Mallory nodded and got up, putting her coat on; they’d been in the coffee shop for twenty minutes at most, and that included Mallory being late.
‘Cool. Sorry, I’ve got to run.’ Mallory picked up her umbrella.
‘What do you do, again?’ Faye asked. All of Rav’s friends worked in the music business in some way, but she couldn’t remember knowing what Mallory did.
‘Music PR. Mostly modern acoustic folk acts, singer-songwriter vocalists, that kind of thing. I get to be artificially cheerful and upbeat all day long.’ Mallory flashed Faye an intentionally false shark-like smile. ‘Like this. Okay Faye, take care, speak soon, yeah?’
Without waiting for any kind of response, Mallory left, swishing her way through the café again. Faye watched her go, feeling ill at ease.
27
The party was being held in what had been a warehouse in the once-poor docklands area of East London, now a haven for banks, luxury apartments and exclusive bars. Faye imagined that it would be bustling and vibrant in the summer, but in November, the concrete walkways and steps were slicked black with rain, and the glass skyscrapers only reflected the depths of the charcoal night onto the flat River Thames that lay alongside them.
Rav helped her out of the taxi. Faye had chosen a full-length evening dress as Rav had assured her it was a dressy affair; he was handsome in a black dinner jacket and sharp white shirt underneath. Faye’s dress was black also: an off-the-shoulder gown that clung to her breasts and hips, skimming over her flat stomach. The silk folds of the skirt had pooled around her feet until she’d put her heels on at the flat. Now, as she picked her way carefully over wet cobbles to the door, she wondered how she was going to stand on the vertiginous heels all night. They were celebrating the success of some album or another that Rav’s company had been doing the promotion for; it had just gone over a million sold worldwide.
Faye followed Rav into the shady interior of the converted warehouse, giving her coat to a young man in a small cloakroom as they entered. She ran a hand nervously over her hair, which she’d braided around her head like a Greek goddess. Its auburn had become a little lighter in the summer, and it still had dark blonde flecks among the reddish brown. She wore a pair of earrings that Rav had given her: long droplets of rose quartz set in gold.
‘Wow. You really look beautiful tonight,’ Rav murmured, and kissed her. Faye leaned into him. She could never resist that murmuring tone of voice, the way his eyes met hers like there was no one else around.
‘Thank you.’ Faye kissed him back and expected him to pull away, mindful of the people ahead of them and behind them. But Rav encircled her with his arms and pulled her in for a deep, passionate kiss, and Faye submitted to it, feeling her body become soft and responsive to his touch. Rav’s hands caressed her back.
‘Mmmm. Do we have to go in?’ he whispered into her ear.
She laughed quietly, prodding him in his side.
‘I think you’d be missed,’ she replied, smiling.
Rav led her to a table at the centre of the room where she recognised Sumi and Rav’s business partner, Roni. Sumi wore a short, low-cut, shocking pink cocktail dress that displayed all her curves with pride and glowed against her light brown skin; Roni, heavily bearded, wore a safari suit with a loud orange-and-green Hawaiian shirt underneath and a black bolo tie.
‘Faye! So good to see you again!’ Sumi cried, enveloping Faye in a fierce hug, even though her head only came up to Faye’s shoulder with heels on. ‘Wow. You lookstunning! Roni.Roni!Doesn’t Faye look stunning?’ She nudged her husband who smiled broadly.
‘Faye, you look stunning, I don’t know if anyone’s told you,’ Roni admitted with a grin.
‘Good to see you dressed up, man.’ Rav clapped Roni on the back. ‘Feel like I overdid it with the dinner jacket now,’ he added sarcastically.
‘Dude. Safari never goes out of style.’ Roni handed them a flute of champagne each and held his up for a toast. ‘To Malik & Marquez, Impresarios of the Great and Good.’
Rav clinked his glass against Faye’s and held her gaze as he drank.
‘To us,’ he added. Faye smiled and sipped her champagne. Theycouldbe happy, she told herself. It was all there for the taking.
‘So, how’s all the magic going, sweets? I still need you to read my cards.’ Faye hadn’t seen Sumi since that first time at the bar, but if Sumi still thought Faye was a bad influence on Rav, she wasn’t showing it. It was a party; she was being polite.
‘Oh, whenever you like,’ Faye replied, knowing it would never happen.
‘What about your shop? Is someone running it for you, now you’re not there?’ Sumi asked, apparently concerned, though Faye thought she could detect another message.Why don’t you go back there and run it and leave him alone?‘From what Rav said, I doubt you’d want to be away from it for long?’
Faye smiled with a brightness she didn’t feel.
‘It’s fine. I’ve closed it temporarily. We’ll see, I guess,’ she replied, and took a longer drink from her champagne glass. Mistress of Magic was who she was. Her mother had worked hard to build the shop as part of the pagan community in Scotland, and within the village, too. She’d run evening healing circles, taught spell-casting, read fortunes and made herbal salves and draughts for the villagers. Leaving the shop empty was taking a toll on business, but it was also breaking down allthe good work Moddie had done for all those years. She was considering going back for at least a couple of weeks to check in and make sure everything was okay.
Mistress of Magic was Faye’s home, just like it had been home to all the Morgans before her. The house itself – its thick stone walls, the worn flagstones of the shop floor that had once been where the family gathered around the hearth – was part of her. She drew her strength from Abercolme – from Black Sands Beach, from the sea and the sand and the rough scrubland around the shore – but most of all, the stone house and its little garden, packed with roses and herbs, were her mainstay. As she stood in the crowd, in the hubbub of people talking and laughing, Faye suddenly felt terribly alone and lost, untethered from where she should be. Nausea roiled in her stomach, and she set down her champagne glass on a nearby table. It was nerves. She knew what Rav’s friends thought of her. It was uncomfortable being there.
The dinner passed without any further difficulty. Faye sat between Rav and Roni who, together, were a double act, entertaining everyone else at the table. Rav played the straight man to Roni’s surreal, deadpan humour.
‘Oh, it’s Mallory! Hi, sweetie. You look gorge.’ They had finished their main courses, and people were starting to mill around between tables as the desserts arrived. Sumi stood up to kiss Mallory. Instinctively, Faye looked at Rav to gauge his reaction, but he only glanced at Mallory, meeting Faye’s eyes instead.
‘Did I tell you how glad I was that you two met for that coffee?’ he said, reaching for Faye’s hand. ‘You’ll be okay if I have to do the friendly boss bit for a while? Got to go and say hi to everyone.’
