I Put A Spell On You. Kerry Barrett

– a hope – that Louise was gay, but I didn’t say anything. Interrupting Esme mid-rant was more trouble than it was worth.

      “So, I was feeling a bit contrary when I met Xander anyway, and he wanted me to teach him, and you said I wouldn’t have time…”

      “Ah,” I said. “It’s my fault.”

      She scowled at me over the top of her hot toddy.

      “No,” she said. “I just felt like I couldn’t say no.”

      “So what happened?” I asked. “At the lesson?”

      “Xander rang me and asked if I was free,” she said.

      “But you weren’t free,” I pointed out. “You were at work.” Esme never left work early.

      “I know,” she said. “But I felt rotten with this cold, and suddenly I just wanted to get out of there.”

      I was amazed. And uneasy. Xander was handsome and charming and funny – but so was Jamie, and I’d never known Ez to leave work early for him.

      “I met him in Princes Street Gardens, by the clock,” she said. “We just walked really. It’s all because of you, H, that he wants to learn magic. He wants to help you.”

      That was sweet, I had to admit. Xander was protective of me, which I’d found very odd to begin with. I was used to being fiercely independent and just getting on with stuff. Sometimes I liked him looking after me. Sometimes it annoyed me massively. Today, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

      “So you just walked,” I said. “Did you touch him?”

      “Harry!” Esme said in mock outrage. “I’m an engaged woman. I wouldn’t touch another man.”

      “Did you touch him?” I asked again.

      “It was cold in the park and I took Xander’s arm as we walked and chatted,” she said sulkily. “That’sokay, isn’t it? We’re friends. It didn’t feel wrong.”

      “What did it feel like?” I said.

      “It felt nice,” she said. “Warm, mostly.”

      I let it drop.

      “And what did you teach him?”

      “Mostly he wanted to know about Star,” she said. “And why you couldn’t save her.”

      “No one could save her,” I said, feeling my stomach plummet again, like it did every time I thought about Star.

      “So what did you say?”

      “I told him that when someone, or something’s gone, it’s gone,” she said, squeezing my hand. “I said that we can’t raise the dead. What we do is a kind of extension to real life. We can speed things up, or slow them down, or intensify things. Not create things out of thin air.”

      I nodded, relieved that she’d explained it all so well.

      “And did he understand?” I asked. I was desperate to know Xander didn’t blame me for Star’s death.

      “Oh completely,” Esme said. “It’s funny…” She trailed off.

      “What?” I said.

      “When I was telling him stuff – like the rules of three and whatever – I got the impression I was telling him things he knew already.”

      I screwed my nose up.

      “He’s probably picked some stuff up,” I said. “He’s always been interested.”

      “I guess so,” Ez said. “He asked how often I do magic.”

      “What did you say?” I asked. Despite my best efforts, Esme still didn’t do a lot of magic, preferring to do things like actually clean the loo or wash the dishes with her own fair hands. I’d almost given up trying to persuade her that spells were the way forward. Almost.

      “I told him the truth,” she said, sounding surprised. “Hardly ever, I said. I told him I use it more now than I used to, but still not much. I sometimes tidy the flat with it. I’ve been known to make a bus come quicker. And I do protective enchantments if a friend’s in trouble. But that’s about it.”

      I was pleased, reluctantly. I’d thought Esme might try to big herself up magic-wise, just to impress Xander.

      “So what are you going to teach him?”

      “More rules, I guess. They’re so important. And I can go through some incantations with him.”

      She looked serious.

      “I suppose I should warn him that I can’t guarantee it’ll work,” she said. “I have no idea how much is learned and how much is innate.”

      I didn’t know either.

      “I couldn’t teach Natalie anything,” I said, remembering how keen she’d been to learn at first and how quickly she’d grown to resent it. “Not even basic stuff. She just couldn’t do it. I reckon Xander might be different, though.”

      Esme nodded.

      “Yes,” she said. “I think he might be. And he’s so desperate to learn – he just wants to keep you safe.”

      “I can keep myself safe,” I said, bristling.

      “He wanted to know if we could harm someone who’d harmed us,” Esme said. “But I reminded him that witchcraft – at least our kind – was based on goodness and that any negative spells would return on the witch threefold and taught him that we harmed no one.”

      That was exactly what Xander had told me she’d said.

      “And what did he say to that?” I asked.

      “I think he was a bit disappointed,” Esme said. “But we didn’t talk about it for long.”

      “I’m not sure these lessons are a good idea, Ez,” I said. “I’m not really comfortable with Xander’s views on magic, and” – I paused, knowing I was about to annoy her – “I think you’ve got a bit of a thing for him.”

      “I have not got a thing for him,” Esme said, as crossly as her bunged-up nose allowed her to sound. “I love Jamie. Xander’s just a friend.”

      I kicked myself inwardly for mentioning it. Now she’d go all contrary again and be arranging another lesson before I could say incantation.

      “I’ll ring him tomorrow,” she said. “Arrange another lesson.”

      See.

      “All right,” I said, getting up and rubbing her hair, the way I knew she hated. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

      She grinned at me.

      “Don’t worry,” she said. “I can look after myself.”

       Chapter 8

      The next day was chaos in the spa. Malc had saved some of our stuff to the ‘cloud’ – I pictured folders floating gently in the sky – so he was gradually retrieving a few bits. I had some things saved on my laptop, too, and by an amazingly fortunate quirk of fate (if you believe in those, which I don’t) I’d saved our entire database to a memory stick a few weeks earlier. I’d intended to use it to send out a Christmas email from home and never got round to it. When I’d found the little stick (in the fruit bowl would you believe?) I’d kissed it joyfully. I copied it on to my laptop straightaway. I even thought about asking Esme and Jamie to do the same, just to be sure, but dismissed the idea almost as fast. I was just being paranoid. What we didn’t have was our appointments diary – it had all been on Star’s computer and it was gone. All morning people were turning up for appointments we didn’t know about, and I had therapists wandering into reception and saying things like: “Anyone here for acupuncture?”