The Chocolate Collection. Trisha Ashley

pair of firesticks. Interesting – he must demonstrate these weapons when he has them.’

      ‘Actually, I don’t think they are weapons, Grumps, just a form of entertainment, like juggling. One of his friends has been letting him use his, but he wants his own.’

      ‘Everything is a weapon when used the right way, Chloe. Do not underestimate the power of light or fire.’

      I thought that was a bit of a sweeping statement, but let it pass because Grumps can be really weasely in arguments, so I often found I’d switched to his side without realising it and was arguing against my own original point. Jake was getting to be good at this too. Perhaps he could become the first Goth politician in the House of Commons? Or the post of Black Rod could become that of Black Firestick? That would liven things up a bit.

      ‘Those cleaners Felix recommended were extremely thorough,’ Grumps was saying approvingly, and it was true, because both the cottage and house sparkled, and here in the museum the glass display cases had been cleaned and polished inside and out, and the mahogany desk by the door shone like oiled silk.

      ‘Oak floors,’ Grumps pointed out, ‘very fortuitous for our meetings.’

      ‘Yes, I suppose if you can’t meet in an ancient oak glade, at least here you will have the equivalent under your feet.’

      ‘True.’

      I would be able to stop worrying about him catching a chill, too. Performing magical rites totally starkers might sound kinky, but actually Grumps’ love of nudity harks back to a more innocent age of healthy naturism and has nothing to do with any Five-fold Kiss or Great Rite goings-on. In fact, when Granny was alive, she used to go and sit on the sidelines as a sort of indulgent chaperone, knitting, with flasks of hot tea to thaw everyone out afterwards. Zillah took over the role, but she told me these days she usually stayed in the car instead, smoking and reading magazines by torchlight, till the coven came back.

      ‘Well, if you don’t need me, I’ll go and start sorting out the unpacking in the cottage—’ I began.

      ‘Ah, but before you go, there is something I need your assistance with, Chloe. Here, take this compass and box of chalks and I will bring the maps and yardstick.’

      It appeared that he wanted me to help mark out a huge pentagram on the floor at the far end of the museum, which he obviously deemed to be of much more importance and urgency than my unpacking.

      But there was never any point in trying to deflect him from a course he was truly determined on, so I meekly took the chalk and did what he told me. Naturally, this involved a lot of measurements and constant references to a largescale map, on which he had drawn the conjunction of the two important ley lines.

      Well, that was fiddly, but eventually it was done to his satisfaction and I promised to buy a huge roll of masking tape and some hard-wearing paint later that morning and make the pentagram permanent.

      The windows, which were fortunately mostly at the back of the building, were to be hung with dark blue velvet, and a curtain of the same material would frame the pentagram end of the room, a bit like a stage, so that area could be shut off when the museum was closed.

      ‘The curtains are delayed. They should have been delivered today, but they have promised they will be finished by the end of the week – in good time for the full moon, you know.’

      ‘Oh? Well, I hope they do, because it’s a big job to complete so quickly, isn’t it?’

      ‘They will finish in time,’ he stated positively, then cast a satisfied eye around the room. ‘It will all work very well: the visitors will think the pentagram is part of the exhibition, since there will be an illustrated history of the Old Religion hung around the walls at that end.’

      ‘They have something similar in the hall at Winter’s End, Grumps – but mostly about Alys Blezzard, the family witch.’

      ‘She was little more than a herbalist, like Hebe Winter,’ he said dismissively. ‘But my history will be comprehensive and all-embracing.’

      ‘Do you know Hebe Winter, Grumps? I haven’t met her, though I have seen her about.’

      ‘Our paths have crossed once or twice in the past.’ He delved randomly into the nearest packing case and came up with a particularly scary-looking Balinese mask. ‘Now, why would that be in the Fetish box?’

      My reply was drowned out by a thunderous knocking at the museum door, which proved to be two workmen with the freshly repainted museum sign.

      We went out to see the board fixed into place over the entrance door, standing at the edge of the pavement out of the way of the ladders.

      Across the road old Mrs Snowball, who had evidently just finished her daily paving stone purge, called ‘Coo-ee!’ and flapped a hand at Grumps.

      He bowed in her direction, gracefully doffing his fez, before turning back to admire his sign:

      GREGORY WARLOCK’S MUSEUM OF WITCHCRAFT A CELEBRATION OF ALL THINGS PAGAN

      There was also a folding wooden billboard that would stand on the pavement outside the door when the museum was open, enticingly listing the delights to be obtained inside and also the charges for entry.

      I hadn’t had any hand in this, so I read with interest that the museum would open from two until four on five days a week, from Easter to September, and weekends only off-season.

      ADMISSION: FOUR POUNDS NO CONCESSIONS NO CHILDREN UNDER 12 YEARS OF AGE PARKING AT REAR OF BUILDING

      ‘We have plenty of time to get it ready if you mean to open in early April, Grumps.’

      ‘Yes, though all the exhibits need arranging, and a guidebook and perhaps some pamphlets must be produced. But I am sure it can be done in time, and then Zillah says she will be happy to take charge of the desk when I am otherwise engaged.’

      ‘I don’t suppose it’s that much different from reading fortunes at the end of a pier, so she will probably enjoy it. And I can help out too, of course, if you need me,’ I offered.

      ‘You have your own little business to run,’ he said graciously.

      ‘Yes, but I can still give you a hand if things are really busy in peak tourist season. I’ll set up the Chocolate Wishes equipment this afternoon and then Jake’s going to see if he can reconnect us to broadband when he gets back, so I can print off my new orders.’

      That had to be the first priority, and then getting the cottage sorted out. But after that, finally, I could get at my potentially lovely walled garden!

      ‘Jake will work at the museum in his university vacations, I have spoken to him about it. For one day,’ Grumps added, with a magnificently sweeping gesture at the Old Smithy, ‘all this will be his. Except the little cottage, of course – I am arranging to have that transferred into your name.’

      Stunned, I turned to stare at him. ‘In my name? You mean…I’ll own it? But Grumps—’

      ‘But me no buts,’ he said grandly.

      ‘It’s so kind of you, Grumps!’ I stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, which he suffered me to do rather in Jake’s manner, though I know they both quite like it, really. Then an unwelcome and probably unworthy thought struck me. ‘But what if Mum comes back? Won’t she expect—’

      ‘Your mother has chosen her own path and deserves nothing more from any of us. If she returns after I’m gone, then I would strongly advise you to send her on her way again. Any share of my inheritance she might think she deserves has already gone to pay off her debts.’

      This was very true…and already I was feeling possessive about my little cottage! I was happy for it to be Jake’s home for as long as he needed it, but there was no way I could share living space with my mother ever again.

      Having finished their job the workmen packed up their tools and departed and Grumps fell back a bit, so that