Page 46 of The Snow Witch

‘Great.’ Jake’s voice was strange – falsely bright, but wary and questioning at the same time. ‘I, umm, was just ringing to check on you. I tried before, but you didn’t take the call, so…’

‘Yeah. I was busy, so…’ She pulled a face. Lame! A lame excuse. How on earth could she be busy before 7 a.m.? ‘Anyway. That’s kind.’ Violet sat on the edge of the bed, even as she wondered why Jake sounded so – odd. ‘But why?’ She could have bitten her tongue off. Why did she have to throw it back in his face like that?

Jake seemed not to notice; he just barrelled on. ‘The weather was a bit weird here last night. Sort of like a thunderstorm, but with flashes of coloured light and snow. Bloody heavy snow. The site’s covered in it. A good few inches. I think I’ll be stuck here for a bit until they get it cleared. The main roads are okay apparently, but…’ His voice petered out. ‘God. I’m talking about the weather.’ He huffed a laugh. ‘Sorry. How dull.’

‘No. It’s actually good to hear your voice.’ Violet took a sip of tea. ‘The weather is pretty shit up here as well.’ She paused. ‘Or I might have suggested meeting up.’

‘Yeah. Maybe in time for brunch. If we’re lucky.’

‘Maybe.’

‘I really did want to check on you, though. Just to make sure you slept okay. And you didn’t go on a midnight stroll to that Well. I know what you’re like.’

‘If it was midsummer, I might have done. Not in the middle of February—’ Violet checked herself as Meg’s words came back to her. Mugwort, picked at the Summer Solstice.

No. The early walk she’d taken down there today had been more than enough. Imagine that place in the depths of the night! How creepy would that be?

A wave of nausea threatened to claim her as she remembered the words and the images she’d seen today. And the mugwort thing – she could imagine doing that, if she was honest. She was suddenly aware of herself bending over, picking the green, spiky-leaved plant and murmuring words over it as she placed it in a basket.

She wanted to wash her hands really badly, to take the taint of it away; she wanted nothing to do with that stuff, to be nowhere near it, not even in her mind.

Ugh.

‘So no,’ Violet added now, ‘no wintery wanderings to the Well.’

‘Ah, you can tell you’re a writer.’ Jake sounded amused. ‘All the alliteration. Have you done much? While you’ve been here, I mean. I haven’t really asked you.’

‘Still gathering evidence, writing notes – that sort of thing. The Gaol exhibition was helpful. Kind of.’ Yes, she had done some work, but felt she had largely spent the time here being haunted by thoughts of seventeenth-century witches. ‘You? I didn’t ask you properly. Did you enjoy seeing the Well and all the things that were thrown into it in that museum at Chesters?’

‘Yes. It was great.’

‘Did you get any odd vibes down at the Well?’ Violet was curious. ‘When you were there the other day?’ She had, Ollie had – was it more common than she thought or had she and Ollie just been unlucky?

‘I… I don’t think so.’ Jake sounded cagey and Violet sat up straighter, picking up on it.

‘You don’t think so,’ she repeated. ‘Ollie did.’

‘Ollie did. Fine. Bully for Ollie. But obviously, I found you down there. I mean that was pure chance.’

‘But what made you want to go past the temple? The Mithraic Temple was what you were interested in. Not a boggy puddle.’

‘To be honest, I don’t know. I didn’t like the stream, that felt weird, and even the temple was a bit creepy. But I didn’t want to turn back. I could have done, but I also knew I had to cross the stream and go over there. For some reason.’ He paused. ‘Maybe subconsciously, I had seen you, recognised you…’

‘Or someone got into your mind, and you had to come over there.’

‘Or someone got into my mind, and I had to come over there.’ Then Jake sighed. ‘I wasn’t going to tell you, but I had a dream about it last night. More specifically, you at the Well.’

Violet’s stomach turned over. ‘What was I doing?’ She was praying that he wouldn’t say she was gathering mugwort or directing a dagger to the heavens or being stabbed by a Witch Pricker…

‘You were sort of crouching there. In the snow. I think I dreamed it because of the fact we’d met there under those sorts of circumstances before.’ He laughed again, but Violet could tell it was kind of forced. ‘But it seemed too real and then I saw a woman in the snow on the campsite last night and⁠—’

‘A woman?’ Violet interrupted him. ‘What did she look like?’

‘Well a bit like you, I guess,’ said Jake, almost embarrassed to be admitting it. ‘She had really blonde hair. She was quite small. And when she moved and turned around – it seemed she bloody looked at me. Like, deliberately.’ Then: ‘Oh God! I’ve seen her before, Violet. The first night on the campsite. I dreamed about her then as well.’

Violet stared at the phone. ‘Meggie,’ she said. ‘I think you saw Meggie.’

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