“Perfect.”Zig stretched, sat up, and reached for the mug.He’d been drinking it with milk lately, but life had taught him not to be fussy.He took a sip, and the rich texture and spicy aroma filled his mouth.“Oh, fuck me, that’s good.”Maybe it wasn’t such a shitty morning, after all.
Si’s grin was broad enough to shine through all the hair.“Proper stuff, that.From the Eden project in Cornwall.Mum and Dad brought some back from their holidays.”
“Cornwall.That’s even farther west than this place, right?”
“Almost as far west as you can get without getting your feet wet.Why?You planning on moving on?”
The grin was gone.He was disappointed.Zig was almost certain of it.His spirits rose with his caffeine levels.“Nah, thought I’d stick around here for a bit.”
Si nodded, which, what the hell did that mean?Zig couldn’t tell if he was pleased or pissed off by the news.“Crackin’.So, I gotta get off to work, but you can stay here, or you know, do what you want?Esme—that’s me landlady—she’ll let you in the flat if I’m not around.”
That was fair enough.Zig wouldn’t have trusted himself with a spare key, either.“Yeah, I’ll have a wander.See what’s what.”
“Twenty minutes okay to get ready?”
“Plenty, long as I can use your shower?”
“Course you can.I’ll grab you a towel.”Si looked shy, somehow.“I’ll introduce you to Esme on the way out.She owns the shop downstairs.”
“Witchy stuff, right?”
“That’s right.But don’t go asking her about naked sabbats, or you’ll end up with a bunch of incense sticks shoved where the sun don’t shine.”
Esme-the-landlady didn’t look much like a witch to Zig.For a start, her hair wasn’t long or dyed.It was neatly cut in a natural-looking blonde bob.Okay, yeah, she was wearing a black dress, but it was knee-length and figure-hugging—and she had plenty of figure to hug.With her smart heels, statement necklace, and subtle makeup, she looked like she’d be more at home in a boardroom than on a broomstick.
“Es?This is Zig.He’s an old mate.From London.”
Zig pushed down the stupid pang of hurt atmate, smiled, and stepped forward, putting out a hand.“Nice to meet you.”
She left him hanging and raised an eyebrow.“Likewise, I’m sure.How long are you staying for?”
Cheers for the effusive welcome, missus.“Not sure.Never been round this way before.Gotta see all the sights and that.”
“Oh, you’re here for thesights, are you?”
Zig’s smile didn’t waver.He made sure of that.“And to look up my old mate, Si.”See?I can use the m-word too.
“Si?”She cocked her head, her brow faintly furrowed.
Beside him, Si, well, sighed.“It’s me name, innit?Short for Simon.”He turned to Zig.“Course, she knows me as—”
“Mr.Greczik,” Esme interrupted him with a knowing look.“We’re very formal here.So what should I call you, Mr...?”
“Call me Zig.”He wasn’t gonna play this game.What did she need his surname for, except to stalk him online?
“Oh, really?”She folded her arms and placed a finger on her chin.“You know, it’s been a long time since I met a Zigmund.Quite an unusual name around here.”
Si snorted.“It ain’t short for Zigmund.It’s a nickname, Es.Or should I say,Ms.Vile.”
Zig narrowed his eyes.Was Si taking the piss?Was she?“Talk about your unusual names.Vile?”
“There were over two hundred of us in the county in the 1881 census.Almost common.”She said it smugly.
Right.“Course, could be worse.I used to know a bloke whose surname was Smelly.Everyone called him Fartface.You get any bad nicknames at school?”
“No, I can’t recall that I did.”Zig had to hand it to her: she had the best poker face he’d seen in a long time.“And I’m not surprised your friend decided to lose touch.”
Not a friend.If Zig saw Fartface again, he’d cross the street to avoid him, and not only because the bloke had developed a vicious temper and a fondness for knives.“His loss.”He smirked.
