by Sam Short
“Enough!”
The piercing shout from the head of the table made Alfred jump, and I did well not to spill my glass of water.
Aunt Eva put a theatrical hand over her chest. “Hilda!” she said. “You darn near gave me heart attack! Could you show some manners and let us know when you’re going to shout like that? What will Penelope think? You haven’t even said hello to her yet.”
“I’ve seen,” said Hilda, her eye rolling in its socket as she studied my face. “I’ve seen.”
“What have you seen?” said Mum, touching my arm briefly in what I assumed was an attempt to reassure me. “Have you seen another jumbled vision? Don’t you go filling my daughter’s head with your nonsense now, Hilda.”
Hilda lifted a trembling hand and pointed at me. “You hold the heart of a lawman!” she said, her voice quivering. “A tall lawman with hair like the very fires of hell. Tell me it’s so!”
“Let the girl eat, Hilda,” said Aunt Eva. “You can read her fortune later.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I want to know what she means. She’s talking about Barney.”
Aunt Eva shrugged, and Gideon bit into a chunk of ham.
I smiled at Hilda. “Yes,” I said. “It is so. Although his hair’s more like a ginger bird nest, than the very fires of hell.”
Hilda’s finger remained where it was, pointing at my face. She spoke slowly. “The lawman will be gone from your life. Taken from you by malevolent forces while he’s still young and virile! Such a shame, but it will be so! It will be so! I have seen and I have spoken!” Her eye widened, and she lowered her arm. She pointed to the small yellow dish in front of me. “Pass me the olives would you? I like the black ones.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Hilda!” said Aunt Eva. “You can’t just tell Penelope that the man she’s involved with is going to die, and then ask for the olives. Have some etiquette would you — at least tell her how he’s going to die. I don’t know — you seers, you’re all about you.”
I understood what George and Herman had meant when they’d said that Granny and Aunt Eva were as bad as each other. Neither of the sisters had an ounce of tact.
Mum put a hand on my shoulder and Gideon put his hand over mine. “What do you mean, Hilda?” I said, aware of the shaking in my voice and the cold finger that touched my spine. “What’s going to happen to Barney?”
Impatient of waiting for me to pass her the olives, Hilda popped a sun dried tomato in her mouth and took a sip of water. She chewed as she looked at me thoughtfully. “I did not say he was going to die.” She looked at the elderly man to her left. “Did I, Alfred? You’ve got your head screwed on right and your ears clear of wax — did I once say that anyone was going to die?”
Alfred buttered a piece of crusty bread. “You did imply it, Hilda. We’ve warned you about it in the past, and you keep promising that you’re not doing it for theatrical effect, but I have to admit, Hilda… I really think you take pleasure from scaring people.”
Gideon, Mum, and Aunt Eva mumbled their agreement.
“Tish-tosh!” snapped Hilda. “I say it as it comes to me. I see, you see? My visions must be delivered to their rightful owners, and the last one was for Penelope. I make no apologies for my style of delivery.” She lifted her eye patch and gazed around the table with both eyes. “Where’s the soft cheese? I don’t see it.”
Aunt Eva saw me staring at Hilda. “It’s a style statement,” she said, shrugging. “Those stones she’s used to decorate it with aren’t real diamonds either — they’re as fake as most of her prophecies, I wouldn’t take any notice of what she says.”
I moved my stare from Hilda to Aunt Eva. “I wasn’t looking at her because she’s wearing an eyepatch she doesn’t need,” I said. “I’m staring at her because I want to know what she means about Barney! For goddess’s sake — will someone please tell me what she means about Barney?” A warm tear spilled onto my cheek, and I looked at Hilda again. “Please,” I said. “What did you mean, Hilda? I have to know. I feel sick.”
“Honey baked ham?” said aunt Eva, pushing a plate of sliced meat over the table at me. “It goes wonderfully well on the rye bread, and it’ll take the sickness away. The ham itself comes from a part of the haven where they really know how to breed good meat, and the honey’s from a delightful woman who lives not a mile from here. Her bees are as fat and healthy as a chubby baby.”
My eye twitched. “I do not want fat baby bee honey ham. I do not want to hear one more word from anyone, unless it’s to tell me what the heck is going to happen to Barney! Hilda, I’ll ask you one more time — what did you see?”
Hilda swallowed what was in her mouth, replaced her eyepatch, and sat back in her chair. Gideon and Alfred pretended to be more interested in the food which was on their plates, than the tension which was rising with each second that Hilda kept the information she had about about Barney from me.
I fixed Hilda with a stare which I imagined resembled Granny’s sternest scowl. “Go on.”
Hilda cleared her throat. “The lawman isn’t going to die. Not yet anyway, but I can see with hindsight how you may have misconstrued the meaning of what I said. But that’s on you, not me. I can’t help what images you attach to the simple words I speak.”
“Hilda,” warned Mum. “Tell the girl. I want to know too, I’ve got quite the soft spot for Barney now I know he’s not Scottish.”
Hilda spoke slowly. “He will be taken away from you by the people who tell him what to do — his superiors. If he doesn’t solve the terrible crime he’s investigating — a murder, I see. The fiery haired lawman will be sent to a distant land, far from you and your love for him.” She popped an olive into her mouth from the bowl I slid towards her. “A green and pleasant land with mountains which touch the sky and people who speak in riddles.”
“What are you talking about?” said Mum. “What land? Barney lives in England, not a fantasy novel setting.”
Hilda furrowed her frown and concentrated. “The land is known as Wales, and it will be the new home of the lawman if he doesn’t complete his quest. He hides this knowledge from you.”
“Barney will move to Wales if he doesn’t solve the murder he’s investigating?” I said. “Because his superiors will tell him to, and he knows about this, but has kept it secret from me? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
Hilda nodded. “That’s about the crux of it, I suppose. The messages come in pictures and I do my best to translate them into words you will understand.”
Aunt Eva slid another plate across the table. “Hard boiled egg, Penny? They go very well with the spicy chorizo dip.”
I took one out of politeness not hunger, and thanked Gideon as he passed me a fork. Alfred reached for the ham, and Hilda gave me a wry smile.
“I don’t understand why Barney will have to leave if he doesn’t solve a crime,” I said, looking at Hilda. “That makes no sense.”
“I can only tell you what I see,” said Hilda between chews.
“Can you help Barney solve the murder?” I asked. “Can you see anything which will make his job easier?”
Hilda shook her head. “I can’t see the past, only the present and the future. The past is a wall of impenetrable fog, which no seer can penetrate.”
“Can you tell me anything that will help?” I said. “Please try.”
Hilda stared at me for a few moments. “Give me your hand, witch.”
Gideon sat back in his seat as I offered Hilda my hand, which she took in hers. Her fingers closed on me with more strength than her thin body suggested she’d possess, and a faint electric current seemed to pass between us as she closed her eye and concentrated.
Hilda’s eye opened suddenly, and she squeezed my hand. “You seek a man!” she said. “A man who makes men of straw!”
“Yes! A scarecrow man! Can you tell me who it is?” I urged. “Can you tell me his name? What is the name of the man who makes scarecrows?”
Hilda mumbled
incoherently and dipped her chin. “I can’t see. The image is murky, but — wait!”
“Yes?”
“I see a horned man with cloven feet who can help you!” said Hilda. She stared at me with a nervous eye. “Who are you that the lord of darkness himself would help you? Who are you that he who has many names would help you? Who are you that Beelzebub himself, master of demons and lover of fire would speak to you with news of the scarecrow man?” I gasped as Hilda snatched her hand from mine. Her voice trembled and she took a deep breath. “Who are you, friend of the cloven footed bringer of doom?”
I sighed. “Erm… could it be a man who’s been turned into a goat you’re talking about?” I said.
Hilda tilted her head as she considered. She nodded sagely. “That makes so much sense,” she said. “That would explain why the devil in my vision was white and didn’t have a thrice pronged fork. Does this goat man have a grin of teeth most yellow?”
I nodded. “They are very yellow, yes.”
“Then you must ask the goat man what he knows. He harbours information, and what he knows will guide the lawman to the man he so urgently seeks.”
“Boris — the goat man, knows who the scarecrow man is?” I said.
“Harfa bell!” yelled Hilda, startling the birds from the trees. “Ask him of harfa bell!”
“Half a bell?” said Gideon. “Is that what you’re saying, Hilda?”
Hilda shrugged. “Harfa bell — half a bell. I can’t be sure which. Penelope must ask the goat man, and he will reveal his knowledge.” Hilda reached over the table. “Give me your hand one more time, young witch.”
I did as she asked, and Hilda concentrated as she squeezed my fingers. She muttered something under her breath and released her grip on me. “You’re more than you think you are, Penelope Weaver,” she announced. “The goddess has seen fit to bestow upon you a gift which will reveal itself to you when the time is right.”
“Gift?” said Mum, spooning cream onto the big dollop of jam which crowned the scone on her plate. “What gift, Hilda? Penelope’s never show any signs of been gifted.”
“Thank you,” I breathed. “It’s lovely to know my mother thinks I’m not gifted.”
“You know what I mean,” said Mum. “Don’t be so tetchy, young lady. Hilda’s told you that Barney’s going to be okay. Bring it down a notch or two would you?”
“Hilda’s told me that Barney knows he may have to leave Wickford, and he’s hidden it from me while at the same time beginning a relationship with me. I think I can afford to be a little tetchy, Mother.”
Mum snorted. “That’s men for you. Always keeping important secrets to themselves. Get used to it, or stay single — that’s my advice.”
Birds had begun returning to the trees since Hilda had stopped yelling, and Aunt Eva tossed a piece of bread to a brave one which flew to the ground and pecked around for scraps of food near the table. “That’s enough arguing for today,” she said, looking between me, Mum, and Hilda. “Penelope — I’m sure things will work out with this Barney gentleman you’ve met. Maggie — your daughter is bound to be upset by her boyfriend keeping secrets form her, and Hilda — what gift does Penny possess? Please tell me it’s the gift of alchemy.”
“It’s a gift far greater than that of alchemy,” said Hilda, with a sparkle in her eye. “She is a witch of the highest calibre, a witch born to lead, a witch who will touch people’s lives in positive ways and who will be held up as an example of greatness in every land she steps foot in. She is a force to be reckoned with.”
“Oh, no,” said Mum. “She’s a bloody seer isn’t she? That’s all I need — a prophet in the family. I’ve got enough problems with my mother, without adding a jumped up fortune teller to the mix.”
Hilda took my hand again. “You are indeed a seer, Penelope. The gift will make itself shown when you need it most. Use it wisely and do no ill with it, for it is a gift of great power, to be sure.”
Mum tutted. “Great power. More like trouble with a capital t.”
“I’m a seer?” I said. “I’ll be able to see into the future?”
Hilda nodded. “Indeed, Penelope Weaver. You will.”
A cherry tomato bounced off my nose and Alfred laughed. “You didn’t see that coming, did you?” he chortled. “You can’t see very far into the future at all.”
“She will, Alfred,” said Hilda, arming herself with an olive which she tossed in the cheerful man’s direction. “Just give the gift time to make itself shown.”
Alfred’s cheeky smile and mischievous demeanour broke the tension which was building, and after a few barrages of olives and tomatoes from everyone around the table, including Mum who even managed a full belly laugh as an olive she threw bounced off Gideon’s forehead, we all settled down again.
“I don’t mean to be rude,” I said, “I know you made this meal to welcome me, Aunt Eva, but I really think I should get home now. I need to speak to Barney.”
“And ask the goat man for his information,” added Hilda.
Aunt Eva stood up. “Make sure to come back soon, Penelope. It was lovely seeing you, and remember to take some food back with you. I’ll plate some cakes and scones for you. Willow will enjoy them.”
“Not this time,” said Mum. “I don’t like the idea of carrying plates back up the hill to the portal arches.”
“You’re not going to make the poor girl use the arches are you?” said Hilda. “I told you, she’s a talented witch. She’ll be able to use a doorway in Eva’s cottage. She’s more than capable. I’ve seen it.”
“Use a doorway in Aunt Eva’s cottage?” I said, turning to Mum. “You told me I had to use one of the arches we arrived through.”
“That’s what they tell newcomers,” said Gideon. “It’s safer to use an arch they say, but I wouldn’t know. I’ve never left the haven since the day I arrived, this place is much nicer than the world I left behind. A little more mad at times, but nicer.”
“Penny can’t use a doorway in the cottage,” said Mum. “I won’t let her risk it. She’s not experienced enough. She could end up anywhere.”
“Give the girl a chance,” said Alfred. “She seems as bright as a button to me. I’m sure she’ll manage it without a problem.”
“Yes,” I said. “Give me a chance. It can’t be that hard.”
Aunt Eva smiled. “It’s not hard, sweetheart, come on inside with me, and I’ll explain how to do it.”
“Be it on your head, Eva,” said Mum. “If she ends up in Australia, you can pay for her airfare home.”
“It won’t come to that,” said Aunt Eva, leading the way back through the orchard. “And if she does end up in Australia she can open another portal which will bring her back here.”
Hilda, Gideon, and Alfred followed us into the cottage, and we all stood in the kitchen together as Aunt Eva explained how to open a portal in Mum’s kitchen back home. “You need to picture the room you want the portal to open in,” she said, “really focus on it. Smell the familiar smells and picture the colour of the walls, and when you’re ready, cast your spell. The portal that opens here will take you straight home, and if it doesn’t, just open one wherever you end up and step back through, you’ll find yourself in one of the arches at the top of the hill. There’s nothing to worry about, your mother’s over concerned.”
Mum sighed. “I’m not over concerned, Eva, just concerned.” She put her hand on my shoulder as I stood in front of Aunt Eva’s kitchen doorway, holding a tray of goodies and ready to open my portal. “Penelope, I try and focus on three permanently placed things in the kitchen, it really helps to stabilise the spell. I use the Lionel Richie clock above the door, the magnet on the fridge which your grandmother brought back from Cuba, and the aga stove. Can you see those things clearly in your mind?”
Lionel Richie was Mums’s favourite singer and one time crush. It was no problem to envision the Lionel Richie clock. The singer’s cheesy grin and perfect hair had haunted me since I was old enough
to tell the time. The internal mechanics had stopped working long ago, but Mum kept the clock hands showing the time as half past six, so they didn’t interfere with Lionel’s good looks.
The aga stove was similarly easy to picture, and the fridge magnet depicting Fidel Castro beneath a halo was an easily remembered bone of contention in the household, but an item which Granny insisted stayed where it was under threat of a curse on the person who dared to remove it.
Granny had given up on her plans to move to Cuba one day, and when her cat, Che Guevara had died, she’d finally agreed to discontinue her habit of wearing an ill-fitting beret whenever she attended protests.
I pictured the three items in my mind and looked at Mum. “I’m ready,” I said.
Aunt Eva kissed me on the cheek, and Hilda, Gideon, and Alfred said their goodbyes as I cast my spell and the doorway flooded with shimmering gold.
With a final warning from Mum to be sure to open another portal immediately if I didn’t end up in her kitchen, I stepped through the doorway, this time with my eyes open.
I stepped out of the other side with far more dignity and balance than when I’d taken my first portal journey, and for the first time in my life was happy to see Lionel Richie gazing down at me. Nobody was waiting for me in the kitchen, and I shut my portal.
No sooner had I closed mine than Mum’s opened in the same doorway, and she stepped through with a look of relief on her face when she saw I was safe.
“I knew you could do it,” she said, placing the tray she’d brought with her on the table. “I had every confidence in you.”
“That’s so good to hear,” I said, hoping the sarcasm was evident in my voice. “It’s lovely to know that your mother has confidence in you.”
I placed the tray I’d brought with me next to Mum’s and saw the note on the table.
Penny — Barney’s been called into work — forensics have found something interesting on Gerald Timkins’s shotgun. Me and Susie have gone back to the boat. I had a phone call from the delivery man — my new bed’s arrived — so me and Susie are going to move it aboard.