afford to worry about the few.”

  Scarlett sat back and clasped her hands over her mouth and nose. “It’s not fair. You kidnapped him and he’s done nothing wrong. You could let him go, you just don’t want to.” She turned her back on him. This was not going as she had hoped.

  He leaned over, his breath steaming the back of her neck. “Darling, don’t be like that. That’s just the way things are. Everyone’s so obsessed with being sued these days and as I said, the farmers—”

  Scarlett sniffed into her hands. “I don’t care about the farmers and I don’t care about getting sued. I only care about my friend. How can you do this to him, Tim, how?”

  “Darling, as I said, as I explained, I agree with you whole-heartedly—”

  “No, you don’t. You’re just saying that to shut me up.”

  “Yes, I do mean it, but, that’s just the way things are. What can I say to get it through? I wish I could help, but I just can’t. You’ll get over him. I’ve seen it before, people always do.”

  Scarlett sat up, eyes glistening, tears running down her red face. “I don’t want to get over him, I want him back. You could help him if you wanted to. You would if it was one of your friends.”

  “What could I possibly do?”

  “You could help him get out.”

  “No, I couldn’t.”

  “You could. You have a pass, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do, but—It’s more than my job’s worth.”

  “You put your job before someone’s life?” She sniffed. “Well, glad you’ve shown your true colors at last. I so was wrong about you, thought you had more about you than that.”

  “Scarlett…” He squeezed her hand. “You weren’t wrong about me. What are you saying, you don’t want to see me anymore?”

  She whipped her hand from under his. “
Just—leave me alone, go on, go away!”

  “Scarlett, please, don’t cry. We can work this out.”

  “I said, go away!”

  “But you weren’t wrong about me, I swear.”

  Scarlett sat up, sniffed and looked him right in the eye, giving him the same steely look that she’d produced earlier. “Okay then, prove it to me.”

  “Prove it? How?”

  “Lend me your pass so I can go in myself and get him out of there.”

  Tim sighed. “You know I can’t do that. I’ll lose my—”

  “Do it. Prove to me you’re not some spineless fly-by-night or that’s it. We’re finished.” She meant it. If they had to resort to casting a spell to compel his help, and later another to make him forget, they’d go right back to lying to each other every day. What kind of future could they possibly have?

  Tim looked from Scarlett to the floorboards and back. “But—”

  “Goodbye, Tim.”

  “But is there nothing else, no other way I can prove it?”

  Scarlett shook her head. “Goodbye Tim, it was nice knowing you.”

  “Fine—I’ll help you, okay? You can have my damned pass if that’s what it takes to keep you.”

  Scarlett grinned at him, eyes sparkling. “Really?”

  He wiped the tears from her cheek with the side of his finger. “Really.”

  “Thank you.” She buried her face in his chest, looked up and kissed him on the lips. “Thank you. I’ll make it up to you, I really will.”

  He placed his hand on the back of her head, guided her into his chest and kissed her crown. “I know you will, my love, I know.”

  Feeling a tingle run right through her, she smiled into his squelching shirt.

  +++

  White Hart Pub, Bicester, England

  Reaching behind her, Amanda pulled down the hem of her skirt, mindful of the gang of yobs that had just walked in and occupied the table behind her.

  “Fancy a drink, darling?” one of them called out, providing the catalyst for the rest of them to cheer and make lewd comments about her arse. She didn’t have to turn around to know they were a group of shaven-headed, cockney thugs, maybe ex-army like the Mitchell brothers from EastEnders.

  There was a new bartender, or so it seemed. Either way, it was the first time she’d seen him. She’d definitely have noticed if some great big fat bloke kept grinning and leering at her every time he walked past.

  Scarlett was rarely late for anything; it wasn’t like her at all. She thought back to the conversation they’d had the previous lunchtime in Costa, making absolutely certain that she’d got the right time. She took out her phone to confirm that Scarlett was indeed forty minutes late.

  “I’m Des,” the bartender said, extending a hand.

  With weary, dejected expression, she shook his hand. “Amanda.”

  “Nice meeting you, Amanda. Can I get you something else?”

  “Another white wine please, Des.”

  Des nodded and poured her a drink.

  I’m going to kill you, Scarlett, she thought, looking at her phone. Forty-five minutes. You’re three-quarters of an hour late.

  She reflected on their friendship, concluding that there was probably a good reason for her tardiness. There was nothing to worry about.

  The yobs behind cheered about something or other, making her want to cover her ears. She scowled at them, only receiving a whole load of more lewd comments and whistles for her trouble. Slumping forward onto the bar, a voice entered her head.

  How well do you know Scarlett anyway? Is she really the person you think she is?

  Amanda thought back over the recent months. This wasn’t the first time she’d felt let down by her, but told herself once again that Scarlett always had a perfectly valid reason.

  But she said she’s was dreaming about going away, leaving you to pay the rent on your own.

  It would be unfair of her to hold a grudge about this. True, it would be an inconvenience, but it was Amanda’s duty as a friend to ensure she had a home to come back to.

  Does she ever think like this? Would she do this for you? What evidence is there she would?

  There was plenty of evidence. Of course, she would, they’d always looked out for each other.

  Name something, specifically.

  Amanda wracked her brains, trying desperately to conjure up anything to reassure her that their friendship was as strong as ever.

  There’s nothing is there?

  Although she couldn’t think of a specific example right there and then, she felt confident that she would think of something given a bit more time.

  There’s nothing, and she’s making a fool of you. Admit it!

  Amanda took her drink and stormed across the room to a table that was as far away from the yobs as possible.

  Look at you, sad and pathetic. You’re all dressed up with nowhere to go, sitting on your own. Everyone thinks you’re desperate. Admit it. Scarlett is making a fool of you.

  Amanda took another sip of wine and considered the fact that maybe she was being played for a fool.

  Admit it!

  She sat back, folded her arms and scowled at the floor. It had taken her a few years, but at last, she’d seen Scarlett’s true colors.

  The yobs scraped back their chairs and left, each of them stopping to say goodnight to Amanda as they passed.

  Des looked at the clock on the wall. “Right, that’s me finished for the night. I’m off home to the missus.”

  Now completely alone with Des in the bar, Amanda smiled politely at him and took a gulp of wine.

  Seconds later, the door opened and John, the regular bartender, walked in. He smiled and said hi as he walked past.

  John removed his jacket and after a short exchange with Des, he took up his place behind the bar. He smiled across a couple of tables at Amanda.

  +++

  Malaprop’s Bookstore, Bicester, England

  The shop door opened, letting in the customary draught. Tim put his arm around Scarlett’s shoulders and pulled her in. “Don’t want you to catch a chill.”

  She was about to turn around and kiss him on the lips when the top step thudded, followed by voices and a second pair of footsteps.

  “Thank you,” she said, with a smile and pulled away from him. They both sat in silence, listening to the voices as they advanced down the stairwell.

  “Hi, we’ve brought some—oh, Scarlett.” Tabitha glanced at Tim. “Tim! Hope we’re not, disturbing anything.” She peered at Scarlett. “Have you been crying?”

  Tarquin burst in and grinned awkwardly at the pair of them.

  Scarlett smiled back at him, grateful for the reprieve. “Tim knows about Ronnie, by the way.”

  Seeming to ignore this revelation, Tabitha walked across the room, smiling at her niece. Standing inches away from her, she bent over and lowered herself to Scarlett’s eye level. “You have, you’ve been crying, haven’t you?”

  Scarlett glanced at Tim, who was staring transfixed at the floor. “No, I haven’t. We had the window open and some dust blew in, got in my eyes. Tim told me not to rub them, didn’t you?”

  “Oh yes, kept on and on about it, but you know what she’s like don’t you? Wouldn’t take a blind bit of notice. Tabitha, you tell her will you, maybe she’ll listen to you.”

  Tabitha looked kindly at Scarlett like she was a young and naughty schoolgirl. “Scarlett, next time you get something in your eye, don’t rub it until your eyes go red and bloodshot. Okay?”

  Scarlett nodded. “Okay.”

  “Promise?”

  “Okay.”

  “Good, now that’s cleared up, maybe we can get back to the business at hand. Who’s hungry?”

  Tim looked up. “I wouldn’t say no. What’ve you got?”

  Tabitha smiled, delved into her bag and started handing out snacks to everyone. “There, get these down you. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that things always appear to be better on a full
stomach.”

  The staircase rattled and in no time at all, footsteps were approaching the door.

  “That’s Karl,” Scarlett whispered. “Even his breath has an attitude.” They laughed, lightening up.

  “Hello everyone,” Karl said, entering the room.

  Tarquin got to his feet. “Hello, Karl, managed to get everything sorted out did you?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Great, take a seat.”

  Karl glanced at his watch. “This gonna take long?”

  “It shouldn’t, no.”

  Tabitha offered him a snack. “Here, things always seem better on a full stomach.”

  “Oh, for Heaven’s sake… okay, give it here.”

  Karl crammed half of it into his mouth and started chewing. “Mmmm.” He lowered his eyes to the floor. “Daft old bat.”

  Refusing to take the bait, Tabitha retreated across the room to sit beside Tarquin.

  Tarquin got to his feet and took center stage. “Okay everyone, let’s finish eating and get down to business, shall we?”

  Karl extended his legs. “Well, hallelujah for that.”

  “Alright, well just to recap on what we decided on earlier. We agreed that we’d break into the base and retake Ronnie. To take care of the people element, we’re going to cast a spell.” He glanced at Tabitha, who sat behind him, just to his left. “Tabitha and I have just spent the afternoon scouring the locality for the necessities.”

  Karl sighed. “Get on with it.”

  “Now, the thing is folks, this has to be timed to perfection or it won’t work. It has to happen in the early hours, around two in the morning to be precise.” He glanced down at Tabitha. “We decided this would be the best time, because, not only is it when people will be most susceptible to the spell, but this is when the building will be at its quietest. Hopefully, there won’t be enough personnel around to suspect anyone might be acting a bit strange.”

  Karl coughed to gain everyone’s attention. “Sounds great, but has anyone thought about how you’re going to get in to cast the spell in the first place?”

 

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