The Naked Witch (A Wendy Woo Witch Lit Novel Book 1)

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The Naked Witch (A Wendy Woo Witch Lit Novel Book 1) Page 10

by Wendy Steele


  “Not yet. I need to make sure I can continue to walk in these heels.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Of course, Mr Brown. How unprofessional it would be if I signed my contract without a thought and then two weeks later, found out my ankles weren’t up to it. I need to give this a proper try out and of course, not all my clothes are like this.”

  “I’m sure there’ll be no problem. You can sign your contract now and you can stop worrying about your job.”

  “I took it home.” That lie was easy. Surprisingly easy.

  “Then I suggest you bring it back.”

  “Rowan, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  It was a muggy evening. Opening windows and doors made no difference to the air quality but merely invited a host of insects in so Lizzie and Rowan lay on cushions and rugs on the grass in front of the Sanctuary, surrounded by citronella candles in jars.

  “Granny McCartney particularly asked me not to do something.”

  “But you’re going to do it anyway.”

  “No! Maybe, I don’t know. She was upset.”

  “Do you want to tell me about it?”

  “No, not yet but I’m sure she’s hiding something.”

  “And you want to find out what.”

  Lizzie nodded. “As long as I don’t mention it to her, she doesn’t have to know, does she? Can I use your laptop?”

  “Yes but do you know what you’re doing?”

  “Probably.”

  Lizzie was grateful for Rowan’s help. Without her, she would have needed to join the social media sites. Rowan explained her ethics for using the net and Lizzie was impressed.

  “A really cool guy came into school in Year 7. He told us all about the nutters and pervs that get on these sites. Don’t worry, Mum. There’s very little on my profile and we don’t chat on here. So who’re you looking up?”

  “Tell no one, you hear? Aunt Eleanor.”

  “So what’s her surname?”

  “Shepherd.”

  “There are a gazillion of them.”

  “They have pictures?”

  “You’ll have to open each one to look at it closer and you’re trying to find an image of someone from decades ago. Can I?”

  “Sure.” Lizzie handed her the laptop. Rowan’s fingers whizzed over the keyboard.

  “So you’re trying to find Eleanor to ask about what happened to Simon?”

  “And to find out about her. Is it bad of me?”

  “How can catching up with long lost relatives be bad? I want to know more about my family too.”

  “That’s what I tried to tell Granny.” She didn’t tell Rowan about the tears or that her mother had looked like she’d seen a ghost when Eleanor and Simon were mentioned.

  “Here. There’s two in the UK looking the right kind of age and one who looks a bit younger.”

  “From the glimpse we saw, she looked a lot younger than Granny in the video but I think there are only three or four years between them.”

  Lizzie scanned each face in turn. The younger face made her stomach squirm. “That’s her.”

  “Cool, let’s see. You’ll need to…wait, this is my account. Mum, are you okay?”

  The photo on the screen was dated but in colour, taken at a similar time to the video they had watched. It was an outdoor scene. The subject looked beyond the camera. The breeze was frozen in time, lifting strands of fine fair hair across the woman’s face but without doubt, Aunt Eleanor had vivid green eyes.

  16

  “Mum? Nanny Martin’s on the phone. Can you come? Handset’s out of charge. I’m going on holiday!”

  Lizzie almost fumbled the handset thrust into her hand. She laughed at Rowan’s happy dance in the hall.

  “Marsha?”

  “I’m here, Lizzie. Have I got a happy granddaughter?”

  “You have. Is her father coming back to take her?”

  “That’s why I needed to talk to you, dear. How’s your head?”

  “Much better thanks.”

  “Good because I spoke to Joshua last night. He’s back in England but is tied up with work so he wondered if you could accompany Rowan?”

  “What? I…when?”

  “Last two weeks in August would be best. We’ve two galas in Monaco at the beginning of the month I’d like to get to. Would that suit?”

  “For a fortnight?”

  “Or ten days. You’ll need to sort the flights out from your end. Antonio knows how much these things cost. I’ll get him to transfer you money today and if you need any more, let me know.”

  “Marsha, I don’t know. I haven’t booked holiday from work.”

  “Then do it first thing on Monday morning. I’m sure it will be fine. Tell Rowan I’m looking forward to seeing her won’t you. Speak soon.”

  Monday morning dawned grey and misty. Murk lingered around every corner as Lizzie made her way to the bus stop. Today’s choice was dictated by the weather but the sleeveless green dress and jacket were a little tight. She worried her black shoes didn’t match. Over the weekend, she’d snitched part of the lining and fashioned a hair band. Her hair was growing back. Searching for new growth, she’d been distressed by the bristles prickling her fingertips but Louise assured her it would grow out softer. One day she would have a full head of hair again. Some days she didn’t want to leave home without a hat, especially if it was breezy, so fearful was she of displaying the bare skin on her head. Forcing the curls back with a band ensured maximum coverage, she told herself, and walked out of the front door.

  Louise greeted her from behind her desk. “Classy. How are you?”

  “Not bad. I’ve been invited to Spain for a fortnight.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “I guess but I haven’t booked any time off.”

  “I’m sure you’re entitled to some, even on probation. Pop in and see Tom. He’s been here since 7.30am.”

  “Thanks, Louise. I’ll do that, thanks.”

  Tom Melchett no longer had a secretary outside his office, Suzanne having been requisitioned by Edward Brown and Tania, by his nephew, David. Tom’s office door was closed so Lizzie knocked and walked in. Papers were scurried inside a folder and Tom placed his horn rimmed glasses on top.

  “Oh, it’s you, Lizzie. How can I help you? That’s a lovely outfit, by the way. Do sit down.”

  “Thanks, Tom. Glad you approve.”

  Tom glanced to the door, sweat glistening on his brow and darkening the arm holes of his shirt. “I have always approved. You know that. I didn’t want you to have to change but there you are. A new broom sweeps clean.”

  “You mean Edward Brown?”

  Tom nodded, glancing at the door again. “He did this at my father’s firm, you know.”

  “I didn’t. In the boardroom he said your Dad and he rescued the company with David’s father.”

  Lizzie leaned forward as Tom whispered.

  “It was my father’s company. It was doing okay but Edward wanted to make more. The Browns wanted a clean sweep. I wouldn’t be here if my father hadn’t left explicit instructions in his will that I was to take over every duty of his, including his place on the board.”

  “So maybe not for the best that Edward Brown is back now?”

  Tom fidgeted, mopping his brow with a scruffy handkerchief. “I’ve said too much. Please forget what I said. It’s best you know nothing about the past.”

  “Of course.”

  “So what did you need me for?”

  “I’ve been asked by my ex mother-in-law to bring Rowan to Spain to visit her. Rowan’s father usually takes her but he has work commitments. Do I have any holiday owing? Could I possibly go?”

  “I’m sure you can. Of course we owe you holiday. How long is it for and when?”

  “It’s the last two weeks of August and ten days or a fortnight, depending on the flights. Rowan’s looking into it online today.”

  Tom stood up. “Let’s go and sort this out with Ch
antelle and then we’ll see if Tania can’t call Rowan and give her a hand with the bookings. We have a few places that help us out at short notice and you don’t find yourself in a chicken shack with wings!”

  “Thanks. Thanks, Tom, that would be great.”

  With their tickets booked for Spain, Lizzie focussed on the upcoming Sabbat, Lughnasadh and the promised veggie barbeque. She loved the stories connected with this first harvest, especially the birth of the poet Taliesin but at this time of year, it was important to give thanks for the blessings of the earth and the abundance of nature. It was a fire festival, the Irish God Lugh being known as Bright or Shining One. She hoped Richard had organised the fire pit.

  Early on Saturday morning, Lizzie alighted from the bus with her basket on her arm. A thunder storm the previous evening had left cooler air in its wake and she was glad of her fleece as the entrance to the woods approached. Within the shade of the lush green canopy, Lizzie gathered rain drops in a tiny jar for future magical work. Off the track by the fallen oak, she shouldered her way deeper. A rickety fence helped her get her bearings and soon, she was filling a box with bilberries. She hummed as she worked and thanked the bushes for their treasure.

  Out of the trees, she followed a track towards the lake before veering left where she smelled her prize before she saw it. She pulled leaves of wild garlic and placed them in her basket, as well as red clover blossoms and dandelion leaves. Turning back on herself, she made her way towards the road but near the other entrance to the wood. Outside the cottage, she left money in a battered tin for a bagful of huge red tomatoes and another of hairy corn cobs. At this time of nature’s bountiful harvest, she enjoyed seeking out fresh and wild options.

  The bean burgers crumbled at the edges but the sweet corn cobs and vegetable skewers worked well on the barbeque, with Richard’s careful turning. The salad, drizzled with Lizzie’s rosemary vinegar was delicious.

  “You went out this morning and picked this?”

  “I wanted it to be as fresh as possible. Mr Brody, next door, picked me lettuce and basil. I wish I had time and knew how to grow more myself. It’s all I can do to keep half a dozen chickens and the weeding under control!”

  “At least the chickens are laying again, mum and the one with the black face, Ursula, has stopped pecking her feathers out. I remember the pots of herbs you grew at our other house. Next door’s cat kept peeing on them.”

  “I should try again, Rowan. We could at least dig over a patch and put in some potatoes.”

  “We? I’ll stick to cooking and eating, thanks.”

  “Rowan tells us you’re going away.”

  “Work has agreed the holiday and Tania helped Rowan book the flights. We’ll be away thirteen days in total.”

  “We’re going to Lakeside tomorrow, clothes shopping.”

  Lizzie frowned. “Not me. You can get the bus.”

  “Oh, thanks Mum! Thought you’d want to come with me.”

  “Six hours at Lakeside on a scorching day shopping for clothes doesn’t appeal, Rowan. Can’t you buy clothes in Romford?”

  “Is it due to be hot tomorrow then?”

  Richard nodded. “Your mum’s right. Supposed to be the hottest day of the year.”

  “I suppose I could go into town. I don’t need much.”

  “Good, because I thought we might go to the beach tomorrow, if you fancy it,” said Richard.

  Lizzie smiled at Rowan’s face contorting with indecision. The beach sounded lovely, as long as they could take some shade, and she hadn’t been to the sea for a long time.

  “Where were you thinking?”

  “If we set off early, we can go to Dunwich. Beach is a bit pebbly but they do the best fish and chips in the world.”

  “How early, Dad?”

  “Eight would be best. You kids can sleep in the car. Are you up for it, Lizzie?”

  “As long as there’s room for a brolly for shade, I’d love to go. Rowan?”

  “Yeah, why not.”

  “Do you swim?” asked Richard.

  “Yes, but I rarely swim in the sea. I do love a paddle though.”

  “And she’ll come home with her pockets full of stones. I’m swimming if it’s hot. Can I borrow your beach bag, Mum? I’ll have to try my bikinis on tonight though. I haven’t worn them for a year.”

  “Shall I clear these plates and bring out dessert? We’ll need to get the fire lit so we’re not too late if we’ve an early start.”

  “Chill, Mum. Sam and I will get the fire started.”

  “I’ve got this cool gadget to make a spark. Did you bring any moss, Rowan?”

  “No but there’s plenty of dry twigs and leaves around. Come on!”

  It was midnight. Lizzie’s Sanctuary glowed with twinkling candles, orange, yellow and red. She sat cross legged before her cauldron in the circle she had cast.

  “Blessed Cerridwen, mother of Taliesin,

  Mother of all that is abundant in nature.”

  She dripped in the water from the storm and began adding herbs, her eyes closed and her mind picturing fields of wheat, glimmering in the sun.

  “We thank you for the grain of the land

  And the fruit of the trees.”

  She stirred with her oak twig and all the candles snuffed out. Immobile and silent, Lizzie opened her eyes. Smoke swirled up from the cauldron, though no fire was lit beneath it. Lizzie’s heart pounded in her ears. She shut her eyes again and heard the music. It was a dashing tune, similar to an Irish reel, and the dancers held hands, smiling as they circled first one way, then the other before taking their partners. The men were red haired, their rangy limbs turning the dance into a gallop. The violins soared and the dancers spun into a blur.

  The car park was filling up but Richard drove to the end of the gravel and managed to park facing the sea. Lizzie wore a tatty straw hat, secured with an azure scarf which made her feel like Aunt Sally but kept the sun from her face and shoulders. Sam carried the garden chairs and Rowan the windbreak. Shifting pebbles made the walk a slow one but soon they had set up camp with two large garden umbrellas over them. Richard had brought guy ropes and carefully secured their only source of shade. He’d also brought a selection of Sunday papers so while Sam and Rowan stripped off their clothes and headed off on the long walk to the sea, Lizzie sat back with a shiny supplement and relaxed. Richard arrived back from another trip to the car and dumped a cool box at her feet.

  “I made ginger lemonade last night, after you left. Do you want to try some?”

  Ginger and bubbles was a fun combination and deliciously refreshing. The breeze along the beach kept the temperature bearable and tempers tamed as the beach filled up with families and demanding children. They watched Sam and Rowan in the distance.

  “We would have loved another child, Eilidh and I, but Sam’s great. I know I’m lucky.”

  “He is. He has a good temperament and he’s thoughtful. Teenagers aren’t always.”

  “How about you?”

  “Another child? Honestly, I’ve been so busy bringing up Rowan and working, I haven’t thought about it. Pasta with Matt last month was the first date, if you like, I’ve been on in years…and look how that turned out! What about you?”

  Richard shook his head. “I’m not ready yet. Sam keeps nagging me, going on about me being old and grey soon and telling me to ‘get out there’. ‘There’ is a scary place.”

  “He’s being mean. You’re a long way from old. Rowan’s never said anything to me. She either wants to keep me to herself or thinks I’ll make a mess of another relationship.”

  “So she knows why you broke up?”

  “No, she doesn’t. She asked recently and I told her our marriage had irretrievably broken down, there were things said and done that couldn’t be taken back or amends made and I had felt the two of us would be better apart from her father. She seems to have accepted that.”

  Richard nodded and looked out towards the sea line. “Shall we walk and meet them with
towels?”

  “I’ll grab my bag.”

  She knew he sensed she was holding back. Memories of that fateful June evening were close to the surface, easily stirred and the lump in her throat was choking her. And that’s how Josh kept his hold on her after all these years. While he flew around the world, changing girlfriends like socks, she yearned for the gawky boy in the tight jeans and luscious shoulder length hair who’d stolen her heart.

  “It’s easy to put the kids first though, isn’t it?” said Richard. “So much easier than thinking about one’s own future.”

  “I don’t look far ahead. Certainly haven’t since this business at work. You’re right. I think of Rowan’s future and try and give her opportunities and widen her horizons but not my own.”

  “I know I have work to do before I consider the future.”

  “Like what?”

  “Eilidh and I were a couple for almost twenty years so I suppose I mean, finding out who I am now, as a single man. Does that make sense?”

  “It does and I haven’t! Decorating Rowan’s room, sorting the chickens, juggling the home while trying to make a good impression at work and trying to settle into a new neighbourhood have taken all my time. What are you grinning at?”

  “Do you ever believe your own feeble excuses?”

  They laughed, Richard shielding his eyes even though he was wearing sun glasses. Lizzie stopped walking and Richard stood beside her. They watched Sam and Rowan in the waves.

  “I try to tell myself they get on like a big brother and little sister, you know,” said Lizzie.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “They are only giving each other piggy backs, of course but I’ve noticed the way he looks at her.”

  “I’ve tried not to look. Do I need to have a word with him?”

  “I think so but you’ll need to choose your words carefully.”

  “Or I’ll push them together?”

  “You got it but I have to admit that Rowan’s been a lot happier since they’ve been friends. Sam’s been a good influence on her.”

  “I’m glad. Shall we?” He offered her his arm and they walked towards the sea.

  Lizzie dozed in her chair while Richard, Sam and Rowan queued for food. They had the best intentions to eat early but the lure of the sea and the sunshine entrapped them so they supped lemonade and read their books and papers until they were hungry. Why were the days the four of them spent together such happy ones? Because they all got on, she supposed. She enjoyed spending time with Richard. They got on well, really well. But he’d said he didn’t want a relationship and wasn’t ready so maybe he was trying out, as it were, on her, being himself, or the self he thinks he is now, and seeing how she reacted. She was overthinking, she knew but the only other alternative was that he liked her rather a lot and that was a whole new sack of kittens.

 

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