by Helen Harper
‘You bastard!’ The two female ghosts rounded on him. ‘You only died last month! He’s lying.’
I put my fingers in my ears, closed my eyes and sang, ‘Lalalalalalalala.’ Then I opened one eye. Damn it – they were still there although they’d stopped arguing in favour of staring at me as if I were mad. Brutus and Winter had the same expressions as the ghosts pasted on their faces. ‘Look,’ I said. ‘I will help you out when I can. But can’t you see that I can’t do anything right now? I have bigger problems to worry about.’
‘Bigger problems?’ the plump ghost shrieked. ‘Bigger than death?’
‘You’re already dead,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘I’m sorry, but there it is. I can’t change that. There are others who are still alive who might soon be dead like you if we don’t stop a killer in his tracks. I will help you pass over but not today. Come back at a later date.’
‘You have to promise. You have to promise to help us.’
I sighed. ‘I promise.’
She pouted. ‘But…’
‘Let’s go, Martha,’ said the other woman. ‘Another time.’
‘Yes.’
‘You won’t help us today.’
‘No.’
‘But you will another time.’
‘Yes.’
There were several grumbles but they all vanished. I breathed out and turned to Winter. ‘This sucks,’ I told him flatly.
He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Yeah.’
‘We could magic our way out of here,’ I suggested.
‘There are witches here. They’d stop us in heartbeat.’
Actually, they wouldn’t. Both Winter and I were stronger than any of them, even in our weakened states. I picked at the drying vomit on my top and flicked it off, vaguely disgusted with myself. He was no doubt blaming our incarceration on his flagrant rule-breaking. That showed what he knew.
‘If I hadn’t broken that mirror, we wouldn’t be here now,’ I said.
‘Bitch,’ Brutus muttered. Just this once, I was tempted to agree with him.
‘The mirror had nothing to do with it,’ Winter said.
‘Seven years, Rafe. Seven more years of this.’ I lay down on the narrow bed and closed my eyes. ‘I’m going to sleep. Wake me up in 2024.’
Winter put an arm round me. When I didn’t twitch, he sat on the edge of the bed. I scooted over to give him room and he lay down. It was a tight fit but he was snuggly and warm. I grinned to myself. By comforting me, he’d stop worrying that all this was his fault. It was a win-win situation. I relaxed and took advantage of the peace and quiet.
‘Food,’ Brutus demanded.
‘It might have escaped your notice, Brutus,’ I murmured, ‘but I’m not in a position to get you any food right now. You’ll have to be patient.’ My nostrils tickled as the smell of tuna drifted over.
‘Aw,’ said the irritatingly familiar tones of Tarquin, ‘you two look so sweet together.’
‘Food,’ Brutus repeated.
Winter and I sighed simultaneously. I opened one eye. Tarquin didn’t just have tuna with him. That looked like pizza. Damn him for being thoughtful.
‘Food,’ Brutus said, clearly hoping this was third time lucky.
I shrugged. My stomach was already growling. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. ‘Food,’ I said.
Winter sat up. ‘Foooooood,’ he groaned.
Tarquin looked from Brutus to me to Winter. ‘You know you three are really strange sometimes.’ He offered a disarming smile. ‘But I aim to please.’ He passed through the bowl of tuna and the pizza then, as we started wolfing down the food, he jangled a set of keys. ‘I’m not just here bringing you a late-night snack. I’m here to free you.’ His smile grew. ‘You can thank me later.’
I crammed more cheesy goodness into my mouth. Anything to avoid having to speak. Being rescued by Tarquin Villeneuve was almost more than I could bear.
‘The good news is we know where Hal Prescott is. He’ll be picked up before you can say “thank you very much, Tarquin darling”.’
I swallowed. ‘What? Where is he?’
Tarquin shook his head. ‘No, you say “thank you very much, Tarquin darling” first. I am your saviour after all.’
I wiped my greasy fingers on my jeans and stood up, ambled over to him and gazed at him through the bars. ‘Tarquin, if you don’t tell us exactly where Blackbeard is, or what is going on, I will reach through here and throttle you.’ I smiled pleasantly just to show I meant it.
He rolled his eyes. ‘You’re the one behind bars, Ivy. You’re the one who…’
Winter stood and walked up beside me. Tarquin’s voice faltered. ‘Fine,’ he snapped. ‘The investigation team did really well. They found a book in Blackbeard’s flat with a bookmark indicating that he is interested in Uffington. There’s an ancient drawing of a white horse cut into a hillside there which…’
I passed a hand over my eyes. For goodness’ sake. ‘Yeah, yeah. We know that. How do you know where Blackbeard himself is, though?’
‘Because the car registered in his name has been located at a small hotel on the outskirts of Uffington and he’s already checked in as a guest.’ Tarquin’s voice was smug. ‘We have the place surrounded. Blackbeard is ours.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘But I’ve suggested we rename him The Bearded Butcher. I think it will stick. It has a better ring to it than Blackbeard.’
‘Tarquin, wait. You know you can’t use magic against him, right?’
He scoffed. ‘Of course! We all know that. Armed police are going to do the heavy lifting. It’ll be the same team that brought you two in. They’re highly talented and more than ready to save the day. With our input, of course.’
‘“Our” referring to…?’
‘Me. Us. The Order.’ Tarquin’s expression was blank. ‘Who else?’
‘Who else indeed?’ Winter murmured.
‘Tarq,’ I said slowly, ‘this operation is taking place over a hundred miles away.’
He bobbed his head. ‘Yes.’
‘But instead of being there, you’re here.’
‘Everyone else is afraid of you. Once I’ve released you and completed the paperwork, I will be joining the others in Uffington.’
I scratched my head. ‘Hmmm. And how much paperwork is there?’
Winter leaned his head down towards me. ‘Oh, there will be a lot,’ he said. ‘And you have to take great care completing it. It has to be done by hand, you see.’
I smirked. ‘The Order does like everything shipshape and ticked off, don’t they? You’ll be sorting out that paperwork and crossing the Ts all night.’
‘It won’t take me that long!’ Tarquin said. ‘I’ll still have plenty of time to make it to Uffington to help with the final arrest. You two won’t. You’re forbidden from going anywhere near there.’
Whether Tarquin was being kept out of the way or not, that was unwelcome news. Winter stiffened and shoved his hands into pockets, probably so we couldn’t see his fists clenching. ‘What do you mean,’ he growled, ‘we’re forbidden?’
A slow grin spread across Tarquin’s face. It wasn’t exactly malicious; Tarquin was self-serving and wholly selfish but he didn’t take pleasure in others’ unhappiness per se, although he did seem to be getting a certain amount of perverse enjoyment out of this situation. I suspected that was because of my involvement rather than Winter’s.
‘Your reaction is not unexpected,’ he declared. He reached into his pocket and, with a dramatic flourish, produced a mobile phone. He hit dial then turned the phone onto speaker, holding it up so that we could both see the screen. Apparently, we were waiting for ‘Ippy’ to answer.
‘This is Ipsissimus Collings.’
‘Ipsissimus! This is Tarquin. I’m here with Raphael Winter and Ivy Wilde. They seem somewhat perturbed by the order to stay away from Uffington.’
‘Indeed,’ the Ipsissimus said, sounding entirely unsurprised. ‘Pass them the phone then piss off.’
Tarquin blinked
. ‘But…’
‘Young man, you have a lot of paperwork to complete. You should probably make a start on it so you can finish it by morning.’
I didn’t try to stop myself from smiling. With a flash of sulky annoyance, Tarquin passed the phone through the bars to Winter and stomped off.
Clearly not in the mood for niceties, Winter snapped, ‘Is Villeneuve correct?’ he demanded. ‘Have we been banned from going to Uffington and confronting Blackbeard?’
‘I believe,’ the Ipsissimus returned calmly, ‘that right now you’re in a jail cell and banned from going anywhere.’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘The operation to bring in Hal Prescott is a joint one between the police and the Order. As you and Ms Wilde are neither, I can no longer involve you. You’ve caused me considerable problems by getting yourselves locked up.’
‘We found Blackbeard,’ I said, jumping in before Winter could say something he’d really regret.
‘You did. And, believe me, Ms Wilde, your actions have not gone unnoted. But you both assaulted a group of police officers. You broke into a flat and destroyed property that may be key to this investigation. If it were down to me, I would maintain your involvement but my hands are tied.’ He paused. ‘And there’s really no need to worry. Hal Prescott will be safely in custody before long. The hotel he’s in is surrounded and we’re being very cautious because we know he uses booby-trapped explosives. He will not be hurting anyone else.’
I looked at Winter. It was galling to be left out of the loop when we’d invested so much, but we were hurting. He could barely open his right eye. My head hurt and I hadn’t gone this long without a decent night’s sleep since I had colic at the tender age of one. Maybe this was a good thing.
‘Are you doing this to make a point?’ Winter ground out. ‘That I should return to the Order then I won’t be kept out of investigations?’
‘You should return to the Order,’ the Ipsissimus said frankly. ‘But I am not so scheming, Raphael. You know me better than that.’
Winter’s eyes flashed to mine. ‘I thought I did,’ he said, with more than a hint of darkness. I reached out and squeezed his arm. He still seemed determined to take my almost-death more personally than I did. ‘I’m no longer so sure.’
‘I’m not omnipotent. The lengths you have gone to in order to get what we needed went beyond what I can manage. I’ve had to pull in just about every favour I could to get the pair of you released. There’s nothing more I can do. For what it’s worth, the Hallowed Order of Magical Enlightenment will forever be indebted to you. And, from the bottom of my own heart, I thank you.’
‘Let it go, Rafe,’ I said quietly. ‘They have it in hand. They’ll bring Blackbeard in. By the time we get home and get cleaned up, it’ll be morning.’ I sighed. ‘We’re meeting your parents for Sunday dinner.’ I was only reminding him of that for his sake, not mine.
Winter ran a hand over his face. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Okay.’ He hesitated. ‘Tell them to be careful though. Blackbeard – Hal Prescott – is smart. Don’t underestimate what he’s capable of.’
‘I’m still in Oxford but I’ll be sure to pass that along,” the Ipsissimus said. ‘Go and get some rest. You both deserve it.’
Amen to that.
Chapter Eighteen
I’m not the most lithe person in the universe but I don’t usually walk like a robot from an old seventies sci-fi television show either. Now, every part of me ached. I wasn’t sure my legs would ever bend at the knee properly again. I had bruises in places I’d never known existed. There was a particularly colourful one tracing its way across my collarbone and up my neck, wrapping around my skin like some kind of designer scarf.
Standing next to Winter, however, I looked the picture of health. He was doing his best not to show his pain but, given the black eye and the bandages covering the worst of his cuts, that was a pointless effort. I’d taken painkillers to get rid of the worst of the throbbing pain in my skull after Winter had used his magic to assure me that my slight concussion was nothing to worry about, but they made me woozy and thick-tongued. About the only positive was that I’d had a long, hot shower so at least I no longer smelled of vomit. I was now wearing my only smart dress – a green frilly concoction that I suspected made me look like the Incredible Hulk even when I wasn’t covered in bruises – while Winter had on an immaculate black suit. The pair of us looked ridiculous.
‘We don’t have do this,’ Winter said. ‘My family aren’t monsters. They’ll understand if we cancel.’
I grabbed Winter’s hand to stop myself from running back home with a scream of delight. This was going to happen sooner or later; if I did it now, looking like I’d been in a fight with Godzilla and sounding as if I’d downed a bottle of vodka, perhaps I wouldn’t be invited back. One could always hope. And I had my secret weapon. I raised a pointed eyebrow at Brutus, for once trotting by my side as if he were the most perfectly behaved cat in the world.
‘It’ll be fine,’ I said, sounding far more confident than I was. ‘I can’t wait to meet your parents.’
‘Liar.’
Yeah, okay. I offered him a lopsided smile and shrugged one shoulder – it hurt too much to raise both.
Winter bent his head and, ever so gently, kissed my cheek. I still felt a thrill of delight zip through me at the touch of his lips. ‘Thank you, Ivy. I do appreciate this.’ He smiled. ‘Wait here and I’ll check they’re ready for us. My mother hates being surprised.’
She was going to love his bruised face then. I glanced at Brutus. ‘Now remember,’ I whispered. ‘You don’t do anything until I give you the signal. I might even not give you the signal at all. This might all be lovely and wonderful and flowery and sweet. But just in case, you stay on your claws.’
Brutus blinked up at me with overly innocent eyes.
‘You do remember what the signal is, right?’ I tugged on my right earlobe. ‘When I do that, you spring into action. Got that?’
‘Food.’
I counted to five in my head. ‘Do this for me, Bruty baby, and you can have all the food you want. I promise. I’ll even make the trip to that shop on the other side of town to get those fishy treats you like so much.’
Brutus didn’t say anything else but he gave a loud purr. That was the best answer I was going to get.
Winter popped his head out of the door. ‘We’re all good,’ he said. He held out his arm. ‘You’ll love my family, Ivy.’
I took his arm. Mmm. I had my doubts. If I made it out of here without any more bruises, I’d count that as a win. I shook out my hair, drew in a deep breath and walked into Winter’s ancestral home with my head held high. It couldn’t be that bad.
The first thing I noticed upon crossing the threshold was the smell: old-fashioned beeswax mixed with the aroma of home-baked bread. I swallowed. The kind of person who kneaded their own dough was not the kind of person I normally had much in common with. Didn’t Winter’s parents know that supermarkets sold bread in handy sliced loaves?
The floor – a heavy cream carpet that my feet immediately sank into – was spotless. Winter gestured at my shoes and started taking off his own. Cool. It might ostensibly be to avoid tracking in dirt but the action made me feel more relaxed. Perhaps I should have come in my pyjamas.
There was a great deal of shiny mahogany, from the ornate banister framing the staircase to my right to an old-fashioned bureau and various side tables on my left. Yes, there was a lot of furniture but this was a big house; there was no sense of stark bleakness as there had been in Blackbeard’s place, but this place didn’t seem cluttered either. I thought of my own wobbly pieces, most of which had been flatpack and inevitably had several screws missing, and grinned to myself.
A couple appeared. It didn’t take a genius to know who they were. The man possessed the same stiff spine that I’d often observed in Winter, coupled with a moustache which had been waxed to within an inch of its life. Although he was retired, his smartly
pressed jacket still bore the medals that he must have won during his military career. The woman had the same brilliant blue eyes as Winter, together with a remarkably unlined face. Either she’d been dedicated enough to use cold cream every day since she was about three years old, or I could look forward to Winter’s skin remaining soft and fresh whilst I gradually got more and more wrinkled. Then I blinked as I realised what I’d been thinking. I was completely certain we were going to grow old together. Well, well, well.
Winter’s mother held out her arms. ‘You must be Ivy. I’m so thrilled to finally meet you. I’m Sophia. This is George.’ She drew me into a tight hug which, I had to admit, was not what I’d expected. ‘Raphael has told us so much about you.’
My stomach dropped. Which parts exactly? Had he told them that I was often too lazy to walk to the end of the road to buy milk, so I had an arrangement with one of the kids who lived in a nearby flat? Had he mentioned that sometimes I turned my underwear inside out so I could wear it for another day without washing it? Maybe, I thought worriedly, he’d told them about the time I’d watched five episodes of Antiques Roadshow in a row because I didn’t know where the remote control was and I couldn’t be bothered to look for it.
I forced a smile. ‘All good, I hope!’
She smiled back and said nothing. Uh oh.
George, Winter’s father, obviously wasn’t the hugging type. I supposed I should be grateful he didn’t salute; instead, he offered me his hand and, when I took it, squeezed mine until I was certain it was about to drop off. ‘So,’ he said, ‘you’re a witch.’
Retrieving my poor fingers from his grip, I managed a nod. ‘Yes.’
‘But you’re not in the Order.’
‘No.’
He regarded me with sharp eyes. ‘You couldn’t handle the discipline?’
‘Father!’ Winter said, his brow creasing.
‘Something like that,’ I murmured.
By my feet, Brutus let out a small miaow. George glared icily down at him. ‘That is not Princess Parma Periwinkle.’