The Return of the Witch

by Paula Brackston

  “You sit here, Lottie, where there is plenty of light from the window, and I can take a look.”

  She did as she was told, sufficiently relaxed in my presence to enjoy the attention now. The infection in her eye had clearly been there for some time. Such a severe case of conjunctivitis could not only be painful, but it might result in permanent damage and possible loss of sight.

  “How long has it been like this?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Dunno, missus. It comes and goes.”

  “And does your mother bathe it for you?”

  “Oh, yes. I have a special cloth and no one else gets to use it. Mum keeps it just for my eye.”

  “That’s nice,” I said, inwardly wincing at the thought of the germs being lovingly reapplied to the eye every time the precious piece of cloth was used to wash it. If I had been back at Willow Cottage in the twenty-first century I could have sourced antibiotics and cleared the infection in a matter of days. Had I access to my mother’s seventeenth-century pharmacopeia I could have made a paste of eyebright and chamomile, and careful bathing—never using the same cloth twice—might well have effected a cure. In the time and place in which I found myself it would have been possible to find a doctor, or a pharmacy, but I was concerned that this might be the only chance I got to help Lottie. There was no guarantee she would return, nor that she would agree to accompany me to a doctor’s surgery. Whatever I had to do, now was the time to do it. I switched on the gas and struck a match before setting the kettle over the heat.

  “What are you going to do?” the girl asked, anxiety in her voice.

  “I’m going to boil some water and put it in a dish to cool, because boiled water is the very best thing for washing a sore eye. And while it is cooling, you and I will have a cup of tea and a piece of Mrs. Timms’s excellent shortbread. What do you say to that?”

  Lottie revealed herself to be a natural talker. She chatted on about her family—a mother who took in laundry, a father who worked at a tannery in Chalk Farm, and three older sisters. Lottie was actually nearly ten, and the only one in her family who still attended school.

  “I go three mornings a week,” she told me proudly. “Rest of the time I work down the tunnels. But it was too pretty to be underground today, so we bunked off and came to the park. Might get in trouble for it, old Mr. Antrobus is a sourpuss and no mistake. My dad says he’s a man as could see a cloud in every silver lining. I don’t know what he means, but it makes me laugh!” She grinned gappily as she chomped her way through a second biscuit.

  “What tunnels are those, Lottie?”

  “Them that go from the canal to the train station.” When I looked puzzled, she went on. “We help load and unload the wagons, see? Coal and stuff comes down the canal, then it gets shifted onto wagons, and we lead the ponies through the tunnels ’til we get to King’s Cross, and then it’s put on the trains. Goes all over the country, things we move about. Out to big houses, factories, all sorts of places. Some of it even goes to the seaside. You ever been to the seaside, Missus?”

  “Yes, I have. It’s very nice.”

  “Oh, I’d love to go!”

  “And perhaps you will one day. Now, sit still and just tip your head back a little for me. That’s very good.”

  Using the cooled and slightly salted water I gently bathed Lottie’s eye. In truth, I knew however soothing such a treatment would be, it could not cure the infection. Something a little stronger was needed. A little drop of magic. While I might not be able to effect a miracle cure of a serious disease, and I would certainly have preferred to have one of my mother’s recipes to help, I was confident I could work a healing charm. I placed my hand lightly over Lottie’s eye and whispered a blessing, calling on the Goddess of the earth, with her nurturing power, to cleanse the child of her disease. I felt a special stillness settle about us. Even Lottie fell quiet for a moment. My palm grew hot, and I knew the girl’s eye would be sensitive to that heat, but that it would not be painful or unpleasant. A moment later and it was done. I put away the dish.

  “There you are, Lottie.”

  “Is that it, missus?”

  “No need to trouble your mother with bathing it today,” I told her.

  The child grinned. “Feels better already, it does!”

  I saw her to the door and watched her bound out to join her friends. It was cheering to have been able to perform such a simple act of healing. To remind myself that there was always work to be done in the world, that there would always be those whom I could help.

  I was on the point of returning to Erasmus when the sight of a young woman on the far side of the street caused me to utter a cry of surprise. She was dressed very differently from when I had last seen her, and she was alone, which in itself was unusual, but I was certain I was looking at one of Gideon’s loathsome twins. She was clearly watching the shop. She must have been sent to look for me, which meant Gideon was near, and knew that I had not perished in Batchcombe. That he was sufficiently concerned to send one of his minions to spy on me was strangely heartening, though I worried that we had lost any edge the element of surprise might have given us. As I stared out at her, the twin saw me, and saw that I had seen her. She turned on her heel and hurried down the street. I tore after her. There was an unhelpful number of people in my way, and I had to blunder through them, barging and pushing, eliciting several oaths and curses from bruised strangers as I went. I must not lose her! The girl was remarkably swift on her feet, while I struggled to run in my heavy skirts. The gap between us was widening, and I feared that in a moment she would be gone.

  “Stop her!” I shouted, pointing at the twin as I ran on. “Stop that girl.” Nobody took any notice, save to step out of the way. “Stop, thief!” I tried. “Stop that thief!”

  The effect was astonishing. Now everyone seemed ready to assist me. The baker lumbered from his doorway and grabbed at the twin, but she danced beyond his reach. Two young men tried to bar her path, but she darted around them. At last an elderly shoe-black stuck out his foot and sent her crashing to the cobbles. By the time I reached her, two passersby had hauled her to her feet. People worked hard to keep starvation at bay, they held what little they might have close to them against illness and hunger, they looked to no one else to support them; thieves took for themselves what others had slaved for. The upper classes despised them for daring to clutch at what they did not deserve, and the poor despised them for taking what they themselves could not afford to lose. The girl was held tight.

  “I am no thief!” she declared, all but spitting in her indignation, her face contorted with fury at me. However, she was clever enough to realize that such a disposition would not help her case. In an instant she changed, pretending to faint into the arms of one of the men who held her. She sobbed pitifully and prettily. “Oh!” she cried, “I have done nothing and yet this woman sees me chased through the streets.”

  The baker had joined the gathering. “If you’ve done nothing, why did you run?”

  A woman in an elaborate hat put in, “A person with nothing to hide has no need to run.”

  “I was terrified!” the twin explained. “This woman is disturbed. I think her unhinged. She muttered strange words at me as I passed by; she mumbled curious phrases that made no sense. When she began to chase me I feared for my safety. I am but a girl alone…”

  “If she’s a thief,” the baker wanted to know, “what did she steal?”

  I tried desperately to think of something of value the twin might have on her. I could see no necklace or rings, and could not rely upon her having any money.

  “My silver pin,” I said. “The one I was wearing on my collar. She snatched it from me and ran off with it.”

  “So where is it now?” asked the woman in the hat.

  “I have no pin,” the girl insisted. “My hands and pockets are empty, do you see?” She pulled out the linings of her skirt pockets and held her palms uppermost to the onlookers. “I am innocent of this cruel accusation.”
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  “She must have thrown it down,” I suggested, knowing that they could not find something that did not exist, “when she thought she would be caught. I insist I should accompany her to her home, to speak to her parent, or her guardian. There must be someone who can answer for this.” I hoped against hope that this would be seen as a reasonable course of action and the twin would be forced to lead me to her master.

  “I swear I am innocent,” she repeated tearfully, “and this stranger is the guilty party, for she is trying to trick you all. Who knows her purpose—what manner of person would chant foreign words at a hapless girl? Is anyone here acquainted with this woman?”

  Gideon had chosen his little helpers wisely. This one was sharp-witted enough to know that, of course, I would be a stranger to everyone, and that I would have trouble explaining my sudden appearance in the area. Subtle changes began to spread through the small crowd. The man holding the twin now appeared to be supporting rather than restraining her. People shuffled a little farther away from me, a little closer to the convincingly distressed younger woman, who had now been handed a handkerchief with which to dry her tears. I felt my hold on the situation slipping through my fingers. I summoned a spell to weaken her, to confuse and distract her. Her expression altered immediately. She was aware of my attempts and sought to resist them. I increased the intensity of the spell, adding a sting to it that made her yelp. I had hoped that I could goad her into revealing her true nature. If she began to snarl and spit at me, to lash out with her own toxic strength, well, we would see how the good people of Primrose Hill regarded her then.

  Unfortunately, she was more resistant than I had anticipated. It was quite possible that even when remote from him she had something of Gideon’s protection. One way or another she was able to withstand my spell without giving herself away.

  “Let the girl go,” said someone in the crowd.

  “You must have been mistaken, madam.” The woman in the large hat spoke kindly but firmly. “Perhaps you dropped your pin earlier and did not miss it until just now.”

  “A fuss over nothing,” the baker decided, heading back to his shop.

  People began to drift away. The twin pressed home her advantage.

  “Please,” she clung to the better looking of the two men beside her, “do me the kindness of escorting me home. I confess I am uneasy to be left alone.” Here she stared at me pointedly. The young man puffed out his chest.

  “Of course,” he said, offering her his arm as if they were about to promenade through the park. “Good day to you, madam,” he dismissed me, and strode away with his vile prize.

  With so many watching, and her new protector ready to drive me off, there was no way I could follow her. But how could I let her go? As they reached the corner of the street and were about to turn out of view I stepped forward. A hand on my shoulder stopped me in my stride.

  “No, Elizabeth.” Erasmus shook his head. “Let her go.”

  “But, I cannot! She will lead us to Tegan.”

  “You are not so foolish as to believe that. We at least know now that Gideon and his followers are not far from here. Be content with that.”

  “But…”

  Seeing my desperation he took my face in his hands and looked deep into my eyes. “That creature would die before she led you to him, for if she betrayed him he would kill her anyway. This is not the way, Elizabeth, trust me,” he said, and then he slipped his arm around my waist and took me back to his house.

  21

  I hated being on my own in that dark, cold place, but it was worse when the twins were with me. They didn’t want to be in there either, and they took their bad temper out on me, goading me, taunting me, sometimes pinching or slapping me. Lucrecia was far and away the worst, with Florencia copying everything she did. I wasn’t sure the younger sister would have treated me so badly if she’d been on her own, but they always came to my cell together. Once or twice they used their own slimy magic to torment me, wrapping their snakelike hair around my throat and squeezing, just for the fun of watching me suffer. I tried to fight them off, of course, but I was at a disadvantage. Although I wasn’t under the same heavy type of enchantment Gideon had used on me in Batchcombe, my magic was still horribly suppressed. And my grimy little prison didn’t help. There was something about being in the dark, being underground, like being buried alive. What if one day the twins didn’t come back with my ration of food and water? What if Gideon lost interest, or one of the many people who must have hated him caught up with him? I could just be left there to rot.

  It was hard to tell day from night, as there was not a glimmer of natural light in the place. My best indication that it was daytime was when the sisters turned up with what they insisted was my breakfast.

  “Look what treats we’ve brought you today,” said Lucrecia on what must have been the fourth time they came. She put down her basket and unwrapped a loaf of bread. For once it wasn’t stale and old, but smelled fantastic, as if it had just been baked. “Really,” she said, “I think you are being spoiled. And look, there is cheese, too. And some ale. It’s not right that we should have to run around to fetch things for you, and then be shut up in here when it is so lovely and sunny outside.”

  My mouth was watering, but I knew I couldn’t take it off her. She would make me wait. Florencia was quieter than usual, and as she stepped into the reach of the lamplight I saw that she was sporting a vivid purple bruise on her cheek and a swollen, blackened eye. Clearly she had done something to upset her lord and master. I wondered what. I also wondered how far her loyalty to him would stretch. Once you start whipping a dog it’s only a matter of time before it tries to bite you.

  “That looks nasty,” I said. “Walk into a door, did you?”

  She didn’t reply.

  “You should look after your sister,” I told Lucrecia. “I bet you’re the youngest, aren’t you, Florencia? The youngest always gets the blame for everything.” She looked at me, still wary, but I could see a glimmer of interest.

  Her sister tutted. “It was her own fault,” she insisted. “She was sent to do something and she didn’t do it well. Not at all well. In fact, she got herself into a great deal of trouble. I should have gone myself. I said so.” She gave an irritated little sniff.

  Florencia put her hand to her cheek. “I did my best. I wasn’t to know what would happen. How could I?”

  “You weren’t supposed to be seen! You might have been followed. We might have been discovered. Then you would have been in real trouble.”

  I folded my arms. “Sounds to me like you would have quite enjoyed that, Lucrecia. Have you always been jealous of your sister? I could understand it if you were, I mean, her hair is a bit longer than yours, and thicker. And shinier, too, I think.”

  The girl scowled at me. With calculated slowness she lifted the loaf and the cheese up and then dropped them onto the filthy floor. “Oh, dear!” she said sweetly. “Look what I’ve done—silly little me.”

  I had to clench my fists and dig my nails into my palms to stop myself from lunging at her. “It must be hard for both of you,” I said levelly, “competing for Gideon’s attention. Who does he like more, d’you think?”

  Lucrecia couldn’t resist. “He would never have struck me!” she said.

  Florencia rounded on her. “He wouldn’t have been so angry with me if you had kept quiet!”

  “He needed to know how foolish you had been. You could have led her to us.”

  “I would not have let that happen. I did what he asked. I found her, I found out where it is she is staying. That’s what I was supposed to do.”

  Who were they talking about? Could it be Elizabeth? Could she really have managed to follow us? To come to the right time, the right place … I hardly dared hope. I had to know. I had to be sure.

  “Who did he send you after this time? Another one of his old girlfriends, I expect. He’s got so many of them.”

  “He and Elizabeth were never lovers!” It was Lucrecia w
ho blurted out her name. The second she realized what she had done she screamed in fury and stamped on my food, grinding the bread and cheese into the cobbled floor with the heel of her shoe. “You think you’re so clever, but you’re not! You are the one locked up in here, and we are free to come and go as we please. Remember that when you are hungry and thirsty hours from now and perhaps you will behave in a more fitting manner toward us next time!” With that, she snatched up the jar of beer and grabbed her sister by the wrist. “Come along, Florencia. Let’s leave her to improve her manners.”

  As they went Florencia glanced backward and, even in the patchy light, I could see she looked guilty, or sad, or possibly just sorry. It was only a tiny flash of humanity, but it was something to work on. After they had gone I salvaged what I could of the food, but without anything to drink I didn’t feel like eating it. I should have been desperate, but the thought that Elizabeth was near, and that she had spotted one of the twins, gave me such hope. If only I could reach out to her … But I had tried so hard. One way or another, my magic was blocked. I was blocked. Brick by bloody brick.

  Aloysius was trotting among the crumbs on the floor, finding several choice pieces of bread. I watched him nibble. An idea struck me, and immediately I started up an argument with myself in my head. Too risky! Worth a try! Can’t work. But what if it did?

  I knelt next to the mouse and reached out a hand. He finished feasting and hopped aboard. I brought him up close so I could look him in his bright, clear eyes.

  “We have got to get out of here, we both know that,” I told him. “Thing is, I’m stuck, but there is a way for you to escape, my dear little friend.” I took him over to the far corner of the room. By going on tiptoe and stretching my hand up, I was just able to place him on the narrow ledge that ran along beneath the air vents. These were simply missing bricks, and for them to work, there had to be a space going all the way up to fresh air. To the surface. I blew him a kiss and sent him whatever magic protection and strength I could summon.