Woodlington

Chapter 15 - An Unexpected Journey

Predictably, going home took quite a bit longer.

Jessie kept them to the edge of the wood, waiting till the caravan was out of sight before striking across a field, joining a hedged track, and finally (after squeezing through the narrowest of gaps) bringing them face to face with the archway leading into the graveyard.

"You must know this place like the back of your hand," marvelled Alex, glad to see something familiar.

"I grew up here remember. Anyway, come on, I've got to get to Peddler's Hill. I need to show Abby and Beth the lighter before Whiskey disappears."

They ran the rest of the way.

Saying she knew a shortcut to the cellars, Jessie left Alex at the front of the house.

Alex watched her out of sight, heavy with apprehension. Back in the wood, Jessie had asked for the lighter and Alex had given it her. Now she almost wished she hadn't. What if she never saw either of them again? The thought, though she knew it was stupid, wouldn't go away.

With a heavy heart, she made for the back door. Rounding the side of the house, she was surprised to discover her mother and Jack on the patio.

"You've been a long time," said Mrs Dowling.

There was the ghost of a smile on her face, and her eyes were twinkling.

"Sorry Mum, got preoccupied."

"You've missed the postman."

Alex stared at her.

"Postman? Bet he loved coming here."

"Well he wasn't exactly thrilled. Anyway, there's some parcels for you. I left them in the small living room."

"For me?"

Alex stared at her in amazement.

"I haven't bought anything."

"Perhaps not, but I have."

She turned to Jack.

"Come on you, show me where these fairies live then."

They started across the patio.

"But –" began Alex.

"In the small living room dear," repeated her mother, not bothering to turn.

Completely bewildered, Alex went to look.

And there they were, at least twelve of them, all shapes and sizes, neatly wrapped in brown paper.

Wondering what it'd be like to have her old boring life back, Alex sat down and dragged the nearest onto her lap. It was large, very heavy, and had her name scrawled across it.

She tore away the paper, and gasped.

In a cardboard box, stacked from smallest to largest, were the potion ingredients she'd taken to the charity shop back in Brenich.

How?

It was impossible!

Placing them reverently aside, she grabbed a second parcel, hoping against hope it contained more of her old stuff.

It did.

Inside were the two robes she'd made a year ago - white for rituals, black for the night-time wanderings she'd wanted to do (though of course she never had).

She placed them beside the ingredients, and with a trembling hand, reached for the next.

By the time she'd finished, Mrs Dowling and Jack had returned. They watched as she dropped the last item, her homemade broomstick, on top of the pile.