Julia Williams

Midsummer Magic


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       For Dot with love and gratitude

       ‘You want to know how it’s done? I can’t tell you that. Shh, or you’ll spoil the magic.’

      Freddie Puck: The Art of Illusion

      Table of Contents

       Title Page

       Dedication

       Epigraph

      Prologue

      1982: Tatiana

      Halloween

      Part One: There May I Marry Thee

       Chapter Six

       1986: Tatiana

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       1988: Tatiana

       Part Two: Ill Met by Moonlight

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       1992: Bron

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       1995: Bron

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       1998: Bron

       Part Three: The Course of True Love

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Chapter Twenty-One

       2002: Tatiana

       Chapter Twenty-Two

       Chapter Twenty-Three

       Chapter Twenty-Four

       2007: Tatiana

       Chapter Twenty-Five

       Chapter Twenty-Six

       Chapter Twenty-Seven

       2012: Tatiana

       Part Four: And All is Mended

       Chapter Twenty-Eight

       Chapter Twenty-Nine

       Chapter Thirty

       Now: Bron

       Chapter Thirty-One

       Chapter Thirty-Two

       Chapter Thirty-Three

       Now: Bron

       Chapter Thirty-Four

       Chapter Thirty-Five

      Chapter Thirty-Six

      Now: Bron and Tatiana

      Epilogue: Three years later

      Acknowledgements

      Afterword

       About the Author

       By the same author

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

       Prologue

       ‘Thou speakest aright:

       I am that merry wanderer of the night.

       I jest to Oberon and make him smile’

      A Midsummer Night’s Dream: Act II, Scene 1

      ‘“Lord what fools these mortals be …” You could say that’s my mantra. It’s easy to hypnotise the gullible, but I’ve managed to hypnotise sceptics too. I like to think Shakespeare knew a thing or two about hypnotism.’

      Freddie Puck interviewed in The Sun, June 1982

       1982: Tatiana

      ‘You’re late,’ Freddie Puck was standing languidly by the stage door, as Tatiana came flying down the street straight from dinner with her agent, Susan Peasebottom, where she’d both eaten and drunk more then she should have. He was smoking a cigarette, and as usual, looked calm and in control. She hated the way he always did that; she always felt ill at ease around Freddie, as if he knew a secret about her that she did not. But then that was part of what he did, play mind games on people to screw them up.

      ‘You’re lucky I’m here at all,’ she muttered. After the offer Susan had put to her this evening, she had been very tempted not to turn up.

      Freddie looked her up and down quizzically – honestly, sometimes she felt like she was just a lump of meat to him.

      ‘You done something to your hair?’

      Tatiana blushed. She wasn’t sure about her new haircut, a drastic departure from the Farrah look she’d been sporting for the last couple of years. Her hairdresser, Julie, had produced an article from an American mag which pronounced that long flickbacks were out, short was in, and hair for some reason should be red. So Tatiana had been persuaded to have it dyed, trimmed and hacked, so now she had a longish piece at the back, but the hair at the top was cut short and swept back in waves – or it had done when she’d come out of the salon this afternoon. After a couple of hours in a smoky dive with Susan Peasebottom, followed by an undignified race up the road, Tatiana felt sure her hair wasn’t quite the crowning glory the article had promised.

      ‘Yes,’ she mumbled, almost wishing he hadn’t noticed.

      ‘Nice,’ said Freddie, nonchalantly flicking out his ash as she walked past him into the theatre, and as usual she had no way of knowing whether he really meant it, or whether he was just kidding her.

      ‘Tati, darling, love the hair!’ Damn. Bron came out of his dressing room (it still irked her that he had his own dressing room, while she had to share) and gave her a hug. ‘How was dinner?’

      ‘Great,’