by Aline Riva
A short while after the doors had opened up and they had retreated back towards a large double radiator near the first display case, the group turned up a few minutes early. Cherry watched as he ushered them inside and then closed the doors, blocking out the cold. Then he turned to the group and she looked on, watching as Drake proved he truly was the showman he claimed to be.
“Welcome to the Museum of Witchcraft and Oddities!” he said, smiling warmly as he cast his glance at the small gathering in front of him.
The booking had been for twenty and they were made up of two sets of pensioners, three young women, a couple in their thirties, four guys in their late teens and a family with four young children and a woman in her early fifties who was armed with a camera and already keenly looking around at the sight of the display cases.
“On this tour you will see artefacts and recreations of examples of types of magic through the ages and this does include a section further on in the tour depicting devil worship and Satanism – all wax dummies and props but we don't allow children under fourteen in that section because some of the imagery can be disturbing. Having said that, if anyone is of a nervous disposition be aware that some of the displays you are about to see may be unsettling. Is everyone ready?”
The group nodded and murmured in agreement.
“Then we shall begin,” Drake said, and he turned away and led them up the entrance hall, pausing by each case to describe the contents.
Cherry watched as he gestured to the cauldron behind glass and told the story of a local witch rumoured to have owned it in the eighteenth century, then they moved on to the other items – the chalices, the blades, the bells to summon powers from beyond.
“...and this is the first of the voodoo displays,” he said when they reached the final case in the entrance hall, “Voodoo dolls...poppets, cloth images representing the one to be enchanted – or cursed!”
Cherry listened as he gave an entertaining talk on the use of voodoo dolls, then they moved to the archway and he paused to speak fondly of his great great grandfather and how the roots of the business had started so long ago.
Then they went through into the dimly lit room where under glass, bones and skulls were arranged and ancient silk wall hangings were protected by a roped off area , each one bore magical symbols and each had a tale and Drake told it in such a way that every member of the party was enthralled.
by the time they had moved on to the voodoo room where a wax work witchdoctor was frozen invoking a god at an altar, only the mother of the four children had needed to step back to catch a toddler and an excited five year old who wanted to climb into a cauldron.
The rooms Drake led the party into were all different and filled with fascinating objects : There was a recreation of a witches cottage, then a broomstick collection. The next room was lighter, filled with information and items used for faerie magic. This was one of the few rooms the children really took an interest in to such an extent that in the middle of a tale of how to summon faeries to assist with nature magic, Drake had to break off from his speech.
“Don't touch the faeries, please...”he said, then glanced to the little girl's mother, “Can you get her away from the display?”
The woman looked at him apologetically as she took her daughter's hand, pulling the little girl back just in time as she reached up and nearly brought down a cascade of faeries suspended low to the branch of a strange looking tree that had a smiling face set into its bark.
Next was a section on gypsy magic, followed by a small area where the tools of a witch were collected and laid out under glass. Then they went down a narrow, dark corridor after Drake had advised the children wait behind. As they entered the dark room lit with red bulbs, the sight of semi nude figures around an altar that bore an inverted cross where a naked, blood streaked wax work of a woman was laid out drew a few gasps.
“A sacrifice to the Devil,” Drake said, then went into his speech about the history of Satanism and Devil worship, tying it into a few tales of local witches who had been burned at the stake in medieval times.
After leaving the dimly lit room behind, they were led down a narrow hallway and into a room filled with smaller glass cases, this room was dedicated to contact with the dead. There was a ouija board , a crystal ball collection and a deck of very old, very rare tarot cards. In another case was a collection of strange looking herbs, dried and preserved in bundles.
“Herbs to purify, to drive away evil spirits - and herbs said to help raise demons during rituals...” Drake turned, making a sweeping gesture towards the long display cabinet at the back of the room.
“In here we have translated pages of an ancient book of shadows said to be owned by the witch Nell Pepper, who was known as a local wise woman and herbalist but rumoured to have been capable of curses and raising the dead....”
Cherry went over to the case and looked inside, taking in the sight of pages translated from the centuries old text laid out beside the thick, leather bound book that was tied with string and marked with swirling patterns.
“Her book of shadows is a collector's item, one of a kind and I'm afraid I will not be able to take it out of the case and allow you to look inside – it is very old and we have to keep it under glass. But it was rumoured to have the power to restore life to the dead. As you can see by the translations, she claimed to be able to call upon a demon to do the deed for her...”
On leaving the small room, they took a turn down another hallway and then doors opened up into a large hall, where the oddities section of the museum made for a strange and colourful display – one corner was dedicated to the Egyptian mummies and another to the strange collection of babies in jars, making Cherry feel glad Drake had told her in advance that these were only fakes, even the young men in the group paled a little at the sight of seemingly dead bodies in preservative. The mermaid was skeletal, there were some interesting wax works depicting live so called freaks who had once travelled with the fair in the old days – a three legged man, a sword swallower and a tiny woman with strangely long fingers.
Drake had a tale to tell with each exhibit, here he relished the chance to be a lively host as he recalled tales passed down through his own family. He paused by an old china doll that had once belonged to a fairground worker's daughter and told how she had died in an accident and ever since, the doll had been rumoured to be haunted.
The rest of the exhibits were equally entertaining, a preserved two headed snake, the hand of a warlock under glass, withered and dried up and bony, which had been used by the fairs fortune teller as a means of protection against evil forces.
When the final exhibits had been seen, Drake led them out to the corridor that ought to go to the tea rooms, but the place was locked for the season and instead he indicated to the vending machine that stood against the wall.
“The cafe is shut for winter – sorry about that, but if you would like some refreshments there's hot tea and coffee from the machine. You can sit down out here and drink that if you wish, then follow the corridor to the end and you will find the souvenir shop which I'm just about to unlock, and that will conclude your visit. Did we all enjoy the tour?”
As people nodded and smiled, Drake smiled too.
“Good!” he said, “Please do recommend to friends and family and remember we are only open until Friday – after that we close until March 1st, 2018. We do take advanced bookings online for next year in parties of fifteen, twenty and fifty, prices vary but you will get a discount for paying online in advance. I will see you soon on the way out, please don't bring hot drinks to the souvenir shop, there's a bin over there in the corner for empty cups.”
He paused to turn back, locking the doors that led back to the exhibits, and then he looked to Cherry.
“Come with me, see the shop!”
They walked off together, passing the closed tea room and windows that let in rare streams of sunlight that had dared to break through the December cloud.
“You'll love
the shop,” he told her, “Its full of amazing stuff!”
She smiled.
“I'm sure it is,” she replied, feeling even warmer towards Drake. There was something endearing about his love for this place. Owen had been right, he certainly did live and breathe all things connected to the museum – but that was not a bad thing at all – he was passionate about his work and it certainly showed. It just made her like Drake even more. She barely knew him and she could feel herself falling for him already - and it wasn't something she wanted to fight...
The shop was small and filled with historical books on witchcraft, some were local tales, others worldwide. There were also books on tarot reading, several decks of tarot cards, incense, and of course, spell books on modern witchcraft. She watched as half the group paid out for several items – making the takings in the shop over one hundred pounds – the books seemed to sell better than anything else did, although further history of the museum pieces in a glossy brochure also went off the shelf quickly, purchased by almost every member of the group. Then as they gathered back by the main entrance, Drake thanked them for their time and said he hoped they would visit again.
As the last of the customers left, he closed the door behind then and turned back to Cherry.
“I think that went rather well. I have another lot stopping by at three – after that I'll close up for the day, people don't come over here much in winter after dark and this month is all about Christmas shopping in town.”
Then a clock on a shelf above the entrance chimed the hour with twelve melodic chines that echoed about the wide hall.
“Midday!”he announced, “That was good timing – it usually takes ninety minutes per tour. Now let me show you the rest of this place.”
She looked at him in surprise.
“There's more?”
He smiled.
“Yes there is – but nothing quite so mysterious as what we have down stairs! Follow me...”
Then he led her back down the corridor and past the office and towards a flight of stairs.
As she followed him up the stairway that led to a small upper hall, he indicated to doors that led off to several other rooms.
“This is the upstairs flat,” he told her, “I stay here sometimes when it gets busy but it's empty over the winter season – you can stay here for the whole three months if you want to. I'd prefer it if you did live in, we have a security guard called Glen, he watches the outside at night and he has a booth just inside around the back near the parking bay but he doesn't patrol the inside of the museum. There's one way in and out, the windows are locked and the place is secure. With the guard watching the back and front it's all the protection we need. But I would feel better about the place being left if someone stayed here – you don't have to stay every night, maybe three times a week?”
He opened up a door to a bedroom with pale walls and a comfortable looking bed, the room was furnished with fitted wardrobes and a soft carpet and the window overlooked the sea far below the cliff side as the pier stretched out in the distance.
“I think I could get used to it here,”she agreed.
Then he showed her the white tiled bathroom, the kitchen with its old wooden cupboards painted a shade of pale yellow, the floor was covered with red lino in a tile effect and it looked very old. But the modern cooker and fridge freezer and washing machine confirmed this kitchen was useable. Then he showed her a front room, it had a deep pile carpet and a gas fire and a TV and an old three piece suite. The wallpaper looked dated but she had seen the radiators and he had told her the heating was on a timer and would come on each day, not just up here but down in the museum too – this place was old and he had not decorated the upstairs flat since buying the place but everything worked and it was comfortable enough up here. There was a phone on the wall and he told her he had wifi installed on moving in, so she wouldn't be missing out on all that she had at home.
“It is nice up here,”he promised her, “I stay here every summer.”
As they stood together in the upstairs hallway she smiled.
“You don't have to convince me, I like it here!”
“Good. But if you do have any problems, here's my card,” he said, taking his card from his pocket and handing it to her, “Just call me – any time of the day or night, okay?”
She nodded.
“Thanks, Drake.”
He looked at her, she looked back at him, for a moment they said nothing as their eyes met, then Drake broke the silence.
“I forgot to ask – do you have any family at home, I mean a husband or kids? I could change your hours around if being away is awkward.”
“No, it's just me,”she replied, “What about you?”
As she asked that question she silently congratulated herself on getting that question in so easily – she had been wondering since they met if he was married or not...
“There's no one in my life right now,” he replied, “I've had a few relationships over the years but no one seemed to want to take on my commitment to this place.”
Then he paused, gathering his thoughts.
“Do you ever go to that fish and chip restaurant down by the pier?”
“I went there last summer, I loved it.”
“They're open all year. Would you like to meet me there on Friday night? We could have dinner. Just dinner, I mean, you know, just have dinner and talk and -”
“Yes,” she said, laughing softly as she watched his face start to flush, “I would love to, Drake!”
His eyes sparkled as he smiled.
“Great! I'll see you there about seven pm, is that a good time for you?”
“That's perfect,” she replied, “I'm looking forward to it!”
“Me too!” he said brightly.
Then as his phone rang he took it from his pocket, recognised the number and gave a heavy sigh.
“Sorry, I have to take this, it's work. See you Friday, Cherry.”
“I can find my own way out, see you soon,” she replied.
As he took the call and began speaking sternly to Owen, she buttoned her coat, wrapped her scarf about her throat and went back down the stairs, up the corridor and back through the main entrance, where she opened up the door and left the museum.
Now she was outside it was freezing cold and the wind coming off the icy sea was harsh and sharp but she was still smiling as she thought about Friday night:
She had a date with Drake. He was cute, he was interesting and she was already crazy about him. She had much to look forward to...
Chapter 2
“So your new boss – what's he like?”
As her best friend asked that question she was stood in the kitchen making coffee. She turned her head and her bobbed, curly brown hair bounced as she set her pale gaze playfully on Cherry, who was sat at the table with a smile on her face as she mentioned the museum for the third time that afternoon.
“He's tall and slim and good looking, sharp dresser, great eyes...and I'm having dinner with him on Friday night!”
The kettle boiled and Bess poured the water into the mugs as the aroma of coffee filled the air.
“This is your new boss, you're actually telling me that you're dating your boss? Do you think that's such a good idea?”
“Why not? You're always saying I should get out more, meet more people, try and find someone – he's perfect for me! There's no reason not to see him, Bess!”
She added milk and stirred the mugs then joined her at the table.
“But if it did go wrong it could be awkward, you working there and you and him not speaking -”
“It's dinner, he hasn't asked me to marry him!”
She cast her a knowing look.
“You seem crazy about him already.”
“I like him a lot.”
Cherry blew on the steam as she raised her coffee, hoping if Bess noticed the flush to her face she would blame the hot drink.
“And where will he be staying while you're at the flat u
pstairs in the museum?”
“His place? I don't know, Bess! I haven't spoken to him about that yet. I'll find out more on Friday.”
Bess sipped her coffee and paused for thought.
“Well, if it does go okay, he can come over to the museum while you're taking care of the place – you'll have the whole museum to yourselves!”
She spotted the playful look in her best friend's eyes and laughed.
“Please don't tell me what you're imagining!”
“You and him chasing each other naked round the exhibits!” Bess laughed.
Now she knew she was blushing. Cherry sat up straight, shaking her head as she tried not to laugh too.
“It's just dinner!”
“And I bet I won't see you again until late Saturday – or even Sunday!”
She gave in and laughed too, giving up on hiding her blush as she admitted the truth.
“I would love to spend the weekend with Drake,” Cherry said, “I really do like him, Bess. I haven't liked anyone as much as him for a very long time.”
“Maybe he's the one for you,” Bess replied hopefully.
Cherry smiled.
“That's what I want to find out,” she said.
As the skies darkened down to a stormy nightfall and lightening flickered in forks far off at sea, miles away in his grand house that overlooked the coast far from the busy promenade, Raine Zinck was having a restless night in his usually comfortable king size bed. As his dreams filled with shadows looming and the face of a demon emerged dark from a wall, jaws yawning wide and teeth long and razor sharp, a strange powder was dropped into liquid and the word MURDER spelled out in blood across the scene.
Lightning lit up the bedroom like a camera flash and illuminated the witches altar at the back of it and Raine sat upright in bed, breathless and sweating as he stared into the night. Thunder rolled overhead as the storm closed in and as the beside light was switched on he turned his head, looking into the eyes of Tatiana, she was slender and her raven hair tumbled to her waist. Her green eyes were certainly those of a witch and she too had sensed a strange omen.