A Witch in Love (22 page)

He handed Dad a business card with his number on and got into his patrol car along with his colleague, and they bumped slowly up the rutted track to the main road.

‘Bed,’ Dad said dully. His shoulders slumped and he leant back against the fence. ‘Good Lord. What are we going to do about tonight?’

‘Are our bedrooms OK?’ I asked.

‘Yes and no. The older bit of the house wasn’t really touched, as far as I can make out. But there’s no heating or electricity, and anyway the fire crew won’t let us back in until they’ve okayed the structure.’ He rubbed his face, leaving a smear of ash across his stubbled cheek.

‘Come back to ours,’ Seth said firmly.

‘What?’ Dad looked up, as if he’d almost forgotten Seth was there.

‘You can’t sleep here. Come back to our house. Tom, you can sleep in Grandad’s room – he won’t be using it in the near future – and Anna, you can sleep in my room. I’ll sleep on the couch,’ he added, as Dad raised an eyebrow.

‘But what about Elaine?’ Dad asked. ‘Won’t she mind?’

‘Mind? Of course she won’t mind. In fact, she’d give me an earful if she found out I let you go off to a hotel at a time like this. Please. Come on.’

‘OK.’ Dad looked too tired to argue, and I could tell he was relieved that we wouldn’t have to start looking for hotels and B&Bs at this time of night. ‘OK. Thanks Seth. We’ll come. I’m afraid we won’t be very good house guests though; all I’ve got is the clothes I’m standing in – and this.’ He held up a carrier bag with his wallet and phone and a few pieces of paper and photos.

‘Look, don’t worry.’ Seth put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m sure Mum’ll have a spare toothbrush. Anything else we can take care of tomorrow. Now, come on.’

So, wearily, we came.

It felt so strange lying in Seth’s bed. I’d been in his bedroom many times of course, practically every day some weeks, but I’d never stayed the night. I’d never dared. Not because of what my dad or Seth’s mum might say – they were both pretty liberal, and even if they refused, they wouldn’t bawl us out for asking. But because of me. I didn’t trust myself.

And now, here I was. Dressed in an old T-shirt of Seth’s that skimmed my thighs and lying between cool sheets that smelt of his skin. I put my face to the pillow and shut my eyes, hot with longing for him. Don’t lose it, I begged myself. Don’t lose control, not here, not with Elaine next door and Dad in the spare room. But I felt my hold slipping and to try to anchor myself I opened my eyes, in spite of my tiredness, and looked round the darkened room, at the band posters on the wall, the revision Post-its above his desk, the crumpled clothes in the laundry basket. It was all so normal, so lovely after the mad, suffocating grandeur of the Ealdwitan headquarters.

My eyes fell on the grey silk dress lying, like the ghost of my shadow, draped over a chair. I’d loved it so much – and now it made me shudder to look at it.

The events of the night swirled and jostled in my brain, and I wished that my mind had a stand-by switch I could just press for a few hours. Dad’s snores were audible even though the wall – it seemed so unfair that he could sleep in spite of everything: in spite of the shadows gathering around our lives, the Malleus, the Ealdwitan, our poor charred house.

Dad – oh, Dad. I felt sick at the thought of his narrow escape. I imagined the masked men creeping around the house with their lighters and bottles of fluid. If only I’d
been
there. My fists clenched and I felt the heat rise inside me and drew a deep shuddering breath.

Calm down. Calm down. There was no point in burning up Seth’s bed as well as my own.

I sighed and turned Seth’s pillow to the cool side as if that could somehow soothe away the thoughts burning in my head.
EX 22:18
. The letters felt blazed into my mind and, unable to lie still any longer, I got up and opened Seth’s laptop. Within seconds Google’s answer flashed up.
EXODUS 22:18, THOU SHALT NOT SUFFER A WITCH TO LIVE
.

Suddenly there was a noise from the doorway.

‘Anna?’

I jumped and whipped around, poised to slam down the screen before the intruder could read it.

It was Seth.

‘Oh, Seth,’ I choked.

He held out his arms, drew me on to the bed, and I put my face into the soft crook of his neck, and sobbed and sobbed. I don’t know how long I cried for – but Seth just held me without asking any questions, and at last I lifted my head and he kissed my mouth very softly.

‘Are you OK?’

I only nodded, and pressed myself closer, and he led me gently to the bed. We lay together, my head on Seth’s chest, his arms around me, and I listened to the sound of our hearts, my frantic drumming beat slowing, slowing, until at last it matched Seth’s slow, dreamy thud. I put my lips to his throat, touching the vein’s slow beat beneath the hot skin.

‘I love you.’

Seth’s lips were warm against my temple and I closed my eyes and whispered, ‘I love you too, oh, I love you so much…’

I felt his mouth form the words again, against my throat, my collarbone, the softness of my inner arm … My hands clenched and grew slack and clenched again, fighting the delight, fighting the urge to let go.

‘Anna, what’s wrong?’ Seth pulled himself up on one elbow and looked down at me. His face was shadowed and he traced a path down the centre of my forehead and nose with his fingertip, smoothing out the frown lines I knew were there. ‘You’re so tense. What’s the matter, sweetheart?’

‘How can you ask that?’

‘Oh God, I’m sorry. That was stupid. I know – your house, your dad.’

I sighed and sat half up.

‘Look.’ I pointed at the laptop screen. Seth read the words and then closed his eyes.

‘The writing. Oh God, Anna. They came for you.’

‘That was why I didn’t want you to say anything about Caroline.’

‘Screw Caroline. It’s you I’m worried about. What are you saying – there are nutters out there persecuting witches?’ His voice was horrified. ‘And they’ve tracked you down?’

I didn’t nod. I didn’t need to.

‘What are you going to do?’ he asked.

I shrugged. ‘What can I do? Wait. Try to protect Dad. Hope they don’t do anything else. They’re only …’
Only outwith
, I thought. But I didn’t say it.

‘But, but you’ve got to do something – tell somebody.’

‘Tell them what? That I’m a witch?’

‘No, not that – but the rest.’

‘Well, I have – we have. Dad called the police, didn’t he? What else can we do?’

‘Isn’t there something magical you can do?’

‘I don’t know.’ I rubbed my eyes wearily. ‘I’ll ask Emmaline. Maybe.’

‘And what happened in London? What happened to your clothes?’

‘Oh, Seth …’ I wasn’t really in the mood to go through it all again but Seth deserved some kind of explanation. ‘It’s complicated. I went up there to meet my grandmother – my mum’s mother. Dad doesn’t know,’ I added warningly, ‘so don’t say anything. I’m waiting for the right moment to mention it. Anyway she took me out to dinner and I wasn’t wearing smart enough stuff – so she lent me some clothes, but then we had an argument and I kind of stormed out. I forgot my bag.’

‘An argument? What about?’

‘Stuff. I’ll tell you later.’ I don’t know why I didn’t tell him, but somehow I wasn’t quite ready to admit that my grandmother was a member of the secretive organization that had tried to kill us all last year. I didn’t know what Seth’s reaction would be. I hadn’t even sorted out
my
feelings fully.

‘She’s got good taste, anyway.’ There was a smile in Seth’s voice, though his face was in shadow.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You looked
amazing
in that dress. When you came towards me at the station …’ He stopped and I heard him swallow in the darkness. The sound made me shiver hot and cold. ‘I just … I just wanted …’

I tried for a shaky laugh.

‘Let me guess, drag me off to your cave and rip it off with your teeth?’ It was meant for a joke, but my voice sounded strange and husky in my own ears. Seth’s fingers were playing with the frayed hem of the T-shirt I was wearing. I felt everything slipping. ‘I bet … I bet somehow your old PE T-shirt doesn’t have the same effect, eh?’

‘Actually … it kind of does …’ He bit down gently on one sleeve and gave the fabric an experimental tug. The saggy neckline stretched and slipped, and one of my shoulders was bare to the cool night air.

‘Seth …’ I was torn between desire and the knowledge that Dad and Elaine were only feet away. And then, as my other shoulder slipped free, ‘
Seth
. Please …’

He groaned and rolled away from me, lying flat on his back.

‘Oh, Anna …’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s OK. But you know, it would be nice. Some time. Don’t you think?’

‘It would be nice,’ I said, and I couldn’t keep the longing out of my voice.

‘What is it, sweetheart?’ He rolled over on one elbow and I felt him looking down at me in the darkness. ‘I can tell you want to, don’t you?’

‘I do, I really do. It’s just …’

‘What?’

‘I’m afraid.’

‘I understand,’ he said very quietly. ‘I really do. But we could be really careful, take it really slow. Take, you know. Precautions and stuff.’

‘What, condoms and things?’

Perhaps my surprise showed in my voice because he said, ‘Yes, why, what were you thinking of?’

I bit my lip.

‘Nothing. But that’s not really what I was worrying about.’

‘Then if it’s not that – what?’ He took my hand in the darkness and I felt his fingers rub the smooth stone of the seaglass ring. ‘You love me, right?’

‘Yes.’ Oh God, yes.

‘And you know that I love you?’

The silence stretched between us.

‘Anna?’ he said, and his fingers tightened on mine and then let go. ‘You
know
that I love you, don’t you?’

I felt for his hand again and interlocked my fingers with his.

‘Yes,’ I lied. ‘I know.’

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Y
ou could smell the house before you reached it. Dad and I stood in the dew-wet field, and looked at the blackened, water-logged ruins of our home. The sharp smell of charred wood mingled with the damp earthen scents of the wood.

As we watched, a gust of wind came off the sea, rustling the few brown leaves still clinging to the trees, and a piece of rafter shifted with a groan and crashed to the barn floor.

Dad sighed and we began to pick our way through the wet grass towards the front door.

Up close, the damage to the house wasn’t quite as bad as it looked. Once you took out the smoke blackening, and ignored the charred ruins of the barn and the garage, the actual house hadn’t come off too badly. It was wet and smoky, and the kitchen was completely gutted, but the firemen had pronounced it structurally sound, told us to keep away from the barns and outbuildings, and left us to argue it out with the insurers.

The one good thing, as far as I was concerned, was that the horrible corrugated iron lean-to had gone. Melted into a pile of scrap metal. The devil had taken his own and claimed that manky bathtub.

‘Just as the house was starting to look ship-shape,’ Dad moaned gently as we surveyed the ruined kitchen. Grey sky showed through the roof. ‘As for the insurance money – it’s like getting blood out of a stone. Heaven only knows when they’ll finish their investigations.’

‘What shall we do about cooking?’ I was trying to be practical in the face of Dad’s glumness. We moved through to the less affected part of the house and Dad looked round the living room, trying to assess the damage.

‘I suppose we’ll have to set up a camp kitchen in here, or maybe in the dining room. Get a microwave. What we’ll do for washing up, I don’t know.’

‘Could we put a dishwasher in the downstairs loo?’

‘I suppose so.’ Dad opened the door and we looked at the space beside the basin, trying to work out whether one would fit. ‘The sink’s too small to be much use.’ He ran his hand through his tousled wiry hair and I stopped him and smoothed it down affectionately. His hair had the same tendency as mine; to turn into a crazed bird’s nest at the least provocation. Right now he looked like a dark-haired Einstein.

‘Who would do this though?’ he asked helplessly. ‘That’s what I keep asking myself.’

Guilt twisted my gut. Guilt and a strong desire for revenge.

‘Hello?’

We both jumped as the shout rang through, echoing in the silence. Dad raised an eyebrow.

‘Are you expecting anyone?’

‘No.’

We both walked back through the smoke-smelling rooms towards the back of the house and I tried to ignore the fluttering nerves in my stomach. Having half the back of the house blown off made you feel weird, exposed, vulnerable. With no way of locking up, I felt horribly aware that anyone could just walk in. Though admittedly, burglars and rapists were unlikely to shout ‘hello’ when they arrived.