The Christmas Witch

by Carla Caruso

  ‘What have you got there?’ Sutton sidled up behind her. ‘Oh, a witch doll. How cool.’

  ‘Yeah, ha,’ Mina squeaked back.

  From Sutton’s expression, it certainly looked like she hadn’t seen the doll before, which left their temporary boss as a culprit.

  ‘D-do you think Jadon left it out?’ Mina pressed. ‘I assume he’s around someplace?’

  ‘Last I checked he was out the back.’ Sutton shrugged. ‘Guess it must be his find. Though, I never pegged him for a doll man, lol.’ She grabbed the toy, pushing it through the air so it looked like it was flying. ‘Aw, I want her. She looks so gnarled and crotchety in her tattered little clothes.’

  ‘I think she looks kind of sweet,’ Mina couldn’t help saying defensively. ‘Grandmotherly. Something about her … eyes.’

  ‘Ha, well, I’d kill to have a grisly old witch for a grandma. Then she could magic me up a bundle of cash and I could quit working forever, candle-making and all.’

  If only that was how things really worked for ‘red’ witches.

  ‘On the topic of all things wannabe Wiccan …’ Mina coughed. ‘I hope my, uh, cousin, Huxley, didn’t keep bothering you the other night.’

  ‘Huxley?’ Sutton rested the doll back on the counter, smoothing its knitted scarf. ‘Oh, he was fine. Harmless. You’re family, so you’re always going to be more critical of one another.’

  Mina gritted her teeth, fighting the urge to yell back that Huxley was the very opposite of fine. That Sutton should stay the hell away from him. But then Jadon swung his way out of the backroom, looking ready-to-eat in a fitted indigo shirt, and the doll was front and centre of her mind again. Jadon may well think she was best avoided too.

  As he sidled over, he looked weirdly calm, though … unless that was all an act. ‘Morning.’ Grinning, he gestured at the doll. ‘Thought you might be a fan of that.’

  Mina forced a return smile, her heart going like the clappers. ‘You … did? Why?’

  A funny look flittered across his face. ‘I imagine you’ve heard the stories about La Befana, being of Italian background. The dolls are everywhere in Italy at Christmastime. For some reason, I found one lurking in Dad’s cupboard. Thought we could add it to the shop’s festive decorations.’

  ‘Oh, La Befana, of course!’ Mina enthused, relief gushing through her. Yes, she was overacting. At least Jadon hadn’t planted the doll there just to expose her. ‘That’s a great idea.’

  Sutton let out a little sigh. ‘I know we say it every year, but it blows my mind how quickly Christmas creeps up. Soon it’ll be time to shut the shop doors for a few weeks.’

  Indeed … a few weeks without Jadon.

  Mina wondered whether he’d even be back after the festive break or if he’d jet back to Milan for good, leaving things in Mr Eder’s hands again. Of course, that would be good news for her old boss and his health. She had to focus on the positives.

  The click of heels on the floorboards signalled the arrival of their first customer. Sutton went to grab the cardboard box she’d discarded, greeting the woman along the way.

  Mina, meanwhile, felt Jadon’s gaze on her as she fiddled with the La Befana doll. How high up could she put the toy, so its beady eyes weren’t following her, without it raising suspicions?

  Jadon cleared his throat. ‘There was something I wanted to ask you.’

  Mina’s stomach dipped. Shoot. Had he been tricking her before? Was he now going to deliver a killer line about the doll, and its real link to her, while she was alone?

  ‘Yes?’ she managed, daring to look up. His eyes were a particularly freakish green that morning.

  ‘Are you busy Wednesday night?’

  Butterflies started doing loops of her stomach. ‘Um … no.’

  Well, she hadn’t seen that coming.

  Jadon nodded. ‘Cool. I’ve been invited to an event at the city art gallery that night. An old mate of Dad’s is a member of the foundation. As a long-serving employee, I thought you might like to attend too and take in the creative inspiration. You could clock on later the next day to make up for the overtime. Though, no obligation, of course.’

  It was, appropriately, a work date. He couldn’t have underlined it more. Still, this didn’t stop her from feeling like she was floating around on a marshmallowy cloud. He couldn’t find her company totally unbearable.

  She flashed him a beam. ‘Guess I could put off watering my plants just one night.’

  He returned the smile, making her insides all squidgy. ‘Great. I’ll pick you up around seven then. The dress code’s cocktail.’

  She could handle pulling on a frock and heels again on this occasion.

  Everything else that day at the store felt easy-breezy, following his surprise invitation, from dealing with pedantic customers to dusting the collectables. Even catching sight of Gardenia through the window, as she moved stock late afternoon, couldn’t take the wind out of Mina’s sails.

  Alone for a moment, she watched Gardenia waltz over to some blond guy outside her office. Unfortunately, Mina only had a back view of him as Gardenia leant in for a cheek peck. Interesting. Maybe the dark witch had even got over her crush on Jadon already.

  She could only hope … for Jadon’s sake, of course.

  Gardenia ushered the mystery man into her office and Mina scrutinised his side-profile through the plantation shutters. Her mouth fell open, the air hissing out of her lungs.

  Sheesh. How had it taken her so long to work out? The jaw-scraping blond do, the stubble, the muscular physique … obviously, her mind had just been clouded by errant thoughts about Jadon.

  It was her ex, Arlo!

  Why the hell was he meeting up with Gardenia? Doing business with the dark witch? He hadn’t visited the street for an eternity, ever since he and Mina had split … unless he was in the market for a bigger love nest for him and his perfect famiglia. Maybe they were even planning to expand their clan, Arlo taking real strides in life rather than just living off fantasies like her. A sob caught in her throat and her good mood was pricked like a balloon. She ducked out of sight once more.

  Chapter 13

  Arlo was the furthest thing from Mina’s mind as she stood alongside Jadon at the art gallery event. He looked like a living Ken doll in a black suit and tie, pink and blue lights washing over him. She’d opted for a green sequinned shift dress herself and a chain-strap bag.

  The gallery’s backroom was going off like a frog in a sock … or maybe a toad. The waitstaff had their work cut out for them, weaving through the hordes with trays of canapes and fizzy champagne. A DJ spun dance tracks loud enough to rattle all the antique sculptures.

  The Summer Nights event was, apparently, intended to attract a different sort of clientele to the latest exhibitions—namely, young professionals, keen to network. So far, though, she’d just spent the past half hour with Jadon, talking shop and stuffing her face. It might have been the lubricant of alcohol but conversation between them had begun to feel effortless.

  After they’d both inhaled some sushi canapes, he glanced her way. ‘Want to go for a wander around the gallery?’

  ‘Sure thing.’ And as they cut through the crowd, she allowed herself, for a moment, to imagine how enviable a couple they might look to an outsider.

  The first gallery room they entered was devoted to Australian colonial paintings. In the centre was a marble Cupid statue, its arrow poised in the air. A few other champagne-toting eventgoers were checking out the artworks too.

  Mina mock-pulled a face at Jadon. ‘Oh, no, more old stuff … your favourite.’

  ‘I like a mix of old and new,’ he rebutted. ‘Though, I do think hanging onto old gear can keep some people stuck in the past. Like my father, for instance.’ He twisted his mouth. ‘Dad hasn’t changed the décor at home since my mother left.’

  ‘Oh.’ Mina stared up at a painting of cattle lying under trees. ‘Do you mind me asking what happened with your parents? It’s just I get the feeling Mr Eder
never found love again. Which is a shame, because he’s such a lovely man.’

  Jadon rubbed his neck. ‘It’s kind of a long story.’

  Mina shrugged, trying to look encouraging. ‘I haven’t got anywhere else to be.’

  Nor anywhere else she wanted to be.

  ‘All right, here goes, you asked for it … Dad’s actually a city boy. He met my mum during a weekend away in the hills many moons ago. She lured him to Hilforest. As Dad tells it, they kept to themselves a lot, ensconced in their own little love bubble. But—’ Jadon ran a hand through his hair, ‘—I guess she got bored with domestic life, because then she took off with a hippie cult, never to be heard from again. As a boy, I vaguely remember her spending more time with these long-haired types in robes. To this day, I still can’t stand the scent of patchouli.’

  Shuddering at the memory, he pushed on. ‘Dad moved us back to the city for a while, but eventually he returned to Hilforest. I always got the feeling he was holding out hope that she’d come back one day … silly, old fool. Hope I’m never that spellbound by a woman that I put my whole life on hold. Forget to live.’

  ‘What a story,’ Mina whispered.

  Spellbound. Just imagine if Jadon knew the ugly truth about her.

  His face had that guarded look again. ‘Right, should we check out the next room? Never know, we might find something more contemporary there.’

  Mina nodded, following him through an intricately carved archway into the adjacent room. A few steps in, the lights flickered off, the space plunging into darkness. Mina skidded to a stop, but just as suddenly, the lights came back on. Either there’d been a mini blackout or all the sparks flying off her, whenever Jadon was around, had mucked with the power.

  ‘Watch out!’ A woman’s brusque voice sliced through the air, her footsteps pounding from the other side of the room.

  Mina glanced behind to see a black Oriental vase now teetering on its pedestal. She might have even clipped it with her handbag. Eek. A brownish-yellow aura, visible only to her eyes, oozed from the vessel. She really didn’t want to do magic in Jadon’s presence again, but there was no time to mess around, and at least he was a few feet ahead of her.

  Spinning back around, she squeezed her eyes shut and fervently whispered an incantation. The hope was the others in the room would be too busy holding their breath to notice her. Hour-long seconds later, she reopened her eyes, no shattering ringing in her ears.

  Hallelujah. The vase had righted itself, though a nervous fart-like odour and a general weariness emanated from its direction. Like it was tired of holding itself together, of living on the edge, for so long.

  The brusque-voiced woman materialised before Mina. From her all-black uniform, it was apparent she was a security guard. ‘Do you know how many centuries old that vase is?’ the woman barked. ‘This isn’t Kmart. Party or otherwise, you need to be mindful of your surroundings and watch where you’re going.’

  Mina found herself standing tall, her skin prickling with heat. ‘Perhaps you should consider roping off such items in future for safety?’

  The guard’s eyes bulged. ‘The whole point of events like this is for people to get up-close and personal with the art, to be free to move amongst it. But guests still need to be vigilant.’

  Mina was about to make a point about the building’s dodgy wiring when she felt a hand on her arm. Jadon stared down at her. Gulp. She wasn’t putting on her most professional display, and his dad’s friend was on the gallery’s foundation.

  ‘Wanna blow this popsicle stand?’ he asked, then narrowed his gaze at the security guard. ‘This place is proving a bit stuffy for me.’

  Mina beamed. ‘Sounds good.’

  Then with his elbow linking hers, like they were a proper couple, she joined him in striding from the room. The security guard’s eyes burned holes in the back of her head, but Mina no longer cared.

  As she headed down the hall with Jadon, she giggled. ‘Thanks for the support. Although, you don’t really have to leave the event for me. We could just check out another room.’

  ‘It’s all good,’ Jadon replied. ‘I’ve had my fill, I reckon.’

  Possibly he was just determined to get her home and for the night to be over. Although, he hadn’t let go of her elbow yet. It seemed he took his acting very seriously. At the exit, glass automated doors whooshed opened, enticing them out onto the tree-lined city street. Traffic punctuated the air and a light breeze ruffled Mina’s do.

  Jadon gazed down at her, a question seeming to hover on his luscious lips. ‘What were you saying to yourself in there before?’ he finally asked. ‘When the vase wobbled?’

  Mina swallowed hard, fear mingling with disappointment inside that he hadn’t asked her where to next. ‘I was doing a Hail Mary, like a good Italian girl,’ she fibbed.

  Jadon’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. ‘Guess it worked.’ Sadly, he let go of her arm. ‘Should we take the scenic route back to the car and cut through the square?’

  Mina’s foolish heart danced with hope again. The night was still young. ‘Why not?’

  The city square, when they reached it, looked like a Roman piazza with its twinkling fairy lights, majestic water fountain, and crowds attracted by the food vans parked on the perimeters. An Italian crooner wannabe also added to the ambiance with his busking.

  Jadon turned to her as they made their way through. ‘Want a gelato, on me? I feel like I owe you something since the gallery event didn’t exactly live up to the hype.’

  ‘It was fun,’ Mina insisted. ‘Until the vase incident. But … I could never turn down a gelato.’

  Jadon’s eyes crinkled at the corners in a smile. ‘Onto it.’

  Thankfully, the queue to the gelati truck was short. Jadon chose a rather artisan flavour for himself—caramelised figs and roasted almonds—while she went for simple pistachio. They sat on concrete steps, overlooking the square, while spooning from their gelato cups. Rewind just a few weeks ago and Mina couldn’t have even imagined doing something so casual with him.

  He waved his little green spoon in the air. ‘You know, I’ve never asked if Mina is short for anything.’

  She smiled shyly. ‘Lumina, actually. Not that anyone ever calls me that. It’s like my sister Lotta’s really “Charlotta”. My mum likes unusual names.’

  He tested out the moniker on his tongue and she liked the musical way he made it sound. ‘Like luminous, or la luna.’ He half-smiled. ‘Told you Italians were obsessed with the moon. Pretty name.’

  Her cheeks grew hot, like he’d just said she was pretty. To cover herself, she turned to watch a smiling toddler run through a water feature, spurting rows of liquid at random. The boy’s parents hovered nearby, laughing with him.

  ‘Huh, it’s good to see a kid enjoying some outdoor fun,’ she jabbered, digging her spoon into her gelato again. ‘With all the subdividing going on in the ‘burbs, sadly backyards will one day be a thing of the past—even in little ol’ Adelaide.’

  Jadon breathed out through his nose. ‘Try living in an apartment in Milan. There’s a reason the locals are so well-dressed and always out and about. They need to escape their four walls, and mortgages are so out of reach for many, they may as well splurge on their wardrobes.’

  Mina swallowed another nutty mouthful and shook her head. ‘I could get used to having a gelato shop on every other corner still.’

  Jadon smiled, then cocked his head. ‘Listen, it’s ol’ Moon Face, Sinatra. We were only talking about him the other night.’

  ‘Haha. You’re right.’

  Mina turned to watch the greying busker, with his black porkpie hat, singing into his mike. Even though his jacket buttons were in the wrong holes, his voice was flawless. An elderly couple shuffled over to slow-dance near the cherub-covered fountain, like they really were starring in Breakfast at Tiffany’s or something.

  ‘Care to dance?’

  Mina snapped her head around to stare at Jadon. ‘Very funny.’

  Bu
t he surprised her by saying, ‘I’m being serious. It’s a nice night, we’re dressed like we’re at a wedding, and, well, my gelato’s finished. Plus, this guy’s good.’

  Mina’s mind raced. What parallel universe had Jadon slipped into? It wasn’t the sort of thing an acting manager ordinarily suggested. And it’d be like dancing with her own demons in the pale moonlight, only encouraging heartache.

  Regardless, she heard herself murmuring, ‘You put forward a good argument. Okay.’

  After swallowing another spoonful of gelato, she got to her feet, feeling like a new deer on its feet. He reached for her cup and spoon and tossed them in a nearby bin, along with his.

  Then, zombie-like, she followed him to the lit-up fountain, the mist from the water cooling the air. He took hold of her hand and rested his other one on her waist. In turn, she put her free hand on his shoulder. Ready, they began to slowly move together, like they were dancing under a private moon.

  And the bloke certainly knew how to use his feet. Maybe he had frequent occasions to don the tux and hit the dancefloor abroad, and that evening, she’d proved the most convenient companion. It didn’t matter; she breathed in his sandalwood scent, trying to imprint the smell, and the feeling of his hardened angles and planes against her, to memory. She doubted she’d ever get the chance again.

  The busker warbled the song’s chorus and her stomach clenched. Witchcraft … wicked witchcraft. It was the first time she’d noticed which Sinatra number the guy was singing.

  Jadon peered down at her, mouthing the lyrics about there being ‘no nicer witch’, his eyes suffused with green. Then he spun her around, tipping her backwards.

  It was the most bittersweet moment. If she angled her head up a little, she could kiss him full on the mouth, the moon and fairy lights winking prettily above them. Instead, she whispered, ‘I should go home.’

  Because what was the point of doing anything else?

  A flicker of something undefinable crossed his face. But he said a casual ‘no probs’ and helped her back up to standing, the spell broken. After that, walking to his car and driving home seemed to happen at warp speed. Jadon kept up an airy front, but it was obvious that something had shifted between them.