Page 14 of The Snow Witch

She hoped they’d find a new subject to talk about soon.

An image of Charles Milburn flashed in her mind and Meggie felt that hatred for him again. She didn’t trust him one bit; she hadn’t liked the mocking tone in his voice when he’d called her the Snow Witch earlier. Yet he paid her well for her services. She had no way of refusing Charles Milburn’s demands. How could she? So long as Charles’ reputation remained unsullied, everyone was happy.

But he would get his comeuppance. The Universe would make sure of that, Meggie was under no illusions. She prayed for it every night and every day, and would pray again at the Well today. She did not care how many lifetimes it would take, but she would make sure he paid for his arrogance and selfishness somehow.

‘Blessed Coventina and the Water Nymphs – forgive me. I know what I do is wrong. Yet I have no choice,’ she whispered, thinking of the unborn babies’ souls she had taken.

Another image of Charles Milburn slipped into her mind, and she quickly blotted it out as she peered into the Well, fascinated as always by the shapes and pictures she saw in it. Sometimes, the reflections of the clouds would swirl past; sometimes, she would see birds in flight: an upside-down world. Sometimes, she would see a face just like hers looking back at her, but she felt it was not her, not really.

She wondered if it was Coventina herself.

9

NOW

Jake dropped Violet back at the guest house after a quick cup of tea. Violet had, ludicrously, found it all a bit awkward. It wasn’t Jake’s fault; he was perfectly kind and nice as he always was. But she was just on edge. She was holding on to too much of a secret, what with her pregnancy and all that entailed, and she hated herself for it. But she worried, perhaps ridiculously, that if she spent too much time with him in his cosy van, she’d say something, and she wasn’t ready to yet.

And the van was where it had all happened, really.

It had been a total accident – a nasty tummy bug after Jake’s office Christmas party. Too much to drink, and too little thought to the fact that they needed to take extra precautions. Her Pill would have been completely ineffective, and she never considered doing anything about it.

Then there’d been one, special, magical night on the Scottish coast, watching the Northern Lights in the camper van. It had been the Winter Solstice, and it had been beautiful.

Even afterwards, she could have gone for the morning-after pill – but she didn’t.

And then it was too late.

And then it was February. And she had to start thinking about it. Start taking it seriously.

Which is why she’d come here.

And here, also, was Jake.

He’d thrown her by turning up at that exact moment and hauling her to safety – she was grateful for it, of course she was. And she did want him to be near her. She absolutely did not want to be without him. But getting pregnant had kind of put a spanner in the works; especially as she knew children had not been on the agenda in his failed marriage.

Couple that by imagining what might have happened if he hadn’t have turned up when he did – and the fact she’d seen that dagger – and it had her jumpy as hell. She was pleased to be back at the guest house.

‘Oh. That’s my itinerary,’ Jake said now, handing her a scrap of paper after he’d parked. She shook her head and laughed, despite herself, as she took it. Jake did not do itineraries. She’d seen him scrawl it down on the back of a receipt while she’d been washing the mugs up. ‘So if you do want to get together, well,’ he shrugged, ‘it would be great. If not. No worries.’ He flashed a grin. ‘I’ll see you at home anyway.’

‘Thank you.’ She lifted the scrap of paper up and couldn’t resist a smile. ‘I shall study this and see if it matches my itinerary.’

‘Because of course, you have a proper one.’ Jake sat back in the driver’s seat. ‘I’m flexible though, just so you know.’

‘Yes. I know.’ Violet hesitated, then leant over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. ‘Thanks for saving me from a watery grave.’

‘You’re welcome.’

She waved at him as he turned the van around and drove it out of the car park, the wheels crunching on the snow.

God, it was cold.

She walked inside, grateful for the heat, already shedding her coat as she headed up the stairs to her room.

She changed out of her wet clothing and pulled on a soft pair of leggings and a long, baggy jumper. Bliss. She hung the damp clothes over the radiators to dry off and made herself a hot chocolate from the sachets Cynthia had kindly provided in the room. Then Violet did a little work on her book, losing herself in the socio-political world of the seventeenth century. And, when it was dinnertime, she closed her laptop, stretched out her back and headed downstairs.

She wondered what Jake was doing this evening. Maybe, if their itineraries correlated, she could have dinner with him one night. Maybe not breakfast. She pulled a face at that thought. She wasn’t ready for that quite yet.

As she entered the dining room, she saw Ollie – the chap from this morning. He looked pretty jittery and not like someone who had found their country pile. Poor chap.