Chapter 11 #2
Mia’s week was getting weirder. When she got up that morning, she found the green mug that Aiden had used the last time he’d stayed over sitting by the kettle next to hers, as if waiting for him to return.
She picked it up and studied it, confused, then shook her head and put it away. She must have forgotten moving it.
When she went into the bathroom, she could have sworn – just for a moment or two – that she could smell the familiar scent of wood, spice and leather.
But the ghostly fragrance disappeared as soon as she started the shower.
Without her glasses or lenses she couldn’t be entirely sure, but as the glass started to steam up, she thought she saw the faint outline of a heart.
But she didn’t want to deal with it, so closed her eyes and let the water cascade over her.
It didn’t work for long. When she poured milk over her cereal, it briefly swirled into the shape of a heart that matched the foamy one floating on top of her cappuccino.
She stirred both rigorously, until they started behaving more normally, and carried on getting ready for work.
She did well ignoring the oddities, methodically scraping the frost off her car while refusing to acknowledge the pattern of hearts that had decided to embellish her windows.
It carried on throughout her day: when she tripped over her handbag – which she was convinced she hadn’t left where it waited to trip her up – she was barely even surprised when the bruise that bloomed on her knee was a purple heart-like mark.
And, of course, when a patient had pressed a cup of tea and a biscuit into her hands during a home visit the china had been adorned with hearts and the biscuit a jammy dodger – complete with its red, jammy heart.
As her day wore on, she started to feel like she was being watched.
Not in a creepy way – not exactly – but if she didn’t know better, she would have sworn she wasn’t entirely alone for most of the day.
It was probably the sparrows. They seemed to have had an explosion in numbers and it was starting to feel like she couldn’t go anywhere without seeing their cheerful little faces.
There were even some in the reception area that morning, cuddled up together on the doormat, apparently enjoying the warm air from the heater.
There were more perched on her car when she went to start her rounds that day, and she had to shoo them away before she could safely drive.
It took Aiden another day, but he eventually managed to settle his energies enough to feel fairly confident about returning to Glimmers.
He parked his bike in the usual spot, and made it halfway down the street before something pinged off his nose. He looked around, then shrugged. Two more steps and the stinging hit his ear. ‘What the hell…?’
Three pumpkins sitting on the wall outside the library were grinning at him – far too innocently. He looked around and spotted fat white seeds on the floor. ‘Do you think that’s funny?’
‘Not as funny as your face!’
‘Stupid meat bag!’
‘It’s true what they say: intelligence really is wasted on the living.’
‘What did you say?’
‘You’re an idiot.’
‘Empty-headed fool.’
‘Don’t have a spare seed to rub against the other!’
‘Ninny.’
‘Numpty.’
‘OK, OK, I get it. You think I’m an idiot.’
‘Obviously.’
‘You don’t get to judge me,’ Aiden snapped at them. ‘You’re empty-headed gourds!’
‘And we’ve still got more sense than you!’ they chortled.
‘I hope you fall off the wall and smash!’
‘Oooh, now you’re picking on helpless vegetables!’
‘Please don’t…’ Aiden begged as they burst into song – probably the worst rendition he’d ever heard of ‘Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word’. He shoved his fingers in his ears and hurried down the street towards Glimmers.
Mist jumped up onto the wall. You are going to tell me what that was about.
‘He’s stubborn.’
‘Stupid, more like.’
How bad is it?
‘If you don’t know, why should we tell you?’
‘What business is it of yours, cat?’
He works at Glimmers and nearly blew up half the inventory the other morning. I wish to know why.
‘Oh ho, we know something you don’t know, we know something you don’t know…’ They burst into chorus again.
And I know something you do not. I know that my claws are itching to scratch something. She flexed her paw.
‘OK, OK. You don’t need to get mean.’
‘We’ll talk.’
What do you know?
‘He did something stupid that upset the one with the legs.’
Who?
‘The hubba-hubba nurse with the pins.’
‘For gourds’ sake, just because you died in the forties doesn’t mean you have to talk like it’s still then,’ one of the smaller pumpkins scolded. ‘He means Nurse Howard.’
What did he do?
‘Don’t know. It was outside of Hudsbury and late at night, so the sparrows were roosting and everyone knows owls aren’t good gossips.’
What do you know?
‘He called late a few nights ago. She went rushing out and came back in tears a couple of hours later.’
‘The birds say he’s her heart feather but they both have less sense than chicks who won’t stay in the nest.’
And no one else knows?
‘He bribed the flock and threatened us.’
I see. Well, this cannot go on.
‘We did try a few subtle suggestions, but they’ve not landed.’
‘We’ll have to be more direct.’
Obviously. They’re clearly hopeless.
‘Aren’t most humans, nowadays?’
Mist wrinkled her nose with laughter. They need to talk.
‘They’re avoiding each other more than bad gamblers avoid loan sharks on payday.’
‘Ugh…’
I will get them to talk.
‘How?’
I have my ways.
If she’d believed in signs and magic like Ophelia and Rayenne did, Mia would probably have thought someone was trying to tell her something, what with the wandering crockery and hearts everywhere she wasn’t looking for them.
But she just put it down to being one of those Hudsbury things…
with a bit of frequency illusion thrown in for good measure.
It seemed to be working and she nearly had herself convinced. Right until the postwoman delivered two letters to her that were addressed to Ophelia. Annoying, but she could always shove them through the shop’s mailbox on her way past. If she was lucky, she could avoid having to talk to anyone.
She grabbed her keys off the shelf in the hallway and froze.
Hanging next to her coat – impossibly – was a very familiar, far-too-big-to-be-hers hoodie.
She stared at it for long moments, wondering how she could have possibly walked past the mossy green fabric dozens of times since he’d last been there, and failed to notice it.
It wasn’t like it was hidden; it was just hanging there, one sleeve brushing up against hers as if it had no idea of the emotional turmoil it was causing just by quietly being there and reaching out.
When Aiden finally walked through the door of Glimmers without being pelted by acorns, apples or black peppercorns, or grabbed by the web, he was welcomed with warm hugs, though Ophelia banned him from the kitchen or handling any of the herbs, and he didn’t dare argue.
Besides, there was still plenty of cleaning to be done.
He’d managed to make more mess in those few minutes than the last time Mist had brought in a brownie.
It wasn’t easy though. The cupid in the painting sulked and made rude gestures at him every time he made the mistake of looking at it, while the pumpkins called him names every time he stepped outside the store.
After a while, he dragged the bin inside instead of having to keep going near them – but it didn’t stop the one in the window.
‘You’re an idiot, you know.’
He ignored it and carried on taking down and cleansing each of the crystals he’d unbalanced with his bad energy.
‘Oi, pulp for brains!’
‘Not listening.’
‘I’m not saying you messed up badly… but I’ve met scarecrows with better communication skills than you. Talk to her.’
‘Shut up.’
‘Oh, so now you’re listening…’
‘Nope.’
‘You know worms break down their issues faster than you.’
‘Frank, I’m really not interested.’
‘Course you’re not. Because you’ve got less guts than a jack-o’-lantern on All Souls’ Day.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Aiden wheeled on him, glad Ophelia and Rayenne were smudging the book nook.
‘Want me to spell it out for you? You’re a coward. C. O. W…’
‘If you don’t shut up, the first thing I’m cooking will be pumpkin pie!’
‘Ooooh, threatening the gourd. Big man. No wonder she’s not talking to you.’
‘That’s it!’ Aiden threw down his cloth and grabbed the pumpkin.
‘Help! Murder! Vegicide!’
He kicked the door open and dumped the spiteful squash on the pavement, and shut the door firmly, drowning out its grumbles and swearing.
After that, his afternoon seemed to get a lot better, and he started to feel the familiar, soothing welcome of the store as it wrapped around him – slowly forgiving him – and he began to feel happier.
He didn’t see Mist saunter up to the pumpkin a few hours later and rub her head against it in greeting.
How did it go?
‘As pointless as a bag of marshmallow Peeps. What next?’
Something less subtle.
Mia looked down at the message from Katie, dismayed.
She’d hoped that by going over after closing – past the time he usually left – that she could have avoided any awkwardness with Aiden.
But her luck wasn’t to be in as Katie and Ophelia had apparently decided to choose that precise moment to go out.
She guessed she could always drop the letters and hoodie around another day.
Almost as soon as she’d decided that was the best option, she heard the shop’s chimes tinkle as if the door had swung open instead of remaining firmly closed.
Seconds later, it opened for real. ‘Hey, Mia.’ Aiden’s smile was polite enough as he waited for her to step in out of the rain, but the lack of the teasing nickname he normally used stung.
Not that she deserved to be called that.
‘I’m afraid Katie and Ophelia are out. Just me, Mist…
somewhere… and the pumpkins back inside. ’