The roads were quiet, and in no time at all they were pulling up onto the drive at home and the tractor was bathed in the glow from a thousand fairy lights glittering across the lawns and walls of Hallow House.
“Thanks, Mr. Bishop,” said Fred, when they’d extractedAunt Aggie from her nest in the trailer. “I really appreciate your help.”
“Anytime,” the farmer grumbled, slamming the tailgate shut.
“Phew!” Aunt Aggie puffed as she and Cam pulled straw out of her hair. “That’s my first roll in the hay in a while.” The singing Christmas tree began its warbling but Aggie held her hand up and said, firmly, “Shush!” And to Fred’s surprise, it did.
Mr. Bishop shouted, “Tally ho!” as he chugged back down the drive in his tractor, the trailer clanking behind it.
Fred checked her phone for what felt like the fiftieth time as she trailed into Hallow House behind her aunts. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Ryan?” she asked Cam.
“No, love, but your mum messaged to say they were all at the hospital and that Diggory is stable,” Cam replied.
“Oh, that’s a relief.” She hoped Ryan was okay, too, he’d been visibly shaken by the news. But she was sure Benj and Rab would look out for him.
“I’ll tell you what,” said Aunt Aggie, “get into your jimjams and come and meet us out by the chiminea for a nightcap.”
“It’s pretty late. Wouldn’t you rather be in bed?”
“Pish!” was Aggie’s response. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be very good company at the moment,” said Fred.
“Even at your very worst, you are our most favorite kind of company, my love,” said Aunt Cam. “And feeling out of sorts is the best time to let go of those things that areweighing you down. You’ve been through a lot in the last few years; I think setting some new intentions will help you to move forward. It’s time to compile a new wish list, one for the woman you are now. And to stop worrying about the things that can’t be changed.”
“Cam’s right. The past can take care of itself, it’s the present that needs your attention.” Aunt Aggie nodded sagely at her.
Fred considered: did she really want to be alone in the dark with her thoughts right now? “Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes,” she called, taking the stairs to her bedroom two at a time.
It was not lost on her that, only a few weeks ago, she would have poo-pooed the very idea of setting intentions, and yet here she was preparing for her second go in one night. Ryan was right; when she was a child, being in touch with her spirituality and her place in the universe was simply a way of living, but in her quest for “normality” she had shut those pathways down. She could see now how both Tim and being “normal” were vastly overrated.
Once in her bedroom, Fred texted Ryan, asking how his dad was. She changed into her brushed-cotton pajamas with squirrels and acorns on, pulled on her thickest bedsocks and topped off the ensemble with her teddy-fleece dressing gown and a knitted bobble hat, before padding downstairs. She grabbed her mum’s Dryrobe, pulled on her Wellington boots and headed out to the aunts, looking like a walking clothes-horse. Halfway along the garden path her phone pinged.
Dad’s stable. It was angina, he’s got some new medication. He’ll be okay. They’re keeping him in overnight. I’ll bring Mum home shortly. Mina told me you’d got the boat sorted, thanks for that. x
She read the message over twice, fingers hovering as she considered what to type. Watching and waiting as the three dots at the bottom of the screen kept appearing and disappearing, wondering what it was he was hesitant to write. When the dots stopped altogether, she typed a reply.
I’m so relieved to hear your dad’s okay. I’m sorry I was pushy before. For what it’s worth, I genuinely believe you made the right decision. Sending good thoughts to you all. x
She pressed “send” and waited. Nothing. No blue ticks. He was probably dealing with his family. Sighing, she pocketed her phone and wandered the winding path around to where her aunts sat on their bench, looking out to sea, a bright orange fire burning merrily in the chiminea. A moon chair with two rolled-up blankets in the seat had been set up at one end of the bench. Fred wrapped one blanket around her shoulders and sat down, tucking the other over her legs. It should have been blowing a hooley up here, butthe breeze was gentle, as though it didn’t want to intrude on their gathering.
“Did you hear from Mum?” she asked, snuggling down in the chair.
“She’s left the hospital, but she’s gone back to the pub with Liam for a drink,” said Aunt Aggie, pouring a stream of thick, dark hot chocolate from a large silver coffee pot into a teacup and passing it to Fred.
Fred could smell the alcohol in it before the cup reached her.
“We thought about postponing until your mother could be here, too, but I had a very strong feeling that tonight was right for you to be doing this,” said Aunt Cam.
Wow, thought Fred. When she’d asked the moon for guidance, she hadn’t expected it to be delivered quite so quickly. She sipped her hot chocolate; it was strong and sweet, spicy with ginger, and warming with Tia Maria and Baileys.
“Remind me, how do we start?” Fred asked.
“Goodness, it has been a long time for you, hasn’t it?” said Aunt Aggie.
She decided not to tell them exactly how long.
“Let’s start with the purge,” said Aunt Cam. “You’re going to let go of negative emotions.”
