Back at Steamy Sips, Breeze was waiting for an update, but Dave from the Balls Club had cornered her at a table.
“We can bring our own poles. They’re all pressurised. Don’t need screws or anything and they’ll be down again before you open.” The man in the charcoal tracksuit and New Balance shoes was saying as he pushed his rectangle spectacles up. She gave me a nod as I passed.
“And where exactly were you thinking of installing them?” She asked, pinching the bridge of her nose.
That woman had the patience of a saint.
I headed straight out back to the kitchen. The range hood filter was a grease trap just waiting to combust. I had just opened the cupboard under the sink when a little furry head appeared at my side.
“Taco!”
She narrowed her eyes and pulled her lips back into a grin.
“I’m happy to see you too, little one,” I said, scooping her onto my lap as I sat cross-legged on the floor. I scratched her under both ears. Her brown eyes stared into mine.
“What are you thinking, huh?” I asked as she groaned and tilted her head.
“Can I be a dog too? Then I wouldn’t have to visit Pissy Lissy.”
A lump rose in my throat. My eyes misted at the thought of spending any more time with that woman. I felt the familiar panic building in my chest like galloping hooves. Don’t cry, Riley.
Blinking rapidly, I looked around the room to distract myself, but it felt like the air had vanished. I sniffed, trying to stop the tear that had let itself loose on my cheek. Taco immediately stood on her two back legs, her front legs resting on my chest as her gaze searched my face again.
“I’m okay,” I whispered, trying to soothe her. “You don’t need to worry.”
She didn’t shift. Instead, she stretched her neck further. I smiled at her through tears that were now falling.Ahh,how I hated to cry in public places. And make no mistake about it, the kitchen floor of the café I’d been working at for less than a day was a public place.
Low point Riley. Low point.
I didn’t realise what she was doing until I felt the warmth of her tiny tongue on my cheek and my heart filled, and burst into a thousand tiny pieces. Taco lapped at my tears as they continued to fall, and I snorted trying to bat her away, but she kept licking until I’d stopped.
“Weirdo,” I whispered.
She curled up like a tiny croissant in my lap and fell asleep.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I arrangedthe first meeting with Miss Lissy on that Saturday. Might as well face the demon and get it over with. The sooner I saw her, the sooner she might spill something useful, and the sooner I could forget all about her and get the hell out of here.
“I’m off. Unless you want to switch faces and go for me?” I said to Breeze, who was restacking the cutlery tray.
“As delightfully gory as that sounds, I don’t give off the same go-fuck-yourself vibe as you do. And God knows what that woman does with imposters.”
“I think she keeps them in tiny jars,” I replied.
“I’m claustrophobic, so that’s me out,” Breeze said.
“Fine,” I sighed, pulling on my denim jacket. The café bell jingled, and Breeze followed me out from the back.
“I’ll make an apple pie,” she called as I walked out the door. “Everything is better after apple pie and ice cream.”
I smiled at her through the window as I made my way to Thirsk Street. There wasn’t far to go. I was learning that everything in a small town was five minutes away. There had to be some perks to small-town living. If I could just stop theconstant chit-chat from strangers who seemed to think we were long-lost friends, I might even stay longer.
Miss Lissy’s house was nothing like I expected. A Gothic castle of blackness would have been more fitting. Instead, I stood in front of a Victorian-style home built in warm red brick, with a bay window looking out onto the vast garden, and a small white patio that was enveloped in a cocoon of colourful flowers. It looked like a place for the magical. Monarchs and Holly Blues flittered from flower to flower while a smiling scarecrow dressed in rainbow-striped pants held up several wrens who didn’t seem at all bothered by his existence. It reminded me of a scene from a children’s book, and I swallowed hard, feeling a flame of anger lick from my chest at the deception of it. Just like the entrance to Bellamy House. This woman was dangerous. No doubt about it. But her yard screamed‘welcome!’.
“Welcome,” Miss Lissy called from the stained-glass front door. She held a tray of iced tea. Creepy.
“Hi,” I replied, far less enthusiastic, as the latch of the waist-high wrought-iron gate clicked shut behind me. The garden smelled incredible. Honeysuckle climbed the patio pillars, and lavender lined both sides of the steps, prolonging the illusion. Because it was a witch, not a good fairy, waiting at the top. I still wasn’t sure how I’d let myself get roped into this. Temporary insanity? Lingering authority? A sick need to walk myself back into the lion’s den over and over again? Almost certainly the last one. I just didn’t know why.
