Chapter 5 LOVE IS IN THE AIR #2
Mom mopped up the spill with her scarf, which she’d lightly charmed with a cleaning spell. ‘Might be time to cut you off.’
Looking as if he wanted to be anywhere else, Noah unzipped Lara’s makeup case and picked through it, pulling out an eyeliner pencil and a shimmery tray of eyeshadow. ‘What would you like?’ he asked.
‘You pick,’ I said lightly. Mostly because I felt guilty enough about him being forced into this whole thing – I didn’t want to add to the ordeal by demanding something in particular. Although I wouldn’t mind a hummingbird. Or a sunflower.
Noah regarded me, turning my face lightly to observe the arc of my cheekbones. My skin burned from the sensation. Was this the first time he’d deliberately touched me?
After a moment’s consideration, he picked up the eyebrow pencil and stroked it lightly across my temple. I tried not to shiver at the intimacy of the gesture. At the way his gaze broke from the edge of my cheek every now and then to meet my own.
On stage, Finn was re-tuning his guitar, strumming as he turned the pegs this way and that. There was something plaintive in the sound, though I couldn’t quite put a finger on it.
Mostly because I was a tad distracted by the fact that Noah was inches from me, wrapping me in memories of outdoor movies and late-night murmured conversations as he gently moved the pencil across my face.
But when Finn’s voice came over the speaker system, I jerked, smearing the oily kohl all the way to my ear.
‘And this one goes out to … a special family friend,’ announced Finn, purring into the microphone in a way that seemed faintly inappropriate.
‘Is it me?’ called Mom, who’d apparently had as much punch as Rosie.
‘Sorry,’ I told Noah as he wordlessly passed me a napkin to clean up the mess.
‘Are you going to get up?’ Lara jabbed me with the mouth of the prosecco bottle she was sipping from. There was no pleasing her tonight, was there?
She dragged me to my feet, and I stood there awkwardly, conscious of Noah’s art drying on my skin as a light breeze flitted. Noah was seated practically at my feet, carefully putting away Lara’s makeup, while Finn was seemingly staring right at me as he strummed a few lazy chords on his guitar.
Suddenly it was like I was caught between the two of them, with Tiff, the angel on my shoulder saying, Don’t even think about it, Mol, and Lara, the devil, daring me to go right for it.
‘I think that’s his girlfriend,’ an older woman at the picnic blanket next to us told her partner. ‘The one with the face paint.’
‘Are you sure?’ said the other woman.
‘No, that’s not it,’ I said tipsily. ‘I’m not his girlfriend,’ I clarified. ‘I’m not … anyone’s girlfriend.’
Noah was silent, but a tightening muscle threaded his jaw.
As Finn strummed his guitar, the rest of the crowd rose to its feet, hurricane lanterns, candles and phone screens held aloft. Here and there, imperceptible unless you were looking for it, small bursts of magic flowed from fingertips or subtle branch wands.
Finn’s clear, crisp voice joined in with the gentle refrain of his instrument, ringing out into the mesmerizing night.
It was a melancholy song that sounded like an incantation.
I vaguely remembered Charlie singing it as he’d puttered about in his music room at the Pink House.
The hair on the back of my neck prickled, and I found myself lost in the warmth of his voice, in the lovely tones of the guitar.
The song wound around me like magic and, like a whisperwind, it felt like it was crafted just for my own ears.
I wonder if she knows how beautiful I think she is.
For a moment I wasn’t sure whether it was Finn singing or an actual whisperwind winding its way into my soul.
But then, right at the crescendo of the chorus, Finn’s eyes caught mine. Just as Noah tapped my shoulder to tell me something.
In that moment, something was set alight, something that connected the three of us like stars in a constellation, knotting us together. But at the same time, ricocheting off us, unsure where to land.
Instead of landing, it shot upwards, a gust of magic gathering in the sky. There, it twisted like a murmuration between the sparkling stars and the backlit clouds. It shimmered, all pinks and purples and golds, wafting on the air.
Mesmerized, the crowd pointed and whispered.
Hands reached for the sky, trying to capture the magic between fingertips, feel it against their bare skin.
The magic turned and spun, a giant silk scarf set aloft.
It cast itself over the lawn, beautiful but ominous.
Lights extinguished. Jack-o’-melons exploded. Costumes abruptly changed colour.
‘What’s going on?’ muttered the woman who’d decided that I was Finn’s girlfriend.
‘Some sort of solar flare, I think,’ replied her partner. ‘Do you think it’ll affect the strawberries? They go bad so quickly.’
‘Is my phone going to be all right? I just put the Machu Picchu photos on it. Ooh, I got a whisperwind! Someone apologizing for borrowing someone’s favourite dress and ruining it.’
‘Oh, we’ve all been there,’ said the first woman airily. I wondered whether perhaps it had been her whisperwind in the first place.
‘What’s going on?’ I marvelled aloud, squinting through the sparkly air. It was as though a cloud of magical pollen had descended upon us. I sneezed.
‘It’s some sort of magical feedback,’ said Lorraine from the coffee shop, squinting into the moody sky.
She’d come by to bring over some extra pumpkin tarts.
‘Sometimes spells bounce back and forth, creating a magical echo. It’s all probably heightened on a night like this, although it should fade away soon enough.
Oh, I love your face paint, Molly. Even the smudgy bit. Gives it character.’
I reached up to touch my cheek, feeling the light sparkle of the magic that infused Noah’s handiwork. In the drama of the past few minutes, I’d forgotten all about it.
‘Do you need a mirror?’ she asked, pulling a silvery clamshell mirror from her purse. She flipped it open, and the image that Noah had painted came into focus.
A stunning hummingbird, in hues that perfectly matched my dress – and my magic.