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Weave Your Magic

Page 8

by Caroline Hogg

Her palm glowed like she was holding a hot water bottle. ‘I don’t want to take this off now. It’ll be eight hours until I can put it on again and . . . I’ll miss it. The feeling. Like, now I know what being in love must be like. And I don’t want it to end.’ Unconsciously, her bottom lip stuck out.

Susie’s eyes went wide as she looked from Temperance to Stevie, shocked that Temperance had said so much – too much – about their powers.

Stevie gasped. ‘You love the dress! Of course you do: it’s like it was made for you, babe. You shouldn’t take it off. Like, ever. Oh my god – let’s go and do the enchantment scene! When she finally tells the Goblin King that he has no power over her. It’ll be . . . like . . . you’re living the movie!’

Susie smiled slyly. ‘There’s bound to be someone on the beach having a cheeky bonfire that we could dance around.’

‘Yes!’

‘Yes.’ Temperance’s voice came out strong and assured before she really thought about what she was agreeing to. It was like the dress was speaking for her, as if it was longing to have one more dance, one more adventure. As if it was dying to twirl around in all its poofy glory with its true love again.

‘But it’s chilly, so bring something warm.’

She grabbed the purple emergency beanie that always lived on the shop’s hat stand – the one her mum had knitted her years ago – and pulled it down over fluffed-up curls.

The almost-midnight air was cold, sending their breath out before them like a huddle of squiffy dragons as Susie lit the way with the shop torch and Stevie brought up the rear behind Temperance, carrying the train of the dress in the dead of night like the most dutiful, deranged bridesmaid ever.

‘You’ll love the beach in the dark, Stevie. It knocks California into a cocked hat.’

‘Sure,’ she replied gently. ‘But . . . I don’t want to know how a hat gets cocked, OK? It’s been a long day.’

Soon the footpath was taking them down, on sandy, jagged stones clumped together with sea grass, towards the beach. A light drizzle started to fall.

Susie squeaked. ‘A fire just on its last embers! We can stoke it back up again.’

They dashed to the edges of the beach to grab some dry wood. Well, the others dashed. Temperance sort of ungainly slouched there as the heavy silk got stuck in the sand.

Frustrated, and buzzed by so much cheap rum and pure love that she mostly forgot herself, Temperance held out both her hands, palms down, at her waist. The top two layers of the skirt floated up to meet her touch and with some of the mighty weight lifted, Temperance managed to stagger another few metres forwards. She flopped down by the fire pit and watched the flames lick back to life as the others fed it.

The night air was sweet and crisp. Unadulterated. The waves washed themselves against the beach, soft and rhythmic and slow. Playing their music even if there was hardly anyone around to hear it.

Temperance shut her eyes. She loved being here with her sister and her very new friend, but a big part of heart was crying out that this was precisely the kind of moment you wanted the Love of Your Life for. The wool of her beanie itched at her head, and she pulled it down lower to keep her ears warm.

Temperance put her hands to her middle, pushing the fabric in where it gaped slightly, drinking in the warmth and the charge of a real love, even if it was borrowed and second-hand.

‘Hmm, just as I suspected.’ Stevie’s hands were behind her before she even realised what was happening, looping something under her arms and pulling it tight. ‘It will need a belt for the party. But this was all I could find at the store.’

Temperance saw a flash of red as she glanced down and then a feverish heat ran up the back of her neck and down her front, ending up between her legs. Her breath caught in her lungs. She was aware of every inch of her skin that was kissed by the cool night air.

Wrists clasped by a strong hand. The delicious building pressure. The anticipation as he . . .

‘Oh my god!’ Temperance lurched to one side.

It was the red dressing gown cord.

Susie clocked what was happening and fell into the sand, laughing her arse off.

‘What?’ Stevie asked, a little worried.

‘Um, nothing, don’t worry.’ Temperance fanned herself. ‘Chuck me more rum! Quick!’ Temperance swallowed three mouthfuls, closing a door in her mind to the R-rated scene still playing there. For now.

‘Let’s begin.’ Stevie’s eyes glittered.

Temperance struggled to stand, swamped as she was by tulle and silk. She drew a line in the air with one flick of her wrist and the bottom of the skirt shook itself free.

Stevie blinked. Then blinked again. ‘This English beer is strong stuff, right?’

Susie only giggled nervously and tried to eyeball Temperance across the campfire. ‘So, erm, how does it go, Stevie?’