Page 57 of Uncharmed

Arden Place seemed to give a curious, disappointed sigh, left truly alone for the first time in weeks, as though the wooden walls were wondering where the newly blossomed love that had filled it to the rafters had suddenly been snatched to.

Hooves galloped by, thudding at speed into the soft meadow before pulling up at the porch. The horse rallied onto his hind legs as two boots landed on the ground in a desperate hurry. The front door swung open, honest words ready to be spilled and insisted, but they tumbled out into an empty home. There was nobody to hear them, only the lingering scent of vanilla sugar that settled to the floor in a scattering of rosy-pink snow-like sparks.

Chapter Twenty-Two

SWEET HOME

Celeste was just as she left it, which brought equal parts comfort and dread to Annie’s heart in the morning. A peachy flush spilled across the bakehouse floor as the dawn broke like a runny yolk. She was grateful to at least have a familiar routine to throw herself straight into. Nothing would help her come to terms with returning, other than just beginning again, not leaving room to think about all that she had left behind.

Everywhere looked pristine and beautiful, as it always did. The tables and counters were immaculate, the sconces and the coffee machine polished, the windows and chalkboards covered with Pari’s illustrations. The Halloween décor was in full swing, too, feeling cosy and nostalgic. Annie wrapped her arms around herself, as though her body needed to feel something still and steady, to grip onto something solid before she completely disappeared. Celeste was inextricably linked with heart-quickening, spiked emotions now. It meant pressure that she hadn’t intended to invite along, more deadlines than anyone should possibly have to match, expectations so enormous that only her magic could meet them.

Worst of all, Annie knew in her heart she would soon have to admit defeat and bring Splendidus Infernum back, to save her from herself and the impossible standards she had set.

Annie swallowed against the tightness in her throat and began to fire bursts of magic towards her tasks – turning on the ovens, reviving the wilting pink roses on the tabletops, levitating the sieve for the morning’s flour sifting. She reminded herself that the golden cage was still golden.

Soon, the tinkle of the doorbell sprinkled through the bakery like hundreds and thousands. Annie leaned backwards from her work at the kitchen counter. Pari squealed and sprinted directly towards her, practically skidding across the tiles.

‘You’re here! We missed you!’ Pari said, throwing her arms around Annie and squeezing her so tightly that it made Annie gasp. It felt as though the second Pari let go, she might unravel like a spool of thread. Faye soon followed behind, dumping her many bags on the floor.

‘Glad to have you back,’ Faye said, although Annie could already tell that there was concern in her gaze. It made her bristle, knowing that someone was looking too closely at her.

‘You seem different,’ Pari said, twirling Annie’s lazy ponytail around her fingers affectionately.

‘Oh, I know,’ Annie said self-consciously. ‘A bit of a shambles, really.’

‘Not at all, you look so pretty!’ Pari said brightly. ‘You always look pretty. Like our own little macaroon kiss.’

Annie laughed, the brightness that perpetually radiated from Pari feeling like much-needed sunlight on her skin.

‘Thanks, sweetheart. I really did miss you both. Can you believe how long I was away?’

‘No time for pleasantries, I’m afraid. Time waits for no man and cake waits for no woman, so we’d better get cracking. I mean that both literally and as an egg-related baking pun,’ Faye called as she threw an apron across the shop floor towards each of them. ‘Annie, you will not believe the order sheet that we need to get through this week. I can practically feel the nervous breakdown radiating from you already. This should be fun!’

It only took those few moments for Annie to feel the temporary spark of joy from her co-workers drain away again. There was no Splendidus Infernum hanging around in the pit of her stomach, ready to buoy it back up artificially.

‘No need to look so chuffed about it,’ Faye said, rolling her eyes. ‘It’s a good thing. It’s unbelievable. Celeste is taking over the world, Annie, one choux bun at a time. We’ve got this, don’t worry.’

‘I know,’ Annie said with a quiet smile. Of course they did. She just wasn’t sure whether she could say the same for herself.

‘So how was it?’ Faye said, simultaneously firing up the coffee machine, tying up her apron and chucking a rag over her shoulder. ‘Did you get beaten up by a teenager?’

‘Only emotionally,’ Annie said with a fond smile. ‘She was a superstar. I loved it.’

‘Well, that’s great,’ Pari nodded, although she looked unconvinced. ‘And how does it feel now that it’s over?’

Annie bit down on her bottom lip and debated how honest to be. ‘That’s the part I’m struggling to work out.’

Her first days back passed in a blur of trying. Trying to settle back in, trying to be present in the here and now, trying to remind herself that this was where she was supposed to be and trying to be her very best self, even though she’d never felt worse.

Annie enjoyed being around Faye and Pari of course, but dragging her mood up to meet theirs took more energy than she could muster. She felt a tweak of appreciation in her chest, too, when regulars like Joe and Olive spotted her behind the counter for the first time in weeks. She made sure to take time to make each of them feel special, as she always would. Armed with personalized pastries and treats for each and every customer, she listened to their stories and asked the questions that she knew would make them feel lighter, opening a door for each of them to step through and slip off their shoes. But without the spell, Annie found that she needed reminding of things that she once knew off by heart. The jokes she tried didn’t always quite land and awkward pauses of silence seemed to stretch for longer than could possibly be normal. Social awkwardness, as it transpired, was a terrible feeling.

It wasn’t that she cared any less for those familiar faces. Of course not; Annie would always care deeply. It was simply as if she had less of herself to give in return. As though her heart had been left behind. She could no longer exist as an infinite well.

‘If you’d told us it was this adorable, we might have come to visit sooner.’

Annie’s eyes widened. She spun around on the spot so quickly that a spray of icing erupted from the piping bag that she was using to ink faces onto the pumpkin-shaped, chocolate-orange optimism macarons. Hal and Maeve would have liked them. She pushed them out of her mind.

Because here were Romily and Vivienne, side by side, with arms interlaced.