“Oh, nothing,” he said, his eyes still averted.
“It doesn’t look like nothing.” Scarlett grinned. “It looks like you’re trying to be evasive.”
“Oh, no. No, I’m not.”
“Whatever you say,” she teased.
Tarquin sighed. “Well, did you see us driving through the market square the other night?”
“No, I—who’s us?”
“Me and—your aunt Tabitha,” he said, unable to hold back a smile.
“Hang on. You and my aunt?!” She shrieked. “Oh my God.”
Tarquin laughed, waving his arms in front of him. “No, no, nothing like that. We’re just good friends. We’ve—”
“Known each other a long time. Yeah, I know.”
Scarlett’s mind flashed back to the night they’d rescued Ronnie. The pair of them had been getting cozy in the back seat. There’d been this glazed kind of adoring look in their eyes. She remembered thinking it looked a bit odd at the time, but she’d thought she’d misread the signals.
She fixed him with a discerning gaze. “You looked like you were getting on really well the other night, though. Like you really cared for—”
This time, Tarquin met her eyes. “Scarlett, sometimes you can take this sleuthing thing of yours a bit too far. There’s absolutely nothing for you to go digging for.”
Her arms started to tire under the weight of the books and she felt her face redden.
“I’m going to get back to the cataloging now,” he continued. “Finish having a good look through the books, take anything you think might be of use.”
“Okay, thank you.”
She observed him as he walked back to his box of books. Roughly halfway into the main storeroom, he turned to look through the window, into the bright sunshine. He squinted, raised his hand to shield his eyes, and for a split second Scarlett thought she saw a mischievous grin.
Shaking her head, she walked back across the room to the bookcase. As soon as Tarquin’s scanner made its first beep, she allowed herself to focus on the next shelf and picked up where she’d left off.
A big yellow book with gold writing held her attention briefly, but she moved on, her thoughts elsewhere. When she pulled out the next book and found the information went completely over her head, she decided to take a minute to gather her thoughts.
Although they’d never been close friends, Tarquin had always struck her as someone she could trust. If he and Tabitha were indeed an item, what was there to worry about? She couldn’t think of a single thing. Not one reason why Tarquin would be a bad companion for her aunt.
Tabitha had been on her own for years and deserved to be happy. Not only did she and Tarquin get on well, but they were privy to each other’s alternative lives, thus avoiding any unwanted intrusions. It wasn’t as if either of them could sustain a long-term relationship with a normal person. It just wasn’t feasible. By all means, they were a good fit for each other.
However, there was something lurking in the back of Scarlett’s mind. There was a wooden bench beside the bookcase and she carefully placed the books down onto it, frowning at them as she tried to figure out what made her feel uncomfortable with the idea.
It didn’t take her long to realize: If Tarquin and Tabitha were, as she suspected, hiding the fact that they were together, then it was only going to be a matter of time before they made it official. And when that happened, the whole dynamic would change. She’d no longer be the young aspiring witch, she’d be the baby of the group. Tarquin might start treating her like a child; telling her to wrap up warm when she went out and to go home when she looked tired. That type of thing.
She looked again to the bookcase. She’d done far too much digging for her own good and raised some questions that she didn’t have time to think about. Angry with herself for jumping the gun, she got to her feet and recommenced her search.
A whole series of books stood side by side on the bottom shelf, just enough out of the way that she hadn’t noticed them at first. She was about to look upwards, focus her attention on the fourth row down where she’d left off, but something about the books hooked her. They had eye-catching names. Much darker than the rest; ominous even. They looked like the type of books that could either uncover the secret to becoming a great witch or scupper her ambitions altogether.
Bending down, she pulled out the first volume and read the title aloud. “Space-Time Manipulation.”
A chill crept up the back of her neck, so sudden and violent that she had to place the book on the bench so she could rub her hands over her arms in an attempt to warm up.
With one hand on the back of her neck and the other crossing her chest to the opposite shoulder, she became aware of the sensation of eyes on her. The beeping coming from the other room had stopped.
Scarlett turned around quickly, startled. “Tarquin!”
Tarquin, now standing in the doorway, looked as serious as she’d ever seen him. “No, Scarlett. I’m sorry, I should have warned you about them. That shelf is strictly out of bounds.”
Scarlett hurriedly picked up the book and slid it back into place. “Sorry, I had no idea.” She paused. “What exactly—?”
He cut her off, his voice urgent. “They’re dangerous. Both to the witch herself and to everyone around her. That’s all you need to know.”
“Tarquin, I’m sorry. I had no idea. I don’t want to cause any harm to—”
His expression softened at her anxious expression. “No, it’s okay. No harm done. You, err, got everything you need?”
She gave him a sheepish grin. “Yes.”
It was only once she’d stooped to pick up the books she’d pulled out that she thought about work. It was with a strong sense of foreboding that she took out her phone to check the time.
“Oh no. Thanks so much Tarquin, but I’ve got to go,” she called, running past him, through the shop.
“No problem. Take as long as you—”
She was out the door before she could hear the rest of his sentence. Feet pounding on the busy sidewalk, Scarlett pondered her next move. Karl had explicitly told her not to be long because he wanted to get going on a stock take this afternoon. Oh my God, she thought, I’m going to be late and I haven’t even had any lunch.
Fortunately, the queue in the coffee shop close to Tarquin’s bookstore wasn’t all that bad. She managed to grab a coffee, that would hopefully keep her going for the rest of the afternoon.
+++
Bicester Vintners, Bicester, England
Scarlett stepped into the shop, holding her coffee in front of her like it could physically protect her from Karl’s annoyed glower.
“Hi, I’m back,” she called, voice small.
Karl stood behind the counter, pen in hand, looking down at some kind of list. He looked up to acknowledge her, shook his head, and continued with what he was doing without making a comment.
Well, Scarlett thought, it could have been worse. She hung her coat up in the back room and returned to the shop. “Sorry, I’m a bit late.”
“A bit?”
“Well, I got talking to Tarquin and the time flew by. He lent me some—”
“Save it. I don’t want to know.”
She grimaced. “How—how’s the stock take?”
“Haven’t even started it yet, Scarlett. I’ve been too busy in here, serving customers.”
“Well, I’m back now. Why don’t you go and get started?”
He clapped his notebook shut, tucked it under his arm and marched off into the storeroom, shouting over his shoulder. “Brilliant idea, Scarlett. Just what do I pay you for?”
Leaning on the counter, staring at the floor, Scarlett’s mind started to wander. Karl had good reason to be angry with her today, but he was like this most days. Not too long ago, seeing him like that when she walked in, she might have been more fearful of his ire. Now she had friends, that if push came to shove, she could rely on.
The chime over the door sounded. As soon as a footstep cl
apped onto the floor, Scarlett put on a smile and waited for a customer to emerge from the aisles. “Good afternoon, —”
A familiar face ducked around the corner. Scarlett’s heart jumped in her chest. “Good afternoon, darling.”
“Tim!”
He smiled widely at her, but by the time he made it to the counter, his expression had fallen into a frown.
Scarlett narrowed her eyes. “Tim, what is it?”
“Darling, I’ve some really bad news, sorry.”
The look in his eyes reminded her of the sudden chill she’d felt earlier. “What? What’s wrong?”
“I have to cancel tonight. I have no choice.” He flashed a guilty smile. “Sorry.”
Scarlett turned her eyes to the ceiling and let out a long sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God.”
Tim laughed. “Well, that’s not the reaction I was expecting, but—”
“Oh, no! I didn’t mean it that way,” she said quickly. “It was just the look in your eyes when you said you had bad news, it made me think that—oh I don’t know.” She chuckled. “Am I forgiven?”
“Darling, of course you are.”
She smiled, though she was still a bit disappointed. She’d noticed that Tim had been a bit distant recently, despite their recent promise to keep things transparent between them. She hoped everything was okay between them, but more than that, hoped that Tim was doing all right himself.
Tim looked at her, puzzled. “You’ve gone quiet.”
“Have I?”
“Yes, you have. So, are you okay with it? Can we reschedule for another night?”
She pursed her lips, mulling over her internal dilemma: on one hand, saying it was fine to cancel was just a way to avoid addressing the larger issue. On the other hand, accusing him of keeping secrets over something like a cancelled date would look petty and childish, and she didn’t want to start that conversation on the wrong foot. She wasn’t actually angry at him, just worried. She took a deep breath and decided she had little alternative but to bite her tongue.
“Well.” She smiled. “Oh, I suppose so.”
Tim returned her smile, clearly relieved. “You’re the best.”
“Listen, why don’t we catch up over the weekend?”
“Yes—I’d like that.” He leaned across the counter and planted a kiss on her cheek, expression earnest. “Goodbye then, have a nice Friday. I’ll see you soon. I promise.”
Scarlett nodded, and gave him her best attempt at a cheery wave goodbye.
She waited until he’d finally left the shop, door swinging shut behind him, before slumping onto her elbows.
It was at times like these that she needed the support of her good friends. She took out her phone.
Hi Amanda. Can we talk later? She hit the send button, laid the phone on the counter and waited.
Amanda’s reply came quickly. Yes. What’s up?
Scarlett: Man trouble.
Amanda: I should have guessed. Can’t drink though. On a health kick.
After a little bit of discussion, they eventually settled on grabbing coffee.
Scarlett: Costa?
Amanda: Perfect
Scarlett: Meet you after you get off work
Amanda: No problem
She’d only just slipped the phone back into her pocket when the door opened again. This time it was a customer, which was, for once, a welcome distraction. She served a few more customers until Karl ended up asking her to help him with the stock take. By the time they’d finished up, it was time for her afternoon break.
CHAPTER TWO
Thursday Afternoon
Costa Coffee, Market Square, Bicester, UK
Scarlett put on her jacket and left for her coffee date with Amanda. She’d only taken two steps along the road when her mind started drifting. It had been a strange day, all in all. Well, the morning had been okay, but from the moment she’d stepped foot into Tarquin’s, it had been full of surprises. First about his private book collection, which he’d never so much as breathed about before, and then, he’d hinted that he and Tabitha had some kind of relationship. She shook her head. If there was any truth to her suspicions that Tarquin and her aunt were an item, then there were going to be serious ramifications–in more ways than one.
Perhaps the most unsettling event of the day was finding that weird looking book that had made her body suddenly go all chills. What was all that about?
Finally, there was Tim. All things considered, this had to be the most pressing of her problems and until it was resolved, she couldn’t spend too much time thinking about Tabitha and Tarquin. In many ways, this came as a relief.
Costa was packed full as always, but it wasn’t as bad as she’d been expecting. It was only five minutes before she got to place her order.
“I’ll have a hot chocolate, please. With marshmallows. Oh, and a chamomile tea for my friend.”
After another five minutes standing at the end of the counter, watching the baristas go about their work, she took the drinks to a table halfway along the back section of the shop. Placing one mug in front of herself and the other in front of the chair on the opposite side, she sat down and took out her phone. She was bang on time.
After a couple minutes, the door swung open, and she caught sight of Amanda standing in the doorway.
Scarlett waved, successfully drawing Amanda’s eye. She watched her friend push through the crowd towards her, and smiled as she took the seat opposite.
“Hi.”
Amanda removed her jacket and hung it over the back of her chair. “Hi,” she said.
“Busy day?”
Amanda took a long gulp of tea, seemingly scalding her tongue in the process. Once she’d swallowed, she let out a long, contented sigh. “That’s better.”
Scarlett chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes then, should I?”
Amanda wiped her mouth with a napkin. “You certainly can. So, what’s this about Tim?”
“Well, earlier this afternoon, he came swanning in and told me he’s canceling our date.”
Amanda reached across the table and patted her hand. “I know you were looking forward to this, but hey, these things happen. People cancel dates all the time.”
Scarlett shook her head. “I know, but it’s not just that.”
“Well, what is it then?”
Scarlett frowned. “He’s been a bit distant recently. Usually, I wouldn’t have thought twice about him canceling the date, but this time—well, it just feels like it’s more than that.”
Amanda nodded. “Oh. Well, if it’s any consolation at all, I know how you feel.”
“You having problems with Ronnie, too?”
“Well no, I wouldn’t say problems. But anyway, that’s for another day. Why do you think it’s more than just a date cancelation?”
It was hard to explain this sort of thing to Amanda, who knew nothing about the alternate life Scarlett had been living recently. She couldn’t tell her the whole story, so she settled on a half-truth. “Well, as I said, he’s been acting kind of cold for a while now. Always dashing out on short notice and coming back all loving and apologetic.”
“Oh. Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but—”
Scarlett pursed her lips. “I will take it the wrong way, so don’t say it.”
Amanda made a zipping motion across her lips. “Won’t say a word.”
A sighed escaped Scarlett. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, oh, he’s being evasive, he keeps canceling dates, and he’s hot one minute and cold the next—he must be going behind my back. I’ve thought about that too. Of course, I have. But it’s not that. I’m certain of it.”
Amanda looked at the front door over Scarlett’s shoulder. “What makes you so certain?”
She opened her mouth to respond, but couldn’t quite come up with the words. She paused, took a sip of hot chocolate, and said demurely, “Mmmm… this sure tastes good.”
Amanda reached across and, laughing, punched her on the sho
ulder. “Don’t be rotten.”
“Sorry.”
Amanda turned serious. “Back to the question at hand—what makes you so certain that he isn’t going behind your back?”
“Because I’d know if he was. He’s just not the type, that’s all.” She shrugged.
“Well as long as you’re certain. You’re my friend and I care about you. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”
Scarlett looked at her for a long moment, grateful to have the friend she did in Amanda. “I know.”
“So if it’s not that, what do you think it might be?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. Part of me thinks it’s just his job, but his job has always been important to him, ever since we met, so it must be something new.”
“Mmm. I was about to say that it must be his job. Let me have a think.” Amanda lifted her mug and took a gulp of tea. After swallowing, she took her teaspoon and clinked the spoon against the mug as she stirred. Eventually, she rested the spoon on the saucer, looked at Scarlett with a triumphant expression and said, “Men are like that. They just need to have their cave days now and then. It’s in their genes or something.”
Scarlett grinned. “A cave day? So, supposing you’re right, why would he need to do this, to begin with?”
Amanda paused for thought. “He might be tired.”
Laughing, she said “well, thanks a bunch, friend!”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Well, go on, what did you mean? Get yourself out of this one.”
“He has a very demanding job that occupies a lot of his thoughts, agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“And he very rarely switches off, by all accounts. Agreed on that too?”
Scarlett nodded.
“So if he’s always thinking about something, he must get tired.”
“He’s never said he’s tired,” Scarlett countered.
“Well some people are like that, aren’t they? Look at Margaret Thatcher.”
Scarlett laughed. “I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you.”
“No,” Amanda said, fighting off the laughter. “What I mean is, well, she hardly ever slept, did she? What was it, two hours a night or something ridiculous like that? And from the clips I’ve seen of her, she never looked tired at all, did she? And then in the end, she went… ”
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