His forehead touches mine, his hair drips between our faces with the rainwater which is now warm from the heat of the cottage. Every urge within me wants to kiss.
“Tea, dears.” Granny knocks on the front room door before entering with a tray of tea and biscuits. We sit up straight like two teenagers caught short.
She places the tray down on the coffee table and takes a seat on the other sofa. Aradia follows and plonks herself on the floor on her knees and stretches.
“Well,” she says, “that wasn’t on my cards for tonight. Did you see it happening, Harri?” She realises Sam is in the room and retracts. “Was it in his nature to just turn up drunk?”
“He has a lot of influence from his parents,” I reply.
Awkward silence fills the room.
“I really appreciate the tea, Cerci. I think I best let you ladies chat. I’ve gotta get back to Nana.” Sam stands up and stretches his arms showing just how strong he is. He would have punched Greg all the way into the next village.
“You don’t have to go,” I object in a panic. If Sam is here, I don’t have to talk about what Greg knows.
“I’ll come by in the morning on the way to work?”
“OK, thank you, Sam.”
He squeezes my shoulder and spends a second too long looking into my eyes.
“I’ll let myself out. You guys stay in the warm.”
“Always a gentleman, Sam. Thank you for being there for our darling Harri,” Granny chimes with her happy go lucky smile and calm exterior.
He leaves the cottage, and we hear the noise of his van starting and driving away into the night.
“Now, my darling, I think it’s time we start to be honest about your ex-fiancé.”
My head drops again. Tears fill my eyes, and my throat begins to choke up. “I’m so sorry, Granny, Aradia. He knows.”
“Knows?” Aradia crawls over and places her hands onto mine. “Knows what?”
“About us. About what we are.”
Granny sips her tea. “I thought that is what he meant. And how does he know what we are?”
“His mother told him.” My lip wobbles with every word that exits my mouth.
Aradia looks at Granny who is sitting in silence, deep in thought.
“You should have told us,” she says gently and quietly.
“I didn’t want to drag you in with it all. His mother called andsaid if I don’t marry Greg then she will expose us for what we are. I couldn’t do that to you.”
“So, you’re just going to marry him?” Aradia exclaims in shock. “You can’t. He’s a total spoilt dick!”
“Calm, Aradia, calm,” Granny says soothingly, raising her hand to a flustered Aradia.
“Why would his mother know about us? Something does not sit right here. Did you see this happening, Harri?”
“I saw Greg here last night in my dreams, yes. Well, in blackness, but even if I saw it, Greg has never been horrible to me. He is a dick, yes, but tonight he was different now I think about it. Drunk or not, he was not the Greg I know.”
“Mmmm, there is something deeper here, isn’t there?” Granny sips her tea again. “Aradia, I need you to look at any known witch hunters in London. Ask around if needed.”
“Do you think Greg is a witch hunter?”
“Not at all, but something in this story is telling me they are linked. It will take some digging, but we will piece this together. But please promise me you will tell us about anything like this in the future.” Her eyes narrow at mine.
