Page 2 of Spirit Witch
‘And my lounge chairs faced in the other direction.’ The old woman sniffed. ‘You have the furniture arranged all wrong.’
Brutus went back to sleep. I wrinkled my nose; I couldn’t ask my perpetually hungry familiar about the old lady with Winter here. The last thing I wanted was to worry him with the fact that I was still hallucinating. He’d have the doctor round here in an instant. Or worse, he’d demand that I went back into hospital just to be sure that I wasn’t dying. It was lovely having someone so concerned about my health but it could be a bit tiring too.
Princess Parma Periwinkle, Winter’s familiar, strolled in and gave him a meaningful glance. He shot to his feet. A heartbeat later, there was a knock on the door. Winter all but ran for it.
I sank down again, hearing a soft murmur of voices. Eve appeared, a hesitant smile on her face. ‘Ivy! How’s the invalid? Are you alright? Is there anything I can get you?’
I groaned. Death by solicitous concern. ‘I’m fine,’ I told her. ‘Really.’ Then I paused. ‘Actually if you could get me some gummy bears from the corner shop, that’d be lovely.’
‘Gummy bears.’ Eve nodded. ‘No problem.’
‘And maybe some salt-and-vinegar crisps. A multi-pack. The ones with ridges.’
‘Sure.’
‘A family-sized chocolate bar,’ I added for good measure. ‘And—’
Winter rolled his eyes. ‘How about a cup of tea for you both instead?’ he said, heading for the kitchen. I grinned. This was awesome.
Eve sat down, raising an eyebrow in my direction. ‘You’ve got him wrapped around your little finger.’
‘I have – although he’s driving me a little crazy,’ I confided. ‘He won’t take two minutes to sit back and rest. I don’t think unemployment suits him.’
‘Have you spoken to him about the Order?’
I sighed. ‘I’ve tried. It’s like talking to a brick wall. He doesn’t want anything to do with them. But…’ My voice trailed away.
‘Without the Order, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.’
I nodded. Eve understood. The Hallowed Order of Magical Enlightenment might not be my cup of tea but it was what had sustained Winter for many years. Now that he’d abandoned them because of what had happened to me, he was lost. I wanted him to be happy – and being part of the Order made him happy. But now he seemed determined to forget they existed.
‘He’s missed,’ Eve said quietly. ‘Not just in Arcane Branch either.’
I could well believe it. Winter’s dedication to all things bureaucratic and witchy was the stuff of legend. It didn’t matter how many times I told him that what had happened up in Scotland had been entirely voluntary on my part. No one had forced me to half kill myself by absorbing the magic from a teenage necromancer; my eyes were wide open and I knew what I was getting into. When I broached the subject with him, however, Winter always changed it. He was even more stubborn than me – and that took some doing.
As if bored by us, Princess Parma Periwinkle let out a delicate yawn and wandered towards Brutus, giving the old lady a wide berth in the process. I watched her bat in idle boredom at Brutus’s tail, which was hanging down from the sill, and considered.
‘Actually, Eve,’ I said, ‘could you do me a favour? And I don’t mean shopping for junk food. Could you fetch Harold and bring him round? I’m, um, missing him.’
She looked dubious. I could well understand it – when Brutus, Harold and Princess got together, feline shenanigans always ensued. This was important, though.
‘Okay,’ she said slowly, obviously unwilling to deny the invalid her request. I could get used to this. ‘Give me a minute.’
When she returned with Harold in her arms, Winter reappeared holding two mugs of tea. ‘I’ve brewed it for four and a half minutes,’ he announced. ‘I think that is the optimum time for the perfect cup.’
I gave him an amused glance. He was clearly prepared to do just about anything to occupy himself. Despite my efforts to teach him, he wouldn’t learn the joy of simply doing nothing. Winter had to be busy.
Brutus woke up for long enough to give Harold a glare, while Princess Parma Periwinkle let out a small kittenish miaow of happiness at his appearance. Harold leapt down to the floor, ambled over to Princess and touched his nose to hers. Like her, he avoided going anywhere near the old lady. As far as scientific experiments went, it was hardly watertight but it certainly gave me food for thought.
Ten seconds later, Brutus decided that enough was enough. He charged off the windowsill towards Harold, claws outstretched. Princess fled for cover – and they all made sure they didn’t go anywhere near the woman. My flat wasn’t tiny but neither was it palatial; it wasn't easy to avoid an entire corner of it unless you were really trying. The fact that none of the cats went near my hallucination had to mean something.
Harold beat a hasty retreat. When Brutus was satisfied that he wasn’t returning, he leapt onto the coffee table and gave himself a smug lick. ‘Food?’ he enquired.
‘I’ll get you something,’ Winter said, bounding into the kitchen. I nibbled my bottom lip. Winter might be driving me nuts but I reckoned I wasn’t clinically insane after all. Good to know.
***
I’ve never quite understood people who aren’t good patients. I am an excellent patient. You want to bring me hot lemon with honey? Thank you very much. Mop my brow? Please, go ahead. Spoon-feed me? Well, if you insist. All the same, when I finally felt strong enough to go outside on my own, I felt like I’d been granted a new lease of life. I’d persuaded Winter that it was time for him to head up north and face the music with his own family over his resignation from the Order. As for me, I knew exactly where I was heading and who to ask for answers.
