Edith hooked her arm through Tabitha’s, passing her the wreath of laurel leaves. They walked slowly through the family graveyard in the grounds of Cerensthorpe Abbey. In the distance, building work continued, a buzz of activity and renewal as the old house rose again, a phoenix reborn from the ashes of the fire. The indomitable spirit of the property reaching forward for a new chapter in its long and turbulent history.
The fire had caused a huge amount of damage to the west wing, but thanks to the swift arrival of the emergency services, the majority of the house had been saved. To Tabitha and Edith’srelief, the oldest parts of the property, including the scriptorium, were on the opposite side of the house and all had survived.
‘There he is,’ said Edith, pointing to the white marble gravestone as they rounded the corner and Tabitha smiled.
‘Gull,’ she called and he turned, looking up from his father’s grave where he had been bending down, clearing a few stray weeds.
His brown eyes twinkled when he saw her and a smile spread across his face. She felt the tingling sensation she always did when he was near.
‘I was telling Dad the football scores,’ he said, taking the wreath from Tabitha and kissing her before placing it on the grave.
‘He’s probably desperate to know,’ she murmured and Gulliver grinned.
‘How was Great-Granny?’ asked Gulliver.
‘In fine fettle,’ said Edith. ‘Now, if you two will excuse me, I’d like to check on the building work. The new windows are going in today and I promised to be there.’
Edith walked to a Motability scooter parked beside the gates of the graveyard and, with a cheery wave, fired up the engine and trundled away. Tabitha and Gulliver watched her go, taking a bend slightly too fast and leaning into the curve.
‘Thank goodness she didn’t buy a motorbike,’ said Tabitha.
‘She would have been a menace,’ Gulliver said.
He took Tabitha’s hand and they walked to the bench opposite the grave of Lemuel Swanne, Gulliver’s father.
‘I was talking to Dad about you today,’ he said.
‘Were you?’
‘Yes, I told him about how brave you were giving evidence to the police about Lucia,’ he said. ‘How you were the one who discovered her real identity and her connection to Cerensthorpe Abbey.’
‘Her story would have been tragic – if she hadn’t tried to poison you and Edith,’ said Tabitha.
‘Do you think she’ll be brought to justice this time?’
Tabitha shrugged. ‘Who knows? Perhaps. She was caught on the CCTV footage throwing petrol over the carpet on the stairs and setting fire to it,’ said Tabitha. ‘There was also the treatment you and Edith underwent to save your lives. The doctors stated at the time, and have since told the police, there was no doubt you’d been deliberately poisoned.’
After the firefighters had carried Tabitha, Gulliver and Edith from the house, there had been a long, terrifying wait as Gulliver and Edith were rushed to hospital. Tamar and Billy had arrived as the ambulance screeched away, blue lights clamouring carrying them. As she had been conscious, Tabitha had remained with the paramedics, and Tamar, who was quick to inform them she was a doctor, had agreed to take Tabitha to hospital to be checked. Once Tabitha had been declared fit, she, Tamar and Billy had hurried to intensive care to wait.
Each time the lift door opened, another sister had arrived, until all the Mundy sisters, with their respective spouses, sat grouped around Tabitha. When their parents, Roly and Maddy, had arrived and Maddy hugged Tabitha, her façade of bravery had finally broken and she had sobbed into her mother’s arms.
It was twenty-four hours before Gulliver was given the all-clear, by which time Molly had joined the Mundy family. Edith’s life hung in the balance for a week before the miracle of her survival began.
Lucia was arrested at Heathrow Airport as she tried to flee to Italy. Deemed a flight risk, she had been held in custody ever since.
It was when Edith finally came home and insisted on a family dinner to celebrate that they had asked Tabitha, if she felt able, to explain how she had saved them. The house had beeninspected and only the west wing had been extensively damaged. The remainder of the house was safe and liveable. Edith had insisted on moving back in and adopted different rooms while her suite was rebuilt. As the food had been served, Edith had confirmed she remembered nothing, Gulliver’s memory was also patchy.
With great reluctance, Tabitha had told them the full story, from receiving the file from Mikey Jarrett, fighting with Lucia, then discovering their prone bodies; at which point, her voice had wavered and she had taken a gulp of wine.
‘My last clear memory was of seeing Edith slump back on her pillows,’ Gulliver had said. ‘I wanted to help her, but I think I passed out. After that, I have vague recollections of you trying to wake me. Then, the fire was there, a wall of heat, it felt as though it was about to consume us before it parted and…’ he had hesitated.
‘The fire changed direction,’ Tabitha had said.
‘Was there a through-draught?’ Molly had asked. ‘Is that why?’
When Tabitha had told her own family what had happened, it had sounded strange enough and they were open to the idea of the feather flame. However, before she could begin to phrase her explanation, Edith had spoken.
‘It wasn’t a through-draught,’ she had said with certainty. ‘Tabitha is our natural-born witch of Boleyn and Carey descent. She used the feather flame magic to save her twin flame – Gulliver – she rescued us all from the fire and the curse. I knew she’d been sent to us for a reason. She came home to protect us, to preserve Cerensthorpe Abbey and to find solace in new love.’
