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‘Margie’s still using Mr Sheen then?’ she murmured under Abel’s chin.

‘Yes.’ He half-cleared his throat. ‘But she rations me to three sprays a day, now. Seeing as I’ve got form.’ A smile drew in just the corner of his mouth, giving him a dimple.

Abel released a slow breath – not a sigh, not a huff, which is what she mostly seemed to hear from him these days. But a slow, shallow exhale, almost too quiet to hear. The sound you might unconsciously make when you get into a hot bath or sink into the sofa after a long, busy day.

Temperance realised she was still there, in his space. The perfect distance to let her hands skim down his chest or up over his broad shoulders. His smile was still there too, and the dimple.

So many of last night’s dreams came her way all at once, at just the hint of his lips curling in such a knowing way.

Abel’s voice just a growl in her ear, his mouth against her neck, going down, and down . . .

But then came the twist of guilt in her stomach again – she was painting him into fantasies he wanted no part of. It wasn’t right. And besides, it was pointless. He lived in Bath now, where he had a girlfriend. A whole other life. Where moments before she had felt the warmth of nostalgia and safety, a chill now ran over her skin.

Temperance stepped away and forced herself to lace her fingers tightly behind her back. ‘See what you think.’ She gestured to the floor-length mirror.

‘Ah. Oh.’ Abel licked his lips, then craned his head back as if seeing a stranger from a distance and trying to work out if it could be his identical twin. ‘Right. I see what you mean. Not sure I’ve ever looked so . . . stylish. Thanks. This will do perfectly.’

‘I think your Gran will be impressed.’

He nodded and rubbed his hands together. ‘I should send a picture to Cass. She’d hardly recognise me.’

‘Right. Of course!’ Temperance fidgeted with her bracelets, her eyes darting around the shop – looking at anything but Abel. ‘I’ll leave you to get changed then, and I’ll ring those things up.’

‘Cool. Thanks again, Temperance.’ He pulled the curtain back around, hiding himself away behind a wall of moss-green velvet.

It was exactly the boundary Temperance needed – Abel was off the market and she needed to remember that.

Chapter 20

The sun laid the most gentle kisses of warmth on Temperance’s cheeks as she stretched out on the green, her toes pushing down into the worn-soft beach towel underneath her.

It was the same beach towel she’d used her whole life: Mickey Mouse on a surfboard, grinning madly, his primary colours now faded from a thousand hours of bright sunshine. It had been the towel she and Lee had taken down with them to the sea when she was a pudgy toddler, and the same towel she’d shoved into a record bag when she was let loose on her own to wander down there with mates. It had been so embedded with happy memories of Abel – sharing a single Calippo as the sun set, playing beach cricket with Clara, Helen, Tim and the others, sketching out plans that the whole gang would apply to Exeter Uni so they could stay together. Forever. It was so tightly packed with these glowing memories that Temperance had used it in her first ever solo magic washing, a few months after Abel left. To try to pretend to herself that they never had been so close, so content.

‘You know we have a beach for sunbathing, like, just down there?’ Susie’s shadow suddenly turned the heating off.

‘I know. But Abel doesn’t surf on the green, so I’m safest here.’

‘Aha. Still awks between you?’

‘Like you wouldn’t believe. Got the skinny on his girlfriend, though.’

‘Ohh,’ Susie breathed. ‘That must suck.’

Temperance rolled her shoulders. ‘You can’t really expect someone who wants to puke after kissing you to stay celibate all their lives. Apparently, he “doesn’t do” relationships, so nice to know he’s grown up into a proper male stereotype, eh? I bet he has a string of girls all over Bath, pining for a grumpy, near-silent date with him. Maybe I should move to a big city permanently to find love. Maybe that’s what the doom is trying to show me – Abel got out and finds women, maybe that’s how I need to do it?’

Susie turned out her bottom lip and Temperance squeezed her little sister’s leg briefly.

‘Only kidding. Besides, that’s not the kind of love I’m after. Something beyond two weeks. A forever kind of situation.’

‘Eurgh. No thanks. I’m glad I’m not old yet.’

Temperance moved to a swift pinch instead.

‘Ouch!’

‘Any word from Mark? Another fifteen texts per hour and invites to The Crab Shack?’

Susie smiled smugly. ‘Not so much as a DM. And he’s not been back to the pub. We sent him deep inside his shell, Temperance Molland. We are a right pair of crafty witches.’ She put her hand out, down by her knees, for a congratulatory high five.