Page 36 of A Spell of Midlife Mayhem

‘Right.’ Of course you do. But toads? You could buy toads over the internet? Is that alive or dead? And what on earth did you do with them?

‘Anyway, I only call it “witchy things” because that’s what your grandma called it. Also, sometimes I forget words. You’ve got that to look forward to, my girl, as you get older.’

‘It’s probably not age. Your brain is still adjusting after the accident.’ I took a right turn, then cursed quietly. I should have gone left.

Aunt Ruth didn’t seem to care or even notice. ‘And we’ll enrol you in the witchy correspondence course straightaway. That will cover the basics.’

‘There’s a correspondence course?’ I took a left turn. Where the hell are we?

‘You’ll learn a few basic spells and the importance of nature communion, moon phases and so on. You’ll breeze through it. The harder stuff you have to learn by yourself afterwards, or with a mentor.’

‘But you can help me with that, right? The mentoring? At least, that’s what Mum said.’ I’d found the river and had a vague idea where we were now, which was nowhere near where we needed to be. But at least the direction I had to go was clear.

Aunt Ruth pursed her lips for a while. I glanced sideways again. What was she waiting for?

‘I hope to be around to help you when you get to that stage, Heather.’

‘What do you mean by that? You’re fine. Except for your paralysis. I mean, you’re not ill, are you?’

‘Are you taking the scenic route around Kingston for any particular reason?’

My cheeks burned. ‘Only because I still don’t know my way around. But look, we’re back on track.’

A few minutes later, I pulled into the driveway and parked. As I tugged the folded-up wheelchair from the back of the car, Raven rushed outside to help.

I opened my mouth wide in shock. Raven! Where had he been?

He gently scooped Aunt Ruth up in his massive muscled arms and deposited her in the wheelchair. Then he turned to me with a sheepish expression.

‘Um, I’m sorry about yesterday. It’s... ah...’

I jutted my chin forward. ‘There’s no need to explain. We only had a coffee, that’s all. If you had something better to do, I understand. It would have been polite if you’d told me instead of simply vanishing.’ My eyes narrowed. ‘How did you leave so quickly, anyway?’

‘It’s not what you think,’ he protested.

‘Is anyone going to wheel me inside?’ Aunt Ruth said. ‘Oh, upside-down thunderstorms! I forgot about the porch steps. How are we going to manage those?’

The steps! Oh no! I’d forgotten about them. Obviously, I had to sort that problem out. I’d arrange for a ramp to be built.

Meanwhile, Raven had lifted Aunt Ruth, wheelchair and all, up the steps and into the house.

‘Thanks, Raven,’ she said. ‘What would I do without you?’

I fetched the bags from the car. How useful am I going to be if Raven is around to do everything? And why is he almost always here? I frowned. He had avoided directly answering my question.

I followed them inside. Aunt Ruth was wheeling herself now, manoeuvring from the hall to the living room, followed by Raven. She swivelled around the corner with a quick dexterity. She seemed to be coping extremely well with her new condition. Had she accepted it and adjusted to it already, or was she simply hiding her emotions?

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ I asked Aunt Ruth.

She grinned. ‘I’ll make it.’

‘Oh, I can do it. You rest, Aunt Ruth.’

She ignored me and gestured towards the kitchen area. Her fingertips sparkled. My hair lifted and my top rustled as a warm breeze swept past me.

In the kitchen, the kettle lifted from its stand and glided to the sink. The tap ran, filling it with water. A cupboard door opened and three cups and a serving plate floated out to rest on the bench top as the kettle returned to its stand and switched itself on. Tea bags flew from a box to the cups. A drawer opened, and teaspoons popped out one by one. As the first cupboard door closed, another opened, and a tin dragged itself to the edge before the lid lifted. A selection of biscuits emerged. They flew to the plate and arranged themselves in a circle. The tin closed, dragged itself back inside, and the cupboard door closed behind it. The kettle turned itself off.

I stood shock still, eyes wide. The process continued until the tea was made, my jaw almost to the floor. How was she doing this? Oh, I need to learn how to do it!

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