Page 59 of Rewitched

“Of course, it requires consent.” Bonnie laughed. “Like getting a collect call from someone at the other end and accepting the charges. Otherwise, you’d have wicchefolk zipping and zapping unexpectedly all over the shop. Obviously, I wanted to find out what you needed from me; it’s no trouble, love.”

As Belle opened her mouth to encourage her mum to stay for tea, the attic lights overhead flickered. A moment later, they cut out entirely, plunging the loft into cloudy, violet darkness.

“I’ll be darned. That blasted electricity board,” Artorius muttered.

Bonnie flickered in front of her daughter’s eyes, which were still adjusting to the darkness. Belle shook her head, assuming her contact lenses had slipped.

But it happened again, just then. Like watching a bad television signal fall over her own mother. Bonnie dipped in and out of sight like a camera flash.

“Mum, are you all right?”

But Bonnie was gone.

Silence fell abruptly across the attic, so sudden and blanketing that even the ambient sounds, the whirring and buzzing of the attic, paused in surprise.

“Did…did my spell unravel?” she asked Artorius, clueless as to what had happened.

Just like that, Bonnie reappeared. She was back as though nothing had happened at all.

But something was wrong. As soon as her feet landed back on the floorboards, Bonnie stumbled. She was gasping for breath, ghostly pale in the pitch-black attic.

“Mum. Mum? What’s happening?” Belle cried, her voice snapping. She reached out to hold her mother, to keep her close.

Before she could take hold of the sleeve of Bonnie’s dress, her mother vanished again. Belle’s hand closed around darkness.

Belle’s heart sped up, thumping against her ribs. She lunged forward over and over, grabbed out to try and hold on to her mother. But Bonnie continued to vanish into the black, then materialise again for one desperate, helpless moment.

“Belle.” Bonnie choked out the word each time.

“What’s happening? Arty? What’s happening?” Belle’s voice grew louder, more frantic. Wolfie barked, bewildered.

“I don’t know! I don’t know, Belle!” The old man, like Belle, lurched towards Bonnie in the fraction of a second she showed herself.

Bonnie reached out with a desperate, terror-stricken expression, grasping onto her daughter’s wrist for only an instant each time. She pulled with so much force that it was as though she was being tugged away, something snatching her backwards, relentless. Belle fought to hold on to her mother’s arm, wincing as the pull of skin on skin burnt all the way down her forearm.

“Please, Mum. Hold on.”

Belle was crying now. Hot tears soaked her face, blurring her vision. The old man strained as he fired up his limited strength to support Belle’s attempts, the pair yelling in frustration, fuelled by adrenaline as they tried to seize Bonnie firmly back to them.

For a moment, it felt as though they had her. But losing the strength of the opposite pulling force, Belle was sent flying backwards, stumbling over her own feet and crashing into one of the overloaded shelves. Heavy books thudded downwards all around her. An iron cauldron fell with force onto her shoulder. Her whole body thumped against the wooden eaves. But it didn’t matter.

Ignoring the pain, Belle hurried to her feet and hurtled back towards where her mother had been. She fiercely cleared her wet eyes with the back of her hand, steeling herself to continue the fight.

But now there was nothing. No more flickers came. Bonnie had gone.

20

Entangled

BELLE SPENT A lot of her time afraid, but she had never known true fear before. Not really. Not like this.

“Where is she?” Her voice, startlingly loud in the sudden quiet.

There was no reply. Only Wolfie, giving a low whimper as she looked back and forth between Belle and the empty spot that had previously been Bonnie. Belle realised the moment of release that sent her flying backwards had taken Artorius with it, too.

The old man lay surrounded by broken bottles, emptied jars and fallen books, his wire glasses at an unnatural angle across his baffled face. He winced as he adjusted his brittle body, trying to right himself. Belle rushed to his side, throwing aside a lampshade, a rolled-up moth-eaten rug and an empty hamster cage which had toppled in the chaos.

“Artorius, are you all right? Where’s my mum? I’ve got to help her.” He coughed deeply from his chest, recoiling at the effort on his old bones.