Page 9 of The Trouble With Love

‘We’re on the far side of the dale. I’ll drive you back.’

‘No, it’s okay, I’m meeting some people here.’ I could see the lights from Vivienne’s cottage breaking through the trees. A swathed figure was going towards the front door; I thought it might be Isobel. ‘Someone will give me a lift to the car.’

Kai stopped the Jeep and peered out at the darkness. ‘Who the hell are you meeting, the three bears?’ He tapped his thumb ring against the steering wheel. ‘Nobody law abiding hangs out in these woods.’

‘And you should know.’ I opened the door before he could protest again, misjudged the distance from the ground and landed on my hands and knees in a fine tilth of mud and leaf mulch. It had been such a good exit line up till then.

‘You all right?’ Twin-beam eyes blazed down at me from the warm, well-lit Jeep.

‘Yep, I’m fine, thanks.’ I peeled myself off the forest floor and tried to look indifferent, as though falling was how normal-heighted people always got out of cars. ‘Thanks for the lift.’

I strode nonchalantly towards the cottage for a couple of yards, then realised that I’d got huge sycamore leaves stuck to both my knees, which were flapping as I walked. I chanced a quick look over my shoulder and, sure enough, Kai was still sitting there, watching me go.

I pulled the leaves off with as much insouciance as I could manage, wiped my muddy hands down my coat and straightened my back. The headlights remained stubbornly stationary. He was going to watch me walk every inch of the way, which, I had to admit, was gentlemanly. Or maybe he had a taste for slapstick humour, I thought, as I bounced gently off the trunk of an invisible birch tree, catching my coat on a branch and ripping it all down one shoulder.

‘You sure you’re okay?’

I didn’t turn to answer, just waved one slimy hand and tried not to break my ankle in any of the ruts. When I heard the door of the Jeep bang open I tried to hurry, but only managed to lurch into a large puddle.

‘Here.’ A large metal object was pushed into my hand, there was a click and sudden, blessed light. I looked down to see he’d given me a huge flashlight which was currently illuminating my immersed foot. ‘Bring it back when you’ve done with it,’ he called. I heard the door slam and this time he started the Jeep, pulled it round in a big circle, and roared away back down the track, obviously reassured that he’d done his civic duty.

God, I felt such a prune.

Vivienne opened the door to me, then stood staring. ‘Holly? What happened, were you attacked?’

In the advanced lighting situation of her front doorstep I could see myself better. The flashlight had only illuminated sections of me and carrying it had meant I’d only had one hand at a time free for remedial activities, so I’d not been able to clean myself as well as I’d hoped. Or, it appeared, in the 100-watt brilliance, at all.

‘The woods. The woods attacked me,’ I said, with dignity, and passed Vivienne to walk into the living room where everyone was already assembled.

They stopped talking and looked shocked. ‘Holl?’ Megan came over. ‘Are you all right?’

One of my knees was slightly grazed and oozing blood through my thick tights, my skirt had leaves all over it, and not in a pleasant-pattern way, my maroon wool jacket was flopping at one shoulder seam and my wellies squelched on one side as I walked.

‘If you’d said you didn’t have your car you could have got a lift with me.’ Megan looked me up and down.

‘I got a lift.’

‘Or I could have lent you a torch.’

I held up the enormous flashlight. ‘Got one.’

‘So you were driven here, and you have a torch, and you still managed to get covered in mud?’

I glared at Megan. ‘Apparently.’

Vivienne bustled in carrying blankets. ‘We’ll take these. It can be chilly in the woods at night.’

Isobel peered at her from round her handkerchief. The cats were in evidence again. ‘We aren’t going to be, you know, naked or anything, are we?’

Vivienne beamed at her. It made her thin mouth pouch out at the sides so that she looked as though she was attempting to swallow a leek. ‘We are practising my own branch of the craft, Isobel. There is no need to go sky-clad for that.’

‘So there’s no kissing the devil’s bum or anything like that?’

I looked approvingly at Eve. She clearly had a streak of cynicism in her which was nearly as wide as mine.

‘Of course not! We are practising earth-magic, not devil worship!’ Vivienne almost dropped the blankets. ‘Now, come, follow me. Tread only in my footsteps, for there are things which should not be disturbed abroad in the woods.’

‘She’s a broad in the woods all right,’ I muttered to Megan as everyone filed out, following Vivienne down the garden, through a narrow gate and out into a broad ride which swept through the woodland, heading uphill.

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