Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

‘You really have to be home so soon?'

Wyn pulled over into an empty space on Macon Street, put his truck in park then turned off the rumbling antique engine. ‘They're showing Jaws at the theatre down on Reynolds Square. Did you ever see it? Could be fun.'

‘I would love that but I can't,' I said with genuine regret. Old movies were my kryptonite. ‘My grandmother is expecting me home and—'

‘No need to explain. Protective grandparent, I get it,' he said. ‘What if I come by and introduce myself? Last summer, I worked at the restaurant in this fancy hotel and I did real well with the afternoon tea crowd. Grandmother charming was my specialty, I swear.'

I didn't doubt him for a second.

‘It's not you,' I replied.

‘The thing is, Catherine doesn't want me to date anyone. At all. At least not until after my birthday.'

There it was again, the brilliant grin.

‘On June twenty-first,' he said.

‘That's right,' I smiled. Another thing he remembered.

‘Then there's no problem because we're not dating,' he declared, stopping my heart with three words. ‘We're just two people who like hanging out and eating ice cream and occasionally holding hands and maybe don't hold hands with other people.'

My heart resumed business as usual.

‘Can they eat ice cream with other people?' I enquired with forced earnestness.

He wrinkled up his nose as he considered the question.

‘Can't say I'm crazy about the idea but sure.'

‘OK then,' I agreed, laughing. ‘She might fall for that. But I still think we should hold off on the introductions for now.'

‘Whatever you say,' Wyn replied. ‘Would you maybe want to date me again? Like, tomorrow?'

I had no plans but even if I did, they would have been instantly cancelled.

‘I'll text you,' I promised, thrilled by the fact I actually could. ‘But I think that'll work.'

He looked over at Bell House and shook his head. From here, it looked more imposing than elegant, a solid grey block designed to keep people out rather than invite them in. Even the decorative finials on the roof glinted sharp in the sun. Unwelcoming and uncompromising.

‘Still can't believe you live in a mansion like that,' he said. ‘I would get lost looking for the bathroom.'

‘Thankfully I have my own or I'd be in trouble too,' I replied, steering his gaze with my finger. ‘That's my room. Second floor, far left. Three big windows with the balcony.'

‘That's where to imagine you later.' His words became a promise I hoped he would keep. ‘Out on your balcony, staring at the sunset.'

‘And where should I imagine you?' I asked, combing out my snarled up braid and hoping he would picture me with less seaweed in my hair.

‘In my apartment. In bed.'

Neither of us said another word. There were too many swirling around in my head to choose just one and I didn't trust any of them.

‘Guess you'd better get going,' Wyn said as I pushed the image of him tangled up in bedsheets out of my mind. ‘I really don't want to get you in trouble with your grandmother.'

‘Thank you for this.' I waved my new icy blue phone in the air. ‘And for the sunscreen, because I would definitely have burned without it. And the sodas and the sunglasses. And for pulling me out the ocean.'

He reached for the sunglasses that were perched on top of my head and flipped them down over my eyes.

‘It's all part of the service. Any time you need me to save your life, just let me know.'

‘Same,' I replied. ‘Any time.'

Hopefully neither of us would need saving again for a while.

There was no AC without the engine running and the inside of the truck was suffocating. A bead of sweat ran down the side of Wyn's face, gliding over his jaw, down his neck and disappearing under the collar of his T-shirt. I squirmed against my seatbelt as I turned molten and when he reached across me to unclip it, the belt snapped back but his hand stayed where it was, right beside my sun-warmed thigh. Across the square, the cathedral bells chimed the hour, an unwelcome reminder of where I was supposed to be.

‘I'd better head in,' I said, flipping the handle on the truck and all but falling out onto the street. ‘I'll text you later.'

‘I'll be waiting.'

Wyn raised a hand in a goodbye and as I stumbled away, I could feel his eyes burning into my back, the connection between us stronger than ever.

The front door of Bell House swung silently on its hinges as I slipped inside. Easing off my shoes, I tiptoed up the wooden staircase, somehow managing to avoid every creaking floorboard. It almost felt as though Bell House was complicit in my sneaking around. Not only that, it approved.

Gritty with sand and smelling of sunscreen, I floated across my room to hide my new phone and the charging cable that came with it in my nightstand, alongside Catherine's silver pin. Keeping secrets wasn't something that came naturally to me but neither was having an aunt or a grandmother or finding out I was a witch. All I wanted was one thing that was just mine. That thing was Wyn. I wasn't ready to share him just yet.

On my desk, my parents smiled at me from the folding silver picture frame but I could only find a frown to return. So many things might have been easier if my dad had told the truth. His version of our world was the only one I'd ever known and I'd trusted him completely. But now here I was in his old bedroom, asking myself if I'd ever truly known him at all.

‘I wish you were here,' I told the smiling photograph. ‘I wish you could make this stuff make sense.'

My whole life, I'd studied the pictures of my mother so closely they felt more like memories than photographs, as though I'd somehow gone back in time and taken them myself. But today, for the first time, I noticed something new. My parents were posing under a tree, Dad facing the camera, Mom resting her head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his waist and both of them wearing their matching black and gold sweatshirts. But there was something else. Above my mom's tilted head, an arrow shot through a freshly carved heart, containing the letters P + A.

Just like the heart I'd seen on the tree in Forsyth Park.

‘Aren't you just precious.'

I turned quickly to see Ashley standing beside my bed.

‘I didn't hear you come in,' I said as I folded up the silver frame, laying it face down. She didn't get to look at it.

‘Jinx,' she replied. ‘You said you wouldn't be gone long. Catherine is going to flip when she finds out you disappeared all day.'

‘I told you, I was with Lydia,' I lied. The muscles in my legs twitched, ready to run. ‘We lost track of time.'

The door closed slowly behind her, protesting all the way with a long, complaining creak as she hopped up onto my bed and lay back against the legion of pillows I removed every night and replaced every morning.

‘So,' Ashley said, staring through me like an X-ray machine. ‘How's it feel to be a witch?'

‘OK,' I answered. ‘How does it feel not being a witch?'

Even though it wasn't my intention, that made her laugh.

‘Well, I'll be. Do you know, you're the first person ever to ask me that?' She crossed her legs at the ankles and I noticed her muddy shoes shedding a trail of dirt across my comforter. ‘For a long time, I was real mad about it. Can you imagine growing up around women capable of incredible things and knowing your only destiny is to be a glorified babysitter?'

She picked out a soft round cushion from my pile and held it to her chest, cuddling it like a stuffed animal. ‘The generations before me, they were honoured. Even when I was too young to understand, my grandmother would try to convince me this was another kind of sacred gift, a blessing of our very own.'

‘But you don't see it like that,' I guessed.

‘All I saw was a blank space where my life should have been.'

I kept one eye on the door, sympathetic but still on edge.

‘Things got worse after Paul left,' she said, picking at a feather that poked out of the cushion. ‘Catherine was terrified I might try to run away so she kept me on a short leash. No dating, no college, no parties, no friends.'

‘No friends?' I repeated. ‘How could she stop you having friends?'

‘It's pretty difficult to make friends if you never leave the house.' Her eyes flickered towards the closed door. ‘No one ever cared about me. Except for Ellie. But that didn't last long.'

‘She must've been a special friend if you still think about her,' I remarked and from the look on her face, I was fairly sure Ellie was more than just a friend.

‘I saw her on the street,' Ashley said, an almost smile warming up her features. ‘She was painting Bell House, painting a picture of it, I mean. She was such a talented artist. After that, she came by every day for a week and we just sat on the porch talking each other's ears off. I could talk to her for hours and never run out of things to say.'

‘Why aren't you friends with her now?'

She looked up and met my genuine curiosity with fiery resentment.

‘Because she had a whole life to live and I have to waste mine here, taking care of the extraordinary Bell witches.'

The weight of her resentment pinned me to my chair. I'd never felt so guilty about something I had no control over. Even though I couldn't possibly have done anything to change things, her unhappiness was due to me.

‘I'm so sorry,' I offered, but my contrition wasn't nearly enough for my aunt. ‘You know I didn't choose any of this. If we could swap, I'd hand it all over in a heartbeat.'

‘You really think I'd want it?' Ashley asked. Her furious expression turned into one of surprise and the corner of her mouth flickered bitterly. She looked away and shook her head. ‘I know it's not your fault. Hating you won't help me any, but if your dad hadn't run away, if he had stayed and I had left, things would have been very different for all of us.'

‘Catherine says he left because he wanted me to have an easier life,' I said cautiously, tiptoeing around our uneasy truce. ‘What do you think?'

She pulled at a loose thread on my comforter, pulling it taut and wrapping it around her finger.

‘Men don't do so well with the reality of our situation,' she replied. ‘Historically speaking, there haven't been many sons in the Bell line. But when Catherine fell pregnant with Paul, she failed to take the proper precautions to ensure the baby was a girl. She won't admit it but I reckon Daddy wanted a boy first, a good old-fashioned southern son and heir. As if that means anything in this family.'

‘Is that something we can do?' I asked, unable to hide my surprise. ‘Choose the sex of a baby, I mean?'

Ashley looked at me like I'd just asked if the sky was blue.

‘Sure. It's just a matter of giving nature a push in the desired direction.'

She twisted the thread tightly around her forefinger, the thin cotton digging sharply into her flesh. Then she flicked her wrist and snapped the thread in two.

‘Can't change the past,' she said as she tossed it away onto the floor. ‘Your magic is all that matters now. The blessing comes first, everything else is a liability.'

‘Things change,' I replied as she climbed down from the bed, tracking more dirt behind her on her way out. ‘You could still meet someone else.'

She stared at me from the doorway, head tilted to one side as though considering my suggestion and whether or not I might be right.

‘Not while there's a Bell witch living in this house,' she decided before slipping away into the darkness of the hallway. ‘There's nothing for me in this whole world while you and Catherine are alive.'