Being a Witch, and Other Things I Didn't Ask For

by Sara Pascoe

  ‘I wish they could understand me,’ Raya said to Bryony as they found a place at a fountain and started splashing themselves.

  ‘That should happen, too. Usually takes a little longer. Oh, that feels so good. I am so tired of being filthy,’ Bryony said.

  ‘Yeah, me too.’

  ‘Oo, this marble is heated,’ Oscar said as he jumped up on top of one of the fountains, closing his eyes in the warm spray misting over him. Raya made a face at the oddly water loving cat.

  ‘We need him,’ Bryony whispered, covered by the sounds of water and women’s voices bouncing against polished stone.

  Women of all ages, shapes, and sizes splashed themselves with water and chatted. A few young ones paraded around as though they were showing off.

  ‘The cat? What for?’ Raya asked as she let hot water from a fountain pummelled her shoulders.

  Bryony leaned against the fountain and closed her eyes. ‘With his microchip, he helps us transmit back to headquarters – like a Wi-Fi booster. And we’ll need their help to get back.’

  Just then, the topless woman who had taken their horrid clothes came over and told them it was time to go to the next room.

  Raya and Bryony clomped on their wooden clogs through the archway into the second room, a vast octagon. Beams of light, like gentle blue-tinged spotlights, shined from a circle of skylights in the domed ceiling high above their heads. Steam made the whole thing look soft. Women were lying on a large stone platform in the centre of the room, right under the shafts of light. Attendants and servants worked on the women, scrubbing, kneading, flipping them over and doing it all over again, like so many blobs of dough.

  Oscar had followed them in. He hunched by their feet, ears flat against his head.

  ‘Maybe this is too much moisture for me after all.’ His tail twitched and he eyed the door.

  Bryony sat on the edge of the stone platform and patted the space beside her. ‘Come on, I’ve seen you take a warm bath at home.’

  ‘That’s true.’ He could hardly keep his eyes open, he looked so tired, but managed to jump up. There was a familiarity between them Raya hadn’t noticed before. Bryony scratched him under his chin.

  Raya looked around for an empty spot on the marble slab. Bryony lay face down on hers. Children played and larked about nearby. There was a collective hum from the conversations, punctuated by laughter that ricocheted against the marble surfaces.

  Some of the attendants appeared to be private servants. Women were getting waxed and plucked, their hair dyed. This was civilized. One of the attendants started working on Bryony, soaping her up all over her back.

  An attendant not much older than Raya encouraged her onto a space as a woman vacated it. The young woman started soaping Raya’s back when Oscar jumped up next to her. The attendant asked Raya if she wanted them to wash the cat for her. He was filthy, matted and reeked. ‘Oh, why not?’ Oscar told Raya. She nodded to the attendant, then another young woman wrapped him in a cloth and took him away. Raya sank into the experience. It was wonderful. After soaping her up, the attendant put on a rough mitt and started rubbing. It felt like something between a loofa and sandpaper. Her slight gasps just made the attendant giggle without letting up. Raya soon got used to it. She certainly could use it after her adventures in filth.

  * * *

  ‘Look at the poor thing. I bet she’s worried about that son of hers,’ a pretty woman said. She was in her late thirties with long dark hair, like most of the women. She was talking to a younger version of herself, probably her daughter, who looked not much older than Raya.

  ‘Go on, give her some hope,’ the mum said and nodded towards an older woman who was having her hair coloured.

  The daughter smirked, waved away her servant and hopped off the slab. She strutted, absolutely starkers in front of the older woman, who didn’t look particularly worried about anything. Meanwhile, the mother got off the slab and walked behind her daughter with two servants in tow. The mum made a show of being surprised to come across the older woman.

  ‘Well, hello there, Macide. How lovely to bump into you here,’ the mother said. The mother and Macide went on to talk about whether Macide might consider the young woman a suitable match for her son. Macide dismissed the idea, but the mother persisted. Raya could see the daughter talking with her friends. She knew the type: people who thought their good luck was their doing, and that people with bad luck deserved it.

  Raya suddenly felt a pang in her guts. The kebab had caught up with her. She needed a toilet. Now. Raya dashed out of the main room, down a short hall, to what appeared to be a bathroom. Inside, there was a marble bench with a series of holes. Water flowed below. Much better than what 1645 England had to offer.

  On her return, she passed Strutting Girl gossiping to her friends.

  ‘Like we’d ever consider that horrible son of hers for marriage. I mean puh-lease.’ The girl did an imitation of a man limping. All three girls collapsed with laughter. Raya returned to her spot on the warm marble platform, her attendant waiting. She finished the scrub then gave Raya a sarong-like cloth to wrap herself in and guided her through another archway into a third room.

  And what a room it was. Here the women seemed to be relaxing after all that other relaxing and being washed. The posh ones with servants were obvious now. They lay back on cushioned couches, wrapped in warm robes while they were served treats. Attendants sprayed perfume, offered scented oils, and make-up. Wow – this was the life.

  Raya was led to a couch and attendants came around offering little drinks in small metal cups on big metal trays, sweets she didn’t recognize but was certainly willing to try, and then the best, coffee.

  ‘Not bad, eh?’ Bryony plonked down next to her on the couch. ‘I’ve been trying to get in touch with IHQ, but nothing yet.’

  Raya sipped the strong coffee from a little porcelain cup and saucer. Even better than the best coffee back home.

  An attendant walked up to them with a folded cloth with a cat’s head sticking out. She placed Oscar on the couch between Raya and Bryony. He had a bow around his neck. The attendant left.

  ‘It’s not funny. Take it off,’ Oscar said.

  Raya was about to say something smart, but Bryony caught her eye, reminding her they needed the cat, so she shut her mouth and undid the bow.

  ‘May I read your coffee cup?’ a fully dressed woman asked.

  ‘Umm, no thanks,’ Bryony answered forgetting they wouldn’t understand her. She shook her head and the woman moved off.

  ‘Read mine, please.’ It was Strutting Girl. She and her mother were sitting on a couch behind theirs. The coffee reader went to her, inspected the cup, returned it to the girl with the saucer on top, and told her to make a wish. The girl murmured something then turned the cup round a few times before turning it upside down. The coffee reader nodded her approval and said she would return in a few minutes when the cup was ready.

  ‘Oh, I can’t wait to find out about my future. I wonder if I’ll become rich and famous,’ she said.

  ‘More like you’ll be a mean old cow, just like your mum. You’ve got a good start,’ Raya said under her breath.

  The room erupted in laughter, the women all looked at Raya, many with approval.

  ‘Didn’t I say that in English? What’s going on?’ Raya head-talked to Bryony.

  ‘Nope. Not English. Your ability to speak must have come on.’

  ‘Well, a little warning would have been nice!’ Raya fumed.

  The mum summoned one of the attendants and insisted Bryony and Raya and their horrid pet be removed at once. It seemed this mother-daughter duo were not well-liked, but for whatever reason people didn’t seem to think they could stand up to them. The attendant was doing her best imitation of looking ‘dreadfully sorry’, and promised to ‘take care of the problem at once’.

  ‘Nice – a few hours in a new place and you’ve got us our first ban – from the baths no less. Good work, Raya,’ Oscar added in.

 
‘We’ve got bigger problems, Oscar – like where to stay and how to survive. Don’t you think?’ Bryony retorted.

  Raya thought it was sweet Bryony was defending her against a cat. But any warm and fuzzy feelings ebbed away with the reality Bryony’s words underscored – once again she had nowhere to go, and no way to get food – none of them did.

  Raya accepted the neatly tied bundle of clothes from the attendant and dressed as quickly as she could given all the items these outfits entailed. The young attendant briefly met Raya’s gaze. It said, ‘I’m ever so sorry, but my hands are tied.’

  The mother and daughter she’d insulted glared at them. The rest of the bathers and attendants had fallen into an uncomfortable silence, moving around like guilty ghosts.

  ‘Where’re we going?’ Raya said.

  ‘I don’t know.’ She fussed over the girl and straightened her veil. ‘I’m a witch, not a fortune teller.’

  Raya looked sullen.

  ‘Relax – it’s a joke. Come on, we’re alive, that’s the best surprise.’

  Raya fought sudden tears, her anger giving away to fear. ‘I’m scared, Bryony. What if I… we can’t ever get home?’

  Bryony looked right into Raya’s eyes, put her hands on her shoulders.

  ‘Raya, you’ve got terrific natural talent. I know you can learn to control your powers. I’ll teach you – I promise.’ That scared her even more, that their getting back home might depend on Bryony’s skills in any form. She turned away and locked down her thoughts.

  ‘Come on you two, time to make a move,’ Oscar said.

  All eyes were on them as they were escorted out of this wonderful place. Raya wondered if Oscar was right and they were now banned – she certainly hoped not.

  Macide stood next to the door. Raya blushed with fresh embarrassment. Then, wham – Raya was sprawled on the floor. She must have tripped. Darn these long dresses. Macide helped her up and whispered, ‘Follow the road to the Grand Bazaar and I’ll catch up with you.’

  Raya stumbled out with Bryony, and Oscar at their sides. They retraced their steps towards the market.

  A hundred or so yards down the road, Macide reappeared and led them onto a larger road then disappeared into an archway into what looked like some kind of compound. It was surrounded by a pink masonry wall. Beyond the wall were balconied buildings in more of the pink stucco. Macide turned and gave them the briefest look and nod, before disappearing again.

  Raya stopped before she entered the archway. ‘You sure this is OK?’ Raya asked the adult witch, despite her misgivings about Bryony’s abilities.

  ‘Oh, right. Sorry. My reading of it says she’s absolutely fine, but go on – have a go yourself. And two minds are always better than one.’

  ‘What?’ Raya said.

  ‘You know – like Pavel had been teaching you.’

  ‘Oh,’ Raya said, a bit surprised not having realised those skills could be applied here. She relaxed and thought of Macide, and at the same time did her slowed breathing, emptied her mind of random thoughts – or more realistically, didn’t pay attention to them. She saw Macide in the baths in her mind’s eye and replayed what she remembered. Then she felt cosy and smelled Ian’s wonderful vegetarian chilli, heard the bell jingle above the door. Raya relaxed and smiled. ‘I’m getting associations with being at the Cosmic Cafe – I saw Ian, he was making a big pot of his veggie chilli. I could even smell it – gave me a warm, safe feeling with it. So that tells me Macide and her offer are OK?’ She felt a little funny asking Bryony for reassurance.

  Bryony smiled, ‘Yes, exactly. Come on, let’s not keep her waiting.’

  They entered the archway, but didn’t get very far. A man stood at the other end and halted the trio.

  ‘I’m sorry, but we don’t accommodate women. Try the Sufi centre down the road. They might have some ideas.’

  Macide bustled up to the guard. ‘I’m ever so sorry. I had to get a few things ready, didn’t have time to tell you. These are our cousins, on my beloved husband’s side of the family, may he rest in peace. They’ll be staying in our personal family quarters.’

  The guard bowed to Bryony and Raya. ‘I do apologise, I hadn’t been informed.’ He arched an eyebrow at Macide.

  Raya barely heard any of this as she walked out into the large courtyard. It was green and luscious with a tree in the middle, shading another one of those fancy cube-shaped stone fountains. These people sure liked their flowing water. A man was collecting some in a leather bucket. She heard a faint whinny. A horse stood in a stable on the ground floor, looking out at the man getting the water. Other animals stood in the stalls, including a few camels.

  The balconies ran along all sides of the building above the stables, overlooking the courtyard. Men in various long robes and turbans sat on their balconies, presumably in front of their rooms. Some smoked, others sipped from small cups. One snored in a chair.

  Bryony and Macide were talking, or rather, pantomiming. Macide acted out eating, then sleeping, then working – washing dishes, shaking and folding cloth – doing laundry. Raya looked on and voiced the last part. Macide laughed.

  ‘Of course, you speak Turkish, I momentarily forgot. I gather you are from another land. I know what that’s like. Especially as a woman without family here. We’d be happy to provide you accommodation in trade for some help.’

  ‘If you’re sure?’ Raya said. She was still taken aback by all this kindness towards strangers – it made her a little wary.

  Bryony watched the conversation; she seemed to be reading body language and likely any thoughts she could pick up. Raya and Bryony followed Macide who moved rather quickly for being so old, Raya thought. They went up one of two sets of stairs at the back of the courtyard, then along one length of the balcony towards the front of the building to the door third from the end. It looked like an old-fashioned hotel room, except that the furnishings were much nicer and more interesting. There were two wooden stools and a small table, a couple of brightly coloured oil lamps, like she’d seen hanging in the bazaar, and equally colourful bedding on two beds with loads of pillows. Macide needlessly adjusted things then unlocked an interior door that led into what looked like quite a large flat.

  ‘In good time, we will show you your role here. But tonight, you are our guests. After you settle in, please join me and my son Abbas for something to eat,’ Macide said. ‘And don’t worry, your cat will eat well, too, with all the cat dinner ladies around here.’

  ‘Pardon me?’ Raya said.

  ‘Twice a day, women come out with freshly cooked food and feed all the cats,’ Macide said.

  ‘Really?’ Raya said.

  ‘Well hello, mister, and how do you do!’ Oscar said.

  ‘See, something in it for you too – sticking around,’ Bryony said.

  ‘It’s one way to give zakat, to do charitable works – one of the things required by Islam,’ Macide said.

  ‘I’m converting,’ Oscar said.

  ‘Macide started towards her flat. She paused before disappearing. ‘Come right in through this door, no need to knock.’

  * * *

  Raya took her veil off and flopped down on the bed.

  Bryony checked to make sure the door between their room and Macide’s apartment was closed.

  Oscar settled next to Raya on the bed. Bryony sat down, stood up, opened the shutters then closed them halfway.

  ‘You OK?’ Raya asked. She obviously wasn’t.

  ‘Just a lot on my mind,’ Bryony said. Her smile was not reassuring. ‘Tell you what, why don’t you and Oscar have a little wander around our new neighbourhood?’ Bryony said. ‘I want to try transmitting to IHQ.’

  ‘Don’t you need the cat?’

  ‘I’m right here, you know.’

  ‘As long as he’s within about half a mile, his microchip boosts the signal.’

  ‘We won’t go far. Will they send someone to get us back home?’ Raya’s question was innocent – genuine, but the adult witch bristled.


  ‘No, I just need some info, that’s all. So we know what we’re working with.’

  Raya shrugged, tied her veil back on and left with Oscar. Girl and cat squinted in the dazzle of the sinking sun. The warmth was welcome after her stint in cold, old England. They walked the length of the balcony, down the stairs and across the green courtyard. Two men worked in the garden, trimming things and sweeping the paths. They nodded to Raya. Oscar found a discreet spot under a bush to relieve himself and reappeared as the calls of the cat feeders started: ‘Kedi et, kedi et – cat food.’

  ‘Good evening, sir. My cat and I would like to take a walk. We’ll be back shortly,’ Raya said.

  The gatekeeper furrowed his eyebrows, cocked his head. ‘You’re not from Istanbul, are you? Young women don’t usually go out unaccompanied here. Does Miss Macide approve?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, of course. My cat was hoping to find a meal.’

  ‘In that case, take a left out of gate, go to the first break in the wall and turn left again. You’ll come across lots back there,’ he said and gestured towards the exit.

  Raya and Oscar quickly found themselves in a system of alleyways behind the buildings. Women, mostly old, called again and again, ‘Kedi et, kedi et’, and ladled food from pots. Cats ran from all directions.

  ‘Well, you better get in there if you want anything,’ Raya said. Lamb stew wafted their way and he was off.

  ‘You know your way back? I’m going back to lie down before dinner,’ Raya called out. Oscar nodded and Raya started back towards the han. She heard a couple of cat yowls and glanced over her shoulder. A double-wide cat was not pleased with Oscar’s arrival – nothing he couldn’t handle. A woman in a long black dress and veil ladled food into a number of bowls, admonishing the cats to share.

  * * *

  Raya walked back to the inn. The gatekeeper nodded. She now felt how very tired she was. She trudged up the steps and back to their room and was about to knock before she picked up Bryony’s transmission to headquarters.