To Faye Spring’s chagrin, the world was a different place to the one she’d grown up believing in. The elderly weren’t respected by the young, and a new breed of humans were taking over – accountants, computer geeks, and worst of all, social workers – those middle-class do-gooders with their floral frocks and bob haircuts. One of the most persistent of these annoying people was heading up her drive…again.

 

Faye had lived alone in her family’s ancestral home, Spring Manor, since her daughter, Esme, left under a cloud thirty years earlier. For the family wiccan sceptre not to be passed down to the next generation was unheard of. But what would a social worker like Ms Letitia Spoonbury know of such things?

 

She sighed and opened the door whilst affecting the most condescending stance her tired old bones could muster. “Are you here again?” she huffed.

 

“Afternoon Faye.

 

“What do you want this time? Come to see if I have my shoes on the right feet?”

 

Letitia smiled politely and ignored Faye’s sarcasm. “May I come in?”

 

Faye wrinkled her nose as if she’d smelled something bad, then stepped back from the door.

 

Letitia strode in, went straight to the kitchen and put the kettle on.

 

Faye hobbled in behind her, wincing with each painful step.

 

“I suppose you still haven’t called the doctor,” said Letitia.

 

“Huh! I don’t need any doctor. I have my own remedies.”

 

“They’re not working. Now sit down before you fall down. I’ll make some tea. What’s it to be today? Earl Grey? Darjeeling? Or one of your herbal concoctions?”

 

“Take your pick,” said Faye, waving her arm at the caddies on the sideboard.

 

Letitia didn’t stop talking while she went about the business of making tea. It was like the constant buzz of a bee, quite loud, but consistent enough that Faye stopped hearing it.  She just tuned her out. Right up until the social worker sat down opposite and was busy pouring two cups of raspberry-leaf tea.

 

“…so what with your constant falls, your unwillingness to seek any help and your unhealthy lack of hygiene, we’ll be moving you to Bollinger’s Care Home tomorrow. You’ll love it there. It has a big garden – I know how much you enjoy your plants, you’ll have your own room with en suite bathroom, all your meals will be prepared for you, and you’ll have lots of company.”

 

Faye stared at Letitia. For a moment she thought she must have heard incorrectly, then she chuckled, assuming this was some kind of joke, but finally the chuckle turned to hysterical laughter.

 

“Are you alright Faye?”

 

It had been years since Faye had cast a spell, and decades since she’d used one on another person, but now she felt the stirrings of power, and the magical words tripped fluently from her lips.

 

Letitia’s chair scraped rapidly back to the kitchen wall, and her head snapped backwards hitting the side of the door jamb with a dull thud, at which time she was jolted from the seat to the floor, still in a sitting position, and with her dress up around her bottom. Letitia’s watering eyes seemed like they might pop out of her head, and her grey-tinged mousy hair stood on end in unruly spikes.

 

It was all so instantaneous, just a reaction, not at all planned or intended, and now Faye thought perhaps she’d over-reacted. After all, these annoying people couldn’t force her out of her house. Maybe she shouldn’t have tipped her hand about being a witch. Oh well, no help for it now. She may as well finish the job and get rid of the silly woman.

 

There was no need to worry though, Letitia Spoonbury was so spooked, she scrambled to her feet and ran for the door.

 

Faye laughed her witchy cackle behind her as she went. To Faye it was the most fun thing she’d done in years.

 

Two police officers came with another social worker, one she’d never seen before, the next morning.

 

“What do you want?”

 

“Faye Spring, my name is Bob Graham, I have been ordered to remove you from here and take you to Bollinger’s Care Home,” said the social worker.

 

“No.” Faye moved to close the door.

 

Bob reached forward and held it open. “I’m sorry Faye, this isn’t optional. You can let us know what personal effects you want collected later.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere. Why are they here?” she indicted the police officers.

 

“I understand you attacked my colleague yesterday.” He scanned her up and down. “They’re here to ensure this goes as smoothly as possible.”

 

“Me? Attack? I can hardly walk.”

 

The two police officers glanced at each other.

 

Faye caught their doubtful expressions, and turned to the nearest, a policewoman. “I’m just an old lady. I couldn’t attack anyone if I tried.”

 

The policewoman shrugged. “It’s not my call Mrs Spring. I’m just here to do a job.”

 

“That’s just Faye.”

 

Bob had that ‘don’t waste any more of my time’ look on his face. “Let’s get this over with.”

 

Faye decided to put on a show, after all, once they leave her at the care home she’d just walk out and come home again, but there’s no reason she should make it easy for them. She employed her most pitiful voice as she pleaded. She screamed, she cried – she thought she’d better hold off on using her craft for now – but in the end she was manhandled into Bob’s car and driven to Bollinger’s.

 

~ * ~

 

By the time Faye arrived at the Bollinger’s Care Home, her defiant act had become real and was now righteous indignation.

 

The home manager introduced herself when Faye was taken into the front office. “My name is Jane Wass-Dixon. You are very welcome Mrs Spring.”

 

“Just Faye.”

 

“Faye. Okay,” she nodded. “You may call me Jane.” She narrowed her eyes. “I understand you attacked Letitia yesterday. I want to make it very clear from the outset, that we have a zero-tolerance policy for violence. Now, one of the nurses will be along in a moment to show you to your room and to explain the house rules. If there’s anything you need, talk to her about it.”

 

“I won’t be staying.”

 

“I’m sorry Mrs… Faye, but this is now your home.”

 

Faye’s eyes sparkled as she felt her power surge again, but she managed to supress it. “I won’t be staying. You can’t make me.”

  

Nurse Tayla Ogilvy was a cheery young thing, Faye thought. Perhaps, as this Jane woman didn’t seem ready to listen to her, the nurse would. When the girl had finished talking – Faye hadn’t been listening – she tried to explain. “I can’t stay here. I have a house. It’s been in the family for generations – I can’t live somewhere else. It’s unheard of. Oh, this is all Esme’s fault.”

 

“Who’s Esme?” asked Tayla.

 

“My daughter. It was her duty to take on the family…traditions.” Faye stopped herself just in time before mentioning the wiccan sceptre. “But she left.”

 

“Oh. I don’t think we have a record of you having a daughter. Do you have contact details for her?”

 

She did. It had taken a while, but she’d managed to track Esme and that husband of hers down. Faye bit her lip as her mind chuntered through a variety of possible scenarios. Perhaps if someone from here were to contact Esme, she might come. Perhaps then she’d have the chance to convince her daughter to stay in the family house. She did, after all, need to pass Spring Manor, and the sceptre on to her. But the thought of a man living in the ancestral home… she tutted.

 

“Faye, did you hear me? Do you know how we can contact your daughter?”

 

“It’s in my phone book.”

 

Tayla nodded, then, checked all around her to make sure no one was listening. “If you don’t mind my asking, what did you do to Letitia Spoonbury?”

 

Faye liked this girl – she had a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Could she take the truth? “I’m a witch. I cast a spell on her – spooked her good and proper I did!”

 

There was that witchy cackle again.

 

Tayla pursed her lips. “You’re teasing me.”

 

“No. It’s true.”

 

“There’s no such thing as witches. Now, what would you like us to get from your house besides your phone book?”

 

“No need to get anything. I won’t be staying. But I would like you to contact Esme for me. Meanwhile, please would you order me a taxi?”

 

Tayla’s tone changed, indicating the nurse was humouring her now.

 

It made Faye scowl.

  

“Of course. But while you’re waiting, come into the communal area and meet some of the other residents. The tea trolley will becoming round shortly.

 

~ * ~

 

“A witch? Oh well, we haven’t had one of those for a while,” said senior nurse Tim Booth.

 

A titter of amusement went round the staff room.

 

“I’ve managed to contact the daughter. It seems she and her mother have been estranged for about thirty odd years, but she said she’d come next week for a meeting,” said Jane.

 

“Did she say why they’re not talking?”

 

“Humph! It seems our ‘witch’ didn’t approve of her daughter’s marriage. Apparently witchery is a female only club.”

 

“Well, without putting too fine a point on it, there must have been man in Faye’s life at some time, or Esme wouldn’t have been born.”

 

“Humph! We’ll just have to see what she says next week. In the meantime, try not to agitate Faye. She may look frail, but I’ve seen the bump on Letitia’s head. It seems the old girl has a vicious streak.”

 

~ * ~

 

The communal area of Bollinger’s Care Home was a bright, airy orangery, dating the main house back to the seventeenth century. Faye’s attempt to get someone to call her a taxi had fallen on deaf ears, but she liked this room, and she was content to wait out her escape until after Esme had been. At least she’d get to talk to her daughter at long last. Esme may be cross with her still, but she’d understand she has to go back to Spring Manor. Maybe she’d even take her home and they can spend some time together – sort everything out.

           

Four of the residents approached Faye. She was moderately satisfied to see the trepidation in their faces and in their cautious demeanour.

 

“May we join you Mrs Spring?” asked one of the women.

 

“Just Faye,” she responded automatically. But she nodded at the two couches to either side of her high-backed chair.

 

“I’m Annie, this is Beth, Christine and John.”

 

Faye nodded again.

 

“Is it true you’re a witch? asked Beth.

 

Faye narrowed her eyes and studied each of her new companions in turn. “How is it you’ve heard this?”

 

John spoke. “You’re from Spring Manor aren’t you? We all remember old Rowena Spring. She was a witch – everyone knew that. And you must be her daughter.”

 

Faye nodded. “My mother died the day my daughter Esme was born fifty six years ago. It’s ever the way of our family. Esme should have absorbed my mother’s spirit, but my daughter turned away from the family traditions. Now Rowena’s spirit roams the ethereal plain with nowhere to anchor. Strangest of all, Esme has a daughter of her own – and I’m still alive! It shouldn’t be this way.”

 

Annie, Beth, Christine and John all sat nodding sagely at Faye’s words, yet Faye could have laughed out loud at the confusion plain on all their faces – had it not been such a tough subject for her that is.

 

Finally Christine said, “So what will you do now?”

 

“I hope to speak with my daughter next week.”

 

“I heard the staff talking. They don’t believe you’re a witch. They think you’re a delusional, cranky old woman. Rotten lot have no respect. If that Tayla calls me ‘lovely’ one more time…”

 

“I know right. They talk to us like we’re three years old or something.”

 

“Yes, and they feed us such bland food. What I wouldn’t give for a plate of chicken masala, or a pepperoni pizza.”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t mind a G&T.”

 

“Sooner have a pint of Guinness.”

 

“Ugh! And they make us sit through bingo every fortnight. What kind of morons do they think we are?”

 

“And they tell us off if we pee in bed, even though they can’t be bothered to take us to the bathroom when we need to go.”

 

Faye mulled all this over for a while. Then she made a decision. If she was going to be stuck here for a few days, the least she could do was help these four people – and have a bit of fun as an added bonus. “Let’s see what we can conjure up shall we?”

 

While Faye sat chatting with her new friends, Tayla came over.

 

“Hello Lovely, time to check your blood sugar.”

 

Beth raised one eyebrow and chewed the inside of her cheek as Tayla pricked her finger and extracted a drop of blood.

 

‘That’s funny. Lovely’s an unusual name, and I thought you were called Beth,” said Faye, playing the innocent enquirer.

 

Tayla glanced at Faye. “Oh, it’s just what I called her.” She turned to Beth. “Isn’t it my Lovely?”

 

“You do indeed, whether I like it or not.”

 

“There you go my Lovely, all done. 6.3, not bad at all.”

 

Faye looked across at Beth and went cross-eyed, making Beth chuckle. Then she flicked a hand at the receding nurse.

 

Tayla’s heel came adrift from her shoe so suddenly that Tayla tumbled in an unceremonious heap to the floor – amidst a cheer and a round of applause from Faye and her friends.

 

“Oops!” said Faye.

 

Dinnertime at Bollinger’s.  The dining room was large, with a high ceiling and panelling around the lower three feet or so of the walls. Each round table held six residents, but Faye didn’t want anyone but the five of them there. She talked to the sixth chair and it walked off to the side of the room. They all watched it go, laughing at it’s drunken gait. Some of the other resident saw it too, and watched the miracle cheerfully.

 

“Did you see that?” said a woman at the next table to no one in particular.

 

The auxiliary staff came round to the tables with the food. Each plate held two lamb cutlets, an ice-cream scoops-worth of mashed potato, sliced carrots and dark green cabbage – all swimming in too-thin gravy.

 

“Yuk. What the hell!” said Faye. “Don’t eat it. Sit back in your chairs.”

 

Already Faye’s authority over the little group of residents was unquestioned. They all sat back with their arms folded, leaving the unappetising meal untouched.

 

After a while one of the staff came over. Shrugged and said, “Suit yourselves,” as she cleared the plates away.

 

There were tea-plates over on the sideboard. Faye called five of them over, and they floated to the table in an orderly manner, settling in front of each of them. A salver drifted into being in the middle of the table. Even before Faye lifted the lid, the tantalising aroma of chicken masala drifted around the room.

 

“Hey!” said a man on another table. “Why do we get soggy cutlets and they get curry?

 

As Faye and her friends tucked in a near riot ensued and the staff were running around trying to calm the residents.

 

Cook came through the double doors into the dining room. “Who authorised a takeaway and why didn’t it come in via the kitchen?”

 

By now Jane had been alerted to trouble. She strode into the dining room, and summarily dismissed the cook, who was babbling complaints to her. Jane narrowed her eyes and headed straight for Faye. “Did you sneak a mobile phone in here?”

 

“Me? No. If I had, I’d have ordered a taxi home before now.”

 

“Where did all this come from?” she indicated the food on the table.

 

What the hell. “I’m a witch.”

 

One of Jane’s eyebrows went up. “I don’t know how you managed to get this food ordered, or who you expect to pay for it, but I will get to the bottom of this – and I won’t stand for any further disruption.”

 

Faye shrugged, both palms turned up. “I’m a witch.”

 

Jane stomped off.

 

Faye turned to her companions and pulled her neck back. “She asked. I told her. Can’t say fairer than that.”

 

Cook had reappeared from the kitchen. She came over to their table and looked curiously at the salver of food, and then grabbed a spoon and scooped up a dollop of chicken masala.

 

As she lifted it to her mouth, Faye curled, then flicked out her little finger. It was a barely perceptible movement. As she did so, she muttered, “Jalapino.”

 

The spoon disappeared into Cook’s mouth, and the poor woman let out a scream, spat the food out and went running to the sideboard where she poured a glass of water and drank the lot. It hardly helped, as she waved her hand frantically in front of her mouth whilst practically panting.

 

“A bit spicy for you?” asked Faye.

 

Cook glowered at her and went back to the kitchen.

 

“Well ladies…and John. What shall we have for breakfast?”

 

Beth rubbed her hands together, and Annie nearly fell off her chair laughing. Everyone was delighted with the evening’s work.

 

~ * ~

 

Throughout the next few days, strange events continued to happen. Jane tripped on the carpet, which was odd because it was made up of carpet tiles that were firmly glued to the floor. She twisted her ankle in the fall and was now hobbling around with a walking stick. Tim somehow spilled the contents of a used bedpan all over Bob when he came for his next visit. Cook chopped the end of a finger off whilst using the meat slicer, and had to go to the hospital and have it stitched back on. Tayla’s uniform caught fire when the iron exploded, and one of the other nurses had to throw her to the floor and heave a heavy rug over her. The lights were playing up, turning on and off for no apparent reason – when the electrician came, the rungs of his stepladder fell out of the frame. The tv in the lounge kept switching over to the National Geographic Channel – which, coincidentally happened to be Faye’s favourite channel.

 

There were unexpected deliveries of numerous random items, including ten large rolls of bubble wrap, three saddles specially crafted for use in riding camels, a replica of the Venus de Milo and a didgeridoo all the way from Australia – to name but a few.

 

It was the final straw for Jane when a group of male strippers dressed up as The Village People showed up for Christine’s birthday surprise. She called Faye to her office.

 

“I don’t know how you are staging all these…incidents and…happenings, but it needs to stop – NOW.”

 

Faye affected her best wide-eyed, innocent expression. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just an old lady.”

 

“Before, you claimed to be a witch.”

 

“And you believed me?”

 

“No.”

 

Faye turned her hands, palms up, and shook her head. “Well then!”

 

“Your daughter will be here tomorrow. Let’s see what she has to say about all this.”

 

“Splendid,” said Faye. She turned on her heel and hobbled from the office. The corners of her mouth turned up – just a little.

 

~ * ~

 

“Are you trying to tell me my mother’s responsible for a series of accidents and the delivery of some poorly arranged purchases? That’s ridiculous,” said Esme.

 

Esme had pulled up in a taxi just half an hour earlier, and had gone straight in to see Jane.

 

Faye had been delighted she’d come alone. She sat fidgeting in a chair in the hallway outside the office, waiting to see her daughter. It had been so long. Despite her age, she had excellent hearing and had caught almost everything that had been said. It made her chuckle to hear what an idiot Jane sounded trying to pin everything that had gone wrong in the last week or so on her – despite not believing in the existence of magic – stupid woman!

 

Finally Faye was called in to the office. She couldn’t help but stare at her daughter. It was like looking into a mirror – minus a few decades of course. Also Esme had somehow managed to get her mass of tight curls into some sort of order. Faye had given up trying years earlier, and simply allowed her hair to ‘do it’s own thing’ as she always described it.

 

Esme scanned Faye up and down without a word, then turned back to Jane. “I wish to speak to my mother alone.”

 

“Of course. Her room is just down the hall.”

 

Esme pursed her lips, clearly she’d expected Jane to vacate her own office and leave them to it. But she nodded and headed out the door.

 

Faye followed.

 

As soon as they shut the door on the rest of the building, Esme rounded on her mother. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, using your witchery this way?”

 

“It’s just a bit of fun, and the silly woman doesn’t think folk like us exist. Now then, is that taxi still outside? I’m done with this place. Take me home will you?”

 

“Oh, I’ll take you home alright. At least there you can’t draw so much attention to yourself.”

 

Faye had already packed her bag.

 

“Wait a minute. That’s why you’ve been casting all these spells. So that I’d take you out of here to avoid any further embarrassment.”

 

A big grin broke out on Faye’s face.

 

“Dammit mother. Give me that,” said Esme as she snatched Faye’s bag from her and opened the door.

 

Christine, Beth, Annie and John crowded round Faye as she came out of her room with her coat on.

 

“You’re not leaving are you?” asked Beth.

 

“We’ve been having so much fun since you came. You’ve livened this place up no end,” said Annie.

 

Faye looked fondly at her friends and spoke softly to them. “Please understand. I was never meant to be here. My very life is tied inexorably to Spring Manor.”

 

“Will you come and visit us?” asked Christine.

 

“Yes do please,” reiterated John.

 

“No.” Faye almost left it at that, but at the disappointment written all over their faces, she added, “But you are all invited to tea next Saturday.” Faye was surprised at how gratifying she found it to see the pleasure in their eyes at the invite. With that she made her slow way to the front door.

 

As the taxi pulled up outside Spring Manor, Esme’s husband, Jack, came out to greet them.

 

Faye nodded curtly to him, but she only had eyes for the beautiful young woman standing beside him. “You must be my granddaughter.”

 

The woman smiled warmly. “I’m Cassy, grandma. I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you.”

 

They all went inside. Faye whispered to Esme. “How much does she know?”

 

“All of it. When she started to show signs of having power, I had to tell her. It was the only way to keep her in check.”

 

Faye tutted.

 

“It was never my intention to keep this going. I thought getting married – to someone I chose, living away from here, having a normal life, would put an end to it all. Then I caught Cassy floating the cat in her bedroom. Of course, she didn’t realise she was different.”

 

A band tightened in Faye’s stomach. “Is that really what you want – to supress her natural abilities?”

 

“Yes. Just a normal life for Cassy – there’s nothing natural about this mother.” Esme sighed. “When leaving here stopped me from absorbing Grandma’s spirit, I thought that would be it. A forlorn hope it seems. I had to tell her our family history, and what she could and couldn’t do in front of the other kids at school, and then more recently, at University – I told her she’d be ostracised for being different”, she hesitated a moment. “Just like I was.”

 

Faye’s head snapped up, and she gazed at Esme’s troubled face. “You?”

 

“I never told you. I thought my pals would be pleased to have a witch friend. They were are first, but after a time they began to pick on me – fear I guess. Until one day they beat and kicked me until I was black and blue – do you remember when I came home and told you I’d fallen down the stairs at school?”

 

Faye was incredulous. “You took a beating? Esme, my dear, didn’t I always press on you to keep our secret?”

 

Esme’s eyes burned. “Huh! And yet I get a phone call from that damned home about all the unexplained tricks you’ve been up to.”

 

“There aren’t many benefits to getting old, but you do get away with things you could never do as a younger woman. I’m so sorry you went through so much trauma, but you really should have talked to me about it. But never mind all that now. What do you intend to do about Cassy?”

 

Esme bit her lip. “I’ve talked to Jack. We’ve decided to move in here. He doesn’t like it, but he adores Cassy and hopefully understands that if we don’t educate her into her witchery, she could end up an outcast.”

 

“Wait. You’re bringing a man to live in this house?”

 

“My husband.”

 

“But…”

 

“It’s not up for debate. Our house is on the market. The lorry with our belongings arrives tomorrow. Live with it.”

 

Cassy had been exploring all the rooms in the house and now breezed into the kitchen, where Jack sat with a cuppa, just as Faye and Esme came in. She caught the look of consternation on Faye’s face as she glared at Jack. “I love the house Grandma. Which is going to be my room? When do I get to see the sceptre? Oh and by the way Grandma, Dad’s pretty cool you know.”

 

Faye couldn’t keep up her bad feeling about a man living in the house whilst her delightful granddaughter beamed her enthusiasm in her direction.

 

“The wiccan sceptre will be yours now Cassy. I don’t know what will happen when you take charge of it.” Faye glanced at Esme, then turned back to Cassy. “When your mother left, having never taken the sceptre as her own, your Great Grandma’s spirit was left with nowhere to go. She’s still here. Maybe you’ll take her in. I don’t know. It should be my spirit you’d have absorbed of course, but the line has been broken. It’s unprecedented.”

 

Jack stared at his mother-in-law, then at his wife. “Just hold on a minute. You didn’t say anything about spirits. What’s this going to do to my daughter? I think we should just forget the whole thing. Come on Cassy. We’re leaving.” He went to stand.

 

“No!” said Cassy.

 

Esme laid a hand on Jack’s arm. “It won’t harm Cassy. She’ll just have a few additional, inherited memories – that’s right isn’t it mother?”

 

Faye scowled at Jack. “Indeed. And it’s quite vague, like dreams that have half floated away upon waking. But they come with a little additional magical power, and the instinct for appropriate use. This is why it’s so important to pass the sceptre to each generation at the right time.” She turned away from Jack and smiled at her daughter and granddaughter in turn. “We’ll perform the ceremony Saturday.”

 

Esme nodded.

 

But Faye could see the agitation on Jack’s miserable face.

 

~ * ~

 

It was Saturday afternoon, and after several abortive attempts over the last few days to get his family to leave, Jack slumped into a chair.

 

“Why don’t you go for a walk or something?” Faye sniped at him.

 

“Not bloody likely. I’m staying here to make sure my daughter doesn’t come to any harm.”

 

“Harm? Harrrm? Do you really…”

 

“Forget it Mother. You won’t convince him until he sees that Cassy’s okay for himself. Now let’s get this over with.”

 

Faye nodded and went to the fireplace where she waved her hand over the mantelpiece. The wiccan sceptre shimmered into visibility, resting on its elaborately carved holder. The sceptre itself was quite plain. Made of a rich mid-brown wood that shone in the candlelight, with small pieces of Mother-of-Pearl inlay decorating one end, and beaten silver at the other.

 

Cassy gasped at the sight. Her eyes lit up to match the ancient wood. She looked stunning in her pale blue robe, worn at Faye’s insistence. It matched Faye’s own, and Cassy was only too happy to dress the traditional way.

  

Esme sighed. She had little truck with such ceremonial nonsense. She still had her usual plain blouse and slacks on, though she was wearing a silver ring that Faye had taken from her little finger.

 

Faye passed another to Cassy, so that now all three of them had their ‘marriage to the craft’ band on the smallest finger of their left hands.

 

Jack narrowed his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be doing this sort of thing in the dead of night in a full moon or something?” he asked.

 

Faye caught the sarcasm in his tone, but opted to answer him anyway. “Certainly not. We don’t want to attract dark spirits.” She smiled when she saw him cast a worried glance at his daughter.

 

Taking down the sceptre, all three women took a hold of it, ensuring their silver rings were in contact with the silver on the sceptre. With heads bowed they muttered an ancient spell in a long forgotten language.

 

Wind whipped through the room lifting curtains, and rattling the ornaments on the sideboard.

 

Faye had no idea how this would work with three of them instead of two, but she trusted the long-standing ceremony, and the spirit of her own mother Rowena.

 

They all turned at Jack’s gasp. The wind had stopped, and there stood Rowena bathed in shimmering light.

 

Esme approached her. “Hello Grandmother.”

 

Rowena looked her up and down. “You’ve kept me waiting a long time child.” Her voice was at once nearby and yet distant.

 

“I just wanted a normal life. Was that so much to ask?”

 

“Normal? What’s normal for most isn’t normal for folk like us. But I have no wish to continue my existence alongside such a reluctant companion. Since you’ve broken the chain anyway, I will join with Cassandra.” She turned to Faye. “It’s good to see you in the flesh once more Faye. I don’t know if this is a gift or a burden, but you get to live a while longer yet.” Rowena lifted her hand to Faye’s face, but her cold non-corporeal fingers passed through her cheek sending a chill shiver through Faye’s body.

 

Faye said nothing, but felt a tear trickle down at the sight of her mother’s kindly eyes.

 

Finally Rowena turned to Cassy. “Are you ready Cassandra?”

 

“Yes Great Grandmother.”

 

The wind built up again as Rowena’s form dissolved from sight. It swirled rapidly until it became an eddy, like a small tornado, until suddenly it slammed into Cassy’s chest. Cassy was thrown to the floor from the force of it. Jack went to go to her, but Faye pushed him away, and pinned him with a glare.

 

Finally Cassy stood back up and looked all around. There was something old in her eyes now. Something of Rowena.

 

“Are you alright?” Esme asked.

 

“I feel amazing. Full of light and understanding.” Then she frowned. “But what is that annoying ringing?”

 

They all heard the front door creak slowly open and stared at each other confused.

 

“Anybody home?”

 

“Beth?”

 

“Hello. Yes.”

 

Beth, Annie, Christine and John bundled into the front room, looking around in amazement at the disarray.

 

“You invited us over for tea, don’t you remember? It’s not a bad time is it?” Asked Annie.

 

Faye laughed out loud. “ No. It’s not a bad time at all. Please take a seat, and perhaps my Granddaughter can conjure up something nice to eat.