Witch Oracle in Westerham

by Dionne Lister

  She scrunched her nose. “Okay, okay. Will you promise to get off my case if I eat this now?”

  Imani and I nodded. Liv took a sip of her tea. That was a start—the tea had milk and one sugar in it, but it couldn’t compare to the calories in that muffin. I pretty much held my breath until she finally took a bite. Thank God. Imani and I ate our own muffins and chatted about silly, inconsequential things to distract her as she ate. Eventually, it was all gone.

  Liv’s mum knocked on the door frame. “Hey, girls. Does anyone want anything?”

  I turned and smiled. “No thanks. We’ve all just had our muffins from Costa.”

  Her mum’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh, what kind did you have, Liv?” That must have been her way of asking, without being obvious, if Liv had one too. I guess “we” could have been just Imani and me.

  “Same as them. Double chocolate.” She looked at us, the tension around her eyes less than what it had been when we’d arrived. “Thanks. It was nice of you to bring me one.”

  Her mother’s smile was huge. “Yes, it was. Thank you. I’ll leave you to it.” She sent us a look of pure gratitude, then left.

  “So,” I said, hoping I wasn’t about to push her too far. “You’re allowed to leave the house, aren’t you?”

  She shrugged. “Yes, but I don’t want to.”

  “Not even to visit Angelica’s? Maybe you could come hang out tomorrow?”

  She scratched her arm. “I have to go the station tomorrow, to check in, you know, for my bail conditions.” She blushed.

  “Stop. Just stop,” said Imani. Huh? I stared at her. “Liv, none of this is your fault, for goodness’ sake. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. The police should be ashamed, and so should that cow who lied about you knowing Kate was going to be at the movies. Don’t be despondent—be angry. Act like the innocent person you are. Don’t let them beat you. They’re going to be apologising before too long. I promise. And Kate’s friend will get arrested for lying. Hopefully, I’ll be the one who gets to make the arrest.”

  Liv’s expression was thoughtful. “I’m sure Beren would like to join you.” Atta girl! She was gradually getting on board.

  I smiled. “I’d like to get in a couple of sneaky punches before the arrest, to be honest.”

  Liv’s lips twitched. “Promise I can be there to watch?”

  “Definitely.” Okay, so I shouldn’t be condoning violence, but if that’s what it took to cheer her up, I was all for it.

  All too soon, it was time to go. I magicked the crumbs off her bed. “Done.”

  “Thanks… for everything.” Liv stood, and I smiled. Yay, she was out of bed!

  I gave her a hug. “Sorry we have to go, but Imani has to get to work, and I can’t be out on my own.” Looked as if Liv wasn’t the only one with a prison sentence. To be fair, her situation was much worse, but still, Dana’s snake group had way too much to pay for. “Honestly, see if you can come over tomorrow. If you can’t, I’ll pop over at some point—either with Imani or Will.”

  Liv nodded way more vigorously than her head shaking earlier. “Okay. You girls are amazing, you know that?”

  “We do, actually, but it doesn’t hurt to hear someone else say it.” Imani grinned and gave her a hug. “See you soon, love.”

  As we left, as much as Liv had seemed better than when we’d arrived, something else bothered me, and yet again, I couldn’t decipher what it was. Unfortunately, I had a feeling it was important.

  Chapter 9

  The bright spotlight shone on the black-caped Owen the Oracle and the latest guinea pig on stage with him. The twenty-something-year-old woman with long, straight brown hair—his ninth guest—sat in a chair. Owen stood next to her. They both faced the crowd. Owen had one hand on her head and his eyes shut. His other hand rested on his crystal ball, which sat on a table next to him, swirling grey and white, as if it were a portal that was about to spew a storm into the room.

  His magic shuddered over my scalp. I shut my eyes, breathed in, and gave over to the sensation of it. A strong thrum of hope, overlaid with an equal amount of arrogance and a suggestive hint of… chaos? Move over, wine connoisseurs; here comes your magic equivalent. I smiled, even though this was serious. The image of me swirling the golden magic from the river in a wine glass came to me. Imagination-me sniffed it and took a sip. Hmm… a hint of berries. If only it was harmless. Which also led me to wonder if magic could be drunk, as in someone could drink it, not drunk. Drunk magic was bad, or performing magic drunk was. I remembered the night at Marcia’s birthday when one of her older granddaughters was performing fire magic under the influence. It could’ve ended very badly. Anyway, Lily, brain back on the job, please.

  Could I imbibe other people’s magic if I tried? I could give it away, so I guessed I should be able to receive it. Not that I wanted anyone else’s—mine was enough of a pain to deal with.

  “Is he using magic?” the grey-haired, long-bearded man sitting next to me asked in a quiet voice.

  I grinned. “Yes, Grandpa. And it’s exactly what I thought it was.”

  He nodded, then cocked his head to the side. “Is that a hair growing out of your chin?” He leaned close to me in the darkened theatre.

  “Very funny.” I narrowed my eyes, pushed my glasses up my nose, and smoothed the fabric of my elastic-waisted orange trousers over my thighs. Dressing up as a couple of oldies had been my idea. I even had stick-on wrinkles and a cane. Will’s grey-blue eyes were still as heart-stopping as usual, even behind all that distinguished hair. In a whisper, so as not to disturb those around us, I said, “Now, shhhh. I’m trying to watch the show.”

  We sat about midway between the stage and back wall in the large theatre, while James and Gus sat two rows from the front. They had the special seats since Gus had paid extra to have his fortune read afterwards. Only a select few were having it read in front of the crowd. And that made our job a hell of a lot easier. I’d turned my phone on to record video of everything at the beginning of the show. I’d put a no-notice spell on myself before I entered so I could hold it up without anyone telling me not to. The sign at the entry door said no recording devices. I smirked, enjoying my little foray into naughty territory. Ooh, Lily, such a rebel. I laughed at myself. Okay, so I was a decent person—sue me.

  He finished with the woman on the stage, swirling his cape with one arm as he gestured to her with the other. “Please thank Vera, everyone.” The crowd dutifully clapped. “And now I’d like to call Brian Perkins to the stage.” I lowered my camera as Owen scanned the audience, watching for Brian to emerge—no-notice spells tended not to work on witches. Only two of his team appeared to be witches, and they were near the front of the stage as security.

  As overweight Brian, in a too-tight shirt and jacket, waddled up the stage stairs, I lifted my camera. Crap. My intake of breath must have alerted Will. “What’s up?” he whispered.

  I tilted the screen his way. He looked at it, then at me, and scrunched his face in confusion. Oh, that’s right—I was the only one who could see it as it was happening. Everyone else would have to watch the recordings later, or they’d miss it. I leaned towards him and whispered, “Brian’s see-through.” Adrenaline swooshed through my chest and stomach in an uncomfortable dip. Will’s mouth formed a silent O. His sad face mirrored my feelings. I swivelled back to face the stage.

  “So, Brian, are you ready to find out your future?” Anger burned briefly in my chest—what future, Owen, hmm? He definitely wasn’t any good if he couldn’t see Brian wasn’t going to be around much longer.

  Brian, sitting facing the crowd, nodded.

  Owen held a palm card up, which he looked at before putting in his pocket. “It says here that you want to find out if your dream of selling one of your paintings to a stranger for over two-thousand quid will come true. It also says you want to know if you’re ever going to meet the woman of your dreams, and, if so, when.” He grinned. “I can help you with that. Are you ready to know your future
, Brian?” A few diehards in the audience clapped and cheered.

  Brian nodded enthusiastically. His broad smile was full of joy. I gritted my teeth. That poor man. So oblivious. Maybe I should follow him around, or have Beren follow him, revive him if he dies. But then again, we couldn’t save everyone. What if it was his time to go for whatever reason? And was it right for Owen not to warn him? I supposed if he said anything, the guy would just be stressed until it happened, which is not the way you want to spend the last few hours or days of your existence. I sighed.

  Owen rested one hand on Brian’s head and the other on the crystal ball. He shut his eyes, and his magic peppered my scalp. “Hmm… interesting. Ah, yes….”

  Brian sat up straighter, hope in the set of his shoulders. He looked like a British bulldog who’s just been told he’s going for a walk.

  “I see a painting of a woman in the rain. She holds a red umbrella. Very nice oil painting, Brian. This is the one that will sell, and it will sell for well over two-thousand quid. And it will happen soon. Very soon.” He smiled and nodded. “Now, let’s see if you’ll meet the woman of your dreams.”

  Many of the people sitting around me, except for Will, leaned forward, waiting to hear the outcome. The tension in the room was almost as palpable as Owen’s magic. Did this room full of strangers care about Brian, or was it just that if there was hope for his dreams to come true, there was hope for theirs?

  Owen snatched his hand off the ball and opened his eyes. The crystal, which had flashed with bright colours—orange, white, blue, and green—settled back into its swirling white and charcoal grey. “You’re going to meet the woman of your dreams even sooner than selling your painting. You’ll both be wearing green. Her blonde hair will be in a braid when you first meet.” Wow, that was specific. I bet Brian wore green everywhere from now on. How much was this a premonition, and how much of it was suggestively motivated?

  Brian’s grin suggested he was happy. “I love blondes.” He looked up adoringly at Owen.

  Owen’s return smile was slightly skewed. “Ah, yes, I know.” The crowd laughed. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is our last guest for the night! Please clap your hands for Brian!” As Brian made his way off stage, I stopped recording and put my phone in my bag. Just as I did, it vibrated with an incoming message since the ringer was on silent.

  As I took my phone back out of my bag, Owen thanked everyone for coming. “Thanks for the love. Because of you, my fans, I’ve just been named Fortune Teller of the Year for the UK. There’s nothing I love more than sharing news of people’s futures, especially when I’m letting them know their dreams are going to come true. That’s the best part of my job, for sure. Thank you all for letting me share my gift with you. For anyone who has private readings, please stand now, and my friend Ewan will take you through. Goodnight, everyone, and may the cosmos give you everything you desire!” He waved using his whole arm as if he was trying to get someone’s attention. I wanted to tell him it was okay, we could see him, but whatever.

  Now the theatrics were over, I looked down at my phone. The message was from Angelica. Lily, we require your presence at the conference room right now. Imani, Beren, and I are waiting. You are excused from Owen’s show. Tell Will he’s to stay and cover James. Please answer YES and get here ASAP.

  Yikes, that sounded urgent, but I couldn’t resist a smile. It was like when you had a doctor’s or hairdressing appointment and they messaged the day before. Answer YES to confirm your appointment.

  I typed out YES and sent it. I turned to Will. “Ma’am’s asked me into the PIB for an urgent meeting with B and Imani. She said you’re to stay here.” I showed him the message.

  His wrinkly brow furrowed, his newly grey brows dipping down, and he searched my eyes. “Do you have any idea what this could be about?”

  I shook my head. But then my stomach took a dive. “Maybe it’s something to do with Liv. What if she’s back in jail, or worse….” Everything she’d been through had depressed her. Maybe she figured it was all too hard. Please no. Nausea inched up my throat.

  Will gently grabbed my upper arms. “Don’t jump to conclusions. It’s probably just new information, and Ma’am doesn’t have anyone else to cover it. While you’re there, you can transfer the video from tonight as well. Text me, and let me know what’s up. Okay? And no catastrophising.” Under normal circumstances, I would comment on how cute that word was, but in light of what might be happening, my heart wasn’t in it.

  “I’ll do my best. I’ll text you.” We stood, and he dropped a lingering, close-mouthed kiss on my lips.

  “Stay safe. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  As Will carefully made his way over to watch James and Gus, I did my best to walk slowly, with my cane, to the toilets. It took all my willpower to plant the cane and hobble slowly. Damn being old. And being old was when you wanted to get stuff done because you didn’t have long left. Having to go slow was not conducive to getting things done. Like old drivers who went under the speed limit. I always wanted to beep at them and shout, “You don’t have long left. Why are you wasting time?” My legs were slow, but my brain was spewing nonsense at two hundred kilometres per hour. Sometimes it sucked to be me. Well, quite often lately.

  Eventually, I made it. There was a long line, and, of course, anyone watching me go into the out-of-order cubicle would think I was nuts, or maybe just senile. Although, it could work because even if they saw me go in, they’d be going to the toilet and leaving, so they’d not hang around to see if I ever came out. Also, I had my no-notice spell on, and there was only one witch I could see in here. I’d just have to be careful not to bump into anyone as I limped past—why did the out-of-order cubicle always have to be the one at the very end?

  My back prickling with conspicuousness, I entered the cubicle. As soon as the door closed, I made my doorway to the PIB and, giving the old girl the flick, I jumped through.

  Chapter 10

  Okay, so jumping wasn’t such a great idea. I sat in the conference room while Beren held a hand over the huge bump on my forehead, readying to heal it. “Honestly, Lily. How did you manage this?”

  Heat suffused my cheeks. “It wasn’t my fault. Someone rearranged the furniture in the reception room. I crashed into it, tripped, and flew into the wall.” Imani snorted from her seat across the table, but I couldn’t give her the stink eye since Beren was in front of me.

  The warmth of his healing on my bump matched the temperature of my cheeks.

  “But how? Walking into a chair shouldn’t end up with you flying into the wall at the velocity you’d need to cause this bump.” Imani sniggered. Her commentary was not appreciated.

  “What’s so funny?” I grumbled as Beren removed his hands. I felt my forehead, and the bump was gone. “Thanks, B.”

  Imani still wore a stupid grin. “I can just see how it happened. I’d bet my favourite pair of Louboutins that you weren’t walking when you came through your door. It’s just a shame I missed it.” The only positive about Imani laughing was that Liv must be okay. I couldn’t see Imani being anything but upset if something had happened to our friend.

  I gave her my best death glare. At least Ma’am wasn’t in the mood either. She folded her arms. “Right, enough of that. We have some serious business to attend to.” Beren sat next to me as she continued. “We have some new information, thanks to the interviews we’ve been conducting. Kate’s friend Olga, the one who was at the movies, has been identified as knowing the man who was killed by the tiger.”

  Olga? She didn’t look like an Olga. An Olga, to me, was someone tall and huge, like a tough Russian woman you wouldn’t mess with. This woman was slim, long-legged, and gorgeous; also, there was no hint of a Russian accent.

  “Lily? Are you listening?” Ma’am pressed her lips together, obviously annoyed.

  “Um, yes. Sorry.” I looked at her with wide, I’m-paying-super-attention eyes. Brain, focus, damn you. “Before we get started, how’s
Liv?” I looked at Beren.

  His concerned expression didn’t change. “Not great. A bit better after your visit, and her mother said she’s eating a tad more, but she’s still depressed and worried. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do. It’s a normal reaction to her circumstances, to be honest. The only thing that will really help is for us to solve this disaster.”

  “Agreed.” I turned back to Ma’am. “How did Olga know him?”

  She humphed, probably irritated at being interrupted. Hmm, that was two things I’d done so far at this meeting, and we’d only just started. I was in fine form today. “Olga and Irving were acquaintances who met in a Westerham animal-lovers Facebook group. He’d posted that he was going to the park that day, in case anyone wanted to go with them. But a couple of weeks prior to that, he’d posted something about marriage equality on his own wall, which was public, and she attacked him for being gay, said homosexuality was unnatural, plus a few other choice things. He blocked her, but he’d taken screenshots. His partner provided them.”

  Oh, wow, Olga was even more horrible than I thought. In her world, it was a crime to be fat or gay. Considering how many people were fat or gay, she must have been angry a hell of a lot. Good. I hoped her brain melted from the heat of her anger. “Can you prove she killed him?”

  “No. But she visited the animal park the day before. We’ve got a specialist team combing the grounds for her magic signature. They’ve also checked out the tiger, to see if she cast a spell on it to attack him.”

  “Have you tied her to any of the other things we’re looking at?” Imani asked.

  “Not yet, but we have an agent tailing her.”

  I sat up straighter. “What if she had something to do with Kate’s death? She seems horrible enough to want to kill her friend. Maybe Kate had angered her somehow? She might have just taken the opportunity to kill her with magic after Liv pushed her. Maybe she magicked an invisible thing for her to trip over?”