Chapter 17
Seventeen
Aradia is still curled in a ball on the sofa where I left her. The fire’s embers are low and need more fuel. I hear Granny humming in the kitchen and the smell of cooking fills my nostrils.
“Morning,” I chime as I walk in to see her mixing something on the stove. “That smells good.”
“It is for your aunt. One of my finest potions. Cures a hangover instantly. Something tells me she will need it. Thank you for getting her home.” She strokes my arm and smiles.
“It’s a good job I was where I was!”
“And where was that?” Her eyebrow raises.
“Just at Sam’s,” I reassure her. “We just had a night cap.”
She doesn’t buy it and smiles to herself. “Of course, how nice.”
I decide to change the subject. “So, how do you know how to make these potions?”
The smile grows up her cheeks and is now beaming. “Do you have time today?”
“I do.”
“Then I’ll teach you,” she chirps. “Come here.”
She pulls down a large dusty book from the shelves above the counter, its papers stained and falling apart. She drops it onto the counter which disturbs the dust, creating a cloud and making us cough.
“Sorry.” She wafts the cloud away. “I know most by memory so don’t tend to get it down often.”
She flips through the pages carefully. Whizzes of colour and smells and cuttings from plants zoom past my eyes as she flicks through.
“In here are all my recipes. Most things you need can be found in the garden or the forest around us. Some I do have to import but that is the beauty of having now.” She chuckles to herself.
“Nature has so many uses and many healing properties. Plants tend to be linked to different properties such as, I am sure you know, lavender and relaxation or eucalyptus and breathing properties. It’s then a case of creating the right mix for the right purpose. Also, a little magic helps.” She winks.
“I don’t think I have magic. Dream telling, yes, I can believe, but as for making a spoon stir, I don’t think—”
“Have you tried?”
“Kind of, with the salt grinder. But—”
She cuts me off. “Harriet. If you have not tried more than once, you don’t know.
Look, come and try with this potion. I have added most of the ingredients, but we need spice for the heart.
Add that chilli and then concentrate on the spoon.
Use your intentions. Use your power and feel the confidence within that power. ”
I step towards the pot boiling on the stove.
I sprinkle in some chilli flakes and step back.
I concentrate on the wooden spoon sitting in the mixture.
I close my eyes and breathe. I focus on the spoon and send the thoughts of intention through my eyes.
I feel tingling around my hands which flows up through my arms and into the rest of my body.
I continue to focus to the point where all around me falls silent.
The tingling intensifies making me feel nervous, but I continue to push the intentional thoughts through to the spoon.
Move the spoon.
Move the spoon.
Move the spoon.
It moves, only slightly, but it moves. I continue the focus, pushing the thoughts with more power behind them, changing the intention to stir the spoon in the pot as I realise “move the spoon” does not give much instruction.
Stir the spoon in the pot.
Stir the spoon in the pot.
Stir the spoon in the pot.
Stir the spoon in the pot!
It stirs. Janky and awkwardly but it does one long stir around the pot before my focus is taken away by a cheering Granny who is now dancing and clapping in the kitchen.
She dances on the spot clapping her hands. “You clever girl! I knew you could do it!”
Did I honestly just make a spoon stir with my mind? I know I have seen Granny do it but seeing someone else do something like that and you doing it yourself… well, that is just bonkers.
“Did I just…?” I stare at her in disbelief.
“Oh, Harri.” She pulls me into her. “I knew you had it in you! There is so much for you to learn. The power you possess is strong! You remind me of myself.” She blushes and clicks her fingers making the long wooden spoon stir in the pot.
“Soon you’ll be able to manipulate the objects around you to do your cleaning.
” She laughs. “But remember, that to us, magic is in our blood, to others the unknown is scary. Which can make people act unkindly towards these things. The world has never been ready for magic, nor will it probably ever be. So, we use our wisdom and power in the shadows.”
“But imagine what we could do.” I look at her with the new power of magic flowing through my veins.
She smiles and sighs. “I remember being so eager at your age. It’s wonderful, but yet, my darling girl, there are many who are out to hurt us, so please, this is to be only used in the comfort of the cottage.”
I nod, sad that I can never show who I am and the realisation that if Greg’s mother or Greg lets slip my family’s secret, the risk my family would face is far too dangerous.
The tingling almost burning sensation is still lingering around my body. Like when you drink sparkling water, almost like TV static, but I can feel it all the way through me.
“My body feels weird.”
“Oh yes, you will get used to that, dear. You have woken up sleeping magic that has been around for centuries. It needs time to get used to you and you to it.”
Panic sets over me. “So I can’t control it? Or turn it off?”
Granny pulls me towards her with both hands on my shoulders.
“Harri, I have said before, you can turn it off. You just do not use it and in time it will return to sleep. As for controlling it, well, that’s a little shakier for a new witch, but in time it gets easier, just…
well, it is most uncontrollable with emotions, so if you start to feel that tingle in a situation where you’d rather not make a spectacle, then breathe and concentrate on not scaring the normals.
It will pass. And if it doesn’t, take yourself away. ”
“Normals?”
“The unmagical, the everyday human.” She waves, dismissing the imaginary normals.
“Ah.” Well, hopefully then I won’t mess up and spill the family secret by my own doing. That would be a kicker.
She smiles and rubs my arms. “It’s all OK, my darling. Why don’t you have a lie down? I bet you’re feeling a little overwhelmed. I’ll make us a nice lunch. I am sure your aunt will need feeding up after everything she discarded in my washing up bowl this morning.”
I nod. I take myself up the stairs and lie on the bed with a purring Nettle snuggled up on the pillow beside me.
I plug my phone in which again, I have left to die a quiet death rather than deal with whatever is behind the screen.
The light flashes on along with missed calls from my mother and Greg and Greg’s mother.
I am sorry about the other night. I was not myself. You know me, Harri. Greg x
So, he has sobered up and realised that was a complete dick move. And he is right, I do know him and while that was odd behaviour even for him, I also know that his status is the most important thing to him.
Can we at least talk? Greg x
No, Greg, we cannot.
You are acting like a spoilt child, Harriet. Greg
Ah, there we go. There he is.
Fine. Point made. Enjoy your time with your bit of scruff. See you at the ball. You know it is the only way.
What a prick.
Next, I scroll to the message from my mother.
Penelope Cornthwaite is engaged to Donald Ronaldson. You are invited to the wedding next year with Gregory. Please put it in your calendar.
Cool, she is just completely dissociating from real life then, or that’s just my mother’s way of checking in.
To some, it would be strange not to hear from your mother much when you have disappeared into the woods.
I bet some would send search parties for their kids, but me and my mother can go months without a word, only seeing each other at social events.
The relationship I now have with my aunt and granny is how I imagined a mother and daughter relationship should be.
I let my phone fall from my hand onto the floor. That is enough stress for the day. I don’t think I have the energy to deal with the magic now awake in my body, the will we, will we not of Sam and I or the fact my life is an unstoppable train of doom. Nice.
I must have dozed off as I awaken to the smell of cooking coming from underneath the door.
The smell makes my mouth water instantly.
I look at the clock on the side of the bed and it’s now 2 pm.
I can hear voices downstairs, the familiarity of my gran and aunt but also a male’s voice.
Not Sam, sadly. Or Greg, thankfully. I pull myself from the comforts of the bed and head downstairs.
My granny is cooking on the stove. No magic being used which means that someone in the house is not aware of who we are.
I look to the dining table and see my aunt and the back of a man in a flat cap and an old-looking chequered shirt. My aunt’s cheeks are as red as rubies.
“Hi, Harri.” She smiles. “Thanks for getting me home safely,” she says sheepishly.
The man turns around. It’s Pete. He too has ruby red cheeks and looks like a caught teenager about to be told off. He stands and stumbles nervously and puts his hand out to shake mine. “Er, thank you for getting Aradia home safely. Sorry we caused a commotion.”
I shake his hand and smile. The poor bloke looks out of his depth. “It’s no problem, Pete, hope your head is OK.”
He nods, smiles and sits back in his seat.
Aradia smiles at him and his shoulders relax.
We sit and dine on Granny’s chicken pie and Pete slowly begins to feel more at home and opens up about his life in the village and on the farm.
The whole time his eyes fall onto my aunt.
They light up every time hers meet his. It’s beautiful to watch two people so different fall completely in love in front of you.
It’s clear that Pete is just a bit of a shy man with not much experience with people.
But he is kind and sweet. And I can see how much Aradia likes him.
After dinner Pete helps Granny to wash the pots while Aradia and I clean the table.
“So?” I whisper. “Does he know?”
“About?” She looks puzzled.
“About us, like being who we are.”
“Kind of. He thinks it’s more horoscopes and crystals than actually being able to understand people’s feelings and thoughts or Granny moving stuff with magic.”
“And me.”
“What?” Her voice raises a little.
“Shhh!” I put my finger to my lips and stifle my giggle. “I moved the spoon. I used magic and moved the spoon.”
“Wow! That is amazing, Harri.” She gives me a big squeeze and whispers in my ear, “I knew you were special the moment I saw you.” Her warmth embraces me then she pulls me away from her by my shoulders. Her face drops from excitement to concern. “There’s something on your mind.”
“Just the Greg thing.” I turn to carry on collecting some leftover plates.
“We will work it out. You will not marry him. That is, if you don’t want to. We can move. We can relocate and start again.”
“I don’t want you to do that. It would mean leaving the cottage and Pete.”
Sadness hits her face. “But we will, Harri, if it keeps you safe, we will. We will do whatever it takes and if I have to leave to keep you and Pete safe, I will.” She smiles sweetly. “But, out of interest, what do you think of Pete?”
I laugh. “I think if you are happy, then I am happy. He’s sweet, Aradia.”
She nods while playing with a petal on the flowers in the vase in the middle of the table.
Her eyes flick towards him and glaze over with a soft gooeyness.
She is smitten. She goes over to help dry the pots.
I stand watching them, laughing and joking as they do the mundane job of washing up but just so joyful and happy.
If I choose not to marry Greg, it means my family will have to move.
Aradia will have to disappear from Pete.
And I wouldn’t see Sam. Either path, I will never see him again.
This is painful. Too painful to bear. I can feel my lip wobble, and the tingle around my body.
I can’t do this in front of my family or in fact Pete.
I pull myself together. And excuse myself.
“I’m just going to get some air.” I muster a semi not upset voice the best I can.
Aradia stops what is she is doing and narrows her eyes at me. “Are you OK?” She knows something is up.
I force a smile. “I’m fine. Just fancy some fresh air after that lovely meal. Might go and get a coffee.” I kiss my aunt’s cheek and my granny’s. “Thanks, Granny.”
Granny looks at me over her glasses. She pauses a moment but lets me go. “No worries, darling, remember to wrap up!”
I agree and turn to Pete. “Nice to see you, Pete.”
“You too, Harri.” He smiles and continues helping Granny and Aradia.
Granny and Pete carry on washing but Aradia watches me for a second. She mouths, “You sure you’re OK?”
I nod and force the smile even more, hoping it blows her off my trail. She is in a happy place at this moment. I want her to stay that way.
I grab my boots, coat and scarf and head out of the front door.
The chilly air hits me all at once and my tears spill over the edge, stinging my face in the frost. My nose starts to run again making it feel frostbitten and uncomfortable.
I wipe my face with my scarf and start to walk into the forest that surrounds us.
I could walk into town but the risk of seeing someone would probably make me cry more.
The forest looks bare and tired in the early winter sun.
The leaves from autumn are now a muddy mess on the woodland floor along with brambles and bushes.
However, even in the drabness of the moody forest, the birds are still singing above me. A nice reminder that some creatures in this world are free.