Chapter 21
“ T here you are!”
Lucinda jumped out of her skin as Gwendoline appeared at her back. It wasn’t like Mrs Matherson to teleport to see her.
“You frightened me,” she exclaimed, dropping a pile of books on the front desk before she scorched them.
“I can see that. Our future High Priestess shouldn’t scare so easily,” Gwendoline said, eyeing Lucy’s unicorn slippers. The woman was practically see-through– an astral projection.
“What can I help you with, Gwendoline?” Lucy asked, switching her shoes beneath the desk. “I’m sure you’re busy, since you couldn’t come in person.”
“I was on my way to get my nails done when I got a text from your mum. I forgot to collect the binding cloaks this morning from Benedict. I thought you might be able to help; your mum wants to get started on tailoring them as soon as possible. What with all that’s going on with the changes to the festival – an excellent idea to change the layout, by the way. I knew you and Benedict would make an exquisite team. Though I will try not to take too much credit.” Gwendoline winked.
“I can pick them up after we close,” Lucy said, fidgeting with her ring behind her back, careful to keep it out of Gwendoline’s sight. She wondered why her mum was in a rush to get everything for the binding organised. Maybe she wanted it out of the way so they could focus on the upcoming festival.
“I knew you wouldn’t hesitate to help! Wouldn’t want you covered in dusty cloaks on your special day.” You could only really count on a Matherson to smile when they got their way.
It was customary for the woman to wear the cloak of the male line, though Lucy would have preferred to wear the Hawthorne cloak her mother had worn on the day she was anointed as High Priestess. It’d be more traditional, if not slightly archaic, to wear the Matherson cloak, so it was what the coven would be expecting.
“I would’ve asked Benedict to drop them off, but he had some mess to clean up, I don’t know. I did ask him to dig them out of the attic,” Gwendoline went on, speaking a mile a minute. Lucy wondered if the mess was the destroyed cake; she wished she’d cleaned it up for him before she’d left.
“It’s no trouble,” she said, hoping to move on.
“I can’t wait to see you both in Matherson navy. Your mum is magic with the sewing machine. It will be so lovely to see Benedict in the Matherson cloak. He’ll be the last to use them in our line, you know. Unless you have any children.” Gwendoline’s voice turned sad.
Lucy pictured herself in the deep navy cloaks she’d seen in photos, the M over her heart. She’d never thought of giving up her surname if the binding went ahead; she wondered if Benedict would expect it of her. That would mean that even if she became the High Priestess, it would still be two Mathersons at the head of the table. Her mum had kept her name, but that was because Dad was a magless. Lucy wasn’t sure which made her palms sweat more – the idea of becoming a Matherson, or the thought of having Benedict’s kids. Both made her head spin. They were still learning to cope with each other’s company, never mind the pressures of the future being added to their shoulders.
“I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves. If we make it to the binding in one piece, that will be enough,” she laughed.
Gwendoline offered a sympathetic smile. “One step at a time.”
On her way to the manor to pick up the cloaks, Lucy savoured the fresh air. Her conversation with Gwendoline had forced her to think of what being bound would really mean. They would live together, work together. People would expect them to continue the new line of Mathersons. She wasn’t sure if she could do it.
She twisted the ring on her finger. If he was willing to try, then she wasn’t going to be the first to falter.
A couple of school kids brushed past her as they left Stoker’s, and Lucy noticed a pumpkin pie in the window. Benedict’s favourite. Maybe she could get some as a small way of saying thank you for last night.
Faye waved through the window from behind the counter. Lucy took it as a sign and went inside, happy to see her old school friend. Faye rarely worked out front, or during the day for that matter.
“Hey – sorry I haven’t texted you. I wanted to congratulate you on your binding.” Faye beamed, taking Lucy’s hands. Lucy noted that she was wearing long sleeves, and that she pulled back quickly.
“No worries at all. You really don’t have to be sorry,” Lucy said quickly, not wanting Faye to feel like she’d noticed anything. “The situation between me and Benedict is rather complicated.”
“When Ian told me, I didn’t believe it. I remember when you flooded his locker!”
Faye had cut her hair short, cropped just below her ear. It suited her, and it was a sign that things were going better. The last time they’d hung out, she’d used her hair to cover the bruises.
The memory made Lucy’s hands sizzle, and she removed them from the wooden counter just in case.“I forgot about that,” she admitted. She couldn’t even remember why she’d wanted to flood it.
“In fairness, he did light your hockey stick on fire.” There it was.
“I wouldn’t have minded so much if the coach hadn’t given me detention.” Lucy had hated hockey and was terrible at it, but Foxford Prep had a mandatory sports policy for the first three years. Supposedly, it helped the students manage their stress so nobody accidentally used their element and destroyed the school.
“We were so close back then.” Faye’s smile faded. Lucy wished they hadn’t drifted apart. She blamed Ian for isolating her. Faye and Ian had married right after school, and he wasn’t the kind of man she wanted for her friend. Or anybody.
“We’re still close. You can stop by the house or the library whenever you like,” she said cheerfully.
“If I could ever get the time. Now, what can I get for you?” Faye asked, returning to the cheery version of herself she put on for customers.
“Pumpkin pie,” Lucy ordered.
“You hate pumpkin!” Faye exclaimed, reaching into the front window to wrap up the freshly prepared pie.
“It’s not for me,” she admitted. Hopefully Benedict wouldn’t think she was being presumptive, just turning up with a pie, but she reminded herself that Gwendoline had given her a mission. She couldn’t believe she was looking for excuses to see him.
“I suspected as much.” Faye boxed it up with a gold ribbon.
Lucy didn’t know what to say. “I saw Luisa and Harriet for the Autumn Equinox. They asked what you were up to, and I said you might join us next time.”
Faye stilled. “A pity I missed them, but maybe next time.”
It was always next time, and Lucy knew better than to ask why. Working out front in the shop meant Faye was gaining confidence. Lucy didn’t want her friend to hide again to escape the questions those who loved her wanted to ask.
“How is Ian?” she asked quietly, afraid of being shut down. “Rosie mentioned he’s working in the Clover pub now?”
Ian had had more jobs than most in Foxford. He couldn’t keep one to save his life, and if he hadn’t been of magical descent, he would’ve been kicked out of the town long ago. Not that the coven hadn’t tried, but when it became clear that he would take Faye with him, they’d all silently agreed that it was best to endure him for her sake.
Avoiding Lucy’s gaze, Faye went to the till. “He’s the same. Works long hours, which keeps him away from home, and then he’s usually asleep during the day, but he loves it,” she said.
Lucy tried to conceal her relief. Ian being away from home was great news. “I’m glad things are better.”
“They are, at least for now. I don’t know what Ian would’ve done if Benedict hadn’t got him that job. I only got to thank him the other day,” Faye said gratefully.
“Benedict found him the job?” Lucy struggled to hide her surprise. Benedict had voted for Ian to be banished from the town. She didn’t know why he’d go out of his way to help Ian after being so vocal about his banishment. In fact, it’d been one of the few things they’d agreed upon.
“After the last incident, no one would hire him. I don’t know what Ian would’ve done if he hadn’t put in a good word for him,” Faye said, hope dancing in her eyes.
Lucy wished she cared more for herself than the man who’d hurt her for years. It had started a few months after Faye’s wedding; shouts and breaking glass had been heard late at night from their cottage on the edge of town. Lucinda had tried to intervene by telling her mum about the bruises she’d seen, though Faye had brushed it off as nothing. As High Priestess, and a concerned mum, Wilhelmina had tried to counsel Faye, but it hadn’t made a difference. Since then, the job at the bakery had at least given her some independence– a job Wilhelmina had convinced Ian to let Faye accept.
“We all would’ve done anything to keep you in town,” Lucy said, grateful to Benedict for helping when no one else could.
“At least I got to pay him back in a small way,” Faye said, making an iced tea. Lucy hadn’t ordered one, but Faye knew it was her favourite.
“Pay him back?” Lucy frowned.
Faye hesitated as she added a lemon slice to the cup. “Oh – I wasn’t supposed to say.”
Lucy hated the idea of her friend keeping a secret from her, especially if it was a secret about Benedict. She’d only started to trust him.
“Don’t look so worried! It’s nothing that concerns you. In fact, it’s rather silly. I don’t know why he doesn’t want me to tell you.” Faye shrugged, adding to Lucy’s curiosity. “He was probably embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed? Now I’m really worried,” Lucy said, leaning across the counter.
“It was nothing. He was stranded with his brother, Peter, on the side of the road between here and Willow Valley. They were covered in mud, like they’d been wrestling in it.”
“When was this?” Lucy asked.
“A week ago, more or less?” Faye shrugged.
Lucy remembered the meeting he’d missed after they’d tried to redo the potion. Was Peter the reason he hadn’t come to the meeting? But what were they doing in the road, and if they were covered in mud, probably in the woods? She really hoped he hadn’t been up to anything dangerous.
Faye distracted her from her thoughts. “I can see your mind spinning.”
Lucy shook off her questioning gaze. “Like you said, it was probably nothing. Who are we to question what they get up to?” Still, curiosity ate at her. She couldn’t ask Benedict without revealing that Faye had broken her promise to him.
“Could we keep it between us?” her friend asked nervously. “I don’t want him to think I was gossiping, after all he’s done to help.”
“Of course! I won’t say a word.” If Benedict wanted to tell her about his stroll in the woods with Peter, he would. There was no reason to think the incident had anything to do with her or their element. She hoped. “Stop by Hawthorne House whenever you want. Grams would love some company, and we have too many empty rooms.” She kept her voice low, just in case a friend of Ian’s was close by.
Faye hesitated. “Ian’s going to visit some of his extended family in the mountains next month. No outsiders allowed. I might stop by, for a night or two.”
Lucy rested her hand over Faye’s. It killed her not to be able to help more. The frustration made her want to light the counter or Ian on fire. But Faye had to decide to leave on her own.
“Stay as long as you want. We’re always here when you need us. Grams would love an excuse to cook a feast.” Lucy added a tenner to the tip jar and took the wrapped-up pie to the counter.
“Grams does make the best pot roast!” Faye pulled her sleeves over her hands. She was definitely hiding something.
“Rosie and I tend to go to the Dragon’s Inn for brunch on Sunday, if you want to join us.”
Faye’s eyes shifted away. “I might have to work.”
Lucy didn’t want to push her luck. “We’ll be there anyway, and we’ll save you a seat in case you can make it. No pressure.”
“Maybe next time.”
Lucy only made it a few steps down the street when Faye rushed up behind her.
“I hope you and Benedict are happy,” she blurted out, then looked over her shoulder, as though afraid she would be heard talking about another man. The fear in her eyes stabbed at Lucy’s heart. “He helped me, before. I think we were wrong about him at school.” Faye gave her a quick hug before being called back inside by another worker.
Lucy watched her through the window for a moment, but drops of rain fell onto the box, and she hurried along. She didn’t want to deliver a soggy pie when she had questions that needed answering.