by Natasha West
And if you were looking for a Bad Girl, Jamie supposed she fitted the bill. She was sexy, confident, impulsive and possessed the kind of face that positively screamed ‘Naughty’. Not to mention that she was an actual criminal.
However, in all honesty, Jamie hated the term. She’d always thought that the phrase ‘Bad Girl’, when you really boiled it down, translated into ‘Arsehole’. It meant someone who would treat you badly and never commit. Jamie wouldn’t have denied that about herself. She supposed she was a Bad Girl. But sometimes she wondered if she might be able to treat someone right if they gave her half a chance to find out.
But you don’t bring the Bad Girl home to meet your Mum. You take her to bed and throw her out before anyone finds out. And that’s how it had been for Jamie since she’d first gotten her first taste of a woman at seventeen. After she’d realised that boys were permanently off the menu, she’d known that she liked sex. A lot. And she liked it casual. Women treated her like she was good for a hot time and little else. At first, Jamie had been good with that. But over time, doubts had crept in. Which came first? The reputation? Or the earning of it? Jamie wasn’t sure.
And she wasn’t really in a position to find out. She had enough on her plate as it was without deciding to seek out true love, if it even existed. Her lifestyle, her family, none of it really matched up with a serious girlfriend. So for the time being, Jamie would keep going as she was. Looking out for her brother, trying to keep the family out of prison. She could get certain needs met. But that was it.
And Molly? Were Jamie’s presumptions about her sex life correct? In a word, yes.
Molly Kaminski wasn’t a virgin, exactly. But that wasn’t saying much. She’d had sex exactly five times, all with the same boy, Nathan. He’d been the boy who delivered newspapers for the mini-mart, cycling around the estate on his bike, shoving red tops through letterboxes. They’d both been sixteen.
It wasn’t that Nathan wasn’t a nice guy or a good boyfriend. But Molly had known he was probably not going to set her knickers on fire from the beginning.
For a start, he seemed to have a permanent sinus infection. They’d be talking one minute and then, without warning, he’d abruptly tip his head back and start squirting nasal spray up his nostrils. Then he’d keep talking as though it had never happened.
He was also quite fond of the sound of his own voice. Every time Molly saw him, he’d have read some new article on why the bees were vanishing or on the Tunguska blast of 1908 or how people didn’t realise how inaccurate forensic evidence really was or a new theory on the assassination of JFK. And he’d want to explain every nuance of those articles to Molly.
It wasn’t as though Molly was intellectually uncurious. But Nathan was, quite simply, a bore. Molly hadn’t really been very attracted to him. But he’d been interested and persistent. And she hadn’t had a suitor before. So she’d given it a go.
After two months of trying to pretend to herself that she liked him, she gave up. She told him, in no uncertain terms, that it was over. He’d begged her to reconsider but she’d made her mind up and would not be persuaded. He’d run out of the shop crying, trying to pass it off as another sinus problem.
The next day, Vera had mentioned that out of nowhere, Nathan had quit and wouldn’t be doing the papers anymore. And who else would they get to do it at such short notice? Of course, Molly had ended up with the job. But as she cycled around the estate at the crack of dawn, it seemed a small price to pay not to be bored silly by Nathan anymore.
But since then, there had not been any more boyfriends. Molly wasn’t sure exactly why. Was she the problem? Or was it everyone else who sucked? If anyone had been interested enough to ask, she would have said it was the second reason. But in her darker moments, in the middle of a night shift, when it seemed as though she were the last person left on earth, she suspected it was really the first reason. Was there something wrong with her?
She read all the time. She knew that wasn’t considered sexy. Also, the thought of ‘Making an effort’ for some idiot boy was hard to swallow. So she didn’t. And her hours were terrible. Even when she wasn’t stuck in the shop, she was too tired to do anything but lie on her bed, paperback in hand, reading till she fell asleep.
Molly knew that all that flirting business wasn’t for her. It was for the Jamie’s of the world, the girls who seemed to radiate sex without effort. That could never be Molly. She was too busy getting into arguments with anyone who might be a romantic prospect. She couldn’t help it. She wasn’t sure how it even happened. Her Mum said she was just like her, fiery. But Russian temperament or not, what it amounted to was the fact that Molly never got any. She was too busy having to be right about everything.
And now Max had said that was what she’d been doing with Jamie. That the tension between them was sexual. Molly was annoyed at the mere suggestion. She didn’t fancy Jamie. She’d never thought about girls like that.
‘Can everyone just relax? It was a joke’ Max said, hoping the danger was over. And then Jamie punched him in the nuts.
‘That’s it!’ Aiden O’Donnell yelled as he banged his hammer against the water boiler in the kitchen. ‘It’s completely buggered.’
Aiden had been out doing his deliveries when his wife had called, explaining that she was sick of not being able to get anything done in the house because of fluctuating hot water. He’d asked her to wait until he could get home and take a look at it. And then she’d pulled out the big guns, threatening to call a plumber.
‘We need an expert, Aiden. They could probably fix it in about ten minutes’ said his wife Louise, knowing full well she was pushing Aiden’s buttons.
‘If it could be fixed, I’d be able to fix it. What’s a plumber anyway, when you get down to it?’
‘A trained professional who’s been taught how to fix boilers’ Louise replied.
‘And I’ve got the internet. So what’s the difference?’
Being that Louise had had this argument with her husband something like a dozen times, she knew how it was going to go. He’d say he could do it. She’d say he couldn’t and that they should hire a plumber. He’d act like it was an affront to his machismo. She’d tell him not to be an idiot. And then he’d admit that he simply didn’t want to pay for someone to do what he could do for free. And then she’d say yes, that was great in theory. Only he couldn’t properly fix it. And round they’d go again.
Louise didn’t mind having the same row she’d had before. She didn’t have a lot else going on today, anyway. But then her son burst into the kitchen through the back door, looking flustered.
‘Henry! Why aren’t you at school?’ Louise demanded.
‘I need to ask Dad something’ he said, hoping he’d get the chance before his Mum frogmarched him back to school.
Aiden, who didn’t think bunking off was the big deal his wife did, and was sort of proud of his very straight-laced son for breaking a rule for once, put his hammer down and said ‘Lay it on me, boy. What’s up?’
‘No!’ Louise said. ‘If he wants to talk to you, he can wait till the school day is over. What could be so urgent that he could just walk out of school…’
‘I’M A WITCH!’ Henry exploded.
Louise’s mouth closed instantly.
‘I mean, I’m a warlock’ Henry continued. ‘Or I might be a wizard. I don’t really know what you call it but I am one. And I’ve done something weird and bad.’
‘Aiden, what did I tell you?’ Louise said, turning to her husband without surprise. ‘You should have had this talk with him years ago. I did the sex talk; you do this one. But no, you put it off and put it off and now look-’
‘Son’ Aiden broke in. ‘What did you do?’
Henry had known that his Mum and Dad would probably know something about his accidental curse throwing. That if he told them what had happened, they’d have some answers. He’d known it because of last New Year’s Eve.
His parents had decided to stay at home and pop
a cork as Big Ben struck midnight on TV. And Henry had been old enough to stay down with them and have a small glass of fizz as the bells rang. His Mum had started early. By midnight, she was fairly smashed.
As the clock struck midnight, Henry, who’d seen a horror film about the Salem witches a few nights before at his friend Ben’s house (they’d heard there would be boobs in it) had said ‘That’s the witching hour. From midnight to two, magic is supposed to be dead strong.’
Louise had snorted with laughter and said ‘Your Dad knows all about that. His family were practically driven out of Ireland along with the snakes over that kind of thing!’
Henry wouldn’t have read much into that comment. He’d probably have thought it was drunk nonsense. But for his Dad’s response.
‘Louise! That’s not funny!’
It was an odd reaction, an angry reaction. Henry hadn’t really understood it. Until this morning.
‘I’ve done, like, a curse. On Molly Kam- On the girl from Quick Snack’ Henry explained to his Dad.
‘Where is she?’ Aiden asked wearily.
Nine
‘You can come out now’ Henry said to the trio hiding in the shed. ‘My Dad wants to talk to you.’
Everyone filed out of the shed and stood in Henry’s garden while Aiden watched them. Jamie and Molly got the distinct impression they were getting an inspection.
‘You two’ he said, looking at both the girls. ‘You’re the ones with the problem?’
‘It’s a bit beyond a problem’ Molly answered. ‘It’s more like a complete catastrophe.’
‘Show me’ Aiden said, already fed up. He needed to get back to work. He had twenty packages sat in his van that wouldn’t deliver themselves. Instead, he was in his back garden, asking for the ridiculous.
Molly and Jamie looked at each other and agreed with a nod to do yet another demonstration. ‘OK’ Jamie said. ‘But this is the last time. I’m not a performing monkey.’
Henry and Max got into the same positions as they had in the playground. Molly and Jamie were pulled until they were horizontal and hovering, for the second time that day.
Again, Jamie was secretly nervous. And again, Molly was secretly loving it. It was with great disappointment that she let herself be put down again.
Once everyone had both feet on the ground, Aiden let out a moan of frustration.
‘Shit. I really hoped Henry was exaggerating. He does that sometimes. But I suppose I can’t argue with what I can see.’
‘Dad!’ Henry protested with a blush. He’d cast some sort of powerful spell with his newfound abilities and his Dad had still managed to make him look like a daft pillock in front of Molly.
‘Henry says this might be genetic?’ Max asked.
‘That’s right. My Dad had this’ he waved at the space between Molly and Jamie ‘little ability. He never stuck two people together though. Other things’ Aiden said, his brow furrowing ‘but never this.’
‘So you can do this too?’ Molly asked hopefully. If Aiden knew how to do it, maybe he knew how to reverse it.
‘Nope. Missed me out, thank fuck. Guess it skipped over me to Henry. I was hoping it might have vanished.’
Molly’s face fell as her dreams died once again.
Aiden turned to Henry and said ‘Sorry, son. I should have said something but I was hoping I wouldn’t have to.’
Henry looked at his Dad and all he wanted to do was throw an epic tantrum, with foot stamping and screaming, the works. Sorry, son. Was that it? He might have just cursed poor Molly to be stuck with Jamie, who wasn’t as bad as he’d first thought, but still.
And if his Dad had only warned him that he had the potential to do something like this, he could have been more careful before he made declarations that might doom people to an eternity of encumberment.
He had a right to a tantrum. But Molly was there. And above all else, he wanted to be cool in front of her. So instead of shouting at his Dad, he just shrugged and said ‘S’alright.’
‘Err, no it fucking isn’t alright. Not even close’ Jamie said, heatedly.
‘Agreed’ added Molly. ‘What are we supposed to do now? I mean, if your Dad’s dead and he was the only one who might know-’
‘What makes you think he’s dead?’ Aiden interrupted.
‘You were talking about him like he was’ Jamie replied. She’d thought the same as Molly.
‘Yeah’ added Max, ‘Total past tense.’
‘He’s not dead. Just a bastard. I haven’t seen him since I was twenty.’
‘So…?’ Molly asked, hopefully. ‘Where does he live? Is it close by?’
‘Not as such. Last I heard, he’s still in Corai.’
‘Where the fuck is Corai?’ Jamie asked.
‘It’s a little island off the coast. West of here. It’s about a five-hour drive to the port. Then it’s a half hour ferry ride.’
‘Island?!’ Jamie and Molly cried in unison.
‘Yeah. You can probably catch the last boat out if you hurry.’
‘What do you mean you? You have to take us there, so you can ask your Dad to fix it!’ Molly said hotly.
‘No way. Sorry, girls. There is no chance I will EVER talk to that fucker ever again.’
Jamie began to sputter out some angry exclamations but Max stepped in quickly and said ‘Aiden, is it?’
Aiden nodded at Max.
‘There’s obviously some bad blood between you and your Dad. I get it. Family is fucked’ he said with a glance to Jamie. She rolled her eyes but she knew what he meant. ‘But do you think’ Max said, looking back to Aiden ‘seeing as your son got us into this, that you might make the exception? Just this once?’
Aiden considered the young man’s words. He had a persuasive way about him, certainly. And Aiden was sorry for what his failure to talk to his son had indirectly caused.
But the last time he’d seen his father, his final words to him had been something along the lines of never wanting to see him again. And he’d managed twenty years of keeping that promise. The thought of having to break that vow, after all this time, it was too much.
‘I’m sorry. No. Can’t do it.’
Jamie was about to go off again when Aiden held up his hand and said ‘But! I do have a compromise.’ He turned to Henry and said ‘You’re going to go with them.’
Henry’s eyes went wide.
‘What?! What about school? And Mum?!’
‘I’ll deal with all that. Don’t worry. It’ll be alright’ Aiden said, with as much reassurance in his tone as he could muster. He didn’t envy his son’s task. He turned to Molly, who he’d singled out as the most responsible of the trio. Something about the sensibleness of that ponytail. She looked like a person who’d return a wallet. ‘I’m trusting you to look after my son. Keep him safe and out of trouble. Can you do that?’
Molly glanced at Henry, who looked like he might be suffering from the world’s first case of fatal embarrassment, and back to Aiden.
‘If you won’t come, I guess we’ve got no choice.’
‘Hang on a second’ Jamie protested. ‘Why do we even need the kid? All we need is an address.’
Aiden started to laugh and said ‘Trust me, you need Henry. Ronan O’Donnell’ Aiden added, almost shuddering at having to utter the name he hadn’t said in many years ‘won’t give a shit about any of this otherwise. Your Grandad is a selfish old fucker’ he said to Henry ‘but he’ll probably talk to you. You’re family and you share his ability. I can’t swear he’ll help but if you play the family card, it might be a foot in the door.’
‘I really think we need you to come’ Molly pleaded.
‘If I come, it might actually make things worse. This is the best idea, trust me.’
Everyone regarded each other wearily. It was an unappealing journey that lay in front of the four of them. They all felt a dread just trying to picture the time they’d have to spend in each other’s company, sharing rooms, food, cars, even a bloody boat, plus whatever else
might crop up in the course of the expedition.
Except for Max, who simply shrugged and said ‘Road trip! Have we got time to do a snack run?’
Ten
Molly looked through the window of her bedroom, holding on tightly to the lilac covered trellis. A few feet below her, Jamie was holding on too.
‘Hurry up’ Jamie hissed, impatiently.
‘I am!’ Molly replied.
She gripped the window frame and began to jiggle it up and down, hoping this wasn’t one of the few times she’d remembered to lock it. But the gap that began to form told her that she hadn’t. Her Mum was always going off about it (‘Do you want us to be killed in our beds?’) but right now, Molly was deeply grateful for her own forgetfulness.