‘The power’s gone at the cottage: the road’s half-flooded already. Lisa’s doing her best to stay positive, which mostly involves lighting scented candles and asking when the Wi-Fi will come back on.’
Beth gave a small, tight smile. ‘She sounds helpful.’ She didn’t particularly want to know about Lisa and what her appearance in Cranley meant.
Kieran laughed, rubbing his face dry. ‘That’s one word for it.’
Moments later half the village arrived, in a wave of dripping coats and loud complaints.
‘Jeez Louise!’ shouted Janette, dragging Alison and Hector behind her. ‘The forecast said rain, no’ Armageddon!’
Beth snapped into action, making toasted sandwiches and heating up soup, while Kieran helped Ed fetch towels from upstairs. The wind howled and the lights flickered on and off.
As Beth worked, she heard a familiar voice whisper in her ear.
‘You said no miracles,’ Gigi purred, ‘but someone needs a hero. A small nudge of fate, perhaps. Something impressive. Something—’Beth burst into the basement just as he started to hum. ‘Don’t eventhinkabout it!’ she snapped, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘You’ll make it worse.’
Gigi pouted, his eyes glowing like twin marbles. ‘You underestimate my prowess.’
‘No magic, Gigi. Promise me.’ Beth felt scared – by the storm, and also the inner tempest created by Kieran’s presence.
Gigi sighed. ‘Fine. But you’ll regret it when you think about how much fun I could add to the mix.’
Beth gave him a warning look and went back upstairs.
The pub had become a storm shelter. Locals huddled as Ed and Angela placed candles as a precaution on the tables and Rose scurried around with toasties and soup.
‘Beth, we’re out of clean bowls! Can you?—’
‘On it,’ she said, rolling up her sleeves.
Through the front windows, the world was a blur of silver rain and floating debris. She tried not to think about Kieran, who was helping a group of villagers move furniture away from the door, his soaked shirt clinging to his back. Every time she looked at him, something in her chest tightened.
And then Lisa swept in, wearing pastel leggings and an enormous hessian poncho, holding a yoga mat above her head like a useless umbrella. ‘Kieran!’ she wailed. ‘The cottage smellsdamp!’
‘That’s because itis,’ he said, laughing.
‘I can’tbreathein there, it’s so … moist! Do you know what humidity does to my skin?’
Beth bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.
Lisa spotted her. ‘Oh, hello,’ she said with the fake friendliness of someone remembering a name from the wrong conversation. ‘Still cooking, I see.’
‘Still raining,’ Beth said evenly.
Kieran looked as if he wanted to sink through the floor.
Beth went back to the kitchen, pretending not to care. She ladled soup into bowls and told herself she was absolutely, definitely not listening for the sound of Lisa’s laugh. That the storm didn’t reflect her inner turmoil. That her emotions bore no resemblance to the tempest raging outside.
But Gigi, of course,waslistening.
In the basement, the genie flicked through the noise of the pub like someone tuning an old radio. He heard Lisa’s voice and scowled.
‘This one’s trouble,’ he said to himself. ‘My Beth deserves better. Time to have a little fun.’
He snapped his fingers. A faint shimmer of light rippled up the stairs.
In the main room, Lisa shrieked. ‘Myhair! It’s gone frizzy!’
The villagers turned. Her sleek ponytail had exploded into a bouffant halo of manic curls.
