H activates the speakerphone when I walk into the kitchen. “Alright, missies. All ‘ere on tha call. Over ta Nat fer an update.”
“Good news, ladies. I’ve uncovered a clue to our magical problems.”
“At the Arboretum?” asks Kate.
“What were you doing at the Arboretum?” interrupts Mathilde.
Maybe I’d better back up a step. I bring Mathilde up to speed on my late-night musings and subsequent trip to our southern border.
“I’m loathe to say it, but H had a great point, drunk or sober.”
“Yer welcome, Tildy. Anytime, Tildy. Nay need ta thank me, Tildy.” H’s sarcastic tone overwhelms the phone line.
I give him a pat on the head, stopping myself when he winces. “All right, H. We all owe you some cheddar. Now back to my findings. Kate, I found the yellow trail and followed it down to its southernmost point. It juts up against the edge of a lovely meadow that’s home to a flock of sheep. Very talkative sheep, I might add. They hadn’t been out to graze for too many weeks, but they were pleased as plum to explore the far side of the Arboretum walls.”
Kate laughs at the thought of it. “I can’t imagine what kinds of conversations sheep have with one another. But the better question is, why were you able to talk to them?”
“Their story wasn’t dissimilar to H’s. One day they were a pair of Eternals, the next they were staring out at the world through sheep's eyes. I chatted with them long enough to find out that the magic is leaking straight down past the county line. There are now Eternal sheep sunning themselves in Berkshire.”
H and I sit in silence as we wait for Kate and Mathilde to respond. When a minute ticks by with no answer, I double check that the line hasn’t dropped.
“Hello? Mathilde? Kate? Are you still there?”
“I’m still here, I’m trying to wrap my head around your last statement,” clarifies Mathilde. “I’m positive that the magical field should not be reaching that far south, but I have no idea why it would be, or what we can do to fix it.”
“On the bright side,” Kate chimes in, “At least now we know that the magic isn’t disappearing.”
“No, but it is moving.” I interject. “Iffley College sits at the northern-most point of the magical boundary, right?”
“Ya, that’s tha top,” confirms H.
“Ok, after Iffley, the next college moving south is St Margaret. While we still have access to the magic here, it isn’t working as it should. On the other end of the boundary, the Arboretum, the magic is reaching well beyond what we’d expect.”
H looks thoughtful, but Kate speaks up first. “I see where you’re going with this, Nat, and I think we can narrow our search into two areas, both having to do with the boundary. Either someone has stolen or damaged the artefacts at Iffley and St Margaret or someone has stretched the boundary on the other side of town. If they haven’t extended the magical boundaries properly, they could cause damage at the top end without even realising it.”
“What do we do next, Kate?” I ask.
“Let’s start with the simplest possibility first. It’s my turn to pay a visit to Iffley. As the Museum Curator, I’m best placed to identify if an artefact is damaged or missing.”
With a new plan in place, we wrap up the call, promising to regroup soon.
❖
After we hang up, I find my trusty post-it note underneath the last shopping bag. “H, I’m going back out front to rinse off my new wellies. Can you make sure the front door doesn’t lock behind me?”
He nods his head and goes back to enjoying the plate of Lincolnshire poacher I set out for him.
I find a hose hanging on the side of the building and unwind it until it reaches the front garden. Turning my back to the road, I aim the spout so that any run-off will go into watering the front flower beds. No point wasting the water. My mind wanders off, replaying the events of the last twenty-four hours.
The sound of a male throat clearing cuts through my daze, causing me to swing around in surprise. Completely forgetting about the hose in my hand, I take a second to realise I’m drenching Edward’s shoes in a spray of cold water.
“Oh, my goodness! Sorry, I didn’t hear you coming. You startled me.” I drop the hose, causing it to arc off the ground, covering both myself and Edward in another jet of water. Edward takes pity on me, walking around to turn off the water before I can do any further damage.
Wiping water from his trousers, Edward arches an eyebrow in my direction. “Must our every encounter result in a scene, Miss Payne?”
Water drips from my hair and my shirt, raining onto the surrounding ground. “If anything, Edward Thomas, I’d say that I came out worse in this battle. I am sorry I sprayed you with the hose. I didn’t notice you driving into the carpark.”
Edward has the good grace to blush. “I didn’t drive, I was returning from a walk in Port Meadow. I should have realised you couldn’t hear my footsteps over the water hose.”
Edward and I stare at one another, the moment stretching into uncomfortable lengths as we each wait for the other to make the next move.
Finally, he clears his throat, succumbing to the awkward silence. “I’ve spent the day at the police station comparing notes with the investigative team. They’ve had the initial evidence analysis reports back, and the mud found on the doormat did not come from the college grounds.”
Staring down at the mud around my feet, I wonder how they could tell. “Did the report suggest where it might have come
