‘Like I was saying,’ she went on as I rushed over to pick up the pieces of Virginia’s broken cup. ‘I’m a witch. Did y’all know or what?’
‘Lydia Virginia Sarah Powell, that’s enough.’
Virginia stood, speaking to her granddaughter but staring straight at me and if looks really could kill, I’d have been six feet under the earth in less time than it took to blink.
‘It’s too early in the day for your nonsense, now please sit down at the table if you’re intending to eat. Miss Emily, I’m sure you have somewhere better to be right now.’
‘Not nonsense and Emily stays.’
Lydia pulled two chairs out from under the table, one for me and one for her. I took mine reluctantly, really not sure where to look.
‘I’m a witch, she’s a witch so you’re a witch.’ She pointed to herself, to me and to Virginia. ‘Witches all the way down.’
‘This is absurd.’ Virginia stood, clutching at the stiff starchedcollar of her shirt as though it were suddenly choking her. ‘This is absurd and I won’t listen to it.’
‘Anything we can do about that cup? Can you whizz up some magical Gorilla Glue?’ Lydia asked as I assembled all the pieces in front of me.
‘In theory,’ I said, hands hovering over the pieces. ‘It’s only clay, stone and bone ash.’
‘Bone ash?’
‘Animal bones.’
‘That is so not vegan,’ she replied, grimacing. ‘Who knew cups could be so gross?’
Virginia pressed her fingertips into her temples, her face pale and drawn. ‘Excuse me, I feel my migraine coming on. I’m going to my room, please do not disturb me.’
Lydia gave me a look and without moving, I closed the dining room door.
‘So cool,’ she said on a sigh. ‘Can’t wait until I can do that stuff too – and I’ll be doing it soon because, like I said before, I am a witch.’
When she raised her voice at the end of the sentence, her grandmother sank slowly back into her chair. Alex, who had not moved since we walked in, picked up her napkin and I saw her dab a single tear away from her eye, just before it fell.
‘Who wants to start?’ Lydia asked, glancing from family member to family member. ‘Mom? Grandmother? Or do you want to let Em take it from the top and y’all can put your pieces in the puzzle after you hear her story?’
‘Lydia, stop,’ her mother said forcefully. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying.’
‘I know I summoned a lightning storm last night. I know I drew water out of the ocean and turned it into rain to put out a fire set by a demon werewolf.’
A tiny gasp escaped Virginia’s throat as she touched her hand to her chest.
‘Not a demon,’ I whispered. ‘A regular werewolf. As far as we know.’
‘How did this happen?’ the oldest Powell woman asked, fingers fluttering at her collarbone.
‘Which part?’ Lydia replied through a mouthful of toast.
Understandably, her grandmother looked as though she didn’t know where to begin.
‘I understand if this all feels like a lot to accept,’ I told her, no more certain myself. ‘It’s true, I am a witch, so is Lydia. Your family and mine have a history of magic going back centuries. It’s been dormant in the Powell line for years, decades maybe, but there is a prophecy in my family that says a witch will awaken the dormant magic of her sisters—’
‘Not only in your family.’
Virginia Powell sat up straight and rested her hands on the table, cool and composed. The frail little old lady who’d existed up until one minute ago disappeared, nothing but a lifelong act.
‘So it’s you, is it?’ She stared at me as though she was seeing me for the first time. ‘No wonder Catherine was always so desperate to get you back. You’re the one.’
The slice of toast slipped from Lydia’s fingers and across the table. Tears flowed freely down her mother’s face.
