Page 71 of A Witch in Notting Hill

“My point exactly.”

“I’m going to stretch my legs. I’ll be back when it’s time for the ritual.”

“How will you know?”

“I can hear twice as well now, remember? And you’re the only people in the whole park. I’ll know.” And with that, she scampered off beyond the tree line, leaving me alone in the cool quiet of the morning.

While it might have been nice to have been alone for a moment, I needed the distraction of Vera more than anything else. This felt like part of the quest I could have done without the others, and the more I thought about it, the more nervous I was for them to show up. Did they really need to watch me take a freezing swim in a tiny bikini?

Maybe they’d occupy themselves with something else until I was done. Like Vera. Or like a sunrise walk in the park.

Either way, as I stood there looking at my reflection in the darkness of the water, I realized how much I’d changed.

Not a stitch of makeup, natural hair tumbling down my shoulders, unassuming black puffer coat. I could have been anybody. And it feltgood.

For a second, it felt like that anybody could have been someone who lived here. Away from the hustle of Hollywood, away from the never-ending social calendar and the constant demands and the toxicity of the industry. Someone who took morning swims in the Heath, who wandered the streets of Notting Hill in the fall, who had friends and plans and a life. A normal life.

Someone who had a relationship.

The kind that worked. The real kind.

My reverie was cut short by the sound of voices, familiar voices, cutting through the silence. Light bickering, low laughter, chattering teeth.

“Willow, is that you?” Lola whispered as they rounded a corner, squinting her eyes and leaning in a little.

“No, it’s another insane person getting ready for a freezing cold swim at the crack of dawn. Of course it’s me.” The other two came into view, as did Vera, and I held my breath.

“Holy shit.” Lola jumped when she clocked Vera at her feet. “Is that a black cat? That’s bad luck, isn’t it?”

“It’s not bad luck,” I said. “It’s just... Vera.”

“Vera?”

“My manager. The one who . . . uh . . . used to be a person.”

Silence. Wide-eyed looks. Raised eyebrows. More silence.

“Someone please say something before I jump into the water and never come out,” I said, but immediately changed my mind. “You know what, actually, nobody say anything at all. Just pretend she isn’t here.” Vera shot me a look I chose to ignore. “It’s fine, just... forget I said anything.”

“No, no,” Min said, finally springing to life. “It’s, er, it’s nice to meet you, Vera.” He looked down at her, and she looked up at him, both of them wearing matching bewildered expressions. Oliver cleared his throat, and I tried to ignore that, too.

“Does she speak?” Lola asked, cocking her head to the side.

“I . . . uh . . . I’m the only one who can understand her,” I said.

“Bummer,” Lola said. “She’s gorgeous, by the way.”

If cats could blush.

I looked up at Oliver, watching as he kicked a pebble into the pond and followed its path with his gaze, looking anywhere but at the scene unfolding in front of him. Another reminder he’d never believe in any of this, which should have been reason enough to stay away. But when he pushed a stray curl behind his ear and finally turned to face me, I forgot every reason entirely.

“What d’you say, Willow? Time for a ritual?”

To say the water was cold would be an understatement. To say it was freezing, even, wouldn’t cut it. To say it felt like a million tiny knives cutting into my skin and stealing every ounce of air from my lungs... that was more like it.

“I can’t do this,” I said, stepping back up on the ladder and pulling my body out. “I can’t. It’s too cold.”

“Isn’t everyone in LA doing a cold plunge right now?” Lola asked. “I just watched a TikTok about it.”