9. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
W illow snuggled against Nate as they lay in front of the fire and mulled over the day’s events. Unable to resist, she helped herself to another segment of chocolate orange, relishing the smooth, silky texture followed by an explosion of citrus when it melted on her tongue. Another piece of heaven to add to a perfect day. The blazing flames warmed her skin while Nate traced a line from each flowering bruise on her hip to her arm and shoulder, as if connecting a surreal dot to dot. Considering how little she knew about him, it surprised her how easily he had dismantled the wall she had built around herself brick by brick over the years.
‘How did you find your Christmas at the Enchanted Emporium?’ she asked.
‘It was different to any others I’ve had before and I never expected to be seduced by a witch in a Rudolph jumper.’
‘It didn’t stay on for very long once they left,’ she replied, glancing at the discarded clothes scattered on the floor.
‘Amber doesn’t like me, trying to scare me off with that talk of ghosts which I know are not real. She’s probably at home practising her voodoo on me.’
‘She’s not that bad. You were a surprise, that’s all. She’s used to it being just me.’ Amber’s reaction and reluctance to stop interrogating Nate surprised Willow as she was usually laid-back. After dinner, Willow had nearly throttled the teenager when she asked whether Nate knew about the ghosts. Like her home, Willow felt a powerful desire to keep them secret, to protect them and herself. The last thing she needed was for the building to be included on the list of Britain’s most haunted properties. They were her secret to tell. She need not have worried; she discovered her apprentice had a natural flair for creepy storytelling worthy of Stephen King. Even the relatively docile Black Cat was embellished into a demonic creature, ready to attack strangers as they entered the store. She turned the truth into a fantastical tale no one would believe.
Nate poured out more wine, which Willow gulped down, reluctant to be drawn into a conversation about her spectral lodgers, especially as she was still reeling from the latest confrontation with Mrs Marley. Earlier, when Nate was in the shower, she’d turned on her phone, concerned with Amber’s vague comments of the photograph being viral. The air grew cold behind her.
‘Hussy,’ Mrs Marley whispered into her ear. A tirade of disgust at witnessing such disgraceful behaviour in the shop followed. The rant would have continued if it wasn’t for Mr Marley appearing. He coughed to attract his wife’s attention before stating, ‘July 1952.’ It became clear by Mrs Marley’s stuttering and the reddening of her near-translucent skin, Willow and Nate weren’t the only ones to have cast away their inhibitions and given in to lust on the shop floor. In a blink, both ghosts disappeared, the temperature returned, and the phone was forgotten.
‘Glenn’s okay though. You must have known him a long time,’ Nate said, interrupting her thoughts. She turned to face him.
‘I had known of him but only met him a couple of years ago.’
‘Only a couple of years? You seem closer than that.’
‘We met during a traumatic time. That makes people bond quicker, I guess. He was Louise, my best friend’s, husband. I was abroad when they met just after uni, but I received regular updates by post or, if I was in reach, by phone. While Lou was settling down, I packed up my rucksack to travel. It was only supposed to be for a year, but I caught the travelling bug so stayed on. I heard all about him, his quirks and loves, the house they had found. I didn’t even get back for their wedding, despite her asking me to be her bridesmaid.
‘Something I’ll always regret. I let her down and should have come home even for a flying visit, but she understood. She always did. By the time I came back, she was a mum. Amber was about four when I finally met her while I was visiting Marian. I should have stayed. I knew Louise needed me, but she insisted I returned to India—I had a life out there, friends, a job. Weeks later, she died in a freak accident, but I never knew until I came back to England years later. I was Louise’s witchy friend, hidden from view like a dirty secret.’
Willow paused and sipped her tea, remembering the shock and hurt of that day, thrust into grief but also a challenge that pushed her witchcraft ability to its limits. ‘Not that I blame her. She loved Glenn, but he was sceptical about magic, so she repressed her witch side to keep him and didn’t want me spilling any secrets. When he contacted me two years ago, Amber was critically ill. Louise’s fears about Amber’s strong magical powers consuming her when she became a teenager had come to fruition. They needed help, and I was determined not to let Louise down again. As you know, Glenn was an alcoholic. His grief had destroyed him. His relationship with Amber was non-existent. We became close while she was getting better.’
‘So Amber’s one of you?’ Nate stole the last segment of chocolate.
‘If you mean, is she a witch? Yes, she is—see, you’re learning how to spot us.’
‘Mmm, it’s hard not to recognise her as one since she is a Goth princess,’ he added.
‘Not all Goths are witches. Otherwise, Whitby would be awash with us at Goth weekend, and not all witches dress in black.’
‘I figured that one out—you don’t. So, it’s not just a business gimmick to attract customers?’
‘Is that what you thought? No, as I said before, this is who I am. I was born a witch, just as Louise and Amber were.’ It had taken Willow time to accept her heritage and more than once it had crossed her mind that as she stepped away from the shadows of denial, Louise stepped into them.
‘It’s a hereditary thing, then?’
‘Not always, but mainly,’ replied Willow.
‘And your mum was a witch,’ said Nate.
‘No,’ she whispered. Her heart sped, and it tugged a memory she knew would trigger an avalanche of emotion. She tensed and felt Nate look down at her.
‘You either take me as I am or leave,’ she bristled. The bricks scattered around her heart were being rebuilt by unseen hands. The bubble of bliss she experienced wobbled and threatened to burst at his disbelief.
‘Oh, I take it.’ Her muscles relaxed with his kiss. ‘You have bewitched me.’
Her body responded to his touch, and the taste of sweet smooth remnants of chocolate and wine. ‘I hope so but not in the way you think.’
***
Willow flung open the sash window, sending clumps of snow tumbling onto the shop’s bay roof below, creating a powder puff explosion. A blanket of pristine snow covered the courtyard, and she fought the childish urge to run down and be the first one to make patterns with her footprints, or maybe a snow angel. Black Cat materialised and glanced up, challenging her to say something, forgetting the canvas would remain untouched with his prowling. She grinned. With Vincent still sleeping, the snow was all hers.
‘Bloody hell! What are you doing?’ yelled Nate from under the duvet, pulling her backwards onto the bed. Stray snowflakes stuck to her hair. ‘It’s freezing!’
‘Well, it’s even colder now you have dragged me down here. The window is still open.’ She chuckled, thrusting her chilly hands onto his warm chest.
‘You’re evil.’ He grabbed her hands. ‘Or is this your way of saying you need warming up? Hang on—you’re dressed.’
‘Yes, I’m going out—are you coming?’
‘It’s Boxing Day, time to recover from yesterday’s excesses and relax.’ Nate snuggled back into the bed. As tempting as it was to undress and slip beside him, the lure of the outside won.
‘Later. Come on.’ She whipped off the duvet and appreciated his naked body before leaving him to swear.
***
A deep row of people bundled up in their winter coats and hats gathered along the harbour wall, looking down at the beach below. The air buzzed with anticipation and chatter. Holding his hand, Willow weaved their way through the crowds until they reached the top of a slipway. She handed him her rucksack. His eyes widened as she shrugged off her coat and stripped to reveal a close-fitting black wetsuit. She rummaged in the bag to retrieve a bent and creased witch’s hat.
‘What the hell?’ he muttered.
With a peck on his cheek, she placed it on her head and was gone.
Nate squeezed himself into a gap along the wall and shook his head at the surreal scene unfolding below. Despite the snow-laden clouds, people in various forms of fancy dress jogged up and down. With the loud klaxon and cheer rising around him, he caught sight of her pointed hat overtaking a large orange octopus as the medley of animals, book and movie characters, and more seasoned swimmers ran laughing across the beach into the incoming waves. Squeals rose above the roar of the sea when the first ones hit the water.
He watched the lone witch swerve past a lumbering T-Rex to run into the crashing waves with her arms stretched wide. His heart stopped when a pack of dinosaurs joined their friend, obscuring his view. Once they dispersed, she was nowhere to be seen. It jolted back to life when she materialised from the water clutching the drowned hat and it warmed at the sight of the pure delight on her face. Nate knew it was time to go home.
***
Fully dressed, Willow climbed down from the makeshift changing room in a coach to search for Nate in the crowd. Someone passed her a mug of soup. Grateful for the warmth, she thanked them and recognised him as a local trader. ‘You’re causing a bit of mayhem, aren’t you?’
‘Pardon?’ Her teeth chattered together.
‘I guess it’s one way of getting customers. Send them over to us, will you, when you are done? Or I’ll have to buy one of your wish candles the missus keeps harping about,’ he joked before turning to talk to someone else. Confused, Willow continued her search.
A teenager ran up to her. ‘Is it true? Does Clara really get love potions from you?’
She didn’t reply. Every concern and question disappeared when she spied Nate in the distance, and he strolled towards her.
‘That is the craziest thing I have seen. Why would you or any of them do it? It’s freezing! There is snow on the ground, and more is about to fall.’
‘It makes you feel alive and raises money for charity. I should have taken you with me.’
He shook his head. ‘No way. Does this happen every year?’
She nodded. ‘As far as I know. The first time I did it was for a dare with Louise. We both dressed up as witches. Later it became my tradition.’
‘She made a big impact on you.’ Nate draped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to stop her from shivering. They circumvented the bustling crowds and walked towards the swing bridge.
‘She was the sister I never had. She made me believe in myself and brought me into the real world instead of hiding my magic. Magic always made my mum uncomfortable, and my stepfather hated it. It became a forbidden topic at home. She helped me see it was okay. It would have been her birthday today.’
‘Amber never joins you?’
‘No. She has her own way to connect and remember her mum.’ They’d approached the entrance to Black Cat Alley when Willow heard a familiar rumble of wheels on a shopping trolley and shuffle of feet. Beaming, she waited for the elderly lady bundled up in a bobble hat and coat.
‘Mrs Ramsey, what are you doing out in this weather?’ Willow asked.
‘I just needed to check whether that young journalist caught up with you?’ she said.
‘Journalist?’ Willow paled. A chill gripped her heart, squeezing it tight.
‘Yes, dear. Someone must have told him I knew you because he phoned trying to find out all about you and the store. Something about a love potion. Don’t worry, I said he was mistaken, and I didn’t know you, but thought you’d better know.’ She patted Willow’s hand and nodded at Nate before shuffling back down the street.