Woodlington

Chapter 18 - The Ghost

Alex was following Gypsy up A second flight of stairs, when she suddenly remembered they were in a cottage. How on earth could she be climbing stairs?

Jessie's answer was simple.

"Glamour."

"Glamour?"

"Yeah, it's a form of magic that lets you change the appearance of things. Everyone does it."

"Okay, but what's the point?"

"It's easy, that's all. I mean, what would you rather look at: a lovely old witch-cottage, or a big ugly building? It's a no brainer."

"So, the houses on Peddlers Hill..."

"Yup, all glamour."

"Weird. How do you even know what's real?"

Climbing the last of the steps, Jessie shrugged. "Who cares? There's a spell for it, but I never bother. Makes life more interesting."

She clapped her hands twice, and brightness flared around them.

"Anyway, this is my room."

"Cool," said Alex, breaking into a smile. She turned on the spot, taking it all in.

It was pure Jessie.

"I love it."

"Yeah, me too. Bit messy I'm afraid. I'd make up some excuse, but what's the point? It'll just be the same next time."

She laughed.

"Abby despairs."

Alex hadn't even noticed the mess. She was too busy taking in the multitude of targets covered in green splodges.

"No wonder you're so good," she grinned, nodding at them.

Jessie shrugged.

"Gotta do something when you're bored."

Except for a large circle of wall, the targets were everywhere. Alex, accompanied by Gypsy, made for the circle, where mounted on a pair of fancy antlers, was Jessie's broomstick.

"It's a beauty," she muttered, running her fingers over the smooth handle.

"Did you make it yourself?"

"Course."

"What from?"

"The usual," smiled Jessie. "Willow for the bindings, silver birch for the tail, and ash for the handle. Mr Wilson helped me. He's got a little workshop in his garden."

"Can you buy these?" asked Alex, thinking of her own back at Willows End, which next to Jessie's looked like a joke.

"Yeah, but hardly anyone does. They're like wands, better to make them yourself. It creates a deeper connection."

Within minutes, Alex felt completely at home.

Jeissie's room was everything she loved and more. Though there were no end of magical items dotted around, it was the slingshot on the chest of drawers, the pocketknife on the floor, and the torch by the side of her bed that told the real story of who her friend was.

Thankfully, Jessie's bed was large enough for all three of them.

Surrounding it were dozens of makeshift posters - potion recipes, incantations, and astrological charts. They were way beyond anything Alex had ever seen before.

"Do these make sense to you?"

"Pretty much. I go to sleep looking at them. It's a lot easier than studying."