said that at least we could all now see that he was no threat to the community in comparison to Mann-Drake.’
‘No, I’m sure he’s not.’
She frowned in an effort of recollection. ‘He said something else, about how later religious practices were like lichen growing on an old tree, feeding off the vital sap and obscuring the essential truth, though not completely hiding its shape…or something.’
‘That sounds like Grumps,’ I agreed. ‘I think it’s just his twisty way of saying live and let live.’
‘Yes, he did say that in some cases the two could become interdependent, so he meant well. Raffy told him he couldn’t agree with that viewpoint, but he looked forward to discussing it at more length some time.’
‘What did Grumps say to that?’
‘Only that he looked forward to that too.’
‘Oh? He must have been in a surprisingly mellow and amenable frame of mind!’
‘He advised us all to buy witch charms from Mrs Snowball and put them over our doors, just like yours,’ she told me. ‘Do you think that’s a good idea?’
‘It certainly can’t hurt. Was that the end of the meeting?’
Poppy gave one of her infectious giggles. ‘Yes, except that Mr Lyon suddenly said that he had been considering something the vicar had said to him about joining in with village life and had decided to join the Elizabethan Re-enactment Society! He’s going to become John Dee to Miss Winter’s Virgin Queen.’
‘Good heavens – did he? How did they take that?’
‘They were initially stunned.’
‘So am I!’
‘Yes, but once that wore off, I think Miss Winter was quite pleased, really.’
Our usual threesome met at the Falling Star a couple of days later, all sulks forgotten, and Mrs Snowball, who was minding the bar in the snug until Molly arrived, told us that she’d done such a roaring trade in her witch bottles since the last Parish Council meeting, that she’d had to order a fresh consignment of empty ones.
‘Though they’re not the same as the old. It takes some of the mystery out of it when the glass is thin enough to guess what’s in there, though they’ll work just as well. But the old Bellarmine pottery ones were the best.’
‘Yes, Grumps has got one of those in the museum. I remember it in the catalogue.’
We’d tried to get in our drinks order quickly, before she had a chance to switch the coffee machine on, but she insisted on giving us cappuccinos on the house, ‘seeing as I’m raking in the money for me charms!’ And she cackled like an old hen.
‘You can rake in some more, because I need two extra bottles,’ Poppy told her.
‘Ah, but I’ve put me prices up!’ she said cunningly.
‘Couldn’t I have a discount for bulk?’ wheedled Poppy. ‘These will make five I’ve had.’
‘I suppose I could let you have them at the old price, seeing as you’re a good customer at the Star.’
‘Thanks, Mrs S! I need to protect the stable yard next, you see: I can’t have the horses exposed to anything nasty going around, can I?’
‘You make Mann-Drake sound like a contagion,’ Felix said.
When Molly came in Mrs Snowball disappeared, only to return a little while later bearing two of the original thick, greenish bottles, which she handed to Poppy after wiping the dust off with a corner of her flowered pinny.
‘Here you are, from the last of the old stock I laid in years ago. I found a box right at the back of the cellar that got overlooked behind a pile of broken crates.’
Poppy paid for them, then immediately gave one of the bottles to Felix. ‘This is a gift, but you have to promise me to put it over your shop door. In fact, I’ll come back with you and make sure you do!’
‘Poppy, you shouldn’t waste your money like that,’ he protested. ‘Mann-Drake’s already been in my shop and of course nothing dire happened, so I really think it’s—’
‘Oh, stop being so macho,’ she said. ‘Better to be safe than sorry, don’t you think, Chloe?’
‘If Grumps says it’s a good idea, then it probably is,’ I agreed. ‘You don’t lose anything by having one, do you, Felix?’
‘Except for a possible new customer,’ he grumbled. ‘But, OK, since you both seem determined on it, I’ll move some of the books from the shelf over the door and put it there.’
‘You’d better attach the bottle to the shelf too,’ I suggested, ‘or some over-curious customer might try and lift it down, or knock it off.’
‘Good idea,’ Poppy agreed.
In Mrs Snowball’s absence Molly had let us have beer and then later, when Felix went back to the bar to fetch crisps and Poppy was in the loo, I seized the moment and quickly whipped out the little bottle of love potion. I managed to get a drop or two in each glass before they came back, though the creamy tops acquired a faintly oily iridescence. It seemed a harsh way to treat best bitter, but it must have tasted all right because they drank it down without a murmur (or any noticeable effects whatsoever).
Then we all went back to Marked Pages and Felix cleared a space on the shelf over the door. Despite his protests, I firmly removed the toolbox from his grip and, standing on a chair, screwed an eyelet into the back of the shelf, wired round the bottle and attached it.
‘There! It won’t fall down, no one can pick it up, and the light-fingered will need a screwdriver or wire cutters if they want to nick it.’
‘They’d probably be cursed if they did,’ Poppy said with a giggle. ‘Well, I’d better get off home now, because Mum’s gone to Hot Rocks on the pull with Mags, and I don’t like leaving the horses unchecked for too long.’
‘Yes, I’d better go too, though Jake doesn’t exactly need my company these days, now he’s got Kat!’
‘They are sweet together,’ Poppy said soppily.
‘You incurable romantic!’ Felix smiled at her and their gazes seemed to meet and lock for a long moment…But then they both blinked dazedly and looked away and the moment – if there was one – was broken.
Maybe I imagined it?
The following Tuesday Grumps went to his first Re-enactment Society meeting and Jake and Kat offered to drop him at the village hall on their way to have dinner with her parents. Having initially been alarmed by the first sight of Jake (not to mention his relationship to Grumps, when they got to know about it) they had now done a complete about-face and seemed to be trying to adopt him. Any mother of a teenage son would understand exactly how I felt about having someone else shoulder part of my food bills – deeply grateful.
‘OK, and I’ll come and fetch you later, Grumps, if you ring me,’ I told him.
Luckily his eccentric taste in clothes meant he hadn’t had far to look among his collection of garments to find something suitable for the role of John Dee – an embroidered, tasselled cap and a long, velvet robe fitted the bill quite nicely. He was a natural for the role.
Before they left I checked him over, a bit like an anxious parent whose child is off on a first date, making sure he had my phone number and a little money. ‘You may have to use the public phone at the back of the village hall and also there’s probably a kitty for refreshments,’ I explained.
‘Dear me, yes,’ he said, ‘I seem to have got out of the habit of social engagements, but I am sure it will do me good to get out into the world occasionally.’
I’m not sure the Sticklepond Re-enactment Society counts