Belle Book and Christmas Candle Page 2

  'Come on! The car's just outside and I might get a ticket. It's strictly a dropping off point. No waiting.'

  I tutted. Trust Star. She was a law unto herself when it came to parking. Some things never changed. For a brief moment, I found the thought oddly comforting.

  We called our thanks to the lady behind the counter and headed out of the café into the cold station. Few people were around now, trains not running particularly frequently from Castle Clair. Star linked her free arm in mine as she dragged the suitcase behind her, chattering cheerfully about how busy the shop had been during the summer, and how the museum was doing so well, and how the castle's takings had been up dramatically this year which was all very encouraging.

  I was almost beginning to relax until we stopped outside Star's faithful Mini and I saw, through the window, a pair of green eyes watching me with some suspicion. Drat!

  'What's he doing here?'

  Star looked surprised. 'What do you mean? He goes everywhere with me. You know that.' She shoved the suitcase in the boot then opened the passenger door, while I stepped back nervously.

  'Paypacket, darling, look who's here!'

  Paypacket's ears twitched and he stared at me. It was hardly a warm welcome. He waited a moment, stretched, then shifted on the seat, washing his paws while watching me with an insolent expression.

  'Oh, dear.' Star sighed. 'Paypacket, can you go in the back, so Sky can sit in the front with me?'

  Paypacket ignored her and Star gave me an apologetic look. 'I'm so sorry. Do you mind sitting in the back? Paypacket likes to see where he's going.'

  'You've got to be kidding me!' Even as I said it, I knew she was deadly serious. That damned Egyptian Mau cat was her world, and she would do anything for him. Even spend her entire week's wages to buy him, which was why he was called Paypacket in the first place.

  She'd only just left school and had gone to work in Mum's shop, earning a low wage at the time. She'd planned to do all sorts with that first week's earnings, but then she'd spotted a postcard in the window of the post office, advertising one single, solitary kitten for sale. She hadn't even been looking for a cat. We already had one — Celeste's orange and black striped Toyger, Spirit. Yet, for some reason, Star had insisted on going to see the kitten and had come back an hour later carrying a tiny silver creature that she'd adored from the first.

  Spirit wasn't too bad. She tended to stick to Celeste and went to work at the museum with her, but Paypacket had been a pain in the butt from the off. He seemed to dislike me for some reason, even though Star assured me I was imagining things. I wasn't imagining anything. He gave me the most disdainful looks and was always where I wanted to be.

  It was pretty unnerving as he grew, too. He looked remarkably like a miniature snow leopard and, what with Spirit being a dead ringer for a small tiger, it was like living in a lilliputian zoo.

  'Okay,' I said, knowing I was beaten. 'I'll sit in the back.'

  'Oh, you're so good,' Star said, sounding relieved.

  Scowling, I slumped onto the back seat and slammed the door shut behind me. As Star fastened her seatbelt, I shot a look of venom at the front seat as I distinctly heard a very smug-sounding Paypacket purring.

  Chapter Two

  We drove along Station Road, then turned onto High Street. Between the rows of shops, I caught glimpses of the market square behind. It was a pretty square, surrounded on all sides by ancient buildings dating from Georgian times or even earlier, now all converted into quirky and original shops. No chain stores here. Independent businesses thrived in Castle Clair. Sometimes it seemed the odder they were the better. The Broom Closet, for example, was always busy, yet it sold magical supplies, of all things. Our family business. What a legacy — not!

  Leaving High Street behind, we turned down Grace Street and I pulled a face as we passed The Two Brothers Inn. They were to blame for all of this — the infamous St Clair brothers. Our notorious ancestors. Although, to be fair, I doubted very much that they'd have recognised themselves from the ridiculous and highly unlikely legends that had sprung up around them.

  Halfway down Grace Street I saw ahead of us an ancient pub, The Holly King, which sat at the foot of Blaise Bridge. We turned right, before the bridge, into Riverside Walk, which was only open for access. This long and narrow street was probably the most scenic in the whole of Castle Clair, and spanned the full length of the town centre, running alongside the River Hrafn, beneath the viaduct, and as far as Bevil Bridge and another pub, The Oak King.

  The road that crossed Bevil Bridge was the way out of Castle Clair and the town boundary was just over a mile from The Oak King. Basically, the two bridges — named after the two St Clair brothers — more-or-less marked the boundaries of the town centre, encircling Castle Clair in the legend. Our family legend. The bane of my life.

  I tried to forget all that stupid stuff as we drove slowly down Riverside Walk. There were new buildings, I realised. A development of modern apartments now stood on what had once been grassland.

  'Sign of the times,' Star said. 'You can't fight progress — at least, most of the time. And, to be fair, we needed new homes in the town. These are affordable for local families, which is a bonus. Not like that posh estate that went up five years ago, just past Bevil Bridge. Golly, there are some big, grand houses there, but they're so expensive! Goodness knows who's buying them. Businessmen, no doubt.' She said it as if it were a dirty word. No wonder the family fortune had dwindled over the years. 'Although,' she added, her voice softening, 'I should think that not everyone there is in business. And I'm sure good people own some of them, too.'

  'You can't judge people by how expensive their house is! We own a castle, for goodness' sake! Anyway at least the Telfers are still here,' I observed, smiling as we passed a little cottage with a paddock to the side containing a rickety-looking pigsty and several large pigs. 'It wouldn't be the same without them.'

  'They've been taking orders for Christmas,' she replied. 'I've got a ham and a piece of pork on order. Celeste was furious with me, but I told her, she can keep her mushroom roulade, or whatever, all to herself and the best of luck to her.'

  Poor Celeste. It must have been terribly awkward for such a committed vegetarian to share a home with omnivores. I admired my sister's principles, but I could never give up a bacon sandwich.

  The road narrowed suddenly. The buildings ended, and I could see the river to my left. As the car entered the gorge, I risked a glance up at the cliff top on my right and shivered. There it was. A little shrine gouged into the cliff side. Witch's Leap. How I hated that place.

  'Does it still affect you?' Star sounded wary. I looked up, to see her watching me through the rear-view mirror. 'You never liked this part of the lane, did you?'

  'It's that,' I said, nodding in the direction of the shrine without looking at it. 'It gives me the creeps.'

  She sighed. 'It's okay to feel like that, you know. It's only natural, given what happened there.'

  'Nothing happened there,' I snapped. 'It's a stupid story, invented to bring in the tourists. How many more times do we have to have this discussion?'

  'I'm not going to argue,' she said calmly. 'You must come to the truth in your own good time. And you will.'

  Oh, for God's sake! I bit my lip, determined not to rise to the bait. Star wasn't deliberately trying to goad me, I knew that. She genuinely, one hundred per cent believed the legend. She was far from being on her own there. My whole family was convinced it was true, as were many of the town's residents — not to mention a high percentage of the annual number of tourists who flocked to Castle Clair to see the place where Bevil and Blaise St Clair had lived and died, back in the seventeenth century.

  The St Clair brothers had been the sons of a wealthy landowner, Sir Rafe St Clair. When he died, Clair Castle had passed to his eldest son, Blaise, who had taken his younger brother, Bevil, under his wing and seen to it that he was well-educated and cared for.

  Blaise had become betrothed to the beautiful Jennet and they were reputedly very much in love. Bevil, however, had apparently fallen in love with Jennet and wanted her for himself.

  Both St Clair brothers were magnificent witches, and their jealous arguments over Jennet resulted in fierce magical battles. The townspeople had, apparently, always known about the family's powers and had tolerated them, as the St Clairs were benevolent land owners and their tenants felt protected and secure under their leadership. As the war between the brothers escalated, though, panic set in, and the activities at Castle Clair began to be noticed further afield, leading to an investigation.

  To save his own neck, Bevil informed the authorities that his brother was a witch who consorted with demons, and the hunt went up for Blaise. As the witch hunt grew close, Blaise leapt from the cliff into the river, but his body was never found. Several of his loyal servants were arrested, put on trial, and reputedly confessed to aiding their master in his demonic rituals. Most were hanged.

  Bevil, meanwhile, eventually married Jennet and the two had a son — from whom we were descended. Bevil's triumph didn't last long as he fell from his horse while out riding, just months after his marriage, snapping his neck in the process. Jennet, it seemed, lived a long and happy life at the castle as a widow, and I should think that if any of that ridiculous tale were true, she'd have been jolly glad to be rid of the pair of them.

  Witch's Leap was the spot where Blaise was supposed to have leapt into the river, never to be seen again. I'd never understood why it scared me so much. I didn't believe a word of the legend, yet I felt cold and sick every time I passed the place and avoided it at all costs, as much as I could. Weirdly, it was now a tourist attraction in its own right. People happily sauntered up Riverside Walk to gaze up at the gabled building that
jutted from the cliff side, protecting an elaborate carving of the St Clair coat of arms and a plaque that hung beneath explaining the grisly fate of the witch in question. There was a path cut into the cliff side and you could follow it up to what had become a shrine to the elder St Clair brother. In the summer, it was common to see a long queue, snaking up the cliff path to pay homage. Visitors actually left flowers there, believe it or not. It was scary how gullible some people were.

  'Here we are,' Star said cheerily.

  I blinked, realising that we were now at the point of the lane that widened out considerably. Ahead of us I could see the viaduct, the boathouse, the little cafés and shops — most of which would be shut for the winter season. To my left was the row of small, stone cottages that included our home. On my right, grander houses straggled the hillside, their steep gardens neat and tidy, despite the fact that they must've been a nightmare to tend.

  Star parked the car in the allotted space at the side of the end cottage and jumped out, hurrying to the boot to collect my suitcase. I climbed out of the car and stretched, looking ahead of me towards the viaduct. To the right I could just about make out the steps that were cut into the cliff, so that people who were far fitter than I was could climb up to the castle and the town without having to go all the way around. I used to do that, many years ago, but I doubted I'd have the energy now. Since my Zumba classes had ground to an unexpected halt I'd barely done any exercise at all. Maybe I should make the climb up to the town a daily routine — build up my fitness again. I could certainly use some fresh air and it would give me time and space to plan my future.

  'Paypacket, you'll have to move now unless you want me to lock you in and leave you,' Star told the cat sternly. He glared at her for a moment then, with one graceful leap, he was on the ground, his expression clearly showing what he thought of her for turfing him out of his comfy seat.

  Star unlocked the front door and waved me in, and I entered Lily Cottage for the first time in over three years. It was even smaller than I remembered it, and its ceilings seemed lower. But the warmth from the open fire wrapped itself around me most comfortingly, and the smell of something cooking hung in the air reminding me of the cake Celeste had made me. My nose twitched in appreciation. Star trundled the suitcase into the narrow hall and said, 'Go through. You don't have to stand on ceremony here.'

  I pushed open the kitchen door and stepped in, smiling. 'You've painted it!'

  'I got sick of the white walls,' she said. 'Do you like it?'

  'I do,' I told her, meaning it. The red walls were infinitely preferable, contrasting nicely with the oak beams and the cream gloss units, and giving the kitchen a cosy, warm feeling. 'And a new fitted kitchen?'

  'Oh no,' she said, hurrying to the sink to fill the kettle. 'Just new doors. We saw no reason to replace the whole thing, but we felt it needed a change. I hope you don't mind.'

  'Why would I mind?' I said.

  'Well, this is as much your cottage as ours,' she reminded me. 'Celeste did say we ought to run it past you first, but you know how excited I get about things. I'd ordered everything before I'd even paused for breath. Celeste was annoyed with me, but I knew you'd understand. You do understand, don't you?'

  I smiled at her as she gave me a pleading look. 'It's no big deal, honestly. You were living here, I wasn't. And anyway, it looks brilliant. You've improved it no end.'

  'Oh, I'm so glad.' Star flicked the switch on the kettle. 'Now, tea or coffee?'

  'Shouldn't you be getting back to the shop?' I said, glancing at my watch. 'You've already been gone for over half an hour. Time's money you know.'

  'Oh, it's fine. I've got the rest of the afternoon off. Mrs Greenwood's minding the place for me.'

  'Mrs Greenwood?' I frowned. 'Shouldn't she be at the café?'

  Mrs Greenwood ran the Rosemary Tea Rooms above The Broom Closet and stayed open even during the depths of winter. Unlike the riverside cafés, the Rosemary Tea Rooms were as popular with locals as with tourists, partly due to the location in the oldest building in the Market Place, and partly due to Mrs Greenwood's spectacular cooking.

  'She's left it in the hands of her staff,' Star said. 'I told her there was no need, what with there only being two of them, and fairly new at the job, but she insisted. She said it was a big event, welcoming my baby sister home after all this time, and that I should make the most of it. She's such a darling.'

  I'd always liked Mrs Greenwood, I had to admit. She was a bit vague and dithery but had a heart of gold. 'How's Benedict, by the way?' I said, leaning on the worktop and looking out of the window at the small, neat garden that reached all the way to the river's edge. 'Still teaching at Hengate High?'

  Star's expression altered. Her eyes dulled, and she turned away from me, reaching for the teapot. 'Tea, I think,' she said. 'You don't take sugar, do you?'

  'No, I don't,' I said. 'What's with the evasion tactics?'

  'I'm sure I don't know what you mean.'

  'I'm sure you do. Star, what's wrong with Benedict?'

  Star spun round to face me, a wide smile on her face that didn't fool me for a second. 'Oh, I meant to tell you about that. He's moved away. He lives in Sussex now, can you believe? Got an amazing job as head of the science department and he's really happy.'

  'Moved away?' I couldn't believe it. 'But you are still together?' They had to be. Star and Benedict went together like bread and butter, coffee and cream, me and cake.

  'Well, actually, no we're not.' She shrugged. 'Would you like to try Celeste's cake? I think it's in that top cupboard.'

  'Never mind the cake,' I said, words I never thought I'd utter unless under pain of death. 'What happened between you and Benedict? You've been together for — well, forever.'

  She rolled her eyes. 'Five years! I know. Isn't it silly? We drifted apart, simple as that. It's perfectly all right. I'm fine about it. It's poor Mrs Greenwood I feel for. She must miss him terribly.'

  Mrs Greenwood was Benedict's grandmother and had raised him alone after his mother had abandoned him. No one even remembered his father. Benedict adored her, and the fact that he was willing to leave her in Castle Clair while he swanned off to Sussex was little short of shocking.

  It was almost as shocking as him leaving Star, whom he'd loved since they were primary school age. He hadn't been able to believe his luck when she started going out with him five years ago. Why would he leave her now? Star couldn't be all right about this, she just couldn't.

  'I can assure you I am,' she said when I voiced my doubts. 'He's been gone six months, anyway, so if it hurt at the time, I'm long past that now.' She reached up into the cupboard and brought out a cake tin. 'It's Victoria sponge,' she informed me, prising off the lid and wafting the tin under my nose, giving me a tantalising glimpse of what lay inside. 'Welcome home, Sky. I'm so, so happy you're back.'

  ****

  Within a couple of hours, I'd had cake, three cups of tea, unpacked my clothes, and admired my bedroom which, as Star had said, she'd made welcoming for me with pretty new bedding, fresh flowers in a jug on the windowsill, and a scented candle burning on my dressing table.

  It freaked me out when I saw that, and I couldn't help but lecture her. Star was terribly cavalier when it came to candles, and I was always telling her that it was dangerous to leave them burning unattended, but she never listened. It was the same with the open fire, which she never banked down before going out. She seemed to have absolute blind faith that they would be safe and nothing I said made any difference.

  When I lived with her before I'd had lots of arguments about the issue with her and usually ended up appealing to Celeste. Celeste, however, had never seemed overly concerned, which was unusual for her because she was an orderly, serious sort of person, and risk-taking wasn't her thing.

  Needless to say, I blew out the candle before heading back downstairs, where Star and I sat in the armchairs either side of the fireplace, watching the flames flickering in the grate — while Paypacket hogged the sofa, I might add — and making small talk about my doomed job in Connlea.