by Mona Marple
“Yep,” I said.
“I can’t wait! Shall I pick you up?” Crystal gushed. I could picture her, in her high-rise apartment where every surface seemed to be covered with unicorns. She’d asked for a real one every Christmas until she was… well, she was probably still asking, actually.
“I’m not going,” I said, my own voice quiet compared to hers.
“What? Of course you are! We’re going together!”
“Really?” I asked. “Why are you so keen?”
“Are you kidding me? Aren’t you desperate to see how the place has changed? See which old stiffs are still hanging around the place?”
“Not really,” I admitted. I’d rarely even thought of Winifred’s since I’d graduated.
Crystal laughed. “Oh, Ellie, it’ll be a laugh.”
“Hmm,” I said, unconvinced.
“I’ll hold your hand on the boat,” Crystal said.
I rolled my eyes. Winifred’s was housed in an old abandoned mansion on an otherwise empty island. Invisible to mere mortals, it could only be reached by boat (although Mrs Grimestone, the school counsellor, who was as unsympathetic as people came, insisted on arriving by broom no matter the weather) and the waters there were notoriously choppy. I’d turned up at least three days a week green with seasickness.
“Is that a yes?”
“I can just think of better things to do with my evenings,” I said, which even I knew was a weak argument.
“Mm-hmm,” Crystal teased. We’d spent the last four Friday evenings in our separate living rooms, in pyjamas, chatting by phone while watching the same old romantic movies and dreaming of a Mr Right appearing for each of us. This obsession with romance and happy ever after was our guilty secret - we were both too determined to be strong, independent women to let anyone else know about it.
“What do you think it’s about anyway?” I asked. I was curious, sure, just not curious enough to watch to get dressed up and step back in time ten years.
“Well,” Crystal said. She lowered her voice, conspiratorially. She always heard the best gossip and fed it back to me, like feeding scraps to a hungry dog. Gossip was my guilty secret too. “I heard they’re turning the school into an Academy.”
“It says that much on the invitation!” I said with a laugh, then paused. “What does that even mean?”
“I don’t really know,” Crystal said. Her mother worked high up in education in some role that meant she was rarely at home but that when she was, she was constantly fielding phone calls. A good portion of Crystal’s gossip came from snippets of overheard conversations. “But it’s bad. Mummy had to attend an emergency meeting about it this week. Everything in her diary was bumped so that could happen urgently. She was not happy.”
“I bet,” I said. I knew Crystal’s mummy well enough to know how much she hated her calendar being changed.
“I think the plans are going to be announced at this event, and it’s going to be a real showdown. They’re saying it’s a celebration but from what I hear, there’s nothing to celebrate. Trust me, you don’t want to miss it.”
“Fine,” I said. I always gave in to Crystal, and she knew it. It was just a question of how long I lasted before my resistance crumbled.
“Okay, good,” Crystal said, her voice light and airy again. “I was thinking we should probably go clothes shopping. I haven’t bought a new ball gown in, like, months.”
I made a crackly noise from within my throat, as if there was interference on the line. Agreeing to go to the event was one thing, but there was no way I was going to spend money on new clothes to impress people I hadn’t seen for a decade. “I think I’m losing you,” I said quickly, and then hung up.
Godiva snickered at me from his chair.
3
Violet
I arrived at the dock early, as normal. I was excited to return to the old place and I’d always had a soft spot for the boat hand, Rex.
I’d also pulled out all the stops with my outfit. While the invitation hadn’t specified dress code, Winifred’s people prided themselves on overdressing. School assemblies had a strict full suit policy, and the occasional hysterical parent had been turned away from parents’ evening for wearing white shoes after Labour day.
My ball gown was so multicoloured I would have made a rainbow look dull.
“Well, well, could it be?” Rex called out. He hadn’t changed a bit. Bent double, with a beard that almost touched the floor, the running joke was that he transformed under the full moon into an irresistible incubus. As far fetched as that sounded, there were more than a couple of female Winifred’s teachers who couldn’t quite meet his eye.
“Rex, you old devil,” I teased. He knew well that it was me. I was fairly unforgettable, with my mad dress sense and zany hair.
He grinned at me, his mouth opening to reveal two yellowed teeth. A mole stood proudly on his nose, three hairs sprouting from the growth. Behind him, the waters were choppy. The waters were always choppy. An old teacher had placed the waters under an eternal bad weather spell to discourage people from venturing out to investigate the island.
“Violet Warren, looking lovely if I may say,” Rex said with a gummy smile. I glanced at the sky. A crescent moon. I should be safe.
“And you never change, Rex. I thought you’d be enjoying a retirement in the sun by now,” I teased. He wasn’t much older than me but he’d inherited the job from his father and had been watching these waters since he was out of diapers.
“Next year,” he said. He’d been saying that since I was a student.
“You’ll be here until they drag you away in a coffin,” I said, as my cheeks flushed. Being dragged away in a coffin was exactly what had happened to Rex’s father, who’d turned to the bottle on the cold, lonely nights and had stumbled into the waters one cold November evening. Ah well, sensitivity had never been my strong point.
“Not me,” Rex insisted.
“No, you’re probably right,” I agreed as a streak of lightning illuminated the sky. I looked around but nobody else had arrived. “Is it just me, then?”
“Well, do you know what time it is?” Rex asked. “You’re an hour early.”
I shrugged. “I had to allow time to catch up with you.”
“Shame you weren’t here two nights ago,” Rex said with a wink, his voice gruff. I did the math and realised the full moon had been two nights ago.
“Anyway,” I said as I pulled my pashmina tighter around my shoulders. The dress itself was a little too low cut and the last thing I wanted was Rex getting the wrong idea about me turning up so early. “Shall we go across?”
“Nah,” he said without even considering the question. “Seen the waters?”
“Well, of course,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow and I moved closer and truly inspected the waters. As I gazed in, a Piranha met my gaze and jumped out, snapped in my direction. An unruly student had released the fish years before and they’d mutated and bred ever since.
“Gonna be a rough night,” Rex murmured. “I’ll be going across in as few trips as I can. You’ll have to wait, I’m afraid.”
I pursed my lips. “Is that a good idea, Rex? Why don’t you call the Squad?”
“Magick Squad?” Rex asked with a snort. “They’re all about Health and Safety these days. Won’t catch them out in a storm.”
“They always were lazy,” I said. The Magick Squad were supposed to deal with any issues that broke out at the school, but in reality they often had excuses when they were called upon. “The Magick Squad; the place for average witches who want a desk job!”
“You won’t get an argument from me there,” Rex said. He walked past me and into the boathouse, and as I felt the first thick, heavy drops of rain hit my shoulders, I followed him. The boathouse hadn’t changed at all since Rex’s father had died, and it showed. It was basic, with a cot in the far corner, a couple of crates to sit on, and a camping hob. The place only had electricity because Sid Snipe, the hea
dmaster, had insisted on it.
I’d been in the boathouse before, like most pupils. It was considered school property, not Rex’s home, and it wasn’t unusual for the naughty crowd to kick him out of the place over a lunch break so they could get up to who knew what. I’d found my way - in a brief identity crisis that only a fourteen year old can have - in one of those gangs once, and still remembered Rex’s docile face as he was ordered to just give us half an hour, old pal by some trust fund warlock whose name I couldn’t recall. The crime of choice that had been cigar smoking, and I’m managed to make myself small enough and quiet enough that I was never even offered a puff.
The whole incident still made me feel uncomfortable.
We took a crate each and sat in silence as the rain hammered down outside. A dull feeling of foreboding sat heavy in my stomach like a rock, but Rex seemed unfussed. He held a small piece of wood and pulled the bark from it in thin strands, like a cheese string, to pass the time.
“Oh!” I exclaimed at the sound of motion outside. Buses had been organised to bring guests and it sounded like one had just arrived. I listened to the cut of the engine, a squeal as someone got out and felt the rain attack them. “I think others are here.”
Rex said nothing but remained focused on his stick. I’d often wondered if he loved or hated the Winifred’s students, with their general sense of entitlement and arrogance. I pondered that question as if I hadn’t been a student but some person in the middle, stuck between the two sides.
“Any chance you can calm the waters a little?” I asked, my voice unusually timid.
He let out a cackle but didn’t answer. The truth, I knew, was that his own magical powers weren’t strong enough to affect the spell controlling the waters. He’d been thrown overboard many times and his bare arms in the summer revealed the bite marks from the Piranhas, angry red patterns that never seemed to calm.
The door burst open and a group, headed by Rufus Morton-Marshall of course, burst indoors. Rex jumped up from his crate straight away.
“Don’t be coming in here!” He screeched, flapping his arms around as if he was trying to discourage birds from settling near his picnic table. “You’ll soak it.”
“And do whole cents worth of damage?” A 40-year-old cheerleader asked him from behind Rufus. Her hand was linked with his and I guessed she was Maddie Clearwater, although her face had sunk to such an extent it was impossible to see the beauty queen she’d once been.
“It’s time to go,” Rex said with a sigh. I stood and met Rufus’s gaze.
“Come on,” I said, with more authority than Rex could muster. “You heard him.”
“Is that Violet Warren?” A voice within the crowd whispered, and I rolled my eyes. I’d done the commencement speech at the school for a few years, and the family name still had a sense of notoriety in the right circles. Being recognised was tiresome.
“Will her sister be here?” Someone else asked. Oh yes, my sister, the rock star and the person I’d least like to spend an evening with. I’d checked her tour dates before accepting the invitation.
“Lead the way, Rex,” I said with a warm smile.
“I’m a huge fan of your art work,” the botox experiment formerly known as Maddie Clearwater gushed as she tottered alongside me in sky-high heels. I kept my head down. “We have one of your paintings in our library.”
As if that woman had any need for a library. “Really?”
“Sacrifice, do you remember it?” She asked, as if an artist could ever forget one of their pieces of work.
“You own Sacrifice?” I asked, stunned. The piece was one of my earliest, back when my technique was a little rough around the edges. For some strange reason that made it one of my most valuable. The studio had sold it years before for an asking price that had paid off my mortgage in full.
“We do,” she continued to gush. She really was intolerable. She pulled Rufus into the conversation in that sickening way that some couples had to. Everything was we and us. “Rufus and I married right after graduation. I’m Maddie Morton-Marshall, now. We’ve got two adorable babies, haven’t we, Rufee?”
“Yes dear,” he agreed, as if her statement was so unbelievable it needed corroborating.
“How wonderful for you,” I said through gritted teeth as we began to board the boat. The boat, in contrast to Rex’s living quarters, was replaced each year with the latest model. Rex looked out of place steering such a high-spec yacht, but he was talented, even on such choppy waters.
“Pugs, they are,” Maddie said. Unfortunately, she’d taken the seat next to me and fixed her doe eyes on me.
“Ah,” I said, entirely unsure what to do with that information. “Do you still do pageants? Cheerleading?”
“Oh no,” Maddie said as if the question was ludicrous. “I’m far too busy keeping a home now. Rufee’s got a big job in the city. I mean,” she said, and she leaned in to my ear and cupped her hand around her mouth, “it’s a little secret, but he’s one of the big wigs with the Magick Squad.”
“How wonderful,” I said, my suspicions about that organisation well and truly confirmed.
4
Ellie
The school hadn’t changed one bit, of course.
As much as Winifred’s liked to create the impression of old world grandeur, the truth was it relied on generous donations more than it would like. The fees, that my family couldn’t stretch to pay, didn’t even make a dent in the upkeep once they’d gone towards buying materials, paying teachers and feeding the mass of growing, hungry students.
“It’s sooooooo good to be back!” Crystal said as she high-fived a man in black tie. She looked fit for the Oscars in a slinky glitter dress that trailed behind her, hovering a few centimetres from the ground to avoid it getting dirty. Crystal loved turning her magic skills to anything relating to her appearance, while it would never occur to me to cast a spell like that. Our friendship amazed me sometimes. “Oh, no, is that Kraspian Finnelli?”
I glanced over to the right but the crowd was too thick for me to see through, and everyone looked the same. I hadn’t recognised a single person yet without Crystal pointing them out. The name Kraspian rang a bell vaguely but I couldn’t recall why.
“The really, really, tall guy with the top hat? Like he needs to be any taller! He’s such a hoot!”
“Oh, yeah, I see him,” I said. With that description, I couldn’t miss him. “Who is he?”
Crystal turned to me, eyes hidden under at least thirteen layers of mascara. “Are you kidding me? He’s only the most eligible bachelor here! You know the Finnelli’s, right? They practically own Italy.”
“Erm…” I murmured, “how do you know he’s a bachelor?”
“Facebook, duh,” she said with an eye roll, then returned her attention to Kraspian, who happened to glance in our direction. She offered a demure little wave and he grinned. He was handsome, I had to give her that. “Oh, shoot, he’s coming over. This could be our happy ever after!”
“Both of us?” I asked with a snort.
“Behave,” Crystal said. “We’ll see if he prefers red heads or blondes, I guess. I’ll never fall out with you over a man, Ellie Bean.”
“Phew,” I said with an eye roll.
Kraspian sauntered over to us, all leg and muscles rippling beneath his white shirt. He made an outfit look good. I remembered him vaguely as a sports star from the year above ours, all teeth and year-round tan, naturally gifted at soccer and baseball and golf and tennis.
“Ladies, good evening! I’m so glad you came,” he said, and to my surprise he directed the comments to us both, and dipped in to give us each a kiss on the cheek. “It feels like yesterday but I’ll admit this is testing my memory a little. There are some folks here I can barely remember at all, if I’m honest. You, ladies, however, look as fresh as the day I last saw you. Eleanor Bean, you opened that coffee shop I believe? And Crystal Zee, what the devil are you up to these days?”
I stared at him, mouth agape, a
s all of my defences left me. At that point, I’d have happily taken him on a shared custody arrangement. The man was perfect.
“Well, you know, a bit of this, bit of that,” Crystal said with a dismissive shrug of her shoulders. She’d had the occasional summer job since graduating - she’d even done a fortnight in the coffee shop which had pushed our friendship to the limits - but there was no pressure for her to earn money and she was comfortable with filling her days in other ways.
“And the coffee business?” Kraspian asked as he cocked his head in my direction. His gaze was like sunshine and marshmallows. “You’re one smart cookie. It’s the industry to be in, huh? I can’t walk past a coffee shop without spending money. In fact, I keep meaning to get over to Mystic Springs and pay the place a visit.”
“You do?” Crystal and I squeaked in unison.
“I’m a bit of a coffee addict,” Kraspian admitted.
“Well, you’re welcome, anytime,” I said, then wondered if that made me sound too keen. “Any paying customer is, to be honest.”
He blinked at me.
“But especially an old friend, right?” Crystal prompted me, and I nodded dumbly.
“Well, ladies, I sure hope I’m sitting on your table tonight,” Kraspian said. He reached into the pocket of his velvet tux and pulled out two business cards. - thick, embossed.
Finnelli Enterprises Global, Kraspian Finnelli, CEO
I didn’t even have a business card and had never before felt like I should have any. At that moment, I felt as if I’d never needed anything in life as much as I needed business cards. Well, apart from Kraspian’s hand in marriage, of course.
He glided away from us as if he was walking on water, and we agreed to take a powder room break to compose ourselves.