Mathilda, SuperWitch

  She’s telling me?

  Aidan:

  I called him, no answer.

  I stopped by the Plumber Shop (or whatever it’s called) and even though his truck was out front, they said he wasn’t there. (Summoned a new SuperWitch power and sniffed them… unpleasant… sweating, most likely lying… bastards.)

  Josie says she hasn’t heard from him in awhile. She used to clean the Plumber Shop at night (Plumber Shops are cleaned?) and ran into him a couple of times. She knows nothing else about him except, “He seems nice and he’s really cute. He looks like that Sawyer guy on Lost except, obviously, cleaner seeing as Sawyer didn’t have a shower most the time because he was a castaway or he was fighting bad guys or running through the jungle or getting shot or tortured or falling out of helicopters and such.”

  No duh.

  (Seems Josie watched Lost and took mental notes… hmm.)

  I have tried to see him via a variety of sources, my (yay!) new crystal ball being one of them but failed.

  Am weirded out that I may have kissed an actual baddie (rather than just an in-my-neurotic-head-baddie) in way of Glenn Close in the Jagged Edge (though without the vomiting and hopefully Aidan is not vicious slashing killer but just charming witch hunter (what am I saying?)).

  The Mathilda Books:

  Eleanora Hobbs-Wilding did a number on the books. Her spell means the bad guys read one thing, the good guys read another thing, but when Mathilda Guinevere Honeycutt opens one of them, they say:

  Mathilda, it wouldn’t be good if you knew your future. Tell Mavis we say hello.

  Fucking Eleanora.

  Sebastian:

  Does not like nickname.

  Ignores me if I use it or gives me dirty look.

  I use it a lot.

  A lot, a lot.

  Got Rory using it. (Hee hee.)

  Have not had another incident a la making out, etcetera. This is good as Sebastian is a bad, bad man.

  He is bad because I started to have many a fantasy after incident in library but after one particularly, er, satisfying evening… came down to breakfast next morning to the surprise of Ash looking at me like a cat who got his cream.

  Realized belatedly have mind-meld with him (re: black dragon, etcetera, etcetera).

  Fuckity, fuck, fuck.

  Had terrible thought that he could see my fantasy!

  Drank coffee, ate cranberry orange muffin and watched him surreptitiously.

  When he got up to leave, he looked me in the eye and grinned!

  Sebastian… does… not… grin.

  Bloody cheek.

  He can read my mind!

  Demanded that Mavis tell me about black dragon gig. She said Black Dragon was Ash’s call sign a la Val Kilmer as “Iceman” in Top Gun. I was to use black dragon as my way of telling him I’m in trouble and need him.

  However…

  Get this!

  He is actually programmed into my mind so no matter what trouble I get into, say, even if I’m drugged and can’t think straight, he may have a way of finding me, helping me, etcetera, etcetera.

  Do not like this.

  At all.

  Told Mavis I didn’t like it.

  She shrugged.

  “I could do something about it, I suppose,” she muttered, “since I put the spell on the two of you. But I don’t think it would be wise. You could talk to Sebastian about it and see what he says.”

  Bloody right I would.

  I asked where Ash lived and she hemmed and hawed and finally explained he was staying in The Dungeons.

  (FYI: The Dungeons are not real dungeons, per se, but Su, Viv and I called them that when we visited. The Dungeons were the two bottom floors of The Gables which were built into the side of the cliff. It is kind of darker and scarier down there than anywhere else in The Gables. We avoided it as there were too many shadows which seemed to move when they weren’t supposed to and it freaked us out.)

  Took windy, twisty route to studded, wooden door that leads into Dungeons and knocked (heard loud echoes on other side of door after knocking, creepy, I really hate The Dungeons).

  When Ash arrived at door, he opened it (creakily) and leaned against the jamb with arms crossed on chest (his favorite position to look down his nose at people). Then he looked down his nose at me (could swear he had a little grin on his face).

  “Don’t eavesdrop into my thoughts anymore. We’ll get you a beeper or something,” I said, figuring I might scare him into complying with my supreme bossiness and confident demeanor.

  “No.”

  Obviously, it didn’t work.

  “Some things I think are private. Just meant for, er, me,” I told him.

  This was embarrassing.

  “Mathilda,” he said, exuding restrained patience, “you think of me… any time you think of me… I’ll know. Whatever it is. That’s the way it goes, that’s how I protect you.”

  “Well, stop it.”

  “I can’t.”

  “We’ll get Mavis to do something about it,” I suggested helpfully.

  “I don’t want Mavis to do anything about it,” he said and then grinned again. “I like your thoughts about me.”

  Ack!

  Sebastian is most provoking.

  (How’s that for a thought?)

  Chapter Four

  The Month of February

  2 February

  Status quo.

  Everyone is alive which I think is good.

  Had first month anniversary of re-opening of café as The Witches Dozen. We gave Mavis heart palpitations as Lucy and I gave out mini-cookie and coupon for free coffee drink to everyone who came through the door.

  Mavis said with some alarm, “They’ll come back expecting a free drink.”

  To which Lucy replied, “They’ll come back.”

  I think Mavis understands but still thinks we’re slightly crazy.

  I one-upped Lucy’s Red Cake by unveiling an American Angel Food cake with my Mom’s famous whipped cream icing (more like whipped shortening and butter with shitloads of sugar in it but that’s a secret).

  Although Angel Food cake is commonplace in The States, no one has heard of it here (had to get Viv to Fed Ex an Angel Food cake tin). I renamed it Hanna Belle Cake after my Mom – no one but tourists would know the difference.

  Cake was a huge success and even more so since I announced it’s fat free (not, of course, if you eat the icing with it but I explained you could scrape it off (if you’re insane)).

  Also important to note that Josie introduced me to Jigsaw and found Stila at Space NK and Jimmy Choo at Harvey Nicks in Cabot Circus. I’m surrounded by decent fashion (albeit not with good parking but such is life in England). Now can breathe easier about shopping situation (as in, don’t have to take the train to London every time I fancy a new sweater or need eye shadow).

  YAYAY!

  3 February

  New development.

  Was settling in to Movie Night with Lucy and Josie…

  Aside: Made the mistake of saying, in all innocence, “I don’t get the whole Taxi Driver, Martin Scorsese thing. I mean, I prefer the works of Rob Reiner.” (Seriously, though, wouldn’t you rather watch This Is Spinal Tap and see Derek Smalls going on about visionaries than watch Joe Pesci’s Tommy DeVito screaming about being funny?) You would have thought I said, “I don’t get the whole fallen chocolate soufflé cake thing. I mean, I prefer boiled rice.” Jeez. Lucy demanded the next Movie Night be “Dinner with Martin Scorsese”. Ack!

  Josie came in toting our Indian takeaway and still bitching about the garbage trucks doing collections during rush hour traffic. She’d been on about this all day, since taking Rory to school that morning (too cold for him to walk, not to mention our fear of bad guys hauling him away).

  I told her to shut up and dish up the murug makhni when she pointed her finger at the TV in a rage.

  There was Douglas Addison, prominent American neo-conservative senator for Colorado (in my opinion, the o
nly thing the modifier “neo” was good at being attached to was Keanu Reeves) and some say, next American President. Apparently, he was coming to England for some reason (probably to spread the word of the Lord whilst signing lucrative arms contracts).

  “That man, that bloody, awful man!” Josie shouted.

  Oh no.

  Josie was going to go all political again.

  Don’t get me wrong, I hated to hear my American Brethren going on and on and on about God and country. I dig God (don’t be surprised, witches are very spiritual creatures and respect others of like mind no matter who they worship) and I dig country but never the twain should meet (I was living in a country with hundreds of years of history that proved that sad fact).

  But Douglas Addison had something about him.

  Sure, he was a scary fascist but then so was Ralph Fiennes in Shindler’s List. You wouldn’t piss on them if they were on fire (talking about Ralph Fiennes’s character, of course, I’d definitely piss on Ralph Fiennes if he was on fire, mama mia, that man could be in a Brood Off with Sebastian and have a chance at winning!) but you had to admit they had a certain something.

  And anyway, Addison dressed like a dream. He’d graced the cover of GQ more than once in his political career. The dude was hot (in a tall, dark, dangerous, slim, fit, macho, scary fascist sort of way) and he knew fashion and I’d sell my soul to the devil for fashion.

  “Josie, save it,” Lucy said through a mouthful of biryani. “Tell the Council.”

  “Screw the Council,” Josie declared.

  Lucy stopped in mid-tear of her naan and I (lamentably) dropped a spoonful of pilau rice on the carpet.

  Josie didn’t say things like that.

  “I’m not going to tell them anything,” she stated. “They don’t do anything. I’ve been writing letters for years.”

  Then came the big announcement.

  “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em,” she announced pouring the entire contents of her container of lamb passanda over her rice. “And then beat ‘em.”

  Whoa!

  Girl Power!

  Yee Ha!

  A Councillor is Born!

  Watch out Glenda Jackson… you got company!

  5 February

  (Middle of night)

  (Little freaked out)

  Ran into Aidan at Tescos!

  I couldn’t sleep (BecBec has disappeared, maybe mad at me, so now can’t sleep without her whizzing around the room) so went to Tescos to get ingredients for sugar cream pie recipe I looked up on the Internet.

  There he was, trying to choose between crunchy or regular chocolate fingers (no contest, crunchy).

  I just stood there, staring stupidly at him until he noticed me and his body kinda jerked when he saw me.

  Could be two explanations for jerkage: 1) he was caught or 2) sight of me in my pajama bottoms, a sweatshirt that had seen better days, a five foot long scarf Gran sent me for Yule wrapped around my neck, no makeup and my hair twisted into scary, messy knot on top of head.

  “Matty,” he greeted and smiled. (Good recovery, dickhead.)

  “Aidan,” I greeted back (I’m so cool). “Where ya been?”

  “Busy…” Mm, yeah right, busy summoning the forces of evil. “I meant to call…”

  Ack!

  One of a girl’s most hated phrases.

  I waved my hand dismissing his excuses. “Listen Aidan, I don’t know your story but –” I wanted to say, “I’m onto your game,” in a menacing way but it would seem neither of us was going to let the other finish a sentence because he interrupted me by letting out this huge sigh.

  “We can’t talk here, but, listen… tomorrow night, midnight, meet me at your tree.”

  Wha?!?

  What does he know of my tree?

  “Excuse me?” I asked, all squinty-eyed.

  He looked one way then the other. “I know it sounds strange but just meet me at midnight, tomorrow night.”

  Is he nuts?

  “Alone,” he went on.

  Yes, he’s nuts.

  Then he took off, grabbing, I might add, chocolate fingers with caramel (interesting choice, one I must ponder).

  I came home without the ingredients I needed for the pie.

  And now I don’t know what to do.

  6 February

  (Morning)

  Woke up early mainly because I didn’t sleep.

  Mavis was in the kitchen making eggs.

  I told her about Aidan.

  “Oh, my dear, just go and remember to take your wand. You’ll be quite all right. If anything goes awry, you’ll be able to take on the likes of Aidan.”

  Then she sniffed as if the strapping, six foot tall Aidan with six-pack abs (I have not witnessed his abs with own eyes but figure he must have a six-pack) couldn’t take me.

  Think I need a second opinion (about situation, not abs).

  * * * * *

  (Mid-morning)

  Called Su (was middle of night her time but had first showdown with possible baddie on my hands so obviously an emergency – not to mention knowing Su, she had probably just got home from the local Deadhead bar).

  Told her the story and asked her what I should do.

  She said call her back when it was a decent hour (was wrong about Deadhead bar) then she called me a name and hung up on me.

  Decided again that I’m not talking to Su.

  * * * * *

  (Afternoon)

  Called Viv.

  Told her the story and asked her what I should do.

  She said, “What are you, nuts? Don’t meet a strange man in the middle of the night.”

  Told her about Josie connection and possible bad guy status and he knew about my tree.

  She said to go, take my wand and wear my cloak but, “Make sure to take Sebastian.”

  No way am I taking Sebastian.

  Viv doesn’t know anything.

  I’m clearly on my own.

  9 February

  Am in trouble with Ash.

  Though feel I did the right thing.

  Maybe in the wrong way.

  Still.

  * * * * *

  It was ten to midnight, had my wand, my cloak and I was off to my tree.

  Had been frantically studying freezing spells (Auntie Mavis’s cat Lulubelle was still frozen halfway across my sitting room by the time I got back.)

  Note to self: need to research reversal of freezing spells.

  Checked on Rory, checked on Josie, checked on Mavis… all sleeping soundly.

  Did not check on Sebastian and tried very hard not to think about him.

  There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, the moon shone on the channel and the trees were restless.

  And I was scared nearly senseless.

  Though I could tell it was cold. Freezing cold.

  Aidan was standing by my tree.

  I knew one thing for certain, if he hurt my tree, I’d zap him.

  Walked up to the tree and threw back the hood of my cloak.

  “Aidan,” I said.

  His body gave a start.

  I could have sworn he was watching me walk up to him but I surprised him.

  “Jesus,” he muttered, clearly he hadn’t been watching me walk up to him.

  Mm. No wonder Viv said to wear the cloak.

  Before I could say anything else, he said, “Listen, Matty, I don’t think it’s safe out here, maybe we should go somewhere else to talk.”

  Yeah right.

  I think not.

  I leaned against my tree. It was warm.

  Hmm.

  “I think we can talk right here,” I countered.

  “I shouldn’t be here. Jesus,” he repeated. “You shouldn’t be here.” And he looked over my shoulder. “We should go somewhere else. Now.”

  “Listen, Aidan –” I started then I saw them – the faeries all flew up from their hiding places all at once like hundreds of twinkling lights coming on out of nowhere – and zing, zang, zoom – they
started whizzing here, there and everywhere.

  Holy shit!

  It was really cool!

  “Let’s go!”

  That was Aidan, grabbing my arm and pulling me through the wood towards Poet’s Walk.

  “Aidan, stop!”

  That was me trying to pull loose. I didn’t know what was going on and I didn’t intend to go anywhere with Aidan.

  Then I saw them.

  Men.

  Three of them lumbering up the Walk, breaking off and heading into the wood… toward us.

  A tingle ran up my back when I saw the men – not a good tingle and not a good sign.

  Aidan pulled me up to him hard and I slammed against his body (mm – slamming against men’s bodies a lot lately… not bad but would prefer to do it when not on run or in middle of apparent life threatening situation).

  “Go,” he whispered in my ear, “go back to The Gables. Now!” Then he pushed me backward and I went flying, stumbled on my cloak and fell on my ass.

  As I was scrambling to get my limbs in order, I saw Aidan charge ahead, duck down and hit one of the men in the stomach on a running tackle. I watched the guy going up, flying over Aidan and landing on his back while I got to my feet.

  Holy cow.

  Then BecBec whizzed in front of me, scaring the bejeezus out of me so I fell back down on my ass.

  “BecBec!” I cried.

  She stopped, her wings shuddering, and she looked me up and down as if assessing if I was all right, and then whizzed away faster than I ever saw her whiz before, charging one of the other men.

  No way was BecBec gonna be able to take that man.

  Damn.

  I got to my feet again, pulled out my wand to help as BecBec’s whiz became a blur and she disappeared in a rocket of pistachio green pixie dust. The man she was charging came up short, like he’d hit an invisible branch and stumbled backward as she circled him for another pass.

  Aidan was grappling with another man while the one he tackled had regained his feet and was charging me.

  Ack!

  I had to do something.

  And fast.