Page 33 of Witch You Weren't Here

‘Yes, a bit.’ He rubbed his hand over the short hair at the back of his head.

‘It’s your secondary affinity?’ When he nodded, she lowered her voice and moved forward a little in her chair, unable to help herself being a little fascinated at him not only having another gift but it being proof of his genetic link to such a legendary witch. ‘How does it manifest?’

‘Kind of like a compass. I can’t use it at will. It’s not for objects. It’s just there. Like an itch, irritating me until I listen to it.’

‘But what is it telling you?’

‘Where I need to be.’ His eyes flicked up at her for a moment and then he sat back heavily in his chair.

She mulled the idea over in her head, letting her gaze rest on his long fingers curled, almost but not quite, into a fist on the edge of the table. It sounded like it leaned into foresight. If that were the case though …

She gave a little laugh. ‘How did you get stuck on all these wrong flights, then?’

‘Believe me, I’ve been asking myself the same question.’ He shook his head and then he sighed. ‘It’s like anything with a seer designation, I think. No real explanation. You tend to piece it together after the fact. But …’

‘But?’

‘But, while I was looking at the departure boards and updates online, I was getting the feeling that maybe we should head to Amsterdam.’

Her spine tingled as she heard the word ‘we’ – although maybe he was just using the royal ‘we’.

Him and his abundance of useful gifts.

‘The reports say the weather isn’t as bad there at the moment,’ he continued. ‘And it doesn’t take long to reach. A couple of hours. Maybe by the time we get there, it would have passed from the south-east of England and France – we might be able to catch a flight from Amsterdam. Or a ferry? It just feels like there are more options open that way.’

‘So, you want to try dog-legging it around the weather?’ She drummed her fingers on the table and then paused, realising she’d unwittingly turned towards him, their knees almost touching.

‘It’s worth a go. If we’re just going to wait out the storm, we might as well wait it out even closer to our destination, right?’

Kay crossed her legs, over and away from his. There was that ‘we’ again. ‘Are you inviting me along with you?’ she asked slowly, like she was easing out over the thinly frozen surface of a lake.

He shifted on his chair, pulling the tails of his bright blue coat free from beneath him. ‘Well, yes. We’re trying to get back to the same place, aren’t we? Biddicote. And Joe’s wedding.’

‘You’ve been invited to the wedding?’ she blurted out.

‘Yeah,’ he said, as though it was a given.

But how could it be when he and Harry weren’t even friends? When he’d used her brother, just to help him study for his A levels? As soon as they’d taken them, he’d dropped Joe like a hexed porcelain doll. Did Joe not realise? Or was it just one of those things where he had to be seen to invite the Ashworths? That had to be it. When she was growing up the Ashworths were always at weddings. She’d not thought anything of it, but it probably harked back to some “Lord of the Manor” custom and Harry was going to be the Ashworth representative at the Hendrix wedding, so his parents could host Samhain as usual.

She picked at a crystal of sugar on top of her pastry, not trusting herself to speak for a moment. The idea of him being there on her brother’s special day had her foot twitching with the desire to stomp it, while telling him he had no right, but it wouldn’t be wise to put his nose out of joint by picking another argument. He was offering to be her travelling companion, and while she knew it would be smart to keep an emotional distance from him, physically, if he had a magical leg-up pointing him in the right direction to get home, she’d be a fool to turn his offer down, wouldn’t she? She needed to get back for Joe’s wedding and if that meant throwing her lot in with Harry, so be it.

‘So, you’ll come with me?’

When she nodded, the relief on his face sent a tingle of confusion through her. He really was acting like he cared. Which didn’t make any sense.

‘It’s still a gamble, though,’ he caveated.

‘I know.’ There was always the possibility his gift was trying to take him somewhere other than Biddicote … ‘But I have the wedding rehearsal dinner this evening. If this could help me make it – I can’t say no. Luck hasn’t exactly been on my side recently.’ She gestured around her to indicate the absence of her luggage.

Harry nodded and then his eyes lit up. ‘Oh, that gives me an idea.’ He opened up his coat and pulled out a black fine-art pen, then beckoned with his right hand for hers. ‘Give me your hand. Doesn’t matter which.’

‘What? Why?’ She moved her hands into her lap. It wasn’t that she had a particular objection to being drawn on, but a) she wanted to know why, and b) Harry’s drawings were not ordinary drawings.

He leaned in even closer. Seriously, they may as well be sitting on the same chair, and the worst thing was, she didn’t hate it. ‘Have you heard of the community sign?’ he asked in a low voice.

‘The what?’ she replied, mouth dry, trying not to throw herself off the chair like she had the bed that morning, in an act of self-preservation.

‘I guess that’s a no. In northern European countries, there’s a tattoo a lot of people like us choose to get – to show they’re part of the community and make it easier to help each other out with things, sensitive situations, et cetera.’

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