A Witch In Winter (31 page)

When I woke again it was late and I could tell by the soreness in my bones that I’d slept for a long time, perhaps hours. I was stiff and my mouth was dry, but there was a delicious smell coming from somewhere. I opened my eyes. Seth was crouching beside me with a plate of pasta and pesto, peering into my face.

‘Oh! You’re awake anyway.’ He smiled, that wide, enchanting smile that always tugged at my heart. ‘I was just wondering whether to wake you.’

‘Hello.’ I smiled back, then struggled upright and looked at the plate. ‘What’s this?’

‘Breakfast. Lunch. Whatever you want to call it. It’s three p.m. so afternoon tea might be nearest the mark.’

‘Three!’ I was shocked. I pushed back the hair from my face and tried to get my senses back together. ‘How long do you think we slept?’

‘I’ve been up for a couple of hours. You slept from six a.m. until now.’ Then memory came back, and with it a dull feeling of dread.

‘Where’s Emmaline? Is she OK?’

‘She’s all right. Maya and Simon took her off to A&E. She was swearing like a trooper when they put her in the car, so I think she’ll live. They seemed to think her arm was broken, but that she’d be OK.’

‘Thank God.’ I felt weak with relief, and suddenly starving. ‘What’s that? I could eat a horse.’

‘Well, I can only offer penne.’ He gave me the plate and a spoon, then sat back, watching with a smile as I shovelled the hot pasta into my mouth. It burned my tongue but I barely noticed, I was so hungry. At last I sat back with a contented sigh and Seth laughed.

‘You looked like you needed that.’

‘I did. Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’ He sat beside me on our makeshift bed and ran his hand tenderly through my tangled, sticky hair. ‘Anyway, it’s me that should be thanking you.’

‘What? Why?’

‘I spoke to Abe. It sounds like you saved us all, Wonder Woman.’

‘Please don’t joke about it,’ I said uncomfortably. I suddenly felt wretched, fraudulent. ‘Anyway I didn’t. If anything it was all my fault. The Ealdwitan were after me, don’t forget.’

‘You’re not responsible for what those – those people … did, Anna.’

‘But that horrible crow!’ I cried, shuddering again at the memory of it. ‘You saved my life with that flare gun. And Emmaline – Bran was amazing. If anyone saved our skins it was you and Bran.’

‘Let’s just say, we saved each other. Thank God it’s over, and we’re both safe.’ His arm tightened around me.

Was it over? I wished I could be so sure. But Seth was probably right; the Ealdwitan had staked everything on this throw of the dice – exposure, defeat, destruction. Well, we hadn’t destroyed them. But we’d shown them that the Winter witches were a force to be reckoned with – and I didn’t think they’d be returning for a long time, perhaps never. So why did I feel so sad?

Perhaps because although last night had been terrifying, it had also been wonderful. With death looming over us, I’d been freed from the responsibility of tomorrow, free to love Seth. And now …

I sat, watching him, as he looked out of the window. Maya’s study faced down the hill, towards the harbour, and Winter was spread out beneath us, the houses tumbling to the sea, and the sea stretching out to meet the horizon, both so perfectly blue that you could hardly tell where water ended and air began. It was completely tranquil; I found it almost impossible to connect it with the strength and fury of last night.

I could have sat all dhavtighteay, watching Seth’s face, as he in turn gazed at the shifting loveliness of the waves. But perhaps I moved, for he turned and his eyes met mine, and his face was full of a naked, fearless love that almost broke my heart.

I
knew
he loved me. I knew it, with every bone in my body, every nerve, every cell. I just didn’t know why. And no matter what I did, no matter how many charms and countercharms and enchantments and remedies I tried, I’d probably never know why, not for sure. I’d never know whether he’d have found me in the first place without that ill-fated spell, or if we might have walked on separate paths for the rest of our lives. I remembered his voice, sobbing, urgent:
You can’t change someone’s soul with a spell, Anna – you can’t make them
love
, not real love, not like this
.

‘Seth,’ I said hesitantly, and I drew a breath.

There was a sudden knock at the door and I jumped, biting my tongue painfully.

‘What? Who is it?’ I snapped.

Sienna’s head came round the door, her expression apologetic.

‘I’m sorry it’s just – they’re taking Bill. And I thought …’

‘Of course.’ We both stood up. I straightened my clothes, and we followed Sienna out into the hall where two ambulance officials stood, their heads formally bowed over Bill’s covered body on the stretcher. As they lifted him I felt the tears well up unstoppably. It could have been me or Seth on that stretcher. We had started this –
I
had started it with that stupid, stupid spell. And yes, I’d finished it too. But Bill had paid the price, while I was safe.

Bill had given me that. He’d given me my life and Seth’s. Now it was up to me what I did with them.

Abe, Carl and Sienna followed the crew down the stairs to the ambulance. As the door closed behind them the noise of their feet on the stairs faded, until it was so hushed I could hear my heart beating.

I turned and found Seth looking at me, his grey eyes wide, full of quiet waiting. And suddenly I knew what to do. I owed it to Bill not to waste a second longer.

Two weeks later and the sombre memorials had been held for the lost townsfolk, Bill and Mr Brereton numbered among them. It broke my heart to hear the short reference to Bill, ‘A stranger among us for only one night, an innocent bystander like so many others, caught up in the violence of the storm,’ compared to the long, sickly eulogy to Mr Brereton: ‘A remarkable man, a steadfast friend, a devoted teacher who guided so many of the townsfolk, old and young through their education, growth and development …’ intoned the officiant. I had to clench my hands to stop myself from standing up and shrieking out the dreadful accusations that would put the record straight, expose Bill’s true heroism, giving his life for a town full of strangers, and Mr Brereton’s dreadful betrayal. Beside me I could see Emmaline was having the same dark thoughts. Her eyes were He00000 closed, the hand not in plaster was clenched until the knuckles were white, and she was muttering something under her breath.

It seemed cruel in the face of Bill’s death, but of course life went on. Dehumidifiers hummed in the harbour cottages, soaked belongings were stacked up outside houses for removal, loss adjusters patrolled the town, and delivery lorries arrived daily with new sofas, carpets and appliances. Some families – Caroline’s and Prue’s among them – had moved out to relatives, but further up the hill others were back in their homes already. The shops had signs in the window saying:
Damp, But Still Trading!

As the elderly fisherman down by the quay pointed out to all passers-by, it was not the first time Winter had been flooded, no, not by a long chalk.

‘We’ve scrubbed these here cottages down before, and we’ll scrub ’em again,’ he said sagely. ‘Aye, we’ll scrub ’em again. T’would take more than a pint o’ seawater to drown Winter.’

It was Emmaline who indignantly asked how much scrubbing
he
was doing.

‘My daughter’ll see to it,’ he said imperturbably.

Impossible though it seemed, things were starting to get back to normal.

One thing was decidedly
not
normal though. It was Friday night and I was going out on a date.

The whole thing was just excruciating, and to make matters worse Seth had been so mysterious that I had no idea where we were going or what was going on. I’d asked him what to wear and he’d said vaguely, ‘Oh, something nice.’

I’d spent the day sorting through filthy, sodden books in the school library and, despite showering, I still felt grubby as I riffled through my wardrobe, resolving, not for the first time, that I really had to get back up to London soon, if only to get something new to wear. I’d grown to love Winter in many ways, but I doubted I’d ever be resigned to shopping at Winter-Wear – Ladies’ and Gents’ Outfitters of Quality.

At last I found something I was reasonably happy with and dragged a comb through my unruly hair. Then I glanced at the clock and realized I’d better get going, Seth would be here any minute.

Dad gave a little clap as I walked downstairs. ‘You look
extremely
nice, my dear. I haven’t seen you look so dressed up in a long time. Where did you say you were going?’

‘Out,’ I muttered, rebelliously.

‘With?’ Dad prodded. I sighed. I wanted to roll my eyes and tell him to get lost, but I realized it wasn’t totally unreasonable to want to know where your only daughter was off to at nine p.m. on a Friday night.

‘Seth.’

A slow smile spread across Dad’s face. I wanted to kick him. ‘Really?’ he drawled.

‘Yes.’

‘Well I never. So would this be what they called in my young day
a date
, then, my dear?’

‘Mmph,’ I muttered.

‘Sorry?’

‘Yes! Yes it’s a damn date. We’re going out. Happy?’

‘Yes.’ Dad’s broad beam said it all. Something in his proud grin made me smile, sheepishly.

‘So, do I look all right?’ I asked. He put a hand out and touched my hair.

‘You look
more
than all right, my dear. In fact you look like your …’ He stopped, and although he was still smiling, I saw there were tears in his eyes. My heart began to thud.

‘Who, Dad? Who do I look like?’

His lips pursed, though whether in an effort to speak, or to keep silent, I didn’t know. He only shook his head. I took his hand pleadingly.

‘Dad, please. Please tell me. I look like Mum, don’t I?’

He shut his eyes and a tear traced his cheek.

‘Dad? Why don’t you ever talk about her?’

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered at last. ‘I’m sorry, Anna. I want to tell you. I
will
tell you. One day. Just … I
can’t
. Give me a bit more time. Please?’

The door knocker rang out suddenly in the quiet house and we both jumped. Dad wiped his eyes and coughed, and I went to answer it.

‘Hi.’ Seth stood on the doorstep. I groaned.

‘Seth – how could you?’

‘What?’

‘You’re wearing a
suit
! Why didn’t you tell me?’

He looked, quite honestly, breathtaking. The suit was completely plain, black with a stark white shirt, but it made Seth look anything but. The snowy-white shirt made his tan look all the deeper, and the severe, beautifully cut lines of the jacket somehow only served to emphasize the lean strength of the muscles underneath. It could have made him look like a fisherman dressed up as a stockbroker. Instead it made him look like a panther in evening dress.

He shrugged. ‘Sorry, I didn’t think of it.’

‘Do I have time to go and change?’

‘Why? You look amazing. Anyway, the answer’s no, you don’t.’

Despairingly I looked down at the little dress I had on, which had seemed perfectly adequate up until Seth’s arrival, and then I realized that nothing in my wardrobe was going to match up to Seth’s severe perfection, so this would probably do as well as anything else.

‘OK, whatever. Bye, Dad.’

Dad came into the hallway, his smile back in place. Seth’s appearance always seemed to put him into a sickeningly good mood.

‘Hello, Seth. Good to see you.’

‘Hi, Tom.’ Seth grinned back. The fact that they were already on first-name terms still hadn’t stopped annoying me. ‘See you later.’

‘Drop in any time, Seth. We’re always pleased to see you around.’

Grrr. Yes, he was pleased I was going out with Seth. I got it. Now could he please stop acting like my personal matchmaker? Surely dads were supposed to hate their daughter’s boyfriends?

‘Where are we going?’ I asked as we climbed into the replacement for Seth’s truck, a much quieter but equally battered Mini.

‘Wait and see,’ was all he said. We drove down the cliff road, past the shattered remains of the castle and I averted my eyes – I still hadn’t got used to the sight of the devastation yet, perhaps I never would. Then down the hill towards the harbour. Waiting at the quay was Seth’s little boat – or was it his after all?

I looked uncertainly as Seth stopped the car. It looked like Seth’s boat – but it was hung all around with lights, tiny twinkling fairy lights that glittered and sparkled in the calm reflection of the waters. Where normally there was a rough plank for a seat, now there lay a snowy cloth. And in the footwell was a basket.

‘What’s going on?’

‘Picnic,’ Seth said. He turned off the engine and we got out. ‘Better leave your shoes,’ he added, smiling at my heels. I kicked them into the back of the car and he leaped lightly into the boat and then held up his arms for me. I hesitated.