“Fine, fine. I take it back. Arabella has no special ‘I’m a vampire expert’ face, nor any penchant for revenge. Welcome to the world of the supernatural, Winnie.” Beth holds out her tray, and a waft of burnt-bean scent assaults my nostrils. “Brownie?”
“No thanks, I’m full.”
“Full of Celeste’s scones, are you?” Beth glares around the room as she shoves Celeste’s empty platters aside to place her brownies front and centre. “The rest of you better finish these. I’ve been slaving over the stove for hours to get them just right and I think the cultured sea vegetable drizzle gives them a delightful zing?—”
“Crooooak!” Quoth dive-bombs the table, sending brownies flying across the floor.
“Quoth!” Beth glares at him, hands on hips.
“Sorry, Beth.” Mina covers her mouth, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter as Quoth hops across the table, trying to shake cultured sea vegetable drizzle off the tip of his wing.
Beth pouts as she flops into the beanbag next to Arabella. “I propose we take a vote on whether male birds should be allowed at ourgirls onlybook club meetings.”
“Croak!”
“We’ll add it to the agenda.” Isis raps her knuckles against the now-empty table as she shoves the final bite of scone into her mouth. “I’ve already called the meeting to order. Our first item of the evening has been to encourage Winnie to stay in Argleton and bang her hot vampire boss.”
“Hear hear!” everyone yells.
“Our second item of business is a very important request from Komal.”
Komal stands up and taps the badge on her t-shirt that declares “Proud Member of the Argleton Tourism Board”. “As you all know, I’m the organiser of this year’s Midsummer Festival, which is taking place on Saturday on the village green.”
“Explain for the Londoner,” I say, happy for the conversationto veer away from me.
“Midsummer is the name given to the ancient European tradition of celebrating the summer solstice – the longest day of the year,” explains Isis. “It’s a time to embrace the warmth and abundance of summer. It’s one of my favourite witchy celebrations because it’s the perfect time for rituals of rebirth, healing, and fertility.”
She elbows me. My cheek flush with heat, and everyone giggles.
“Midsummer Festival is so fun,” Maisie says. “I cover it every year for the paper. Everyone in the village gathers on the green. There’s an outdoor concert, a fete, games, and of course, the bonfire.”
“Every year I make a special Midsummer Festival cake,” Celeste adds. “This year, I’m experimenting with summer berries …”
“The plans are in place, and I truly believe it will be the best festival ever. But we don’t have nearly enough stalls and Counsellor Durant is breathing down my neck, looking for any excuse to get rid of the festival. He actually said that people didn’t want to participate in apagan aberration.” Komal makes a face. “I’ve got Celeste’s cake stall, and Beth’s running her natural skincare booth, and we’ve got Richard from the pub with his cider, but three of our regular stalls pulled out. The Argleton Naughty Knitting Society can’t run their booth this year because two of their members need hip operations, and Helen Wilde is too afraid of the murderer on the loose to run her new sex toy business.”
“Thank the gods,” Mina whispers under her breath. I gather from their surnames that Helen must be related to her.
“Cynthia Lachlan’s Jammery and that overpriced local knickknack store also declined because of the murderer.” Komal folds her arms and glares around the room. “So I need the rest of you to either find the vamp responsible or help me come up with at least three new booths for this year’s festival.”
“Heathcliff made me promise not to do a bookstore this year,” Mina says. “After last year’s disaster.”
“Well, you’ll have to tell him to suck it up and try again. This is forcharity.”
“Maybe Winnie and Alaric will have a stall,” Isis clasps her hands over her heart. “A kissing booth?—”
“We’renotpressuring Winnie.” Dora elbows her sister. “If she wants to stay, we’ll welcome her as an official member of the book club and help her figure out how to navigate a relationship with a vampire. But if she leaves, we’ll all watch her on TV and talk about this cool Clutter Queen who we used to hang out with before she became a big-time star.”
“Fine.” Isis pouts, but then her face lights up. “I know – Dora and I will do our fortune-telling booth again!”
“Can’t we just enjoy the festival this year?” Dora mumbles.
“Everyone loves our fortunes.” Isis beams. “Besides, I’m the one who does all the work. I must channel all my energies into reading the cards, while Dora sits on her arse with the cash box and sells her herbal teas.”
“If you think I contribute nothing to the affair, then you should run the booth yourself this year?—”
As the girls argue about possible Midsummer Festival booths, I stare at the phone in my hands. There’s a text from Reginald.
Reginald: I’ve packed your things into the trunk. After your meeting is finished, I’ll drive you home to London.
