Chapter Thirty-Seven #2
Maddy nodded slightly. “You asked me to do it. All of it. Take the memories away,” she clarified.
“From you. From him. To build something so strong and so effective that neither of you would go looking for the other ever again. You did it to protect us,” Maddy added kindly.
“And to protect yourself. You didn’t want any of us to end up like . . . like Mum.”
A tear slipped down Augustine’s cheek. “I didn’t want to remember him?” she whispered.
Maddy’s expression flickered, something like sadness passing through it. “You didn’t want to live with it,” she corrected gently. “You said it would break you.”
Augustine took a deep, shuddering breath.
“You told me,” Maddy continued, “‘if I remember him, I’ll go back. And if I go back, I’ll choose him. And if I choose him . . . I might get all of you killed.’ You didn’t trust yourselves to walk away — so you both made it impossible to stay.”
Silence stretched between them again, and Maddy looked to the river once more. “I can’t reverse the spell, by the way.”
“I didn’t ask.”
Maddy looked back up, meeting Augustine in the eye.
When she spoke, her voice was knowing. Soft and almost a little sad.
“No, but you were going to. You want him back. You want then back.” She sighed.
“I get it. He was nice, and when the two of you were together it was something special. But I can’t reverse it. It doesn’t work like that.”
Augustine felt a pang of grief. “You should have told us that. Before you ever cast the spell.”
Maddy gave her another look of absolute pity. “Oh, Ags, honey. I did tell you. Both of you. You both asked me to do it, anyway. But I can’t reverse it. Not for you. And not for him either.”
Augustine closed her eyes briefly, the weight of it all pressing down on her from all sides.
I did this, she realized. Not Maddy. Me.
She’d looked at the man she loved and decided the only way to survive him was to erase him.
Her eyes opened again, glassy and unfocused. “You did a good job, you know. Your spell. Pretty powerful stuff. It worked well.”
Maddy shrugged. “Not well enough, because look, here we are. To be honest, the plan seemed simple enough. You forget him. He forgets you. You both move on. A clean break. All very tidy, and all very sensible.”
Augustine’s lips parted. “But?”
Maddy looked at her, and this time, there was no softness left to cushion it. “But then he died.” She took a deep breath. “And then, just as inexplicably, he apparently came back.”
For some reason, Augustine didn’t like the sound of the word ‘apparently’. “You sound annoyed,” she remarked.
“I am, more than a little bit, to be honest with you. That spell was fucking hard work. And not just the spell, but the admin that came with it. I mean, you couldn’t go on living above your shop, right?
Theo had just moved in with you, and his stuff was everywhere.
Plus, in a moment of apparent eagerness he’d added his name to the lease and the council tax.
” Maddy dragged a hand through her hair.
“You couldn’t stay there again until I’d eliminated all traces of him from your life.
Theo was easy, we just packed him back home.
But you—” Maddy rolled her eyes — “took you a while, but eventually you found that flat on the other side of Greenwich. You went to see it. When you came back, you said it came with an odd flatmate and was full of 90’s kitsch crap, but it would do.
It was cheap, too. And it was only temporary.
A year, tops. Then you’d move back in above your shop and I’d perform a quick spell to make you forget you’d ever lived anywhere else. ”
Augustine blinked at her. “I don’t remember any of that.”
“Of course not,” Maddy said dryly. “That would be the spell. Although not even a spell could help me get Theo’s name removed from all the paperwork at your shop.
” She paused, then rolled her eyes. “Which, by the way, is apparently impossible. I can alter memories, erase entire people from someone’s mind, build layered glamours that would make Mum proud—” she ticked the points off on her fingers again, increasingly irritated — “but ask me to speed up local council bureaucracy? Absolutely not. That remains the one true immovable force in the universe.”
“And Bird?” Augustine asked, the question slipping out before she could stop it. “He was Theo’s cat, right? So why do I still have him?”
Maddy flushed. “Well, because I like him.”
“What?!” Augustine’s mouth dropped open. “You stole his cat?”
“I prefer the term ‘relocated’. Don’t worry, though, I paid the price for it.
That creature clawed me up to my armpits when I moved him across town.
Don’t get me wrong, I love him, but I still have scars.
The glamour on the hidden door was the easy part.
The cat was the real villain of this entire situation. ”
“So, you created the spell, then used your PA know-how to take care of all the life admin afterwards,” Augustine returned slowly. “It would have been the perfect crime except—”
“Hey!” Maddy protested, and Augustine frowned.
“Okay, it would have been the perfect job, except for one thing. Theo came back.”
“Theo came back,” Maddy echoed. “And fucked everything up.”
Augustine’s expression shifted, something sharper cutting through the noise. “Theo can’t help being dead,” she pointed out. “That’s not his fault.”
Maddy went very still. It was subtle, but Augustine still saw it, the way her sister’s shoulders tightened slightly. The way her gaze flickered, just for a second, before settling again. Then she started walking slowly once more, her hands in her pockets.
She’s uncomfortable.
A cold feeling slid into Augustine’s stomach. “Maddy?”
Maddy didn’t respond. Not immediately, at any rate, and Augustine felt a knot of dread build within her. She cleared her throat, taking a few hurried steps to catch up with her. “Tell me something, Maddy. Did you . . . did you have him killed?”
Maddy’s head snapped up. “What?” The colour drained from her face almost instantly, and she froze on the path. “Ags — no! What kind of person do you take me for?”
Augustine held her gaze, searching but Maddy shook her head vehemently, still pale.
“No,” she said again, firmly. “I didn’t have him killed.
Why would I do that when I can just—” she made a vague gesture near her temple — “fuck with his head and take his memories instead? Besides, I told you already — I liked him. He was sweet.”
The bluntness of Maddy’s words hit hard. “Then who did?” she asked.
Maddy hesitated. “Well,” she said slowly, “nobody.”
Augustine frowned. “What do you mean, nobody?”
Maddy took a breath. “Maybe we should find another Starbucks and get more pumpkin spice lattes. The syrup might help—”
“Maddy!”
“Right, right.” Her sister chewed on her lip.
“So, okay, to say I was surprised when you told me Theo had returned from the grave would be the understatement of the century. I mean, all that spellwork, and he was going to die in six months anyway? All that spellwork, and the man comes back as a fucking ghost to mess with us?” Maddy exhaled tightly.
“That’s annoying, right? So after you told me what was going on the other day, I did a little research. ”
“How?” Augustine asked bluntly, and Maddy shrugged.
“I googled him.”
Augustine shook her head. “No, I did that too, and there was no trace of him on the internet and—” she suddenly caught sight of Maddy’s pitying glance — “that was the spell, too, right?”
Maddy nodded. “Sorry, Ags. There’s plenty about Theo on the internet. But I cast a spell so that you would never find it. But me, here with my complete set of memories, can still see it. So, I looked him up. I figured I’d find an obituary, maybe some information about his death.”
“Okay.” Augustine nodded. “And what did you find? About his death?”
“Nothing. Because he isn’t dead, Ags.”
It was like blunt force trauma to the brain, how quickly Augustine’s mind reeled as she tried to make sense of her sister’s words.
He isn’t dead.
But she’d seen him, hadn’t she? She’d touched him eventually too, as the spell, memory, manifestation, whatever it was, evolved around them. She’d felt him. Kissed him. Made love to him, even. As a ghost.
Her stomach twisted sharply, because that wasn’t something you could simply misunderstand. You didn’t just imagine a whole person. You couldn’t create the weight of them against you, the warmth of their skin, the way they moved, the way they lay next to you. The way they felt inside of you.
You didn’t fall in love with a hallucination . . . right?
Augustine’s breath came quicker now, her thoughts tripping over each other. If Theo wasn’t dead . . . then who had she been holding on to? Who had she been talking with? Falling in love with?
“He’s not . . . dead,” she whispered, and Maddy nodded.
“Nope. He’s very much still alive, in fact.”
Everything in Augustine went completely still. “I don’t understand,” she said, completely stunned. “You mean all this time, he’s been alive and well?”
Maddy met her gaze. “Oh, Ags — I said alive . . . I never said he was well.”