41. Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-One
W illow’s head throbbed as she tipped the herbs into the simmering cauldron. The intoxicating smell turned her stomach. Maybe this wasn’t the wisest choice of stock production, but at least she was away from the bright lights of the shop floor. How much did she drink last night? Time had blurred after she opened the second bottle of wine.
Despite her resolution on the train journey back from York to take control and stop hiding from Rafe, face the situation head-on, typing his name into the search engine proved too much. Heartache over Nate was bad enough without battering it further with images of Rafe. Defeated, she added Speedwell Cottage instead. Maybe luck would be on her side, but it refused to flag up any clues. Maybe it was as Louise once suggested and warded with protective spells that made it vanish soon after she last saw it.
A gentle knock on the workroom door interrupted her thoughts; Amber came in, gingerly closing it.
‘Hi. I wasn’t expecting you in today,’ Willow said.
‘I’m just passing by and thought you’d need this. Tea and a bacon butty are the perfect hangover food according to Dad and he should know. I brewed the tea myself; I hope it helps. Are you okay?’
‘Apart from a horrendous hangover? Yes, I am. Well, I will be. This will help, I’m sure. Thank you. I’m sorry if I scared you yesterday. It was a bit of a shock.’
Amber shrugged, brushing the apology away. ‘Anyway, I’d better go. Dad says can you meet him at Monique’s at seven?’
‘Monique’s? Are you sure? Why would he want to meet there?’
‘Dunno, maybe making sure you eat. I’m just the messenger. Enjoy.’ She left before Willow asked for more. She must have misheard. Monique’s was the newly opened restaurant famed for fine dining and its romantic setting, not a place she considered Glenn suggesting, especially in the current situation. The last thing she wanted to see were couples gushing over each other. If Glenn was insistent she eat, fish and chips on the harbour would suffice.
Her appetite woke with the tantalising aroma of bacon and the nausea faded with every bite. It really was the best hangover cure. Willow smiled, picking up the teacup Amber had chosen; decorated with yellow roses, it symbolised hope. It was a relief to see Amber taking an active role in blending again and using her natural flair for herbs. If this tea soothed her broken heart, it could be a hit brew in the summer when holiday flings came to an abrupt end. She stirred the liquid, breathing in the aroma. What had she used? Chamomile, of course, raspberry, interesting. Willow picked out each ingredient. There was something else, a very subtle mint fragrance. Vincent bounded onto the bench, nudging the cup.
‘No. Vince, you’re not allowed up here. Shoo.’ She forced him onto the floor, but he returned again and again.
‘What’s up with you?’
She took another sip, detecting a hint of catnip, and glanced at her cat. Catnip? It did have calming qualities useful in tea, but something niggled about the combination of flavours. A forgotten conversation between Willow and Lou at uni about her excessive use of raspberry came forth.
‘Everyone loves raspberry. It’s useful to disguise magic and tastes you’d rather people didn’t know about,’ Louise explained when faced with Willow’s complaints. If Amber had read Lou’s journals, it was a nugget of knowledge she would know and use. What was she hiding?
Willow took another whiff, digging deeper behind the ingredients, to the spell itself, the intent.
‘Oh Amber, tell me you didn’t?’
Rushing to the sink, Willow emptied her cup before she dialled Glenn’s number; she had to warn him not to drink or eat anything Amber had made. His phone went straight to voicemail, forcing her to leave a message and hope he listened to it in time.
***
Going out was the last thing Willow wanted to do. An evening in with more wine and a box set appealed more, but with the high possibility Amber had drugged Glenn with a love potion, she had no choice. There would be strong words with her apprentice when she saw her next about her misuse of spell work, however well intentioned. All day, Willow’s attempts to contact Glenn had failed. Who knew what damage the spell had caused between him drinking it and now? She only hoped Amber’s knack for potions meant her timing for it to activate was as meticulous as her blending skills.
She found Glenn sitting at a table near the window. A pleasant spot, it allowed diners to watch the activity on the street outside and suited her fine. Once seated, she could avoid the smooching or gooey-eyed couples around them. Who needed a love potion when the busy room buzzed with pheromones?
Glen rose from his chair before she could say hi, and he kissed her on the cheek before pulling out her chair. His eyes dilated. She didn’t need to ask if he’d received her message. The potion was working as intended. Thanks, Amber.
The server arrived to collect the drinks order. Glenn ordered a fresh Diet Coke and Willow ordered herself a wine. She needed something to calm her tumult of emotions; worry blended with the brewing annoyance at being put in this position. Thank goodness she wasn’t also under the spell’s effects otherwise tomorrow could have been awkward. No good would have come out of it, whatever delusions Amber might have.
The reversal potion she had hidden called for it to be mixed with red wine, but since that was off the agenda Diet Coke would have to do. She just needed to distract Glenn long enough to slip it into his drink undetected.
‘Good day at work?’
‘Not bad. I popped into Mr Garner’s to see if he needed anything. His daughter’s a lovely woman, don’t you think? Very underappreciated, you know.’
‘Really?’ As far as Willow remembered, she was a replica of her mother—an old bag who ruled her husband’s life with a firm hand. Mr Garner had flourished since her death six years ago, revealing a cheeky sense of humour that attracted all the ladies into cooking for him and helping with his chores.
‘Yes, such a shame she’s married. I hope he loves her; do you think he does?’ Willow choked back a giggle at his sincerity and the notion Amber might have wound up with her father getting it together with the woman from hell.
‘Of course he does.’ Marriage was the last topic she wanted to discuss. She’d deleted several more unread messages from Nate and he had the gall to phone the Enchanted Emporium.
Luckily, Rosa answered and slammed the phone down.
‘What about you? I’ve been worried about you,’ Glenn slurred. ‘You do know Nate didn’t deserve you. Not one bit.’ He reached over and caressed her hand. ‘You need—’
Willow snatched her hand away, relieved the waiter had arrived with the drinks. Glenn needed the antidote fast. And she didn’t need to hear his views on what she needed.
Glenn looked momentarily confused before he began a tirade about Nate’s behaviour. Willow wanted him to stop. She thought things couldn’t get worse until Glenn leant over and tapped the woman on the neighbouring table to tell her all about Nate’s deception, but it was fine as it meant he could marry Willow instead. She cringed and her skin blushed until it matched the red flocked wallpaper behind him. Using his animated storytelling as a distraction, she poured the liquid from her vial into his Coke.
‘Glenn.’ She pulled him away, apologising to the couple. ‘We need to decide our order. You look thirsty. Have a drink.’ He drank some Coke and scrunched up his nose.
‘Does this taste okay to you? It’s bitter.’ He offered her his glass and she pretended to take a sip.
‘It’s fine.’
‘No. No.’ Glenn shook his head, unconvinced. ‘I think I’ll get him to change it. Maybe it’s the glass.’
‘Glenn, it is fine. I think it’s because you’re too thirsty to taste it right. The more you drink, the better it’ll taste. In fact, I think you may have sunstroke from working too hard outside. The best thing you can do is drink up and then we’ll go for a walk on the beach for some fresh air.’
‘If you say so, Willow,’ he replied, looking deep into her eyes, and followed her advice. The spell was working so well, if Willow asked him to stand on the table and tap dance to impress her, he would. ‘You’re so wise. It’s because you’re a witch. Are all witches wise? They must be except the one in that fairy tale. The one with the mirror. The mirror conned her, didn’t it?’
Just like Nate conned me. Willow indicated to the staff they wanted the bill, and she registered their relief they were leaving.
‘I love witches. I love you. And I loved Louise, I still do. She was a witch, you know.’
‘Yes, I know. She was very much a witch,’ Willow said, linking arms with him to guide him to the beach in the hope the sea air would quicken up the reversal. His bewitched speeches continued, hardly taking a breath.
‘Except I didn’t believe in magic then. I didn’t believe her. It was all hocus-pocus baloney until you came along and showed me differently.’ He stumbled over a rock. His misstep caused her to step forward to prevent his fall. ‘You saved me. Again.’
He spun Willow round to face him and gazed down at her with devotion, intensifying the air between them until his mouth met hers. The remnants of potion lingered on his lips, its magic urging her to respond, and powerless, she kissed him back.
***
Amber couldn’t believe her luck when she discovered Monique, the extravagant chef and owner of the self-named restaurant, was Artie’s aunt. Its reputation for quality, extraordinary food, and intimate atmosphere had cemented it as the go-to venue for romantic evenings to impress your loved ones. Over the last few weeks, Amber had volunteered at Bones Ink in exchange for knowledge and experience, and Artie knew how much her dad and Willow meant to her. A quick word to his aunt and he wrangled her a reservation for them. A tiny white lie about the occasion might have been told. While setting a surprise blind date would have raised eyebrows, a fortieth birthday was acceptable.
Jack readily agreed to meet that evening and Amber found after weeks of not seeing each other, she was eager for his company. From seeing each other daily their contact had dwindled to occasional texts. There were no fireworks at the end of their relationship, if it was the end. Amber was unsure, but hoped tonight would reveal all and allow her to monitor her dad. She enjoyed Artie’s company, and he crowded much of her thoughts, but she missed her best friend.
On her way to meet Jack, she passed Monique’s and saw her dad leaning towards Willow, deep in conversation and holding her hand. Her plan was working. Her bubbling excitement was hard to contain while catching up with gossip with Jack at the local pub. Along with the dream where he snubbed her, the covert meddling blocked the path of their natural chat.
‘Come on,’ Jack said, putting his empty glass on the bar. ‘You’re too fidgety. Let’s walk.’
So they did, but Amber remained distracted, knowing metres away her magic was taking hold.
Sitting near the beach huts overlooking the sea, Jack and Amber ate chips with lashings of salt and vinegar. From the corner of her eye, she saw her dad and Willow stroll onto the sand, arms linked and her dad looking longingly at Willow.
‘Is that—?’ Jack asked.
‘Yes. Come on, I don’t want them to see us.’ Amber jumped up, grabbing Jack, urging him to leave, but her eyes didn’t leave the pair. Her dad stumbled and Willow held him up. The atmosphere changed, magic danced in the breeze as he leant forward and kissed Willow. Amber’s stomach churned. It really had worked.
‘See I told you. They’re made for each other.’ Amber turned away, no longer wanting to witness her dad’s affection. It felt wrong, voyeuristic. Her job was done. ‘Come on.’
Jack followed her off the beach, shaking his head. His mood changed from happiness to puzzlement and sadness.
‘What’s up?’ said Amber.
‘I can’t help thinking it should have been Nate. There was chemistry in the photos. They fitted together. This feels odd.’
‘Nate is a cheat. A liar. You just don’t like admitting you were wrong and I was right.’
Jack froze and stared at her as if searching a for a clue. A chill crept up her spine. ‘You did something. Didn’t you?’ Amber kept silent. This wasn’t how she wanted things to go. ‘None of this is real. They aren’t and nor are we. I bet you only phoned me as an excuse to spy on them.’
‘They are real. I was just speeding things along so I can go to uni happy,’ Amber defended her actions, but Jack’s face showed his disappointment, his anger.
‘So, you are going to uni now? Not waiting for Artie to notice you. Or be his next assistant?’
‘If my grades are okay and things work out with them. Artie says—’
‘Yes, you will do anything Artie says, won’t you? So far, all I’ve heard about is him and his shop. Him and interfering in other people’s lives is all you care about.’
‘That’s not true. I—’
Jack threw his arms in the air, cutting her off. ‘Enough. I don’t want to know.’ And with a deep sigh he stormed down the road, leaving her wondering how a perfect evening had fallen apart with one kiss. Was this the beginning of her debt’s repayment for using the spell?