Witch Souls to Save: A Brimstone Bay Mystery (Brimstone Bay Mysteries Book 4)
Page 11
We walked to Mrs. Hemingway’s house. In the early evening light, it looked magnificent, if a little run down.
Rory and Jane turned up a few minutes later. I needed all of them to help me. This was going to take a lot of magic, and I knew I couldn’t do it alone. After explaining my plan to Rory and Jane, we all pointed our hands at the old building and concentrated. Slowly, planks of wood ripped themselves away from the windows and piled themselves neatly in the garden. Roof tiles that had fallen down over the years flew back up and tucked themselves back into their rightful place back on the roof. Chipped paint became like new and the brickwork miraculously cleaned up. Inside I knew the same thing was happening. For the first time in years, light would be brought to the place. I concentrated on the old electrics, making sure everything worked.
Ten minutes after we all got there, the house looked completely different. It was not the old haunted wreck it had been, it was a stunning freshly painted mansion. Nothing remotely spooky at all. I could barely believe I’d been scared of it.
“Happy now?” Rory asked as she stepped into the car. The others followed. I knew they didn’t understand my motivations and I couldn’t blame them, but hate never won out hate.
Chapter 16
The next morning I skipped into the office with a big smile on my face. Partly due to the two huge takeaway coffees and croissants I’d bagged from the restaurant, but mainly because of the awesome story I was going to write.
“You certainly seem better than the last time I saw you,” JoAnn remarked as I handed her one of the croissants and coffees.
“I am, thank you.” I sat at my desk and waited for her to ask the question I knew was on her lips. She didn’t wait long.
“So what’s the story?”
“I’m going up to the old house. I want to photograph Mrs. Hemingway’s paintings.”
I watched her spit out her coffee.
“Are you serious? After what happened last time?”
“Yep. Perfectly serious. This time it will be different. She’s turned over a new leaf. Apparently, she’s taken up painting herself and is opening the house to the public to show the paintings off.”
I would have to work out some magic way of collecting money as an entrance fee, but I was sure I’d figure it out. If I could drum up enough publicity with my article, she’d have plenty of people to talk to and would never be lonely again.
“The paintings are quite something. The money she collects on the door, she’s generously decided to donate to the Brimstone Bay Residential Home for the rehabilitation of some of the residents.
I sipped my coffee and smiled. It was going to be a good day.
The End