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 11

by Wendy Steele


  Lizzie and Rowan agreed the chips and vegetable spring rolls were delicious while Sam and Richard devoured their fish. Food always tasted good outdoors. Especially in good company.

  “So will you be back for the semi-finals in Brentwood?” said Sam.

  “Definitely. Wouldn’t miss it. Are you going to play the new song?”

  “Nah, we’ve not practised it enough. We need to be solid if we’re going to get to the final.”

  Richard pulled up in the road outside Lizzie’s house.

  “We’re home, Rowan.”

  She could see Rowan was asleep on Sam’s shoulder but didn’t want to embarrass either of them.

  “I’ll grab our bags from the boot as we go. Thanks so much, Richard. I’ve had a lovely day.”

  “Thank you both for coming. We’ll have to book up a bowling trip before you fly to Spain.”

  “You’re on and Mum and I will thrash you again!”

  “If you say so,” laughed Richard.

  17

  “Hi, Mum. How are you? Thought I’d ring you to let you know Rowan and I are going to Spain at the end of the month.”

  “Are you going to Marsha’s?”

  “Yes, she invited us both this year.”

  “No dear, I suspect she needed you to bring Rowan as Joshua was unavailable.”

  “It’ll be nice to see her, Mum, and I can’t remember the last time I had a holiday.”

  “If I was going away, I wouldn’t pick Spain. There are far more interesting locations.”

  “And they all cost money I don’t have. There’s nothing wrong with Spain. Sunshine, sand and a swim each day sounds a good way to spend ten days, don’t you think?”

  “If you say so, Elizabeth but I’ve been there twice and it was two times too many!”

  “Must have been a while ago?

  “The last time wasn’t long after your father died. Do me good, they said. Help you put things in perspective, they said. Manipulators and conmen the lot of them!”

  “Who are, Mum?”

  “No one you know, and no one I wish to know any more. Is Rowan excited?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll send her the usual spending money and I suppose you’ll need some too.”

  “Rowan will be thrilled, Mum but you don’t need to worry about me.”

  “As you wish but you won’t be able to accompany me to the hospital now.”

  “I didn’t know you were going.”

  “Neither did I until yesterday. It’s a private place. My new doctor said I should go. I suppose I’ll go on my own now.”

  “Mum, I don’t know anything about this.”

  “It’s painful to talk about, dear not least because of the irony, your father being the drinker.”

  “Mum! What’s this all about?”

  “Doctor thinks there’s a problem with my liver function, that’s all. Probably nothing to worry about. Anne Wilson can come with me. I went with her to the opticians last month to sort out her cataracts. She won’t mind coming in the taxi with me.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “You didn’t know, so stop worrying about it. I wouldn’t ask you to cancel your holiday for me or anything. I’ll manage on my own.”

  Lizzie walked in a daze from the hallway and cracked her hip on the kitchen work surface. Rubbing at the pain, tears prickling her eyes, she put the kettle on to boil and flopped into a chair. Patricia McCartney had never had a day’s sickness in her life, or at least not one Lizzie knew about. Her mother viewed illness as an inconvenience to be ignored and pain to be borne. Lizzie was sent to school one day with flu and had to be chauffeured home by a teacher when she collapsed in the corridor. The news her mother was keeping a hospital appointment suggested something was wrong but what could she do? She couldn’t let Rowan down. Not for the first time, Lizzie wished she had a sibling to share the care of her mother.

  Lizzie declined to wear a wire to meet Matthew Brown but she was glad Richard was in the next street. Deceit wasn’t easy for Lizzie but as Matt had lied about his father and Edward Brown was hiding something from her, she didn’t feel so bad. Sitting all evening looking at Matt’s handsome face was almost a pleasure but avoiding his hands was a chore.

  “I saw some new bands with my daughter the other day, youngsters starting out. Have you heard of the Battle of the Bands?”

  Matt shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. Lizzie hoped the quiver running through her didn’t show on the outside. Her head knew he was a slime ball but her eyes always failed to inform her body.

  “No, why should I?”

  “No reason.”

  “We’ve talked about my band before. I told you, they’re hacking me off.”

  “But isn’t it better to be in a band? Won’t you miss the opportunities to share your songs?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Lizzie blushed. “Well, isn’t music a form of artistic expression the same as poetry, writing, painting or sculpture? Don’t you feel inhibited and only half a person when you can’t express yourself?”

  “I love singing but I don’t want to be linked with a third rate band.”

  “But you played in the past. Don’t you just need more practise together?”

  Matt shook his head. “I’ve moved on with my life, my ideas and my music. They’re stuck in the same ol’, you know. Why are we talking about the band again? Come on, what have you been up to?”

  “I told you, nothing much. Rowan and I went to the beach with one of her friend’s from school the other day which was lovely as we don’t have a car.”

  “Why not?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Why don’t you have a car? Can you drive?”

  “I can but we can’t afford a car. Pennies are too tight to add in such an expensive variable.”

  “That must be a pain. You should get a car.”

  Not for the first time, Lizzie wished she were out to dinner with Richard and not Matt. Richard didn’t tell her what to do or make her feel inadequate.

  “Like I said, too expensive. Did I tell you, I’m painting again?”

  The waiter cleared their plates. The pizza had been delicious though Lizzie couldn’t eat all hers. They had to have separate pizzas as Matt refused to eat pizza without pepperoni. Richard had asked her to use any opportunity to learn something new, maybe Edward was going away or meeting someone important but as she wasn’t supposed to know he was Matt’s father, she’d struggled to bring up the subject of work. It wasn’t a wasted evening. The food was good. Shame about the company.

  Brown, Melchett and Brown gave Lizzie a full ten days off so, with weekends, she had time before to organise packing. The charity shops provided two pairs of sandals, three pairs of shorts, five vest tops and a big, floppy straw hat, even bigger than the one she owned. Money was spent on sun lotion and insect repellent and Lizzie constructed a mini first aid kit. On a whim to move to France after a particularly difficult visit from Josh, Lizzie had renewed her passport which she located and packed in her hand luggage with Rowan’s. With three days still to go, Rowan was packed and excited. Lizzie was glad to accept Richard’s invitation to go bowling.

  It was a cool evening, a chill breeze blew clouds across the sky and these soon turned grey and precipitous. They ran laughing from the car park to the bowling alley as the rain bounced off the pavements like ping pong balls.

  The fizz in the white wine spritzer tickled her nose and Lizzie giggled. Rowan’s face when Lizzie completely fluffed her first bowl, spinning it out of her fingers, set her off again and Sam’s delight at his strike kept her smile in place. Sam had chosen a Thai restaurant for them to try after their game and the plates of delicious fresh vegetables, rice and noodles made everyone happy.

  Outside her house, Lizzie turned to Richard.

  “Thanks for a lovely evening. I haven’t laughed so much in ages.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ve had a great time. You have everything you ne
ed for holiday?”

  “I think so.”

  “And you don’t need a lift to the airport?”

  “Marsha sent enough money for all our travel costs so a car is picking us up, thanks.”

  “Well, have a great time. I’ll miss you.”

  Richard leaned across the gear stick as Lizzie turned her head. Lizzie was certain it should have been a peck on the cheek but instead, their lips brushed together. Seconds passed, it felt like hours, until Lizzie leapt from the car. Rowan and Sam were talking at the door. He hugged her and kissed her forehead as Lizzie came up the path.

  “Have a good time, Mrs M.”

  “I will. Thanks Sam.”

  18

  A limousine drove them to the airport. Rowan pouted happily on the back seat at nosy drivers when they pulled up at traffic lights while Lizzie sunk into the upholstery. Her heart beat in her ears as they neared the terminal, panic interrupting the list she was trying to tick off in her head. Her patchwork trousers were now officially her holiday trousers, a role Lizzie had never thought they would play. Wheeling their cases, Lizzie scanned the departure board while the mass of humanity circled around them. They queued at the check-in, Rowan chattering happily while Lizzie pretended to listen. Flights and delays were announced in a metallic, echoing voice, while children cried and seasoned travellers, ear plugs in situ, strolled to their destination.

  They ate their sandwiches in the departure lounge, Lizzie treating them to drinks, and watched the seats fill up with holiday makers on their way to Spain. They took it in turns to use the bathroom facilities until their flight was called. An argument at the check-in desk kept them waiting in line.

  “I booked two seats together! There must be some mistake.”

  A young mother stood with a toddler on her hip, a vast carry-on bag bouncing on the other and a young girl clinging to her skirt.

  “I’m sorry, madam, but you didn’t.”

  “You can’t expect a five year old to sit beside a stranger on her own!”

  “I’m sorry, madam. If you’d like to wait, we can see if there are any free seats but the flight is fully booked.”

  The toddler began to cry. The woman stepped to one side, consoling the little one with soothing words. She pulled her daughter at her leg closer and bent down to give her a hug. The carry-on bag flipped over her shoulder and sent her tumbling to the floor. No one moved. Except Lizzie and Rowan. In seconds, their space in the queue disappeared.

  The short flight seemed even shorter. It was amazing how many nursery rhymes and songs Lizzie remembered. Rowan had the whole row singing ‘Wheels on the bus’ and Teagan didn’t even notice they’d taken off. With her tight dark curls and serious brown eyes, she reminded Lizzie of a young Rowan and the memory made her smile. While they explored the delights of the food tray, Teagan told them they were visiting her Grandma and if her mummy could find a job, they would go back again, to live there before her birthday. They talked birthdays for a while and school and baby brothers until Teagan’s mother passed by on her way to the toilet and shyly handed over four books. As the sign lit up to fasten their seatbelts, Lizzie was reading a story to a child on her lap and she couldn’t resist giving Teagan a hug before she fastened her into her seat.

  They waited for the other passengers to disembark before making their way off the plane. Lizzie took Conor and walked with him while the others queued at passport control and again at baggage handling. They walked through departure towards a handsome, elderly man holding a card saying ‘Martin’.

  “Thank you, thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve done…”

  “There’s no need, honestly. It was a pleasure, really.”

  The young woman, Rosi, rummaged in the front pocket of her bag and produced a card. “You said you were staying near Ojen. Momma lives a few miles away, outside Marina de Cabopino. She has her own place, a little cottage in the grounds of the villa she looks after. It would be fun to meet up, if you have time. My phone will take a message so I could call you back.”

  Lizzie took the card. “We’d like that very much, Rosi. I’m sure we’ll be able to manage it. Teagan said you’re looking for a job, with a view to staying here.”

  Rosi nodded. “I’m hoping to get cleaning or other domestic work, jobs I can do while Teagan is at school. Momma can manage Conor for a few hours at a time. We need a change. There’s nothing for us in England.”

  “I’m sorry. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

  “Mummy was a singer before I was born.”

  “So that’s why you sing so beautifully!”

  Teagan clung to Rowan’s legs. “Hey, munchkin. You help your Mum find the way to Grandma’s and we’ll see you soon.”

  The villa was accessed through huge iron gates manned by a security guard. He nodded to their driver, Alain, and the gates slowly opened.

  “This is great, Mum. It’s so much warmer than England!”

  “You still have to wear your lotion though. I know your skin tans easily but that doesn’t mean…Sorry, can’t help myself. Look at these beautiful gardens.” Lizzie’s pressed her nose to the window, “And that looks like a pagoda!”

  “I knew you’d like it here.” Rowan grinned. “You need to chill, mum and stop fretting. This holiday will do you good.”

  Lizzie smiled. “You’re probably right.”

  “Only probably?”

  Lizzie had eyes only for the house. They were almost at the top of the private drive.

  “Yes, Rowan. That’s your father on the veranda with Nanny Martin.”

  You couldn’t dislike Bryony. Hating Bryony would be akin to hating a new born lamb. Lizzie tried not to stare as Bryony rubbed lotion over her breasts, protruding from her bikini, and over an impossibly flat stomach.

  “Shall I do you, Rowan?”

  “She won’t be sitting in the sun, thank you.” The words flew from Lizzie’s lips like the roar of a lioness. “Sorry, Bryony. We’re not used to such strong sunshine.”

  Bryony smiled, her grey eyes filling with tears. “Of course you’re not. Look how pale you are. Start in the shade, Rowan and with your complexion, you’ll have a tan like your Nan’s before the week is out!”

  Lizzie frowned. She tried not to but her face wouldn’t listen. She looked over at Marsha Martin, three loungers down. Her leathery face glistened with oil while two blue circles shone out of it, glorious sapphires in a mud pool. Her bleached blond locks hung over her shoulders. A young man sat on a lounger facing her on one side. Josh sat on the other.

  Josh looked older and had developed a paunch, sagging over his fluorescent Bermuda shorts. Grey hairs speckled the shadow on his chin and she suspected the rich dark hair, falling to his shoulders, was enhanced. She looked away from the cause of so much pain in her life and adjusted the sun shade. The young man beside Marsha came over to help her.

  “Thanks, Antonio. You’re very kind.”

  “And you are very welcome, Miss Lizzie. Mrs Martin is happy you and Miss Rowan are here. Family are important to her.”

  “As are you! What would she do without you?”

  Antonio bowed briefly. “I do my job, Miss Lizzie and make sure Mrs Martin has everything she needs. Staff can take advantage if you don’t know the language and Mrs Martin is a kind person.”

  “She is, very kind.”

  The late afternoon sun beamed down. Lizzie relaxed and read a little of her book while Rowan fidgeted. After half an hour, Lizzie closed her book and looked at Rowan. Without a word, they dived into the pool. Lizzie had perused swimwear, bikinis and suits, but declined to purchase a new one so she swam in her plain blue Speedo one piece. Rowan wore a tank top two piece in vibrant red with white polka dots. They raced to the far side of the pool, touching the side in a shower of spray and laughing as they surfaced.

  “You okay?”

  Lizzie nodded. “It’s Marsha’s house. She can invite who she likes but I thought your father couldn’t bring you because he was bus
y?”

  “Looks like Nanny found a way to get you to have a holiday, I reckon. Or maybe she wanted to see you. You’ve always got on well. It’s a bit weird, though, with both of you here. And Bryony.”

  “It is but I guess we’ll have to get used to it.”

  “Has he spoken to you?”

  “No, we have nothing to say to each other. We’ve both moved on with our lives and hopefully, you and he will get a chance to spend some time together.”

  “I haven’t seen him for over a year.”

  “I know.”

  “He didn’t remember my birthday and the token at Christmas came from Nanny.”

  Lizzie raised her eyebrows.

  “I saw the Spanish postmark, even though you tried to hide it. Don’t worry, Mum. I know what he’s like.”

  “You do?”

  “I know I used to worship the ground he walked on but Sam suggested I took a step back.”

  “Right.”

  “I began to see things from both sides. I know you chose to leave Dad but he’s always had the choice to be a part of my life, and he didn’t take it.”

  “I see.”

  “Don’t look so worried. I’m not going to make a scene or anything. In fact, it suits me better to play along. I might get some money out of it.”

  “Rowan!”

  “Well why not? You brought me up with no help from him so why shouldn’t he treat me now?”

  “Be careful, little flower. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “I won’t and I like Bryony. Race you back!”

  They swam and tumbled in the water. They jumped, knees to their chins off the diving board causing waves to lap out of the pool. As her finger tips crinkled, Lizzie was glad to run from the water and shelter under the sun shade. She sat on her lounger patting herself dry. Antonio called her over. Beside him on his lounger, she tucked her sarong around her legs and adjusted her straw hat. Antonio moved the sun shade and she ditched the hat. All the while, her skin prickled at the force of Josh’s stare. Tiny cracks skittered over her armour.

 

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