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The Christmas Witch Page 17
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Movement on the palm house’s steps distracted her. A woman in a red hooded number was making her way downstairs. Coldness seeped into Mina’s stomach as the woman headed her way, drawing closer. It was who else but Gardenia, brazenly holding her chin aloft, even though the palm house clearly wasn’t open to the public at that hour. She was wearing a velvety Red Riding Hood costume, complete with lace-up boots and leather gloves. Mina was just grateful she hadn’t tried to glue herself to Jadon’s side recently … even if Mina couldn’t really lay claim to him herself.
Gardenia headed for the party entrance, winking at Mina. Talk about fashionably late. She should have known Gardenia wouldn’t miss a local knees-up.
‘Merry almost Christmas to you, Mina,’ the dark witch purred.
‘Happy Christmas,’ she chirped back, wishing she felt as festive as she sounded.
Nonna Rosetta sat with her eyes closed at the table on her back verandah the next day. Mina was seated opposite, watching on with her mum and Lotta. Before her nonna was a mini cauldron, smoke curling upwards.
It wasn’t the typical image of a family late Christmas morning, but it was all necessary. Her nonna was using her skills to check out Wizzy’s blood.
For Mina, telling her elders about the spell-selling had been as tough as she’d expected. Mortifying. They’d thrown all sorts of colourful Italian words at her. She’d never been lectured so much, on everything from potentially endangering vulnerable humans to putting other witch folk in harm’s way. While her elders’ magic didn’t always go smoothly, they didn’t risk placing the power in others’ hands. Still, the worst for Mina could be yet to come; the full brunt of the damage she’d caused might soon be laid bare.
Her nonna’s coffee-coloured eyes suddenly popped open. Mina’s heart sank, clocking her grave expression. Her elder waited a beat before speaking. ‘There are traces of magic in the blood.’
Mina swallowed hard while her mum fluttered a bejewelled hand to her chest. Lotta looked like she didn’t even know what to do. But it was official. Mina could no longer try to pin the blame for all the tragedy that’d occurred on someone—or something—else.
Nonna Rosetta, all of a sudden, held up a knobby finger. ‘However, it doesn’t appear to be your magic. There’s a blackness to it, and something else I can’t put my finger on. It’s not quite … right. But it doesn’t have your stamp on it.’
The air whooshed out of Mina’s lungs. Relief couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling plunging through her. Her nonna had nearly had her for a minute there. The guilt that had been hanging over her head like a noose for days, weeks, fell away, just like that.
Of course, she still felt terrible about what had happened to Nerida and Clive. But at least it wasn’t her spells at fault, her lapse in judgement in selling them. It was just an awful coincidence that her two most recent clients had experienced misfortune. While her heartbreak over her lack of a future with Jadon remained, she could be free of this. She’d learned her lesson the hard way.
Abruptly, she frowned. ‘Hang on, do you mean someone else could be selling spells? Like a city witch maybe, who’s less fussed about potency and our “code”? Could that be what’s showing up for Wizzy?’
Nonna Rosetta lifted her shoulders. ‘È possibile. Or maybe Wizzy copied another spell from the internet, to up their chances of success, or bought some potions at a New-Agey camp and didn’t properly follow the instructions. It’s hard to say. But, like I said before, it’s a good reminder that we should only perform such work ourselves, knowing we can handle it. We can’t help the entire world, but we can sprinkle magic in our patch when necessary.’
Mina hung her head. ‘You’re right—’
‘Yoo-hoo!’
‘Oh, no.’ Mina leapt up as footsteps crunched up the gravel drive. ‘The cauldron!’
The Vangelis were here. Somehow, it was time for their festive family lunch already. Where had the hours gone? Okay, she could solely lay the blame on herself, and her actions, there … Her mum reached for her tray of star-shaped anise-orange biscuits as a distraction and swept down the drive. Meanwhile, Mina got busy clearing the scene with her nonna and Lotta.
‘Buon Natale,’ her mother’s voice drifted down the drive as Mina desperately fanned the smoky air with a fly swatter. There was the sound of air-kissing and greetings from the guests before her mum carried on. ‘Before you move a muscle, you must try one of my biscuits, honouring La Befana, the fabled Christmas witch. It’s our tradition … Oh, ciao, Jadon and Teddy.’
Mina’s heart skipped a beat. She’d invited Jadon and his dad to the lunch before he’d made his little speech last night. Not that her mum and nonna knew that there was anything romantic going on between her and him. As for his plan to return home, neither of them had mentioned it since. At the party, he’d seemed to be waiting for her to raise the topic again, but then she’d fled into the night, saying she needed an early one to help with lunch preparations.
Even so, she couldn’t just sever ties with him after he’d dropped his bombshell. That’d be plain cruel. Her only plan so far was to wave him off at the airport, when the time came, then wait for a Milanese beauty to inevitably catch his eye. They could marry and have beautiful bambini away from Mina’s jealous, forever-a-spinster gaze.
The gift-wielding guests rounded the corner as Mina ditched the fly swatter and pasted on a smile. Her nonna and Lotta also feigned innocence, hovering about the table. No-one would have guessed they’d all just been seated around a cauldron as another woman’s menstrual blood bubbled away …
Mina’s gaze fell to Mr Eder shuffling with a walker at the back of the pack. It was so long since she’d seen his kind old face. She waved enthusiastically, not daring to look at his son just yet. Mr Eder grinned back. At least she was less worried about Jadon hanging out with her weird and wonderful family … okay, to a point. Nobody’s background was picture-perfect, after all. And perfect was kind of boring anyway.
Her mum directed the guests to leave their presents in a corner for distributing later, then she tilted her head at Mr Eder. ‘I know I’ve met you before, Teddy, as Mina’s boss, but are you sure we didn’t move in similar circles previously? Way before you had the antique shop? Granted, Hilforest’s bigger than your usual small town, but I just have this feeling.’
‘Oh, I’m not sure,’ Mr Eder said uncertainly.
‘Perhaps you had a fling?’ Nonna Rosetta snorted. ‘Sofia’s had more than her share.’
Perish the thought.
‘No, that I’d remember,’ her mum purred.
Inadvertently, Mina locked eyes with Jadon across the porch. The corners of his mouth edged up in a secret smile, just for her, and instantly her limbs relaxed. Hey, she might as well enjoy the feeling of having a special someone while it lasted.
Lotta hurried forwards to kiss Dino, rather enthusiastically, on the lips, as though erasing the taste of Riley from her own. What Mina wouldn’t have done to greet Jadon in the same way. She settled for playing with the skirt of her gingham sundress.
Somehow, she also got through the overgenerous spread her nonna and mum laid on without jumping on him. Or bursting at the seams. There was more food than she could have poked a magic wand at, from lasagna to schnitzel, casserole, potato bake, roast meat and veggies. She had to turn a blind eye when a full Mr Vangeli undid his fly and covered it up by untucking his shirt.
Soon it was time for enjoying coffee and cake and exchanging gifts while seated in the outdoor armchairs. Mina felt both excited and anxious about Jadon receiving her present. Who knew how he’d react? She swallowed more of her tiramisu, watching him return to his chair opposite with a mug from the kitchen.
Her mum acted like La Befana—the original one—doling out gifts with a witch’s hat on. She really knew how to push the limits. A few minutes in, she turned to Mina, holding up a large rectangular-shaped present, wrapped in white paper. ‘And here’s one for you, from Jadon. Watch out, it says “fragile”.’r />
Just like the state of their relationship.
With warm cheeks, Mina set aside her bowl and leant to grab it. ‘Oh, thanks.’ She hadn’t really thought about Jadon buying her a gift; she’d just wanted him and his dad to feel included.
The present felt smooth and solid in her hands. All eyes were on her as she flipped it over and got stuck into the sticky-tape. Peeling back the paper, she uncovered the back of a picture frame, as predicted. She turned it over and her eyes widened. It was the parrot painting from the botanical wares studio party—the painting her mum had used as ‘eyes’ to spy on the festivities!
‘Wow,’ Mina said, scrambling for appropriate words. Why was gift-giving always fraught? ‘It’s so colourful and … lifelike.’
Jadon swigged from his mug, jogging his knees up and down. ‘I remember you eyeing it off at that party. Thought it might go with your décor.’
‘Eyeing it off’ was certainly one way to put it. ‘It’s amazing,’ Mina attempted, the frame growing heavy in her lap. One place she definitely wouldn’t be putting the painting was her bedroom.
Her mother craned her neck for a look. ‘Ah, how … eye-catching.’ The scoundrel. She pulled a familiar blue-wrapped present from her sack. ‘What do you know? Your turn, Jadon, and it’s a gift from Mina.’
Nerves clawed at Mina’s stomach as he put his mug on a side table and reached for the gift. ‘Ha, thanks. By the way, before I do the honours, what sort of tea blend is this? I’ve been trying to cut down on coffee and found it in the kitchen. It tastes really … unique.’
Her mother readjusted her witch’s hat, looking suddenly nervous. ‘Uh, where’d you find it? We have a bunch of them.’
‘It was in a red canister on the cupboard, next to the phone. Hope it’s okay I helped myself.’
Her mother waved a hand in the air, forcing a laugh. ‘It’d be too late anyway if it weren’t, you’ve drunk half of it. Of course, la mia casa è la tua casa. I left it out for Mina to take home and forgot all about it. But it won’t do you any harm. It’s good for, um, digestion. It has a bit of rosemary, thyme, lavender and … a few other things.’
Mina narrowed her gaze, guessing from the ingredients what it really was—flashback tea! Her mum must have got it out earlier, thinking it could help nudge her on the Nerida/Clive situation if the cauldron-brewing didn’t work. Instead, Jadon would be randomly hit by memory flashbacks, while awake and asleep, until the tea’s effect had worn off in twenty-four hours.
Her mum gestured at his present, clearly trying to move the conversation on. ‘Anyway, don’t keep us in suspense any longer. Open that thing.’
‘It’s also a picture,’ Mina managed. ‘But a slightly different one.’
Jadon tore off the wrapping paper and stared down at the gift. A little line indented the space between his eyebrows. He rubbed his forehead, blinking hard. Surely he couldn’t be having some sort of flashback already!
‘My photo,’ he mumbled. ‘Blown up. I wasn’t expecting that.’
Indeed, it was his phone pic of the storm over the hills. She’d had it professionally framed as planned. Unfortunately, though, he sounded about as thrilled as she’d been about the parrot painting. Was he really that critical of his own photography? Their bad gift choices only highlighted how worlds apart they were.
Lotta’s phone jangled in her lap. Mina was grateful for the interruption, but her sister frowned at the screen. ‘That’s strange. It’s our wedding reception venue. I didn’t think they’d be open on Christmas Day.’ She took off down the drive to take the call.
As Mrs Vangeli gushed over an antipasto hamper she was handed next, Mina watched Jadon from under hooded eyes. He slid the frame back in its wrapping and under his chair without another glance. Ouch.
She didn’t have long to dwell on it, though. Seeming seconds later, Lotta reappeared, her face drained of colour. The laughter and chatter died out.
‘Our wedding venue,’ Lotta said hoarsely. ‘It’s been flooded. Something to do with leaky old plumbing. Apparently, there’s nothing the owners can do about it but return our deposit, gift us a free hotel stay for our wedding night, and profusely apologise.’ Her whisper turned into a wail. ‘But none of that helps. Our wedding’s eleven days away!’
Dino looked as nauseous as Mina felt at the news.
‘You could have the wedding here,’ her mum offered amid the others’ gasps and cries of horror.
‘We’ve got a hundred-and-fifty guests coming!’ Lotta shrieked. ‘How would they even fit?’
Mr Eder sat forwards in his seat, knocking his walker with a knee. ‘You could, uh, use my castle if you liked.’
Chapter 21
Lotta and Dino’s wedding had so far gone off without a hitch, and it was already up to the cake-eating part of the evening. Mina had switched from the bridal table to sit with her nonna to enjoy her slice. Her mum was flirting with the wedding band’s trombonist, during his break, across the dancefloor.
All day, the weather gods had kept the skies clear and warm. Even Mina’s fellow bridesmaids, complementing her in midnight-blue chiffon, had been on their best behaviour. One had actually put Lotta on to a brilliant catering company for the event.
And days earlier, Mr Eder had sent in his cleaning and maintenance crew to make sure every castle surface, windowpane and beyond gleamed. The packed ballroom downstairs made the perfect spot for the reception with its painted ceiling, pillars and mammoth chandeliers.
The grounds couldn’t have been more idyllic either. That hedging Mina had spied weeks ago when foraging for her nose-reducing spell? It was, in fact, a hedge maze, providing a fun backdrop for the wedding photos.
Not long ago, Jadon had even whispered to her that he hoped the successful event might encourage his dad to open the castle for other functions in future. It could well have been what he was chatting animatedly to his father about now at the adjacent table. If anyone could persuade Mr Eder to make a change, it was his son.
Ah, Jadon. Mina lifted another spoonful of lemony elderflower cake to her mouth, savouring the tart sweetness like it was her last moments with him. He was officially leaving in a week and things had remained in limbo between them. In Milan, he still needed time to put in notice at work and pack up his belongings. But she’d told him just to take things one day at a time, to see how he felt once he was on the other side of the world.
The last thing she wanted, she’d said, was for him to feel obligated to return. Constrained by her. She got the impression that he thought she was the one who was uncertain about the depths of her feelings, but what could she do? It was for the best. The end of ‘them’ was cruelly unavoidable. At least the flashback tea debacle hadn’t seemed to affect him too much. He’d only been slightly distracted and dopey for a day or so.
‘Hello, tigre.’
Mina glanced over at her nonna, who was now cradling a bundle of ginger fluff. The castle’s stray! Mina pushed her chair back, her eyes immediately itching. ‘How’d that get in here? You know I’m allergic.’
Nonna Rosetta carried on scratching the cat under its chin. ‘Oh, let me pat it for a moment. What a beautiful creature. It must have sensed I was a cat lover and weaved its way to me.’ Then, in full eccentric mode, she leant her ear towards the cat’s mouth as though interpreting its purrs. ‘Are you trying to talk to me, gatto? What do you want to say?’
Mina darted a look at the Vangelis opposite, relieved to see they were too busy eating their money’s worth in cake to notice. Her nonna might not have succumbed to any magical urges that evening, but, as usual, acting human proved harder for her.
Mina gave into a sneeze and scrabbled for a tissue from her glittery clutch. Mid-blowing her nose, she sensed her nonna stiffening beside her. She lowered her tissue. The cheerful look on her elder’s face had gone, replaced by a solemn, haunted expression.
‘This isn’t just a cat,’ Nonna Rosetta croaked. Her eye’s bore into Mina’s. ‘It’s a witch trapped in a cat’s body.
I think, though, she did it to herself. Something about wanting to stay close but not wanting to share her burden. She’s been jumbling all this up with something about … a rubbish dump?’
‘Oh-kay,’ Mina said slowly. Because, of course, the stray was a witch! Everything around her had to turn strange. Weird. She couldn’t go one day—not even on her sister’s wedding day—without something odd happening. It was moments like these that highlighted just why she could never have a normal relationship, a normal life. Imagine if Jadon knew the truth about the stray.
The cat/witch angled its head, pinning her with its olive-green gaze. Then it opened its jaws, hissing at her, before leaping from her nonna’s lap and disappearing under the tables again. Mina surrendered to another sneeze, making use of her tissue, while her nonna plucked a cat hair from her cake. Ew.
Unperturbed, her nonna picked up her spoon, dipping it into her slice again. ‘I wonder what that gatto was meowing about. Any clue? Do you think it could have sensed a fire at the rubbish dump, where Arlo works, or something?’
‘No idea,’ Mina murmured, her gaze catching on Lotta feeding Dino cake across the ballroom. She’d never seen her sister look happier, more radiant; half her luck.
Nonna Rosetta rested down her spoon and wrapped her crepey fingers around her espresso cup. ‘Well, after I’ve finished this cake, I might go look for it again. See if I can find out any more information, just to be sure.’
Nodding, Mina pushed her chair forwards again, dully spooning cake into her mouth. She could barely taste it, though, as a myriad of thoughts began whizzing through her brain. She thought about that stormy night with Jadon when she’d seen colourful, unearthly explosions at the dump, when the place should have been closed. She thought about Arlo meeting up with Gardenia, looking to buy a bigger place, and the shadows under his eyes. She thought about seeing Gardenia absconding from the palm house, mere days ago, before the corpse flower was due to bloom …