Page 75 of Witch You Weren't Here

Kay put her hand over her mouth, her own awkwardness paling as she watched Tina shove her hands inside the deep pockets of her chunky cardigan. Her eyes met Tina’s again and her old friend suddenly laughed.

‘Don’t worry, Sandy, I have a partner and it was just a crush when I was, like, seventeen. Well over it now. I swear I won’t ruin your make-up or hair.’ She made an X sign over her chest and help up three fingers. ‘Brownie’s honour.’

Sandy laughed, but still looked a bit weirded out.

‘How about I go first?’ Kay offered. ‘So Tina and I can catch up.’

Sandy nodded her head vigorously and Kay perched on the edge of the vanity.

‘Well, shit,’ Tina said in a soft voice as the other bridesmaids put on some music from the playlist they’d had at the hen do. ‘I think this is what you call karma.’

Kay tilted her head. ‘And why would that be?’

‘Oh come on. I only brought up the crush as a reason to apologise to you. I was out of line with how I reacted when you told me Joe didn’t like me back.’

Kay took a sip from her drink and shrugged. ‘That’s OK.’

She wondered if she’d have found it as easy to forgive Harry if he had approached her with such a direct apology as soon as they’d bumped into each other in Prague. She wasn’t sure she would have. Tina’s behaviour had hurt her, but it hadn’t been entirely out of character. They’d been close friends and Kay had missed her, but it hadn’t felt like a betrayal, just something inevitable brought about by her gift. A lesson learned about keeping it to herself.

‘I blame all the books and TV. They’re always telling us when boys are rude to you it means they like you. Sexual tension, blah-blah. No. Turns out they really just think you’re their little sister’s annoying friend.’

Kay burst out laughing. ‘Fiction has a lot to answer for.’

‘Older brother’s best friend trope, huh?’ Tina smirked and Kay forced a smile as her laughter faded. There was the Tina she remembered; tongue as sharp as a sewing needle. The pricks might be small, but they could still draw blood. ‘Shall we get started?’

Tina set to work with a mixture of make-up and magic. Nothing permanent, but as she applied minimal blush, Kay’s cheeks naturally pinked, as did her lips under the application of the lipstick. She took her glasses off and kept her eyes shut as Tina worked on the puffiness and bags from lack of sleep, feeling the skin tingle and rejuvenate beneath the smoky eyeshadow.

Opening her eyes briefly for the mascara application didn’t compromise anyone’s privacy; she was sitting so close to Tina the bonds between them were just a glimmer in her periphery as Kay fastened her gaze on a high point. When that was finished, she slipped her glasses back on and smiled at her reflection. Roadkill she wasn’t, thank the Goddess. And – even better – Tina’s magic wouldn’t fade until the following morning.

As she worked Kay’s hair into an updo that involved a thick plait across the top of her head, pushing her hair forward and allowing tendrils to escape artfully around her face, there was another knock at the door.

This time, Chelsea flung it open, causing a shriek from Erin, who was being helped into her second layer of Spanx by Sandy. Both women hit the deck behind the bed like a gun had gone off, and everyone else broke out with laughter. Kay still had it on her lips when she looked over to the door and saw Harry stood there with a familiar-looking dark-haired young woman – his cousin, Becca. She was the photographer, it turned out. Was there a witch in Biddicote not working on this wedding?

Harry had changed, into a pair of light blue jeans and a beige cable-knit sweater, and looked like he should be posing for an aftershave commercial, broad shoulders hunched, hair windblown, in the middle of a forest. His blue eyes met hers in the mirror, lips parting, and she felt like she was the one who had taken the bullet to the chest, heart stuttering and heat blooming.

‘So, you’re the hero of the hour?’

He dragged his gaze away as Chelsea spoke to him. She was looking him up and down with a slow smile.

‘This is your place?’

‘My parents. They’re the heroes. I’m just … helping.’

Sandy came out from behind the bed, tightening the belt on her dressing gown. ‘We’re so grateful.’

‘Yeah, if there’s any way we can thank you,’ Chelsea flicked her hair over her shoulder and Harry winced and took a step back towards the door.

‘No need. You’re busy and I should get going.’

‘You’re coming to the service and the reception?’ Sandy checked.

‘I’ll do my best.’ He stuffed his hands in his pockets and backed out the room, with a final, darting glance at Kay. ‘Give me a shout if you need anything. Becs knows where to find me.’

‘Oh, we will,’ Chelsea hung out of the door into the hallway, calling after him as he presumably escaped. She closed the door and scanned the rest of the women with a devilish grin. ‘I call dibs if he’s at the reception.’

‘Before you say anything more,’ Becca said, unhooking the camera bag from her shoulder. ‘I feel I should point out; Harry is my cousin.’ She glanced at Kay for a long moment and Kay wondered if she’d recognised her too from the festivals at the Hall when they were kids. Back before Kay had had the courage to talk to Harry and just had to be content with watching him from across the function room.

‘That is bad luck for you,’ Chelsea retorted. ‘Tall and cute and loaded and—’

---