a coat, he rips them off and eats them. He’s putting all this on for your benefit. Look at him – he’s so greedy he’s got a layer of blubber two inches thick to keep him warm.’
Indeed, he was as fat and glossy as a seal, and once the door was shut he stopped shivering and looked perfectly happy to the point of smugness: I’d been had. Story of my life, really.
‘You’d better come through into the sitting room, because I shouldn’t really have animals around the chocolate workshop.’
‘But I’ve obviously interrupted you when you’re busy and that’s the last thing I wanted to do,’ Raffy protested.
‘I’m packing orders, but I’ve almost finished and I’ll be off to the post office with them shortly.’ In fact, another ten minutes, and I would have been on my way when he knocked at the door, so he’d have had to come back later, when Zillah had returned.
He followed me through and Arlo immediately curled up in front of the fire as if he belonged there, though his ears twitched when he heard the crackle of the envelope I handed to Raffy. He probably hoped it was biscuits.
I sat down and watched him open it. I had, of course, prodded and fingered the package and so had a reasonable idea of what it was.
He took out a small, square sachet, looked blankly at it, then passed it to me.
‘A herbal teabag?’
‘I don’t think so. Better read the note,’ I suggested, but from the look of it, it was just as I thought: several ingredients – probably herbs, but possibly something more revolting – had been pulverised and then enfolded in a small square paper packet on which Grumps would have written a spell. Zillah had then sewn it into a covering of white cotton.
‘Your grandfather writes, “I must insist that you carry the enclosed in the pen pocket of your shirt at all times, but especially when you visit Mr Mann-Drake later today.”’ Raffy looked up. ‘He doesn’t say why, and unfortunately, there’s a slight problem.’
‘I know – you don’t wear shirts, with or without pockets, do you?’ I said. He was wearing the black T-shirt with its printed dog collar, black jeans and trainers, and the long leather coat that Jake had so admired when he first saw him. He could have done with another, warmer layer on top of the T-shirt on a day like this.
‘I only wear a real shirt for official occasions, when I have to. The other snag with your grandfather’s gift is that it’s presumably some kind of protection charm, which as a vicar I probably shouldn’t have anything to do with, though it’s a kind thought.’
I went into the kitchen to brew hot chocolate, but it was only two steps away, so I could carry on with the conversation while I made it. ‘Yes, and at least it means he’s got ill-wishing you out of his system, thank goodness, before you got more than a few bruises. I told him not to do it, and it didn’t do his sciatica any good, either.’
‘Ill-wishing me?’ he said, his voice sounding amused. ‘Can you possibly mean…when the angel fell on me?’
‘And when you fell in the trench. Poppy and Felix told me about that. I expect Grumps thinks it was his doing, but it was probably just coincidence.’
‘A series of unfortunate events? But thank you for calling him off, anyway.’
Arlo had heaved himself up and followed me into the kitchen, presumably in the hope of food, but he was so fat he rippled under his velvet coat so I hardened my heart…to the point where I only gave him half a biscuit.
I took the cups of chocolate through and put them down on the brass tray table.
‘I don’t see why you can’t carry the charm, since it’s a goodwill thing, Raffy. It can’t do any harm, can it?’
‘I suppose not. I could pin it inside my coat.’
‘That would be fine, except that you don’t wear it all the time and if you don’t take it off when you visit Mann-Drake he’ll think it odd. I know – you can pin it inside your jeans pocket, only you’ll have to remember to switch it over when you change clothes.’
‘Yes, and try not to blow my nose on it,’ he agreed gravely, though his turquoise eyes gleamed mischievously. ‘And, Chloe, it’s nice to hear you say my name again!’
My newborn state of forgiveness was still such a precarious thing that I wasn’t quite at the stage of replying to that yet, nor did I offer to help him attach the charm, in case I was tempted to ram the pin into a delicate area. I just handed it to him, silently. It would have been a lot easier if he’d taken his jeans off, but I certainly wasn’t going to suggest that, either.
I looked down at his bent head, where the long, black curls had swung forward exposing the strong, pale nape of his neck. His shoulders seemed broader and his back under the T-shirt more muscled than I remembered…
‘I wish you wouldn’t go to see Mann-Drake,’ I said involuntarily.
He straightened and pushed the hair back from his face with both hands in a familiar gesture. ‘Why, you don’t really think he has any magical powers, do you?’
‘No, but I do think he sounds a really horrible man and also terribly persuasive.’
‘I think that probably sums up how I used to be, doesn’t it? So I should be largely impervious,’ he said drily.
‘You were never horrible or evil, just young, hedonistic and totally self-obsessed.’
‘Thank you for that tribute: I feel so much better now,’ he said with un-Christian sarcasm, draining his chocolate and getting up. ‘I’ll be off on my dragon-slaying right away.’
Arlo seemed to want to stay put, which rather spoiled Raffy’s grand exit. In the end, he had to carry him out.
Unsurprisingly, I felt very unsettled after he’d gone, as if all my emotions and ideas were shifting about into new patterns, all on their own. And I was really on edge…
Felix was talking to customers when I passed his shop on the way back from the post office, so I didn’t stop, just went home and typed up Grumps’ latest chapter instead.
After a bit I wandered in to see Zillah, who was back and sitting at the kitchen table riffling the Tarot pack. Cartons of biscuits, catering-sized tins of fruit salad and giant jars of pickles surrounded the urban consumer squirrel. I only hoped I wasn’t getting any of that lot, gift-wrapped, for my birthday – especially the pickled eggs.
‘So, did you give Raffy the charm?’ she asked, looking up.
‘Yes, but wouldn’t he need more than that to protect him when he visited Mann-Drake?’
‘Stop fussing. The cards said he came to no harm, so it worked. Your grandfather, Hebe Winter and Florrie Snowball dreamed that one up between them. It was powerful.’
I felt the tension I’d carried round with me all day evaporate a bit. ‘Maybe God made him invincible and it was nothing to do with the charm?’ I suggested, and she gave me one of her looks.
‘You can ask him tomorrow,’ she said, for there was to be a general meeting of the villagers to discuss the future closure of the tennis court and lido field, and everyone would be there. Sticklepond has never needed much encouragement to party, so following the meeting there would be tea, coffee and a buffet, when everyone could chat.
Zillah’s reassurance still didn’t stop me walking back up the High Street later, on the pretext of giving Felix a jar of my chocolate and ginger spread, pausing at the vicarage gates for long enough to see that Raffy’s small silver car was parked before the door.
Physically, at least, he must still be in one piece, and I hoped for his sake that his immortal soul was still hanging on in there too.
And with a bit of luck, even if Mr Mann-Drake had taken exception to what Raffy had been saying to him, he would be too much