A Very British Witch Boxed Set

by Isobella Crowley

  Driving around, he looked out for street names, shops, road signs, roundabouts, anything that rang any bells at all, but nothing. A good half an hour later, he turned down a street lined with houses. Glancing up at the sign on the corner, he found, quite by chance, that he’d stumbled across Ronnie’s street.

  Continuing along the road, it all started coming back to him. From then on, as he neared the end of one road, the next came to mind.

  He glanced through the driver’s window, first for Ronnie, then for signs that he might have been this way recently. His eyes darted from the driver’s window to the passenger’s, scrutinizing both pavements in turn, but still nothing. When he’d reached the route’s end for the third time, he switched on the Sat Nav system to bring up a map of the surrounding streets, see if it would lead to any ideas.

  Ronnie’s regular jogging path had failed to deliver, but there were a few side roads. The car started and proceeded to crawl along the street. It wasn’t long before Cliff noticed a side road that turned off the street at an angle of about five past.

  The side road had a row of three houses, with expensive-looking cars. The houses looked out at a vast field, beyond which, only just visible, stood a farmhouse. He could see sheep dotted around and in the distance; one or two cows too. However, there was no sign of Ronnie, no sign at all.

  Eventually, he sighed, shook his head and turned the car around. The return journey was even slower than before, eyes glancing around, examining the pavements thoroughly for any suspicious looking footprints or, better still, tufts of fur.

  After driving along Ronnie’s street for one final time, he passed the lights, turned on to the main road and accelerated. He’d done his bit and his conscience was clear. Now at least, no one could accuse him of not helping and he could get on with the things that actually mattered. When, or indeed if, he next set eyes on Ronnie, he was going to give him what for. He’d better have a damn good excuse and, even more importantly, he’d better never do his disappearing act ever again.

  +++

  Malaprop’s Bookstore, Bicester, England

  Hands glued to the steering wheel, eyes locked on the road ahead, Karl looked like he was chewing a wasp. “You sure this is gonna work?”

  Tarquin tapped the hairbrush on Karl’s thigh.

  Karl swatted at it and then wiped down his leg. “Be careful what you do with that thing would you?”

  Tarquin held the brush up to the light, inspecting the intricately woven web of red hairs. “There’s no reason why this shouldn’t work, Karl. There’s more than enough hairs here.”

  Karl’s lips twisted in mild disgust thinking of Ronnie’s hairs and dead skin cells being put on his trousers.

  The car slowed and the indicator clicked. “Come on, get out of the way will you, we haven’t got all day,“ Karl complained to the car in front. “And something else, there’d better be somewhere to park, because—”

  “Oh, stop your moaning will you?” Tarquin chastised. “We’re going to go in, perform the spell and find out once and for all what’s going on.”

  Once they’d pulled up in the tiny car park around the back of his bookstore, Tarquin opened the door, jumped out and turned to look at Karl, who was struggling with his seat belt. “Come on, this way.”

  It didn’t take them long to descend the long staircase to arrive in the basement where they’d locked Ronnie up. Tarquin stepped back from the dirty gray window, looked over his shoulder, and told Karl to close the door behind him.

  They each moved forward until they met in the center of the room. Tarquin raised the brush over his head, waved it around in a circular motion, then started chanting.

  The room shook and flashed a multitude of colors. The basement windows glowed bright red and the brush resembled some luminous wand. In the center of the room, less than two feet away from where they stood, a dark circle appeared, which gave birth to a column of blue light. Karl looked into the light, waiting for something to happen. He was just about to snigger at Tarquin and tell him it was a waste of time, when a face, a bit like a hologram, appeared in the light.

  As the blue light faded, the face grew increasingly prominent until they recognized it as Ronnie.

  Karl leaned forward, eyes as wide as they could go. “What the, where—”

  “Shh, keep your eyes on the light.”

  Karl’s mesmerized expression turned to one of intrigue. Brows furrowed, they both stood looking into the light, trying to work out where he was.

  Karl was the first to speak. “Looks like some kind of glass enclosure.”

  Tarquin nodded.

  “Any idea where it might be?”

  “No, but wherever it is, he’s in trouble.”

  Without budging his focus from the light, Karl gave a smug grin. “Looks like some kind of military base.”

  “Shh.” Tarquin thrust his arm across Karl’s midriff. “Someone’s coming.”

  Footsteps clapped along the row of similar looking enclosures until a man, dressed in military attire, appeared.

  The man came to a halt outside Ronnie’s cage and grinned. “The time has come, my friend. Oh, if only you knew what we are going to do to you.”

  Tarquin stepped back, waved a hand and the blue light faded. Seconds later, the normal lights came back on and everything was back to normal, as if the events of the previous five minutes had never happened.

  Tarquin, was both excited and concerned. “So, what do you make of that then?”

  “Looks like some kind of military base,” Karl repeated.

  Tarquin nodded. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

  “That Ronnie’s got himself in a whole load of trouble.”

  “Not just that. It means we can rule out the possibility that he’s just disoriented and lost as a result of his sickness. No, I think it’s safe to assume that he’s been taken.”

  Karl nodded, his expression decidedly somber. “Certainly, looks that way, doesn’t it?”

  “Mmm. So, what are we going to do about it?”

  Karl took out his phone. “Time to call in the cavalry.” He punched in a number, raised the phone to his ear and waited. “Come on, damn you, answer.” Karl sighed and shook his head. “I tell you what, if you need something done around here, do it yourself. And never call on Cliff. He’s a complete waste of— Cliff! I need a favor.”

  Cliff groaned. “Oh, what now?”

  “I need you to go and find Scarlett at the shop.”

  “Scarlett? Why?”

  “I need you to bring her here, we’re at the bookstore.”

  “Why you asking me?”

  “Look, Cliff. I couldn’t give a monkey’s arse what has gone or is going on between the two of you. Just find her and get her over here, now.”

  Cliff sounded more disgruntled than ever. “Well, okay then.”

  “Thank you.”

  Karl put the phone back in his pocket and shook his head. “Vampires,” he muttered, ironically.

  Tarquin had his phone to his ear.

  “Who’re you ringing?”

  Tarquin raised an index finger and told him to shush. Five minutes later, he put the phone back in his pocket and smiled.

  Karl was still watching him. “You gonna tell me who that was?”

  “Yes, just someone that knows a thing or two about casting spells. I could do with some help.”

  +++

  Bicester Vintner’s, Bicester, England

  After a slow start, the wine shop had gotten busy in the afternoon. There had been a constant flow of customers ever since Scarlett had returned from lunch, and she’d managed to charm a good few of them into buying more than they’d intended. Karl was bound to be pleased with her efforts. And if takings turned out to be up, he might start leaving her on her own more often. At the very least, he would stay off her case for a while.

  Standing at the counter, watching a woman in her fifties leave the shop with a crate of wine bottles, she decided it was time to take a well
-earned break. Besides, she might find something of interest around the back. Karl had his finger in lots of pies, so there could well be something there that might shed some more light on what was going on.

  The door swung open and a tall, dark man stepped in. Damn you, Scarlett thought, grinning politely in the direction of the door. The customer smiled, nodded and proceeded towards the counter.

  “Cliff!”

  Scarlett momentarily lowered her eyes from the invisible wall of awkwardness that stood between them.

  A cough. “Good afternoon, Scarlett.”

  If she’d learned one thing in her life, it was that the only way to overcome an awkward atmosphere was to get things out in the open. “Look, Cliff. What happened between us, it’s in the past now.”

  Cliff nodded. “It’s not about that.”

  “Well, I’m happy with Tim. I know it’s only early days and he can be a bit weird at times, but—”

  “Scarlett, shut up for one minute, will you?”

  The shock was written all over her face. Ever since their date that wasn’t, Cliff had been around. He had this way of looking at her that made her feel confident. It was a big compliment in a way and she’d never minded, despite the fact that she was happy with Tim.

  His blank, expressionless eyes looked straight through her like she didn’t exist. Given her situation, Scarlett knew this should be a good thing, but she just couldn’t help feeling a tiny bit rejected. There was little alternative but to put on her most business-like face and pretend she was meeting a supplier for the first time.

  “Sorry. Well, what is it then?”

  “I—we need your help.”

  “Did you find Ronnie?”

  “Well, yes and no.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, we just need your help with something extremely important, that’s all I can say.”

  “I don’t know Cliff. Karl’s not gonna be happy if I go traipsing off, leaving the store unattended.”

  “He won’t mind, not this time.”

  “How do you know he won’t?”

  “Because it was his idea to come and fetch you.”

  “Oh, well that’s a different matter then.”

  Cliff nodded. “Look, I can’t tell you much more for now. But Karl told me to tell you to close the shop early and get yourself over to Malaprop’s.”

  “What, right away?”

  “Yes, now.” He took out his phone and glanced at the time. “Look, I have things to do, places to go. I can’t stand around here chatting all day. So, can I leave it with you?”

  Scarlett nodded. “Yes, I’ll start packing up and have a walk round.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  The door closed and Cliff strode past the shop window. She glanced around. The shelves needed tidying, the petty cash needed counting. A bitter coffee smell drifted upwind from the white mug in front of her. She’d been helping herself to coffee all day and if Karl came back to find the kitchen in a state with dirty cups everywhere, tomorrow morning would be hell. There was a lot to do. No way she was going to make it there very quickly, what had she been thinking of?

  She whisked up the mug and took it with her into the kitchen. Hands immersed in the soapy water, her mind drifted. Cliff had been weird. He hadn’t been as cold as that for a long time. Ever since that day when he’d stood her up.

  Stepping back into the shop, she opened the till and began putting the coins in plastic bags. Ten minutes later, she put on her coat, gave the shelves one final tidy, and shut up shop. It was only a short walk to Tarquin’s, no more than ten minutes. Just enough time to go over things in her mind and see if she could figure out what was going on. Being the only uninformed person would put her at a disadvantage, but if she could piece together the clues, the element of surprise would work in her favor. Leaving the shop and walking past the neighboring window, she got to work.

  Chapter Eleven

  Malaprop’s Bookstore, Bicester, England

  Scarlett loved books and enjoyed going around to Malaprop’s, though the given circumstances were not at all ideal. There were hardly ever any customers in the store but today there were none. Tarquin must have put a shield around the store to keep people from coming in today, she mused, recalling a spell in her aunt’s grimoire that did just that. It was a good thing since Malaprop’s had rare and hard to find books that one could not find just anywhere, and people generally spent a good hour browsing the shop unless they knew exactly what they had come in to find.

  She took a look behind the till to confirm that the store was indeed closed and then proceeded to walk along the center aisle, past the archaic books, some of which were full of dust. All of them had yellow pages, and the air was full of an old book smell that reminded her of her grandparents’ place when she was a kid.

  She clasped her hands to her mouth and was about to hoot hello, when something told her it was a bad idea. There might be something nasty lurking in the back room. Best not make a sound until she felt safe in the company of the others.

  One foot on the top step, she paused. Faint voices drifted up the stairs, but she couldn’t be certain. The thought occurred to her that she’d never before been down these rickety old stairs on her own. There’d always been someone to accompany her, either in front or behind. Now, if her foot went through the step, there’d be no one to save her.

  Placing a hand on the banister, she moved her foot down to the next step. After the third step, she once again paused. Holding her breath, she tried to identify the voices, to reassure herself that she wasn’t about to set foot into a room full of burglars or worse. For once, the sound of Karl’s voice actually made her smile, and she continued her descent, before pausing again. There was another voice, warm and familiar. It could only belong to one person.

  “Hi, everyone,” Scarlett said, making her entrance. She glanced around at each of them in turn, smiling and nodding, until she came to her aunt.

  “Aunt Tabitha, what a pleasant surprise!” Scarlett smiled and walked across room to be by her side. Now, she knew everything was going to be okay and there was absolutely nothing to fear.

  Aunt Tabitha flashed a smile at Scarlett and waved her back. She was deep in conversation with Tarquin and from the look of things, it was about something important, or complicated or both. Tabitha slapped Tarquin on the back, said something under her breath, and they both chuckled. For what seemed like an age they both stood there swapping anecdotes, laughing together and sometimes exchanging information that would produce a gasp from the other.

  “Psst. Scarlett!”

  Scarlett looked over her shoulder to see Karl and Cliff watching them from a distance. Scarlett tiptoed towards them and joined in the conversation.

  “Look at them, thick as thieves,” Karl was saying, “I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re plotting something.”

  Cliff laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Well, sorcerers and witches are at the most powerful when they work together. If they were plotting, we’d be pretty powerless to stop them.”

  Cliff shook his head. “No, still can’t see it.” He glanced at Scarlett. “And if they were plotting, she’s hardly going to endanger her own niece, is she?”

  “No, suppose not.” Karl looked at Scarlett. “Thanks for coming Scarlett, everything okay at the shop?”

  “Oh, yes, couldn’t be better. If anything, takings were up on yesterday.”

  Karl’s eyes lit up. “Good, glad to hear it, well done.”

  “So, then. Why was I called here? What’s going on?”

  “It’s Ronnie.” He glanced at Cliff.

  “You tell her.”

  “Okay. You’d better brace yourself, Scarlett.”

  Scarlett braced herself. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “Tarquin and I went around to Ronnie’s house to see if he’d made it back okay.”

  “And? Did you find him?”

  “Not a sign. So, Tarquin went upstairs,
found Ronnie’s hairbrush and starts waving it around, saying he wants to do a scrying spell.”

  “Scrying spell? What’s one of those? Sounds intriguing.”

  “Yes, yes, I’m coming to that already if you let me!”

  “Sorry.” She mimed a zipping motion across her mouth.

  “Much to my surprise, all this hocus pocus stuff didn’t turn out to be one huge waste of time. We came back here, and over there, where your aunt’s standing now”—he gestured with his head at Tabitha— “a column of blue light appeared and in it, we could see Ronnie.”

  Scarlett’s expression was a mixture of astonishment, enlightenment, and intrigue. “And? What did you see?”

  “Well, this is where you need to brace yourself.”

  She once again stiffened. “Okay.”

  “He was in a cage, locked up like a wild animal in a zoo. Curled up, chained, and naked on the floor, still in wolf form.”

  “Oh my God, poor Ronnie.”

  “It gets worse. Some guy in a military uniform walked along the aisle. Looks like a real nasty piece of work, hitting his baton against the cages, making them clang, driving the inhabitants wild. Comes to Ronnie’s cage, stepped inside and told him it was time.”

  Scarlett’s lip started to quiver. “Time? Time for what?”

  “We’re not completely sure, but we think some kind of test.”

  “W—what makes you think that?”

  “Because just before the image faded, he grinned at Ronnie and said, ‘if only you knew what we’re going to do to you’. And his eyes, you should have seen his eyes. Like whatever it was they were going to do, he was going to enjoy every single minute of it. A real sadist.”

  Scarlett’s expression was a mixture of horror and concern. “Poor Ronnie!”

  Karl nodded. “Yes, poor Ronnie.”

  “So, now we know what’s happening to him, what are we going to do?”