While I took Meri around and showed her the few changes we’d made since she’d been there, and she ran her small hands over some of the new crochet cottons including a pretty shade of pale pink, I said, “Why don’t you crochet yourself a sweater while you’re here?” I smiled at her. “You still get the employee discount. That’s as immortal as you are.”
She giggled behind her hand. “I would like to make something pretty. I am as yet unaccustomed to your shops. It is much easier for me to craft my own garments.” She sighed. “I will make something pretty to wear to your wedding.”
I loved this plan. We pulled out some magazines and chose a pretty, lacy, short-sleeved sweater that I thought would look gorgeous on her. I told her I’d take her shopping before the wedding and choose a skirt to go with it. While we were doing this, Mom and Violet were chatting away like the best of friends. Okay, they were related, but our two families had not been close until recently. I was suspicious about what they had to talk about with such animation.
When I got back over to them, Mom said, “Violet and I have put our heads together about your hen party. You’ll have to excuse Violet. I’m sneaking her away for a little while.”
I raised my eyebrows and tried to skewer my wayward assistant with my coldest glance. She was impervious.
“I’ll take an early lunch,” Violet said.
“It’s eleven o’clock,” I protested.
“Oh nonsense, Vi,” my mother said. “Lucy can do without you for the rest of the day. Besides, I’m sure Meri would love to catch up with Lucy, and she can assist in the shop if it gets busy.” And wasn’t that nice of my mother to take charge of my shop, my staffing, and drag Violet out to plan a hen party that I did not want. My day was turning out really well.
On the plus side, Meri was a pleasure to be around, and instead of constantly sniping at me, turned to me as though I had all the answers in the universe. It made for a refreshing change.
She said, “I am very happy to help in your beautiful shop. I have missed you and Cardinal Woolsey’s.”
It was so nice to have her back. “We’ve missed you. But I bet it’s nice to be home.”
“It is. Everything is so much more familiar to me in Egypt. Especially when I am unearthing those I have known in life.”
I couldn’t imagine. That must be weird. I said, “Don’t worry about helping. Go sit in the visitor’s chair and start on your sweater. If it gets busy, I’ll call you.”
She looked shocked. “I cannot sit at my leisure while you work. You make light of saving me from the prison in which I was trapped for two thousand years, but I am forever grateful. Please, you sit and let me work.”
Well, this was never going to happen. For one thing, I couldn’t crochet a sweater. I supposed I could make a start though. I said, “I tell you what. I’ll bring another chair out, and we’ll sit together. Maybe I’ll make myself a sweater. Could you help me if I get stuck with the crochet?”
“It would be my pleasure.” And so the two of us sat working away. The thing with crochet is at least there’s only one hook and not two needles. And you can do things like squares and pieces that you sew together later. I know you can do that with knitting, too, but it seems more common with crochet. Anyway, I decided that I would crochet myself one of those pretty, short-sleeved sweaters in mint green. If Meri and I wore them together and stood side by side, no doubt we’d look like a couple of Easter eggs, but I couldn’t imagine that would happen very often, if at all. And imagine Rafe’s surprise when I showed up wearing a sweater that I’d actually made myself.
We worked away happily, and when a customer came in, either I would serve them or Meri would. It didn’t seem to matter. It was a sunny day in Oxford, and everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Violet not being here was like a black cloud had wafted out the door.
No sooner had I had that thought than a very different and frankly darker black cloud wafted in the door. I felt a slight chill and looked up to find Margaret Twigg standing staring at the two of us crocheting away as though we were two kids skipping school and she was our strict teacher. But then, she always had that effect on me.
From her basket in the window, Nyx stood on all fours, arched her back and hissed. She was not fond of Margaret Twigg.
I put down my crochet and stood up. “Margaret, what are you doing here?” If I’d had more time to think, I would have said, “What a pleasure to see you,” even though it wasn’t. I was even annoyed at myself that I’d stood up. I should have remained sitting. It was my shop, after all. But, somehow, Margaret Twigg intimidated me so much that I’d rather stand up so at least we were somewhat on the same level.
As far as I knew, Margaret Twigg did not knit, so by process of elimination she was here on witch business.
“I haven’t seen you since Beltane,” she said. I could still recall the ceremony and the fires as we witches welcomed spring.
“I’ve had a lot going on. Like planning a wedding.”
She said, “I’ve come to talk to you about officiating at your wedding. Do you want a proper, traditional Wiccan ceremony?”
I felt as though my ears
