Page 28 of Hexed Up

“Until tomorrow then, my little minx.” He kisses my forehead and I watch as his cute little arse leaves my apartment.

It would be very easy to sink back down on the sofa in a post-orgasmic haze – I haven’t felt this giddy for years and years and years – but I can already hear my mother’s disappointed voice in my ear because I’ve once again turned up late. I really have to go.

Chapter Ten

One very cold shower, an outfit change and several train journeys later, I’m standing with McGruff outside my parents’ front door, plucking up the courage to knock, because, as predicted, I’m forty-five minutes late and I have one hell of a lecture incoming.

My parents live in a cottage in the middle of a forest just north of Billericay. The wood is enchanted so that no one outside the paranormal community can find it, which is just as well because the cottage looks like every cottage straight out of every fairy tale ever illustrated. It’s squat with a thatched roof, a tall chimney, and roses crawling all over its walls. It was the perfect place to grow up. Me and my two sisters spent most of our days falling out of trees, wading through streams, and gorging ourselves on wild berries. However, it was a shit place to live once I hit puberty because the only male interest in a five-mile radius was an old wolf shifter with a bad case of fleas.

I press my palms to my cheeks, convinced they must still be glowing and are a dead giveaway as to why exactly I am late for dinner, then I take a deep steadying breath in and lift the bat-shaped knocker, hitting it against the old wood.

The door swings back immediately and my mother fills the space, an apron tied around her waist, a collection of bangles jangling on her wrists and an unimpressed expression hovering on her face.

McGruff leaps through the open doorway and straight through my mum’s legs, very nearly knocking her over in the process.

“That dog is a nuisance. And we were meant to start dinner half an hour ago.” She leans forward and kisses the air by my cheek. “You know how hungry your father gets. He’s been gorging himself on crisps and pickled eggs.”

“I’m sorry, problems with the trains,” I mumble.

The good thing about all my family having their transportation licences and never needing to face the perils of public transport is they have no idea how it works and are happy to accept that the entire network is unreliable and dilapidated – which most of the time it is. The bad thing is I am the only one without a licence – even Tiggie got hers two years ago – and so am, without exception, always the one who is late.

“Well, if you’d just try for your licence again,” my mum starts. “Mrs Hilton’s son runs remedial training. Apparently he’s helped the most hopeless cases to pass. I’m sure he could whip you into shape.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say, following her into the cottage. While the outside may look a little run down and on the small side, the inside is large, spacious, modern, and spotless. My mum is a clean freak. In fact, she’s been responsible for devising some of the most effective cleaning spells known to witch folk. She’s even published books, has an Instagram account Tiggie helped her to set up, and quite the cult following.

“Shoes,” she reminds me, and I toe off my boots leaving them on the mat and follow her along the hallway and into the lounge.

“She’s finally here,” she announces to the room like we’re at a state banquet when the only people actually here are Prim, my dad, and my grandma. My dad strides across the room, thrusting a full glass of sherry into my hand and kissing the crown of my head. “Hello, Pumpkin. How are the cupcakes going?”

“Hi, Dad. Erm, all good, thanks,” I lie, taking a long glug of the sherry, before I cross the room and bend down to hug my grandma. McGruff has already made himself comfortable curled up at her feet. “Hi Grandma.” I kiss her powdery cheek and give her a little squeeze.

She doesn’t respond and simply smiles up at me. She hasn’t spoken for over a year now and I’m not sure she recognises me anymore. She’s also the main reason I endure these weekly meals.

Prim has her nose in the laptop resting on her knee and simply waves at me when I greet her too.

“Where’s Tiggie?” I ask.

“Oh,” my mum says with a flick of her hand, “she had something important to do tonight. She couldn’t make it.”

I bite my tongue, resisting the urge to point out that I may also have had something important to do tonight – something tall, muscular, and handsome. But Tiggie has always been my mum’s favourite and somehow wriggles out of things neither me nor Prim ever could. She also gets away with murder. For real. I would not be surprised in the least to find out my younger sister has a body or two buried in the garden. She’s always been a little more interested in the occult side of our magic than the rest of us. In fact, she’s insanely jealous that I’m the one with the demon best friend.

“Dinner will be in ten minutes.” My mum glares at me. “I need to warm everything up again.”

She dashes away in a swirl of perfume and I turn back to the rest of my family.

Grandma is staring vacantly into space, Prim is tapping away furiously on her laptop, and my dad is hovering by the radio listening to what sounds like a football match.

“What you working on?” I ask Prim. She waves her hand in way of reply, eyes not leaving her screen.

I turn to my dad. “Who’s playing?” I ask him.

“Shush,” he says, cranking up the dial.

I roll my eyes. What exactly was the point of me coming tonight?

I sink into the chair next to Grandma, taking her hand in mine and squeezing it as I down the rest of my sherry.

I’d like to tell her about the love potion incident but that’s best done when other members of the family aren’t lurking about. Instead, I tell her about my walk around the Heath this morning, omitting the part where I was accompanied by a very good looking man who has been accidentally enchanted into loving me.