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Susie threw her arms wide. ‘There you go then! Extraordinary times, extraordinary measures, right? We need some new tricks, babe. And fast. I’ll email tonight if you give me the address.’

Temperance took a moment to consider her sister. Twitching with nerves and worry, dull peachy shadows under her eyes from broken nights. She was hoping a trip down here might change the subject on loop in Susie’s mind, but clearly not.

‘No worries, I can do it. I need to ask about that sexy robe, anyway. And . . .’

‘And?’

Temperance uncrossed her legs and hugged her knees under her chin, looking out at the waves crashing into rolling lines of foam. ‘And I wanted to ask about the dreams too. I think . . . I think maybe I caused them, that night on the beach with you and Stevie. It’s a pretty big coincidence, don’t you think, that I chanted under a full moon and suddenly I’m haunted by a nightmare that won’t shift? Plus, I’ve dragged my ex into exactly the same vision. It can’t be a hangover anymore. It can’t be weird timing. Maybe, what we did around the fire was . . . casting. Mum always said it wasn’t something to muck about with. I think I brought Abel here, Suse, and I brought this doom hanging over us. Shit!’ she gasped. ‘Maybe the doom brought Mark here too!’

Susie’s eyes went wide. ‘Have you talked to Mum about it?’

‘How can I? How can I admit to her that the second she leaves me in charge, I go on some insane Single White Female rampage and meddle with magic I don’t understand? Not exactly confidence-boosting. She always made us promise, remember, that we’d never try and cast. I’m not sure I can handle her knowing I’ve messed up like this. So maybe I’ll ask ‘F’ instead.’

‘Mum didn’t give you their name?’

‘Nope, just the email: FEverything.’

‘Off topic but I wish that was my email address.’

‘Off topic but me too. So, I’m just going to casually drop them a line and ask about sexy satin robes, whether we can change someone’s current emotions, and whether I cursed my own village by wishing for a Goblin King boyfriend,’ she counted off on her fingers. ‘Super chill.’

‘Well, that’s definitely not a WhatsApp kind of convo. And in the meantime, what do we do?’

Temperance picked up the gilet again. ‘We keep going. Keep the shop open, keep avoiding Mark but watch him from a distance. Keep Abel safe and sound in the village. And try not to accidentally trigger any other waves of doom.’

She rustled around in the backpack for her lavender and basil. ‘For now I’ll do something positive with my Molland genes and take the frustrated male rage out of this thing.’

Chapter 14

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Re: Help us please?!

Hello Temperance,

I have to say, you could have bowled me over with a duck’s fart when I saw your name pop up in my inbox. You say that your mum left you my address as a sort of magic emergency contact?! Well, I’m going to choose to take that as a compliment, under the circumstances. You had a lot of questions so I won’t beat around the whatsit but I hope when this is all sorted we might have more time to talk. Maybe.

Thank you for itemising your questions. I can tell you are a can-do sort of girl.

1) As disappointed as I am to hear that you don’t want to keep this saucy red gown just as it is . . . if lavender isn’t having an impact, you’ll need to layer up the calming herbs on that horny beast. You’ll need lemon balm, dill and sage. Toast the sage leaves in a dry pan first, until they start to smoulder. The lemon balm and dill are calming; the sage is there to purify all those leftover naughty thoughts. If that all sounds like too much work, just pop it in the post to me! I’m joking. Kind of.

2) Can you use your magic to influence what is still unfolding? Dear Mighty Goddess of the Heavens, what has Lee been teaching you girls?! YES YES OF COURSE YES. It’s like she made sure you could read, but then locked up the library!!! You and your sister share a heritage that so few people are lucky enough to inherit. You are attuned to forces others can’t feel, this much you know. The spiritual energies of the universe. But you can also listen so closely to those forces that you can learn to guide them, to direct them. Think of it like a river: we can’t create the water but we can move rocks and dig rivulets to subtly change its course. You say powerful ambition is the problem here: then you need to drive it the other way. You need to dam that ambition and invert it. Luckily, the plant world gives us lots of lovely sedatives to do this. The most useful to us witches is Atropa belladonna. So you’re going to go on a little scavenger hunt. You’ll need about five bunches of the leaves (wear GLOVES, my girls) and then you’ll need to boil it into a tea (in a WELL VENTILATED ROOM) and then you need to have an item of clothing that will be worn often by the person you’re looking to influence. Seep it in the tea while you meditate on the quality you’re trying to quieten in them, or divert them away from. Keep that thought always in your mind. When you feel like you’ve nothing left to give, you’re done. (Rinse and REPEAT as necessary. Maybe that didn’t need to be in caps but I’m in the zone now.) Then return the item as swiftly as you can. The effect will wear off in time.

3) Now onto your midnight adventures, Temperance. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I see. I’ve no doubt the premonition you’ve been seeing came as a result of what you cast that night on the beach. Midnight, moonshine and the power of women united – you really didn’t think that would pack a punch? You opened yourself up to nature’s powers and you asked for true love to be brought to you. And so the magic saw what your mind’s eye fixed on as true love and delivered it – but against the young man’s will. And so: boom, you got doom. You used strong magic to go against free will and the cosmic powers that be DO NOT like that (there I go again – but deserved caps this time), so it’s all gone weird and wonky and decidedly dark. I can’t tell you what the burning wildflowers and the purple storm and the cracked glass mean. The premonition is speaking to you and you alone. But I do know that if you want to reverse it, you’re going to have to reverse it. Literally. Wear everything you were wearing that night but inside out. Say the same incantation but reverse it. You’ll need to be there at daybreak, not full moon. And mean it. You got greedy, Temperance, and now your hand has been slapped for reaching into love’s cookie jar. I don’t know if that analogy has turned filthy or not. But I didn’t mean it like *that*. What I’m saying is, yes, you did do this. But you didn’t mean it. And we’ve all had magic go horribly wrong on us. Just ask your mum.

Go carefully, girls, but go with power.

Yours, truly, always,

F x

F’s instructions were repeating in Temperance’s head later that day as she walked along the single-track lane to Praveen’s Pick Your Own field. Belladonna sounded like serious stuff, not to be treated lightly, and Temperance didn’t want to risk any lingering magical poison transferring onto their inventory or – God forbid – their customers, so she’d thrown on her roughest denim shorts and trainers to go and track down some disposable equipment for the witchy gathering mission.

She could have taken the car, but the sun was lighting up the sky a glorious buttercup yellow and Temperance figured an uphill walk in the blistering heat was a sure-fire way to clear her head of doom and destruction. And old flames. It was so bright that, at times, she almost walked with her eyes closed behind her sunglasses, one hand trailing in the hedgerow, her ears listening for cars but only hearing crickets. By the time she reached the rusty farm gates, she could feel the sweat gathering under her baseball cap and between her cleavage, but she couldn’t have cared less. The endorphins were helping pick up her feet, and knowing she was on the right track to be able to fix some of the mess she’d unwittingly made cleared some of the fog in her head.

Seeing Praveen in the little tin hut by the strawberry field, Temperance went over and knocked gently on the corrugated metal.