Page 58 of Witch You Weren't Here

9.26 p.m.: saturday 30 october

The Hook of Holland

258 miles and 17(+1) hours and 34 minutes until the wedding

They made it to the ferry port with four minutes to go before they closed boarding. Harry had taken the wheel again. Despite Kay being worried about how worn out he was, it was still the safer option than her driving while under the influence. It was hard to tell whether her level of distraction was from the drug still in her system or the way her mind was churning over each of the mishaps with her magic over the last few months, trying to see how many of them were of an elementary nature.

If she did have a partial affinity for weather – her mother and father’s sides combining to give her an ability to influence it – that might explain why it was trying to erupt from her, since she’d never given it any attention. Never tried to use it, learn about it, or control it. It wouldn’t be like the secondary affinity Harry thought she had, where she made people more aware of their feelings – that was just vibes really, a natural aura she was incapable of controlling. Weather affinities could be powerful if they were ones where you could affect it rather than just read it, like her Aunt Lucille.

Harry flopped back in his seat after driving onto the ship and parking in among the rows of other vehicles, like he’d barely taken a breath the whole way. She knew he’d been walking a line between trying to hurry so they made their boarding time, but also being ultra careful because of the snow and the fear that they might spin off the road again.

‘We made it,’ she told him, taking a sip from the massive water bottle Leon had insisted they take with them. She offered it to Harry. ‘You got us here. Thank you.’

‘Couldn’t have done it without you.’ He took the bottle and took a long drink himself. Kay tried not to ogle him too much as he swiped his tongue across his lips, screwing the cap back in place and tucking the bottle in the holder again. ‘Shall we?’ He tipped his head towards the car door.

‘I guess so.’ She half-laughed, half-groaned. ‘The thought of moving, though …’

‘I know, but there’s food upstairs, and beds. It’ll be worth the final effort.’

They climbed out of the car like a pair of octogenarians with arthritis and joined the queue to go up the narrow stairwell to the main deck. Harry left his bag in the back, even though Kay offered to carry it for him, saying he could always grab it later. He had other priorities, it seemed.

‘Great Mabon, I’m starving,’ Harry announced as they trooped up the stairs with everyone else.

‘You know what – me too. I can’t believe it. Leon’s dinner was so good.’

They passed through the doors out into the hallway and Harry ducked his head down beside hers and whispered: ‘You know, that might be a little something called the munchies.’

She shivered at the brush of his lips against the shell of her ear and laughed. ‘What’s your excuse?’

‘I’m hollow inside,’ he joked, but as she glanced at him, his eyes weren’t lit in their usual way. Perhaps he was just tired, but it made her wonder how much of his self-deprecating humour was based on things he truly believed. He looked around him, hands in his pockets, frowning at the signs, the artificial lights showing how pasty he still was. ‘What do you fancy?’

You. Even like this; wan and tired. It was like seeing the bones of him. The hardy pieces that kept going, kept trying, no matter how difficult it was. At some point, probably when he was literally bleeding to try to get the car back on the road, something inside her had accepted that she was lucky to have Harry in her corner. He would do everything he could to get her to Joe’s wedding.

‘I don’t mind. You choose. Last time I made a decision about eating, it backfired spectacularly.’

After they’d both made use of the toilets, they went to the nearest restaurant and grabbed a toastie each. In actual fact, Harry grabbed two, plus a blueberry muffin, and they attacked their food in silence.

The moment their stomachs were full, the last of Harry’s energy seemed to abandon him. He sat at the table, his chin on his fist, propping his head up and his eyes making longer and longer blinks.

‘Come on, let’s get you to bed,’ Kay said, pushing her plate away.

Harry’s eyes opened wide at that comment, and she heard it back to herself, her cheeks flushing, but she didn’t exactly correct him.

When they stood up, she went to him and slipped her arm around his waist to help him stay upright. He’d done the same for her at least twice today. With his arm around her shoulders, he leaned his tired weight on her as they wandered the decks, looking for their cabin.

It was tiny and sterile but clean, with a set of bunk beds riveted to the wall on one side of a porthole and an armchair on the other side. Kay helped Harry over to the lower bunk and released him so he could collapse onto it with a groan.

She left her things on the armchair and debated climbing up onto the top bunk to sleep herself, but she didn’t really want to. She wanted to sleep. But she didn’t want to sleep up there, separate from him.

He’d kicked his shoes off and wrestling himself out of his coat off – or trying to – but his elbows were tangled in the arms, and he just flopped back with a sigh. She used it as an excuse to go over and help him out of it, sitting on the edge of the bed and holding onto the cuffs for him.

‘Are we going to talk about it now?’ he mumbled as he pulled his arms free and shifted onto his side, plumping the pillow up beneath his head, his eyes hardly open.

‘Talk about what?’

‘Whether you regret us kissing, now you’re mostly sober and not under Leon’s influence?’

She pressed her lips together. She didn’t regret it.

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