The Language Of Spells Part 13

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Gwen gritted her teeth for a moment. Then she said, 'I'm not Gloria.'

'I know. I know I overreacted a little.'

Gwen opened her mouth in shock.

'I think I may have been repressing certain feelings. My yoga teacher says I'm very repressed.'

Gwen closed her eyes. 'What feelings?'



'Like how Mum only cared about you and how she thought I was a waste of s.p.a.ce.'

'That's not true.' Gwen shook her head. 'Mum was angry with me for not using my gift.' She put air quotes around the word even though Ruby couldn't see them.

'At least you had one,' Ruby said. 'She used to look at me like I was adopted. Like she was wondering who I was and how come I'd wandered into her house.'

Gwen remembered that look well. 'She did that to everyone, don't you remember?'

Ruby sighed. Then she said, 'Do you remember how she'd read someone's cards and as soon as she'd finished, she'd show them the door. Even if they were crying or whatever.'

'Oh G.o.d, yes. I'd forgotten about that. Do you remember Mr Barnes?'

They fell silent, remembering the shuffling form of their maths teacher as he'd struggled down the road, bowed with the weight of grief after Gloria had informed him that his wife had been cheating on him for the five years prior to her death.

'She didn't pull her punches.'

'Never,' Gwen said.

'Why?' Ruby exploded. 'Why did she have to be like that? The number of times we had to move after she p.i.s.sed off one person too many-'

'Preaching to the choir, sister.'

'You should ask her,' Ruby said. 'Have you phoned her about the house yet?'

'What? And told her that I'm living on the forbidden planet? Uh, no.'

'You should. If she shouts, you can always hang up,' Ruby said. 'Anyway, it's not the same. Iris isn't there.'

'No,' Gwen said, looking around the living room at the remaining dark purple walls. They seemed to press in on her. 'I suppose not.'

Chapter 8.

Helen B from number twenty-one has missed her third Sunday in a row. She usually calls in when she's walking that ridiculous dog of hers. Something is wrong, but I don't know what yet. It's probably that bitter little man she married. More fool her. I'm so tired today and I've been dreaming of the sea. I wish I could just stop. My mother used to tell me to 'mind my own beeswax' and I wish I could. I'm tired of all these people, all these lives. I didn't ask for any of this.

Still.

He is a nasty piece of work.

Gwen blinked. The light had gone out of the day while she'd been reading and she stood up and put a light on. She'd never felt so close to Iris; she was absolutely right. Helen B and her nasty husband had been none of Iris's business. And Marilyn Dixon was none of Gwen's business now. Gwen ignored the itch that started behind her left ear and travelled down her back, calling her a big, fat liar.

She flipped through the journal until she saw Marilyn's name.

Marilyn needs to learn to stand on her own two feet. She can't keep running to me for every little problem. She asked me to hex John from the corner shop today because he gave her the wrong change. That woman needs a hobby.

Gwen sipped her tea. Marilyn had wanted Gwen to do an Iris impression and had then backed off, saying she'd got help from a neighbour. Gwen was beginning to worry about exactly what kind of help. What if Marilyn had decided to stand on her own two feet, maybe with a bit of amateur hexing? That would be bad.

Cat stalked across the kitchen.

'h.e.l.lo, baby, are you hungry?' Gwen reached for a tin and dish, but Cat carried on moving. He paused in the doorway and regarded her, the crazy fur above his eyes like raised eyebrows.

'What? You want some tuna?' She tapped the tin. She wasn't going to get involved. She wasn't going to end up like Iris.

Cat didn't move.

'Lovely, lovely tuna,' Gwen said. Marilyn's anguished face swam into view. b.u.g.g.e.ration. 'You think I should do something, don't you?'

Cat sat back on his haunches and began licking himself in a pointed fas.h.i.+on.

'Oh h.e.l.l,' Gwen said and got her keys.

Gwen arrived at the Hearty Baker just in time to see Harry slip into a seat opposite a familiar suit. Cam. Marvellous.

Gwen pretended she hadn't seen them and went to the counter. The woman behind it was either in her fifties and wearing expertly applied make-up, or in her forties and had lived life with enthusiasm.

'Mrs Conatello?'

'Who's asking?' The woman arched a shapely black eyebrow. Her hair was elaborately combed above a colourful headscarf and she wore a bright yellow top with a low neckline. Gwen felt a stab of sympathy for the sour-faced Marilyn.

'My name is Gwen Harper, I'm a friend of-'

'I know who you are.'

'Okay. Good. Can I see Mr Dixon, please?' There had been approximately two seconds between Gwen deciding she'd try to help Marilyn and the Hearty Baker's sign swooping in to perch in her mind. She filed it under 'worry about later'. Once she'd checked on Brian. It should be easy to see if he was under some kind of influence. Gloria had taught her the signs and a luckily enough a the cure.

The woman reared back as if slapped. 'And why would he be here?'

Gwen opened her mouth to say 'because you're having intimate relations on a regular basis', but was distracted by Harry waving enthusiastically. c.r.a.p.

'Come and join us,' Harry called. Cam glanced around, his expression neutral.

Gwen gave him a quick nod and turned back to Mrs Conatello, who was busying herself arranging pastries on a plate. Two red spots of colour had appeared in her cheeks.

'Mrs Conatello, please. I really need to speak to Brian-' Gwen began, but at that moment the door to the cafe was thrown open with such force that it rebounded off the wall. A man wearing a grey jacket with sweat patches and a red face stood panting in the doorway.

'Uh-oh,' Gwen said. She recognised the manic gleam in the man's eyes and moved out of the way just as he vaulted over the counter, knocking a plate of scones onto the floor.

'Brian!' Mrs Conatello said.

'Oh, h.e.l.l,' Gwen said and retreated to Harry and Cam's table. Marilyn had definitely hexed her husband.

'That man just broke my afternoon snack,' Harry said dolefully.

Brian sank to the floor in front of Mrs Conatello, his bald spot disappearing from view behind the counter.

'Oh my G.o.d,' Harry said, 'that's gotta be unhygienic.'

'What?' Gwen tore her gaze away to glance at Harry.

'Is he ... He's not going to pleasure her, is he?'

Cam snorted. 'Get your mind out of the gutter. He's just talking.' He squinted at the counter. 'I think.'

'I can't go on like this, Mary.' Brian might've been invisible, but his voice carried clear and true around the cafe. The mid-morning crowd had all stopped and turned in their seats to watch. A family of tourists got out their cameras, perhaps thinking it was some improvisational theatre.

'Get up, you idiot,' Mary hissed. 'My husband's here.' She jerked her head at the kitchen door.

'I love you, Mary Conatello.'

Mary looked less than delighted.

'Ahhhhh,' said a good many of the punters.

'He's behind you,' shouted out one of the tourists, really getting into the spirit of things.

'Oh Christ,' Mary said, turning round. Mr Conatello stood in the doorway to the kitchen, a metal spatula in one hand and a filthy towel in the other.

'This gentleman fell over,' Mary said hurriedly.

'Staff only behind the counter, mate,' Mr Conatello said, looking down with a bemused expression.

'I need to speak to Mary,' Brian said. 'Ouch.' He looked at Mary with confusion and adoration in equal measure. 'You kicked me!'

'My foot slipped,' Mary said. She waved her husband through the door. 'I'll deal with this. You see to your eggs.'

'Sod the eggs,' Mr Conatello said, but he disappeared back into the kitchen.

Brian gazed at Mary. 'Darling, I thought this was what you wanted a we've talked about it.'

'Not. Like. This.' Mrs Conatello bit off each word. 'Have you lost your mind?'

'No, Mary,' Brian said earnestly. 'I've come to my senses. Will you marry me?'

'Isn't he already married?' Harry asked, sotto voce.

'So's she,' Cam said.

'Say "yes, honey",' one of the tourists called out.

The kitchen door swung open again and Mary stepped neatly away from Brian. She lifted up the flap in the counter and said loudly, 'On you go, Mr Dixon. It was just an accident. Nothing to worry about.'

Mr Conatello glared at the mess of smashed scones and crockery and snapped at his wife, 'Get this cleaned up before someone trips and sues us blind.'

Brian, looking bewildered, stumbled over to an empty table.

Mr Conatello glared at the rest of the cafe for good measure and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Harry turned to Cam, his eyebrows raised. 'Well, that was interesting. I didn't think PDAs were Brian's style.'

'I don't think he's quite himself,' Gwen said.

'It's not usually so exciting in here,' Cam said. He stood up and pulled a seat out. 'Would you like to join us?'

Gwen couldn't stop looking at Brian, who was sitting at a corner table looking dazed. There was a part of her that couldn't help but be a little impressed. Who'd have thought mousey Marilyn had it in her? Of course, she probably wasn't going to be thrilled with Brian's reaction, but it was clearly a powerful spell.

Harry stood, too. 'I'm getting a custard slice before someone else decides to take a dive.'

'Gwen?' Cam said. He was still holding the back of the empty chair.

He was just being polite, Gwen knew, but she felt a bit wobbly from rus.h.i.+ng to get to the cafe, so she sat down.

Cam glanced at Brian. 'He looks bamboozled. Wonder what got into him.'

Gwen stiffened. Cam wasn't suggesting Brian was possessed, but it was close enough to the truth to make her feel nervous. 'Do you know Brian well? Do you think he'd join us if we asked?'

'Christ no. He'll want free legal advice. Everyone always does.'

The bitterness in Cam's voice got her attention. 'That's a bit cynical.'

'You wouldn't understand.'

Harry appeared at the table carrying a paper bag and licking his fingers. 'I've got to go.'

Cam looked at his watch. 'But it's only half three.'

'Ah, the lightning wit of a keen legal mind.' Harry smiled cryptically. 'I'm on a secret mission.'

He turned to Gwen. 'Always a pleasure. Try to get our resident legal eagle to take some time off. He's grumpy when he's tired.'

'Nothing to do with me,' Gwen said, holding her hands up. At that moment, Brian rose and headed shakily towards the counter. He veered towards the staff-only door.

'Oh, no,' Cam said, standing. 'That's a bad idea.'

The Language Of Spells Part 13

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The Language Of Spells Part 13 summary

You're reading The Language Of Spells Part 13. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Sarah Painter already has 462 views.

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