Chapter 11
Despite my misgivings, I was now sitting in the front seat of a monster truck. I wasn't, however, driving. Granny was. It was quite an experience to be alongside an old, previously demented woman wearing pearls as she clutched her hands onto the steering wheel and drove the car like a maniac. Yes, a maniac. She cut in front of people, tooted on the horn, and once or twice I swear she had been about to wind down the window and engage in some road rage.
I was ready to grant this car one thing: it had a fantastic vantage. You were so high up you could see everything. It also gave me a startlingly clear view of the sky above. I was becoming fixated on it. It seemed that every moment I wasn't worrying about my impending doom, I was staring off into those tumultuous clouds. The exact greys and blues seemed to haunt me.
“We have your car,” Granny said as she changed gears aggressively and zoomed past a small hatchback. “Next step is to get you a job.”
I narrowed my eyes and glanced over at her quickly. I hadn't known about this part. I’d thought we would head home, possibly over to the hardware store first to get some wood and hammers, and then fix the hole in the house.
Perhaps she perceived my misgivings. Taking her eyes off the road, and apparently not caring, she nodded my way. “We have to fix your whole life, dear, that includes everything. We need to get you a car, which we have done, a job, which we are about to do, we need to give you a sense of style, a sense of power, we need to fix the house, and we need to get you a man.”
It took me a while, but I processed what she had just said. The last bit. The bit about a man. I spluttered quickly, blinking hard, turning around and not caring that the seatbelt dug into my neck. “Sorry, backup, what do you mean get me a man?”
Finally my grandmother turned back to the road. How she hadn't crashed, or run over other smaller, insignificant cars, I didn't know. Magic was no doubt involved, that, or exceedingly good luck.
“You heard me correctly, my dear, and I imagine you understand what I meant. Though you don't complain to me, I hear you on the phone. If you aren’t whingeing about the dishes not being done and having to work so much, you're complaining that you are always so unlucky in love. All your friends are getting hitched, but you can't even seem to get a date. Not that you try, of course.”
I sneered; I couldn't help it. “That's not true,” I lied patently. “I am... happy being single,” I tried.
“You should be. There's nothing wrong with being single. But you are lying. Which means you are unhappy about yet another aspect of your life. If we change it, hopefully you will seem more powerful again, and if you seem more powerful, you will be more powerful. Trust an influence witch.”
My lips crumpled up, my nose crinkled, and I probably looked entirely unattractive. “Is this an intervention? You are treating me like I’m one of your clients. I understand influence. But I'm trying to tell you that I don't need a man. I don't need a monster truck either. I just....”
“Yes? You just what? Have no idea what you want? You only know you don't like what you currently have? I say currently,” she snorted quickly, “but that's not quite right. Because you don't have anything at the moment. You've destroyed it all.”
“Now hang on a minute here, I haven't destroyed anything. This storm,” I waved at it pointedly,” and the dark forces that are after me, they are the ones to blame.”
She flicked her gaze over to me, looked stony, and then proceeded to ignore me.
Which left me alone with my thoughts, which quickly spiraled into a nervous hellhole. Just what kind of job was my grandmother going to get me, and worse than that, what would happen if I let her play Cupid? What sorry soul would she drag up and try to make me marry?
Feeling my hands slick with sweat, I fixed the straps on my dress. In my grandmother's current mood, I guess I was lucky she hadn't made me wear a power suit this morning. But hey, it would no doubt be a long day. Before she was done meddling, I would be a new woman. A frightful one, quite possibly.
I didn't ask where we were driving to until it was too late.
As soon as I recognized the street, and the building and the car, I immediately reached for my seatbelt, unbuckled it, and prepared to jump from the moving vehicle.
My grandmother reached over and clutched her hand around my arm. “Don't be frightened. This is a logical choice. Your Aunt Tessa will most definitely have a job for you. A fitting job.”
My face could have fallen off from the fear chasing its way through me. “A suitable job? Are you out of your mind?”
“Not currently. I'm remarkably lucid, considering I have to save your life.”
I ignored her quip. “I can't work for Tessa!”
“Why not? It will be exceedingly good money. Money you can put to use buying new clothes, fresh fruit and vegetables, and a mirror so you can see yourself practicing your new powerful, deadly glares.”
My grandmother pulled up next to the curb, though I say next – it was on it. She rode up it like she was parking on a mound. Then she opened the door and jumped out deftly.
I followed suit, but my moves were far less coordinated, and once or twice the wind flicked my skirt up around my thighs. Tugging on it demurely, closing the door as best I could, I walked around to her. I looked her right in the eye, hoping that she would understand me. “I am not going to become a private investigator.”
She stared at me. Maybe she noted how serious I was, but in a moment she waved me off. “Yes, you are,” she said in a far stricter tone, utilizing more power and determination then I had the capacity to give.
With that she locked the door and ushered me forward.
For a moment I stood there in the street, looking left and right, wondering whether now was a good time to run and take my chances on my own. Though it was inviting, I wouldn't get very far. Not because I didn't know how to handle myself, but because my grandmother was right; I was a target ready to be shot. A lonely and lost lamb wandering around in front of the wolf den. If I ran off down an alley, I could guarantee I wouldn’t get halfway along it before some shadowy figure would pull out of a wall and tug me down to hell.
That fact didn't make it any easier though. I actually had to close my eyes, wincing them as tightly shut as I could, as I followed her through the plain black door before us. We climbed three flights of stairs, then out into a hallway, and in moments we were standing before a relatively plain door with the words “Aunt Tessa’s Private Investigator Agency” written across in neat gold paint.
Why she had called it Aunt Tessa’s Agency, I didn't know, though I could guess. Everyone in my family seemed to call themselves by their title; Fred wasn't just Frederic Sinclair the lawyer, he was Uncle Fred Sinclair the lawyer, as if everybody was his niece or nephew. And when my grandmother was up to receiving visitors, she always insisted they call her grandmother. It was a Sinclair family thing. Another one of our exceedingly odd eccentricities that set us apart from all the normal in the world.
As my grandmother strode forward, she didn't even have to knock on the door. Immediately it opened and a statuesque woman in a powder blue suit opened it.
Aunt Tessa. She looked like a Greek goddess; powerfully tall, with regal features, and locks of golden hair. But don't get me wrong, you wouldn’t put her on the catwalk. Because although she had all the ingredients that would sum to make a very attractive package, she had this searing, burning quality about her that reminded you of the insides of a bomb.
“Grandma,” Tessa nodded her head.
“Aunt Tessa,” my grandmother replied. Which was odd, because Tessa was one of her children, not her aunt. Another peculiar tradition of the Sinclair family.
“What ails you?” Tessa nodded at her mother, then darted her gaze straight to me. “You've lost your job? You're here to see if I can give you one? I suppose I can,” she looked to the side quickly obviously thinking hard.
There was no point in me replying; I didn't have to participate in this conversation at
all, Tessa would be able to glean the facts just by looking at me. She was a witch, after all.
She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway. “I have to admit, I don't consider you detective material. You're too scatty, Esme. And while you practice influence magic, you'll find a quick fireball never goes astray in our field of work. Are you sure you want to work for me?”
As she asked her question, she directed her gaze off me and landed it on Granny.
It was as if I wasn't even in the room, or worse than that, as if I was a child waiting for my parents to make up their decision.
“Oh she is very sure, trust me, this is absolutely what she wants to do,” Granny nodded vehemently.
“Okay,” Tessa finally pushed herself off the door frame and waved us inside. She immediately walked over to her desk, rummaged around in a drawer, brought out some paper, grabbed a pen, and shoved it all at Granny. “Here is the contract, sign at the bottom.”
“Sorry, but I'm still in the room. Shouldn’t I be the one to look over the contract, shouldn't I be the one to sign it? Plus, I'm not even sure if I want to be a PI. I think I would be horrible at it.”
“You will be horrible at it, but I'm sure you'll get by, as you always do,” Tessa conceded with a nod, clearing a space on her desk so Granny could sign the paperwork.
I stood there, unreasonably startled at what was happening. It was unreasonable because I had grown up with these people. I knew the Sinclair family through and through, so their antics should not be surprisingly. And yet here I was as my grandmother was signing me up for a new job, one I didn't want, and one my new boss clearly thought I was incapable of.
“The pay won’t be good to begin with, but you can work your way up. I'll put you on the easy cases to start with, maybe just a little paperwork for now, lost cats, wayward mail, that kind of thing. Nothing big, nothing that will bring you unwanted attention,” Tessa leaned back in her chair, her statuesque form casting a shadow over the desk as the sun managed to spike through the clouds outside.
“Lost cats, yes, that will do for now. Once she is powerful again and has gone through this weak, wimpy stage, we can get her something a little bit harder,” my grandmother finished signing the papers and handed them back.
I was shocked. I spluttered loudly. “But I wouldn’t have the first idea how to be a PI. I really don't think I have any detective skills.”
“Don't worry, I will beat them into you,” Tessa smiled.
My grandmother laughed.
This couldn't be happening.
As I opened my mouth and prepared for a much-needed barrage, the sun that had managed to peek through the clouds suddenly went out.
A cold, harsh breeze sliced through the barely open window to Tessa’s side.
Both Tessa and Granny turned to it sharply. I could see how quickly their skin paled, how their breaths stuck in their chests.
Then I felt it, all too late.
Something ominous. Like the sound of twigs snapping behind you in the forest. Like the sudden blink of headlights when you are hiding by the road.
The first hint that something is after you.
Tessa leaned over and closed the window with a bang. Then she stood, pushed her hands into the glass, and glowered down at the street.
“I think we got here just in time,” my grandmother brought a hand up and clutched at her pearls, and to my dismay, she was shaking.
I looked from her to Tessa to the contract.
I may not have liked the fact I had just been muscled into a job I didn't want, but maybe it really had been just in the nick of time.
There was a howling gust of wind along the street, and a trashcan blew over, rolled off the curb, and right into the path of a car. The poor driver barely missed it, there was a screech of tires, and everyone turned to look.
Just then there was boom of thunder far off towards the mountains at the back of the city.
“I can give her some work immediately,” Tessa finally turned back to my grandmother, and her words were quick and sharp. She was clearly worried.
“I think that would be for the best,” Granny stood up, angling her head out the window, but for some reason it seemed as if she was unwilling to get too close to the glass.
“I heard about your oak tree,” Tessa sat down, though she was still clearly uneasy, and her previously stiff back had led way to crumpled, bowed shoulders. “You should replace it.”
My grandmother nodded her head. “I'll have to find something suitable.”
“Hurry,” Tessa noted simply.
Jesus. With the amount of tension in this room, added to the sheer doom of the weather outside, it felt like someone was about to die.
Me. That was the point, right? This situation was getting more serious by the second.
Oh, and I had just been granted a new lease on life, a new job, and a new car.
“Here's a bunch of paperwork,” Tessa opened one of her drawers, plucked out two neat bundles of documents, and handed them to me. “Run through them, they will give you the general gist of my business, show you what we usually deal with. Be sure to try to read them by the end of the day,” she noted as she glanced back to the window.
“I will make her. The only way to reap the magic of a new job is by working it,” my grandmother dropped her hands from her pearls and clutched them in her lap instead.
“What are you going to do now?” Tessa grabbed the contract my grandmother had signed and ferreted it away in one of her drawers.
“Fix the house, find a new guard to replace the broken oak tree, and, of course, find my granddaughter a man.”
Tessa nodded sternly, as if nothing my grandmother had said was out of place. “Good luck.”
“I imagine we will need it,” Granny stood up, patted down her skirt, and nodded towards her daughter.
“I warn you, this job won't be easy,” Tessa finally turned her attention to me. “But if you really want it, I have no problem in giving it to you.”
If I really wanted it? What about my appearance or behavior had suggested to anyone that I wanted to be a private detective?
I didn't bother saying anything. There was no point. I just had to let my whirlwind of a grandmother get through this day, and drag me with her. Then, hopefully by the end of it, I would still be alive, but very, very different.
With the contract signed, and me now an employee of my Aunt Tessa, we waved goodbye and headed back to our monster truck.
I had the oddest sensation as I looked at it just before my grandmother jumped in and gunned the engine. Though it was horrendously large... at least it looked solid. Vinnie was probably right; you could take on a train with it. It might be a little worse for wear, but unlike my previous hatchback, it wouldn’t be a pancake on the tracks.
It looked like it could withstand a frightful bashing.
In other words, it could protect its driver.
I hated the fact I was warming to it, however slowly, but as I clambered up, showing the world my knickers as I did, I felt all the safer once I was inside. With that incredible bull bar and the huge engine roaring beneath us, it seemed we could take on anything.
We would, however, need a lot more than a truck.
As the heavens were opening up, that sensation that something was after me grew.
At first it was an itch along my back, then a cold feeling in my chest, and by the time we had driven back home, it was a full-blown panic attack.