A Very British Witch Boxed Set

by Isobella Crowley

  Back at his desk, he sat back and extended his legs, trying to get comfortable. He had to try and clear his head. If he didn’t get to work soon, he’d have to stay late, which could have consequences further down the road. He couldn’t understand why people didn’t realize this. With the bitter taste of coffee lingering in his mouth, he pushed his chair in and switched on his computer. Two minutes later, he was beavering away, working even more efficiently than usual.

  His phone rang. Not now, damn you, he thought, scowling. Whoever it was would have to wait and if it was important, it would serve them right. His typing continued but so did the ringing of his phone. Go away!

  The ringing persisted until finally, he shook his head, scowled and answered it. “What do you—Tabitha! How nice to hear from you, again.”

  From her tone of voice, it was clear that she’d noticed and fully understood his intonation, but had chosen to ignore it. “It’s Scarlett.”

  “What about her?”

  “Well, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I haven’t heard from her all day.”

  “She’s most probably in Costa with Amanda, you know what she’s like. Have you tried ringing Amanda?”

  “No, no. It’s more than that. Call it a witch’s intuition if you like, but I just get a sense that she’s in trouble.” There was a pause, as the older woman collected herself. “Tim, I‘m worried.”

  He sat up straight. “What can I do?”

  “Can you see if you can trace Scarlett’s phone? That should give us some kind of a clue, at least.”

  “I’ll do it right away.”

  He could hear Tabitha breathe out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

  “There’s no need to thank me, no need at all. You just leave it all to me. Don’t worry about a thing.”

  “Thank you. That was what I’d hoped you’d say.”

  “You stay on the line if you like.”

  “I will.”

  Tim brought up the software on his computer, entered Scarlett’s number and waited for the circle to finish rotating. Seconds later, the screen flashed up an address. Tim nodded, then felt a rush of panic.

  “Tabitha?”

  “Yes, I’m here.”

  “I’ve found it. I’ve got the address here.”

  “Oh, good job. Read it out then.”

  “Do you have a pen?”

  “Yes, I’ve got a pen.”

  Two minutes later, Tabitha sounded puzzled. “What’s she doing there?”

  He hesitated. “I’ve no idea.”

  “Sounds like you do, but you don’t want to tell me.”

  “No Tabitha, I really don’t know why she’s there.”

  “Right, well I’m going to have to go down and see for myself. Will—will you do me a favor, Tim?”

  “Sure, anything.”

  “Can you meet me there? I don’t know what I might find.”

  Tim reached forward and switched off his computer. “I’ll meet you there.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  McMillan’s Flat, Market Square, Bicester

  Cliff tugged on Scarlett’s sleeve. “Remember, don’t leave the circle and you’ll be okay.”

  She flashed him a grin, her expression awash with trepidation. “Thanks, Cliff. Don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  Cliff looked genuinely concerned. “Scarlett, are you sure you’re okay? You’re starting to tremble.”

  Scarlett swallowed the ball of anxiety that was rising up in the back of her throat. “Yes, let’s just get on with it, shall we?”

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I know, Cliff. But I want to. I want to prove Raven’s innocence and prove to myself that I can carry out a spell like this. Think I’ll be stronger for it afterward.”

  He nodded. “I understand.”

  Cliff struck a match and walked around all four corners of the room, lighting up the array of candles that came in every size and shape imaginable, before stepping into the middle and doing the same to the rectangular formation that stretched back to the window. In no time at all, the living room, and indeed the entire flat was filled with puffs of smoke and the smell of hot wax.

  A different color of smoke drifted across from each corner of the room until they converged in the middle and formed a multicolored cloud over the circle of salt.

  Scarlett threw a nervous glance around the room, pausing to lock eyes with Raven, who nodded her some encouragement.

  Cliff again stepped forward. “Scarlett, it’s not too—”

  She held her hand up, arm fully extended in his direction. “Shh.” The column of light grew taller, reaching, then intermingling with the cloud of smoke, producing a shower of golden rain drops.

  The room fell silent as they all stood looking into the mesmerizing vortex. Raven was the first to notice. “Look,” she said, pointing into the rain.

  Cliff and Scarlett peered into the rain and gasped as the outline of a figure appeared.

  Raven grinned. “Scarlett, you did it. Well done.”

  Scarlett wanted so badly to step into the shower and revel in her achievement.

  Cliff urged caution. “Don’t lose focus now or all your good work will be for nothing.”

  Just as her breaths turned shallow and fatigue started to make its presence felt, the outline turned into a clear human form. It was a woman, of average height, maybe shorter. She had long, straight dark hair and a spiteful face. She reminded Scarlett of the evil Queen she’d once seen in an animation of Sleeping Beauty.

  “Looks like a right nasty piece of work,” Cliff muttered, shaking his head.

  Raven glared at him. “Shh. She’s doing something.”

  A window appeared, prompting them to reposition themselves.

  Cliff furrowed his brow. “What’s that she’s got here? Looks like she’s delivering some kind of gift.”

  Scarlett nodded. “Yes,” she said through shallow breaths. “Th—that’ll be the chocolates.” She paused to breathe deeper. “And the card. The things I found on the table.” Right there and then, the day she’d found the chocolates and the card felt like a million light years away. And for all she knew, it could have been.

  They watched in silence as the woman rang the bell. Next thing they knew, she was running away from the scene.

  An intercom buzzed and a man got up from the couch, went to the door and descended the same staircase that they’d climbed earlier.

  “That’s this place isn’t it?” asked Cliff.

  Raven nodded. “And the man—that’s Robert.”

  Robert trudged down the stairs, huffing and puffing. He was clearly not happy with the disturbance. Once on the ground floor, he noticed the pile of leaflets below his mailslot and opened the door.

  They watched him look over the gift briefly and discount it as if he didn’t believe it could be for him. But soon, curiosity seemed to get the better of him, as he appeared to change his mind and leaned down to inspect it closer. Reading the label with surprise, Robert picked up the gift box and the card and returned upstairs.

  When the door to his flat opened once more, it revealed a grinning Robert. With the card and gift in hand, he made his way to the livingroom to open his mail. Then he paused and looked up and the ceiling, puzzled for a minute, perhaps trying to figure out who might have sent him a gift. Eventually, he turned his attention to the card and tore open the corner of the yellow and brown envelope by sliding his finger along the top until the tear was wide enough to extract the card.

  Robert smiled as he read over the contents of the card. It was obvious to all watching, that while he was happy with the gesture, he wasn’t overly emotional about it. He seemed more flattered than anything else. As though his ego has just taken a massive boost.

  Discarding the card, Robert then turned to the gift. He made quick work of the wrapping paper, tearing it off in one motion. As they expected, it was the box of chocolates Scarlett had seen previously. Again, Robert was smug. It was evide
nt that the gift had inspired little, if any, sentimental value. After spending a minute or so staring at the chocolates and the card in silent contemplation, he lifted the card and placed it on top of the chocolate box.

  The vision then moved back downstairs. This time it featured a woman, whom Scarlett recognized as Raven in her human form. She looked happy as she opened the door and practically skipped up the first flight of stairs. The vision followed Raven as she made her way to Robert’s flat. As she placed her key in the lock, her smile turned to a grin and her eyes shone brightly. Her affection for Robert was palpable.

  “Hi, Robert!” She called out, walking to the living room. She watched him hover over the coffee table, deep in thought. She tried again to get his attention, but received only silence in return.

  Raven approached with caution. “Robert, whatever’s the matter?” She glanced down at the table. “Robert, darling.” She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes before lifting the card. “I’m touched, really, I am.

  Suddenly, Robert sprung to life. “No, that’s not—”

  Raven grinned, waving away his protests and opened the card. As her eyes shifted across the message in the card, her lips tightened and a scowl engulfed her face.

  Robert reached for the card in a panic. “Here, give me that, it’s from a friend. She’s a bit crazy. She’s called Vera.”

  Raven held the card out of his grasp. “Don’t insult me!”

  “Darling, it’s true.”

  “Vera, you say? A friend you say?”

  Robert appeared to look at the ceiling for inspiration. “Well, I was going to keep this a secret, but—I’ve been going to amateur dramatics lessons. We’re doing a modern take on Romeo and Juliet and well—it’s just her idea of a joke. I told you, she’s a bit wacko.” He tapped his temple.

  Raven, unflinching, stared him down. “I don’t believe you. I’ve never heard anything quite so ridiculous in my life.”

  He reached out to pull her into a hug.

  “Get off me!” She slapped his shoulder, over and over.

  He caught hold of her hand and gently moved it down to her side. “Darling, come on, you’re beginning to hurt, now. Don’t you think you’re overreacting, just a tiny bit?”

  “Overreacting?” Raven seethed. “I’ll show you overreacting.” She took out her wand.

  Robert stepped back and raised his hands. “Don’t go doing anything you’ll regret! Put that thing away, will you, before—”

  Raven ignored his protests, beginning to mumble in some ancient tongue. Part way through, she paused, and looked up at the ceiling as if trying to remember. When the thought came to her, she grinned and continued her chanting, clapping her hands, and then—a flash.

  Robert looked confused. His eyes darted around the room. A meow pulled his gaze to the floor. Raven had turned herself into a cat. At the sight of his feline girlfriend, Robert doubled over into hysterics. He turned bright red, laughing so much that he could barely breathe.

  He stood there for a moment, watching the cat scamper around the room. Then, it slowly dawned on him that she wasn’t going to turn back and his expression changed to one of concern.

  He bent down to gently stroke her back but the fur stood on end. She arched her back and hissed, daring him to make another move.

  Reaching out again, he tenderly stroked the side of her face. Unfortunately, this didn’t appease her for long. Robert watched as she scurried out of the room, leaving the flat through the window.

  Robert, now looking like a broken man trudged back to the couch. Dropping his face into his hands, he began to cry. The entire room echoed with the sound of his sobs. A stream of tears trickled out through his fingers, and droplets fell to the floor, forming a dark patch by his feet.

  In the present, Cliff peered into the vortex. “Tell you what, things are not looking too clever for Raven.”

  Scarlett shook her head, her expression just as forlorn as Robert’s had been. “No, they’re not.” She perked up. “But it could be worse.”

  Cliff looked intrigued. “How?”

  “Because, she didn’t kill him, did she?”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “He was alive when she left and that gives us a shred of hope. Something to cling to.”

  Cliff nodded. “Yeah, well there is that. And I tell you something else, too.”

  “What?” Scarlett didn’t sound too hopeful.

  “There isn’t much stabbing she can do while in cat form, is there?”

  Her face lit up. “No. No there isn’t.”

  Scarlett wiped her glistening eyes with the back of her hand, looked through the window and smiled. It was funny how her emotions had gone from the pit of despair one minute, to elation the next. Had Cliff not been present, she might well have felt too dejected to continue.

  “Look,” Cliff whispered, nodding to the vortex of smoke. “There’s more.”

  The woman they’d seen earlier had now resurfaced. “Hi,” she said, sitting beside Robert on the couch, putting her hand on his thigh.

  Robert flinched and moved away.

  The woman look confused. “Babe, what’s with you?”

  Robert shrugged, sending another flood of tears pouring down his face.

  “What is it? Why are you crying?” She put her arm around his shoulder and tried to pull him toward her, like a mother to a child.

  Robert pulled free. “It’s—Raven.”

  Her compassionate expression shifted into rage. She screwed up her nose, took a deep breath and clenched her jaws together. “Raven has gone has she? Well, good riddance, that’s what I say.”

  Robert shook his head.

  “But, darling, don’t you see what this means? It means we’re in the clear. We can be together, get things out in the open, and go public at last.”

  He rose to his feet. “Vixen, I think you’d better go.” He marched towards the door. “Leave me alone.”

  Vixen didn’t seem to hear him. “What about me? Do you think it was a bed of roses for me, to watch you two all cozied up like that? Did you ever stop to think about what I want?”

  “I did, Vixen, but—”

  She pulled out a rather ornate-looking knife.

  Robert stood back, waving his arms in front of him. “Now, come on, don’t take this too far. I’m sure we can sort things out. I was in shock. Come to think of it, seeing you now like this, I can see things differently, I—”

  “Oh, save it, will you?” She thrust the knife toward him, holding it inches from his stomach.

  Robert eyed the knife and took another step back. “Put that thing down, will you?”

  Vixen scowled. “No. It’s too late for all that. Your excuses mean nothing. Every word that comes out of your mouth is a lie.”

  “But you wouldn’t want me to die, would you?”

  “No, I don’t want you to die.” Her expression softened. “I love you, why would I want to kill you?”

  “Well, what then? Why are you waving the knife around?!”

  “Let’s make a blood pact.”

  “A what now?”

  “A blood pact, Robert. It’s the only way. It’s either this or die a bloody death.”

  Scarlett stepped back from the swirl of smoke, being careful to remain inside the circle of salt. Mouth gaping, she turned to Cliff, who was grinning and shaking his head.

  She smiled at Raven, who had moved forward to stand beside Cliff. “She’s insane Raven, you were right. You weren’t wrong about her being a bit obsessive.”

  Cliff sniggered. “A bit?”

  Raven ignored Cliff and looked up at Scarlett. “Yes, well I did try to tell you that before.”

  Before she could respond, something interesting took shape in the vortex.

  Robert leaned back as far as possible without taking a step. He shook his head. “No.”

  Vixen stamped her feet. “No? What do you mean, no?”

  “I mean, Vixen, you’re acting crazy and I’m not being party to this.” R
obert’s voice was firm. “I’m not doing it and that’s final.”

  Vixen glanced at the floor. “Well, if that’s how you feel. But, if only you knew how much I’ve been waiting, praying that this moment would arise. I just wanted to feel an unbreakable bond, like you were mine and I was yours forever.” Her face filled with rage. “But you didn’t want that. I wasn’t good enough for you. You never loved me at all did you?”

  Robert approached with caution. “No, that’s just not true. I loved you right from the first moment I—”

  Vixen’s eyes glazed over with fury. She was too far gone. “Everything you say is lies. I don’t trust you anymore, I can’t trust you.” She inhaled deeply, as if steeling her nerve. “I gave you a choice and you’ve made it.”

  “What do you mean?” He held his hand out for the knife, obviously worried that he was going to get his fingers cut off. “Come on, give me the knife.”

  “No.” She took a step closer and grinned. “No Robert, it’s too late. I gave you a choice and you made it. Now… ” Keeping the blade in line with his stomach, she pulled the knife back.

  Robert’s face was awash with panic. “No, no… ”

  “Take that!” She plunged the knife into his abdomen.

  Robert thrust his hand over the open wound and screamed. He fell to the couch as the blood from his wound leaked through his fingers, onto his shirt.

  Vixen stood nearby listening to him scream; grinning, mumbling and laughing as he writhed around in agony. His breaths grew shallow and increasingly sporadic until eventually, his head lolled to the side. Using all the strength he could muster, he opened his mouth to talk. “You crazy—”

  Vixen walked toward him, laughing. She came to a stop, bent over and shoved his shoulder.

  He turned his head to make eye contact, opened his mouth, but could only manage a gurgling sound.

  She pulled his phone from his pocket and held it tantalizingly above him. “Here, take the phone,” she taunted him. “Call for help. See if anyone believes a single word you say.”

  Robert reached out to take the phone, but his arm dropped and trailed along the front of the couch, fingertips grazing the floor.