Page 70 of The Trouble With Love

‘It’s a mind trick,’ I said, almost admiringly. ‘You make people focus on what they want, so anything they get looks like it’s the result of the spell. That’s actually quite clever, Vivienne.’ Then I frowned sternly. ‘But it’s a con.’

‘No. Lives have changed for the better, Holly,’ She tapped the book. ‘Because of the spell.’

‘So why do you need me to do the charm? If you created the spell, isn’t it your job?’

Vivienne wore the expression you might give a five-year-old who wanted sweets for breakfast, patient but ever-so-slightly ‘you’re being stupid’. ‘I can’t change my own wish. I know how it works, you see, how it’s done. But someone else can change it for me.’

‘But you created the spell in the first place! Why can’t you create another one to counteract it?’

‘Because it’s all suggestion.’ Her lower lip trembled. ‘I need someone else to “suggest” to me! And you do have access to the warlock’s house, which I believe . . .’ her voice went a little faint and she cleared her throat. ‘No. I really do believe that house is the source of some kind of magic.’ Her voice was stronger now. ‘Please, Holly.’

‘I can’t do magic.’ I said in a dull voice.

‘But you can! Just look at the way the spell is working for you.’ She put the book very firmly into my hands again, even though I’d tried to leave it on top of the piano. ‘Just think magic. Be creative.’

I gave her possibly the most unmagical look ever. ‘Sparkly party wings and fairy dust?’

‘If you like.’ She seemed happier now, as though devolving responsibility was enough. ‘But please make it soon, Holly.’ A moment’s thought. ‘Although, perhaps, not too soon.’

‘Right.’

‘Just do something, anything, a little ritual. Anything you do in that house will magnify . . .’ Again her voice tailed off and she blinked quickly. ‘Yes. The warlock’s house will make the spell work,’ she said, with that heavy certainty of tone that people use when they’re trying to talk themselves into something.

I found myself being escorted firmly to the front door of the little cottage. The sun was setting behind Dodman’s Hill and the shadows of the forest stretched and flexed across me as I started the car and turned the heater up to maximum. Two days until midwinter, and it hardly seemed worth the sun getting started in the mornings — it had barely climbed past the treetops and there it was sinking again. I sat for a moment and let the warming air blow over my feet; Vivienne’s cottage was picturesque but lacking in the centrally heated areas. I found myself wondering about Richard, her ex. It seemed very convenient that the cottage and everything in it was all in Vivienne’s name, particularly from a man whose company had just shot down the tubes, presumably with at least a little warning. Why hadn’t he at least tried to sell it before they split up? Why had he adopted such a complete hands-off policy with regard to his ex-wife? Maybe he really had been having an affair with the large-breasted lady in Accounts, as Vivienne suspected, but the whole thing smelled of old fish to me.

I drove round to Megan’s. Although she probably wouldn’t have a perspective, as such, she could usually manage a lateral angle on things. Today, however, her angle seemed to consist of lying down and trying to stretch an arm underneath the sofa.

‘Oh good,’ she said as I walked in. ‘You’re taller than me, see if you can reach it.’

Obediently I lay down and reached under the green veloured monstrosity that she’d bought on such an enormous discount that it was unmissable, even if the result made it look as though she’d been cursed by leprechauns. ‘What are we grovelling under here for?’

‘Rufus dropped his ball and it rolled under.’

I looked sideways and found a huge, grey head almost up against mine. An anxious eye rotated towards me, containing a world of ball-related worry. ‘Okay. Failure doesn’t seem to be an option here. He might eat me.’

‘He just wants his ball.’

Luckily my fingertips managed to touch something and I groped it forwards until it rolled out. There was a snapping snatch by my ear and Rufus lay down, obviously considering himself whole once more.

‘Get him a bigger one,’ I said, standing up and trying for dignity whilst covered in dog fur and dribble.

‘Oh he’s got a bigger one. He prefers that one.’ Megan sat down and riffled Rufus’s fur. His look was pure adoration which I didn’t understand — I was the one who’d got the damn ball back. ‘Why did you come round? Not that I’m not grateful, but I thought you were busy doing the couple-thing with your grandad. Not your personal grandad, that would be odd and besides he’s Scottish, but the grandad-journalist guy.’

‘Thank you for that clarification, Meg, and I must introduce you to Kai soon, because you’ve obviously got some very strange ideas about him. Anyway, I came round to talk about Vivienne.’

Megan bounced in her chair. ‘Ooh, is there some badass gossip? Is it the husband, has he finally done a solo car-park-dive?’ I explained Vivienne’s new position, and Meg looked disappointed. ‘Oh, pooh. She’s gone all obligay on us, hasn’t she?’

‘Oblique, and it’s not really oblique if you change your mind, I don’t think. But now I’ve got to come up with a charm-type thingy so that I can tell Vivienne I’ve done it to protect Richard and, oh God, I’ve just thought, it’s nearly Christmas and we’re going to have to do something soon because Eve is coming to us for Christmas and . . .’ I realised I was hyperventilating and on the verge of tears, ‘I haven’t even done any shopping yet.’ And then I had to explain about Kai and Eve and the whole David thing.

‘Wow. So you’ve not so much gained a grandad as gained a mother-in-law as well. That is quite fast going, for someone who didn’t even want a man in the first place,’ Megan said, a little tersely. ‘I thought you said you were happy as you were?’

‘I was.’ I leaned forward earnestly and Rufus gave me a warning look. ‘Really, I was. But then it all suddenly seemed so shallow, all the unconnected sex and always getting up and leaving, never taking the time to build anything that might become more permanent. Even when I thought that was what I wanted. But Aiden showed me that it couldn’t go on, that if I wanted any kind of real life I had to commit to something, and then, there was Kai, all black leather and silver rings and the most terrific arse . . .’ I stopped and let the thought of the rangy writer fill my head. ‘And I think I might be in love.’

‘You must be. You’ve gone pink.’

I fought the memories of long hands on my body, hair in my eyes and sweat pooling. ‘Bit warm. Anyway. Better, you know, pop off. Now I’ve filled you in.’

‘I thought you might have come round to tell me you were having a Christmas party! I mean, I’m going to Dad’s and Barbara’s this Christmas so I won’t be here on the day, but we ought to do something . . . Hey, what about us all having a midwinter solstice kind of thing? All us witch-girls? Midwinter is meant to be pretty auspicious, isn’t it?’

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