With a guilty start Ella realised how much she’d underestimated the people in the village. Although the fact that they were famous or successful once didn’t take away from the way they’d all welcomed her and been kind to her.
A ping announced a text. Doris’s eyes sharpened and Ella eagerly pulled her phone out of her pocket.
Tess fine. Sleeping it off. You can pick her up this afternoon.
‘Phew.’ Ella sagged, suddenly aware of the weight of her fears. ‘She’s going to be all right.’
‘Of course she is, dear.’ Doris waved a serene hand. ‘I think this calls for sherry.’
Before Ella could answer, she jumped up a bit too quickly and then winced. ‘Oops.’ She rubbed at her knees. ‘Still paying for all that dancing the other day. Bit stiff.’
‘Let me. In the kitchen?’
‘Yes,’ Doris sank thankfully back into her high-backed arm chair. ‘Always keep my Tio Pepe in the fridge.’
Like the living room, Doris’s kitchen was full of very expensive gadgets: a cranberry-coloured Kitchen Aid, a rather grand Rangemaster oven, two sets of Le Creuset saucepans, one red and one blue, hanging from shelves on the wall and a pink Smeg fridge in the corner.
You could barely see the front of the fridge for the little magnets pinning all sorts of notes and reminders. As Ella grasped the bottle of sherry and went to close the door, she noticed a familiar sheet of navy blue paper and the slash of silver writing.
Doris appeared at the door. Ella averted her eyes quickly.
‘Glasses are in that cupboard.’ She pointed.
‘Oh my word.’ The cupboard was full of fine crystal glasses in every shape and size.
‘I do a lot of competitions. Win a lot.’ Doris grinned. ‘All down to Magda, of course.’
‘Magda?’
‘Oh, yes, she’s got the magic touch. Ever since she discovered she was related to a witch, she’s been dabbling with a few spells here and there.’
‘Spells?’ Ella raised a sceptical eyebrow.
‘Mmm – that’s what I thought, but ever since she gave me a little poem to say before I send off my entries, I’ve had the devil’s own luck. Won all sorts, I have. Although I’m still not sure what I’m going to do with the Mini Cooper. Never had a driving licence in my life.’
Ella smiled, thinking of the sense of serenity she’d felt after reciting Magda’s blessing. ‘I think you might be right.’
Maybe Magda did have a touch of magic after all.
Chapter Thirty-Two
At Ella’s feet, Tess yawned and stretched.
‘I think it’s time we got some fresh air, don’t you?’ said Ella.
They were only allowed to take very short walks. Tess needed to rest, as her heart had had rather a thorough workout.
‘Come on, then,’ said Ella. She’d taken to walking Tess around the rec twice each day but she missed the routine of their long walks and the good couple of hours’ exercise they normally took each morning. On the plus side, she’d invested the extra time in painting and her work had suddenly seemed to flow. It was almost as if saying goodbye to Patrick once and for all had loosened something inside her. Now her painting was for herself and she could enjoy it – indulge in the colours, the light and shade and the sheer joy of creating without worrying about anyone judging her work.
Tess rolled to her feet as if she understood what Ella had said. ‘It’ll do us both good to get out. And why am I even asking you? You’re not going to answer me.’ Tess looked keen, though.
As they left the cottage, Ella picked up her pace. Today was not the sort of day for hanging around. A fine drizzle filled the air, the sort that gave off the type of dampness which seeped through the gaps and cracks of your clothes. No one else had been stupid enough to venture out and Ella and Tess completed a solitary circuit of the park. The swings swung disconsolately, empty and lonely, the benches were bare of the usual toddlers and mothers and the playing field was empty of any playmates for Tess. Ella had to plod along rather than being able to stridequickly to get rid of the restless energy that seemed to have built up and was now ready to burst.
On a sudden whim as they were heading home, she diverted to the village shop.
As she piled her stash of a dozen eggs, self-raising flour, baking powder, caster sugar and two boxes of icing sugar, the man running the shop looked on gloomily.
‘Baking?’ He shook his head. ‘You can always tell when the Spring Fayre’s coming up. Everyone starts baking.’
