Forget Me Knot Read online

  ‘I know all of the reasons why I shouldn’t want to go,’ she went on. ‘It’s Darrell’s venue, so it’s probably just as tacky as he is. Plus, Will hates him. But …’

  ‘But you really, really want to go,’ I said. ‘And you should go. You have the best excuse in the world. You work for Darrell. You could tell Will it’s a condition of your employment that you go.’

  She bit her lip, leaned down to her handbag and pulled out three tickets. ‘Actually, that’s not too far from the truth. Darrell gave me these tickets today. They’re for some pretty decent seats. Although he did say that if I liked, I could have an even better seat.’ She shuddered. ‘A seat in his private box, right next to him. What were his exact words again? Oh yeah. “You can sit up nice and close to me if you come to the box, Melissa, and we can get to know each other a whole lot better.”’

  ‘Ew!’ I joined her in some shuddering. ‘He’s such a creep.’

  ‘He is,’ she agreed. ‘But I think he knows there’s no chance in the world I’ll sit with him, so at least it was nice of him to give me the normal tickets, too.’ She waved them in the air. ‘And three tickets, no less, which seemed ever so kismetty seeing as you, me and Gretel make three. And yes, I know kismetty isn’t a real word.’ She sighed and put them back in her bag. ‘And I also know that you can’t actually go, and neither can I, unless we want to upset Will. But maybe Gretel could take them and go along with someone else?’

  ‘Well, she was thinking of asking Todge,’ I said. ‘But that still leaves one ticket. A ticket that I think might just be destined for you, in some kismetty way. Think of it, Melissa – you, in the audience, right in the eye line of the sexiest singer on the planet …’

  She lifted a brow. ‘You know, when you put it like that …’

  4. The Date of my Dreams

  Melissa pulled out her glamour wands and did a far better job of my hair and make-up than I ever could. With her help, I even managed to squeeze into the dress and to get my breathing back to a somewhat regular pattern. But once I’d accomplished that much, I began to break out in nervous hives. Wonderful. With a dress that showed as much bosom as this one did, hives were not an attractive accessory.

  In an effort to calm myself down, I wandered out to the garden. My dad had headed that way after dinner – to his shed, no doubt – and if anyone could calm me down, it was him. Sure enough, I could see the lights on in his workshed. He was standing at one of the benches by the window, a long piece of wood in one hand, a wand in the other, as he bent his head in concentration and directed the wand in order to carve out the shaft of a broom.

  I smiled contentedly, happy to just watch him through the window for a moment. When I was a little girl, I spent hours in that shed watching him work. When his brooms were ready, he always took me out with him. I would sit behind him and we would fly high above the fields at the back of our house. I’d hold on tight to my dad, feeling safe, and wishing with all my might that I’d be able to fly the way he could when I came into my power.

  Sure, an unempowered witch like me could fly on a wizard broom, but it never quite matched the feeling of being held up in the air by nothing but my dad’s magic.

  If there was another world where Melissa could be with Mack McAdams, I thought with a smile, then maybe in that same world, I did have my power. Maybe other-me was flying a broom crafted by my father, right this very moment, soaring through the air, feeling alive, and not worrying about having to smile and nod at a stupid exclusive screening.

  Oh dear – I could feel another hive come out to say hello. My walk wasn’t calming me down quite as much as I would have liked, was it?

  My dad gave me a little wave through his shed window, and I was just about to head in there to say hi when a flash of movement caught my eye. There was something just beyond the shed, and a little to the right – something golden, furry, and a couple of feet tall.

  The odds were that it was just a wild animal, but something churned in my belly. It was the same kind of queasiness that I’d felt when I heard the crash in the kitchen of Three Witches Brew. And because following that gut instinct had led to me seeing my first dead body, I knew that the wise thing to do would be to ignore this latest urge.

  And yet … unwise or not, I hitched up my dress and walked around to the back of my dad’s shed, made my way through a particularly dense patch of forget-me-nots, and then headed into the forested area beyond.

  A dog walked ahead of me, a golden retriever with its tail high but not wagging, its gait slow but steady. It looked over its shoulder and kept walking, finally pausing by an oak tree.

  The animal’s mouth was opening and closing, and I shook my head, unable to shake off the impression that it was trying to talk to me.

  Familiars could technically talk to an unempowered witch – or even a human if they so chose – but it was hardly something they did on a regular basis. I rolled my eyes. ‘What makes me so sure you’re a familiar anyway?’ I said aloud. ‘Why did I jump to that ridiculous conclusion? I mean, you’re just a lost dog. Right?’

  The dog shook its head. It opened and closed its mouth again, as though it were once more trying to talk. And then a cry of, ‘Hey Wanda!’ met my ears. It was Will, calling for me. I glanced back at the dog, about to say … well, I’m not sure what I was about to say. It didn’t really matter, seeing as it had turned tail and scarpered deeper into the forest.

  ≈

  As the crowd spilled back out onto the red carpet, Will paused so that our photo could be taken, again, and again … As the latest in a long line of photographers said, ‘Smile!’ I felt like my jaw might begin to crack.

  I’d been expecting a little bit of media attention, but not quite this much. Turns out, when the Minister for Magical Law gets engaged to an unempowered witch, people are strangely fascinated. I could see that some of the cast of Witch Wars were even unhappier about the situation than I was.

  Would it be really bad of me to send a little of the attention their way? I happened to know that the guy who played Nular the Necromancer had been found with an enormous stash of Up. It was a perfectly legal potion, one that gave men some extra (ahem) stamina. But even though it was legal, there weren’t many who admitted to using it. I had the feeling that if I let that little secret slip round about now, no one would be interested in my engagement ring.

  ‘You all right, Wanda?’ questioned Will. ‘You have a slightly wistful expression on your face.’

  ‘Well, that’s because I was imagining scenarios where I wasn’t going to be on the front page of every newspaper and magazine tomorrow morning,’ I admitted. ‘Melissa’s glamour spells are great where hair and make-up are concerned, but even she couldn’t make me look quite as svelte as the other ladies on this stupid red carpet.’

  Will bent down and kissed my cheek, taking a moment to whisper in my ear. ‘Don’t worry Wanda,’ he said. ‘You’ll look amazing in every single photo. You’re the most beautiful woman here tonight.’

  ‘Sure I am,’ I said with a sceptical grin.

  To my right, Veronica Berry, a member of Will’s coven and the star of Witch Wars, was posing next to her rock star husband, Bryce Blue. He played lead guitar for the Call of the Wild, which made him even more famous than his wife. I wondered just how out of line it would be to ask him to set his band mate up with Melissa. Hmm. Bryce had seemed lovely during the one, five-second conversation I’d had with him, but Melissa might just cast a Shut-Your-Mouth spell my way.

  ‘You look stunning, Veronica!’ called out one of the photographers. ‘You’re the most beautiful woman on the red carpet tonight.’

  I quirked a brow at Will. He laughed and said, ‘He’s obviously got bad eyesight.’

  I could see the valet bringing Will’s broom forward. He was only about five feet away from us. Less than a second’s walk, and I would be away from this whole nightmare for good – well, until the next nightmarish date Will took me on, at least.

  We began to walk toward
s the broom, when a woman called out, ‘Got a second for the hottest channel in town?’

  I clenched my jaw. It was Priya, a presenter on the Magic Music channel. But don’t let the name fool you. There was only about one percent music aired on the channel, while the rest of the air time was taken up with reality TV and celebrity gossip.

  ‘Wow,’ said Priya, nodding to my ring. ‘That’s some rock, Wanda. So when’s the wedding?’

  Will squeezed my hand. ‘We haven’t set a date yet.’

  Priya turned abruptly from me and gave Will a flirtatious smile. ‘That’s very sensible, Minister. Why wouldn’t you keep your options open when every woman in the world wants your bod?’

  Priya’s eyes flicked back to me. ‘It must be all your dreams come true, Wanda,’ she said with a smirk. ‘I mean, Will is the sort of guy that an average-looking girl like you could normally only fantasise about, isn’t he? And yet here you are.’

  ‘Mm hmm,’ I replied through a clenched jaw. ‘Here I am.’

  ‘You like your women curvy then!’ cried out Ted Shiftless, the latest presenter of Wyrd News in the Afternoon. ‘Man after my own heart.’ The presenter gave me a wink. ‘Better to have something to grab onto, isn’t it?’

  Will’s jaw tensed. ‘Remind me of your name again,’ he said, pulling out a small notebook. ‘Ted Shiftless, isn’t it? Yes, that’s right. I believe I saw your name on a memorandum just today, in fact.’ Will narrowed his eyes. ‘I wasn’t going to interfere with the hiring and firing on the Wyrd News channel, but I might just have to reconsider that.’

  The presenter moved away, red-faced, while even Priya’s smirk had disappeared. ‘Don’t listen to Ted, Wanda. You’re lovely just the way you are,’ she said (insincerely, of course).

  Will rubbed my lower back and kissed my cheek once more. ‘Glad you think so, Priya. I happen to think that I’m the luckiest man in the world,’ he said. ‘And now, if you’ll all excuse me, I’m going to take my beautiful fiancée for a slap-up meal.’

  ‘I’ve already had my dinner,’ I whispered.

  He squeezed my waist. ‘I know you did. But I also know that you always get hungry when you’re irritated. And if ever there was an irritating and poorly planned date, this was it.’ He took my face in his hands and tilted my head up. ‘How about next time, you choose where we go?’

  I grinned at him. ‘You’re on. There’ll be a dress code though – loose clothing required – because of all the pizza and beer and other sophisticated foodstuffs we’ll be enjoying.’

  Chuckling, he helped me onto the back of his broom (dresses like this were not designed for flying), and as I sat behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, I felt a burst of love in my chest. True, nights out with him weren’t quite the comfy one-on-ones that I wished they could be, but he sure did know how to cheer me up.

  ≈

  We did have a slap-up meal, but thankfully we had it in one of Will’s houses instead of a restaurant. Yes, I did say one of his houses. We were in his mansion in Riddler’s Cove, the place closest to my own house. Even though the mansion was enormous – more of a super-mansion than just any old mansion – he managed to make the dining room seem intimate, lighting a lovely fire in the hearth and serving up a tasty casserole. Sure, it was my second casserole of the night, but it would have been impolite of me to turn it down.

  ‘This is what I tried to make you for our first date, only I burned it,’ he said with a sheepish grin. ‘I’ve been trying to improve my cooking. Trying to improve everything about me, in fact. So I can be the sort of husband you deserve.’

  I felt my face redden. If he didn’t stop being so nice, I might just fall in love with him all over again.

  Through the rest of the meal he was just as sweet, and when the end of the night came, he flew me home on his broom.

  ‘Y’know,’ I said as we stood by my garden gate. ‘My parents aren’t exactly old-fashioned. And I am twenty-two. I don’t think they’d be too put out if we went back to yours and I stayed the night.’

  He bit his lower lip, making a little groan in the back of his throat. ‘Wanda, do you know how much I love it when you say things like that? It makes me believe you’ll always love me as much as you did at the beginning.’

  I frowned. ‘Why would you even worry about that, dummy?’

  He cleared his throat. ‘I mean … I don’t. I guess what I mean is that I appreciate the fact that you still love me after everything that’s happened. Some guys take girls for granted once they’ve got a ring on their finger. But not me.’ He pulled me closer. ‘I know we don’t have a date set just yet, but I would like to make it soon. A couple of months, rather than a couple of years. And also … well, I’d like to wait until then, if that’s okay with you. Because …’ He paused. ‘I’d never want to take advantage of you, Wanda. I want to know you chose me. Really chose me. And when you jump that broom with me, I’ll know that you did.’

  I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him softly. As I pulled away, I tilted my head to the side, examining his face – or, more specifically, his dimples (they were ever-so-dimply dimples, even when his smile was small). ‘You’re weirdly old-school, Minister Berry. But that’s all right with me. I’ll last until our wedding night, I think.’ I gave him another little kiss. ‘And by the way, tonight wasn’t all that bad. Once we were alone, it started to shape up into the date of my dreams.’

  His gaze became incredibly intense, and his pupils grew large. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Because it was the date of my dreams, too, Wanda. And just so you know, I’m going to kiss you now. Properly kiss you. Deep and meaningful kiss you. The kind of kiss we haven’t had in quite a while. Are you ready for that?’

  I rolled my eyes and slapped him lightly on his chest. ‘Idiot,’ I said. ‘We have that kind of kiss at the end of every single date. But even so … lay another one on me, Berry. I think I can just about put up with one more.’

  As he bent down to me, I saw a nervousness in his eyes. Considering his tongue had been rammed down my throat every day for as long as I could remember, those nerves were surprising. But oddly, the closer he drew to me, I began to feel nervous too.

  Maybe, I thought, as his lips met mine, it was pre-wedding jitters. Yes, I decided as the kiss deepened. That was definitely it. Because every kiss I could remember had been passionate, and amazing, and had made my whole body go wild. But this kiss … I fought back the urge to shiver and pull away … this kiss left me a little bit cold.

  5. A Familiar Arrival

  Later that night, as I lay in my bed and cuddled my plush-toy bat (yes, I’m ever so grown-up) I resisted the urge to once again spill my guts to Dizzy. Even if he was a real familiar instead of just a toy, what would he say? He’d just tell me what I already knew – that tonight’s kiss had been just the same as every kiss. That I’d only imagined it was different because I was suffering from an acute case of cold feet. It was natural to be nervous about getting married. It didn’t mean that I didn’t want to be Will’s wife. He was Mister Perfect, after all. The man of my dreams.

  Just as I was closing my eyes, I heard a strange noise. Like … a whimper? And because I hadn’t grown up much since the preceding paragraph, I looked at the bat and said, ‘Did you hear that?’

  The bat might not have replied, but the whimpering turned up a notch, and I climbed out of bed and wandered to my window, pushing it open and looking out. The garden was in darkness, but there was a flash of colour close to the back door. My eyes widened. It was the golden retriever I’d seen just before my date.

  I pulled on my robe and shoved my feet into my slippers, and then I bounded down the stairs. The house was sleeping, making its usual creaks and moans. As I eased open the back door, I heard my father make a particularly loud snore, before his nocturnal noises returned to normal.

  I felt a wave of disappointment. I didn’t want to wake everyone just because there was a dog in the garden, but maybe I ought to. This was a house filled to the rafters with powerf
ul witches. Witches who could communicate with this dog a whole lot better than I could. Witches who might be sensible enough to ask me why any of this mattered.

  I was just a below-par Peacemaker. I couldn’t even stun someone without the help of my truncheon. My only big achievement was somehow managing to make the most eligible bachelor in supernatural Ireland fall for me.

  Even though I knew all of that, I was feeling a delusional certainty that this dog was here to see me, and me alone – particularly seeing as it looked like the same dog which had led me on a walk through the woods earlier that evening. Yes, I really should call one of my coven to come down and help me – even if the only help they could offer was to shake me by the shoulders and tell me to cop on to myself.

  But somehow, despite the many inner voices telling me to opt for a more sensible solution, I found myself opening the back door and hissing, ‘Doggie!’ into the night air. ‘Doggie, are you looking for me?’

  As the dog padded around the side of the house and looked at me, a flurry of excitement rushed through my body, and I felt like I might actually be able to manage this on my own.

  He blinked his eyes and cocked his head to the side. ‘You look stressed, Wanda. Perhaps before we go any further, you’d like to talk about what’s causing these feelings of stress.’

  I goggled. And then I gaped. And then I goggled some more. ‘Why are you talking to me? Why … why am I hearing you? You know I’m unempowered, right?’

  His head remained cocked to one side. ‘You seem awfully surprised about this, which is quite concerning, I must admit. After all, it’s really not that unusual for a magical animal to communicate with an unempowered witch, is it? Fine, it’s hardly an everyday occurrence, but it does happen. It just takes a bit of effort on both sides. Do you have some sort of inferiority complex, Wanda? Because if you do, we most definitely have to deal with that along with your stress. We can hardly make much leeway otherwise, now can we?’