You wouldn’t think a woman who insisted on dressing in Victorian garb, including a very restrictive corset, had enough breath to talk as much as Silence Buggins did. You’d be wrong.

  I could barely open my mouth to tell her and the rest of them that I hadn’t done anything when she launched into an extremely boring story about when she herself had worked in a button shop.

  “I was hexed once,” Sylvia interrupted in her theatrical way, tilting her chin up in a pugnacious manner.

  “No,” Gran said looking shocked. “Who would hex you?”

  Sylvia’s lips went rigid before she relaxed them enough to speak. “I rarely mention her name. She’s dead to me.”

  “We wouldn’t know her anyway,” I said. “She’s probably dead to all of us.”

  Her eyes flashed, and then she remembered that she was still groveling, so she merely said, “Nevertheless, I was hexed by a jealous rival. She harmed my career and stole roles that should have been mine.”

  She looked around the room. “Swedes. I never trust them.”

  A Swedish actress had hexed her? Maybe I was no expert on the silent film era, but I’d known Sylvia long enough to hazard a guess.

  “Are you saying Greta Garbo hexed you?”

  Her eyes flashed once more. “I never mention that name.”

  I’d heard of professional egos, but this was ridiculous. “Greta Garbo was the most famous silent screen actress in the world.”

  She looked coldly furious. “Exactly. And how do you think she got those roles that made her famous? It should have been me. It would have been me, if she hadn’t hexed me.”

  I suspected that the so-called hex was nothing more than greater talent, maybe some luck, but I didn’t want to push my luck with Sylvia. Not when we weren’t exactly getting along.

  There was silence, and then Gran, who was trying to heal the breach, said, “Do you know how Lucy might be able to break the hex?”

  “If I knew how to break a hex, my dear, it would be my face you’d see when you watched Grand Hotel.” And with that, she sat down and picked up her knitting.

  There was a pause. “Perhaps I could investigate,” Theodore said. He’d been listening intently. “If Lucy doesn’t know who’s angry with her, how will she know who’s cursed her?”

  This was true. “It’s very nice of you, Theodore, but I really don’t think the hex is directed at me. I don’t have any enemies.”

  They all turned instinctively to look at Sylvia. In spite of what I’d said, I glanced her way, too. As though aware of the attention, she looked up, and her eyes flashed with fury.

  “I would never stoop so low. How dare you.”

  “No, no. No one thinks it’s you,” Theodore said, not helping at all.

  Rafe spoke into the strained atmosphere. “Lucy wondered if it might be a rival knitting shop owner. Her newsletter and digital marketing seem to be having some effect in bringing knitters in from other areas.”

  “It’s possible, I suppose,” Gran said. “I’m very proud of you, my love. You’ve really taken our little knitting shop into the modern age.”

  Her flattery warmed me. I wanted my grandmother to be proud of me. And I wanted Cardinal Woolsey’s to do well, for her sake as well as mine. But not if it meant getting cursed.

  “I don’t know.”

  Gran said, “You must ask Margaret Twigg.”

  “I don’t want to. Anyway, how do we know it wasn’t she who made it?”

  “She may well have made it. It’s who I’d go to if I wanted to put a hex on someone. Maybe she’ll tell you who bought it.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, it’s not like she can do anything worse to you. You’ve already been cursed.” Then she thought for a second and said, “But just in case, take Violet with you.”

  Chapter 9

  The next morning, Violet arrived with a Band-Aid across her chin.

  “Cut yourself shaving?” I asked.

  “Oh, very funny. No. I’ve got the most horrid pimple.”

  “That sucks. Don’t you have a potion for breakouts?”

  “I’ve tried everything. Nothing works. I think my grandmother’s got something. I thought I’d go around tonight and get her to take care of it for me.”

  “That’s a good idea.” I really hoped Great Aunt Lavinia had a cure. That spot was getting larger, and redder, by the minute.

  She came towards me, but the sewer smell of her breath preceded her. I blinked. What had she been eating?

  I set her to work in the back room again packing up orders. I couldn’t tell her that her breath was eye-wateringly foul. But I couldn’t keep her busy in the back room all day either. Then I had a brainwave. I’d buy a couple of muffins from the Miss Watts’ tea shop next door. I’d put a little spell on one of them to sweeten her breath.

  So I ran next door and picked out two bran muffins and brought them back with two cups of coffee. We did treat ourselves sometimes to food and drinks from next door, so it wasn’t out of character.

  I took her coffee and muffin into the back room, having imbued it with the best I could do for a breath-cleansing spell. She might smell a bit powerfully of mint for a day or two, but surely that was better than smelling like an outhouse that’s been in the sun for too long.

  “Lovely. I didn’t have time for breakfast this morning. How clever of you to know.” Even those few words had me stepping back and trying to hold my breath until I was out of range.

  “I’ll have mine at the cash desk. Just in case someone comes in.”

  And please let that spell work quickly.

  I’d barely taken my first sip of coffee when I heard a scream from the back room. And then a muffled curse.

  “What is it?”

  “What was in that muffin? I’ve broken a tooth.”

  “What?”

  The Miss Watts were in their eighties, but they were excellent cooks. Had they accidently dropped something in the batter?

  I went to the back, and sure enough, there was a muffin with a bite through it and a shocked-looking Violet holding her front tooth in her hand.

  “Oh my gosh. This is terrible.”

  “It’s my front tooth!” she said, sounding kind of muffled because of the missing front tooth. “See if you can put it back for me.”

  I didn’t think she was suggesting glue. She wanted a spell. The breath-cleansing one hadn’t worked, or perhaps she hadn’t eaten enough of the muffin. I nodded, centered myself, which wasn’t easy, as I was nervous and also had half an ear out for the front door.

  “Quickly,” my cousin said, making me instantly more nervous.

  I had talents and some skill. It was a matter of focus and intention, I reminded myself. Focus and intention. No time for candles and a magic circle that always brought calm and focus. Nyx had refused to come downstairs this morning, even though the skull was gone, so I wouldn’t have my familiar’s help. On the plus side, Violet could blend her power with mine so we’d be like a super witch. And hopefully magic superglue.

  “Hold the tooth where it belongs,” I instructed her. She did and then I breathed in and out slowly, picturing her smiling a perfect, fully toothed smile.

  I felt my body growing warmer and my fingers began to tingle. In my limited experiences, spells mainly helped a witch to focus. I managed an impromptu rhyme:

  Spirits of the east, west, north and south,

  Repair this broken tooth within Violet’s mouth.

  Knit the pieces tight, her perfect smile to see.

  So I will, so mote it be.

  When I opened my eyes, Vi gingerly took her hand away from her mouth, then carefully smiled. The tooth looked as good as new. Just as I was feeling pretty good about myself, however, it fell off again, bouncing off her lower lip. She only just caught the tooth before it fell to the floor.

  She let out a sigh. “You really must work on your magic.”

  I didn’t want to argue with someone who couldn’t properly argue back, but I’d felt the magic working.

  Why had her tooth fallen off again?

  “Now what do you suggest?” she asked, staring at the tooth in her hand.

  “Have you got a dentist? I’m sure they’ll let you have an emergency appointment.”

  “Let’s hope they can do a proper job.” She sighed, a great gust of breath that made my eyes water. It was so bad, I actually stumbled back a step. She didn’t seem to notice.

  “I’ll drive there right away. They’ll have to get me in.” And she handed me the tooth. “Here. Put this in a damp towel or something.”

  I went into the back and used some of the water from the kettle to dampen a paper towel and wrapped up her poor tooth. Then I took it back out to her. “Do you want me to drive you?”

  She shook her head. “No. You stay here. It doesn’t hurt. It’s just horrifying.” I felt she was blaming me for her misfortune, but I hadn’t baked her muffin, just bought it.

  Weirdly, I did feel guilty. And worried that maybe Florence and Mary Watt weren’t coping as well as I always thought. “Call me and let me know how you get on.”

  She nodded and dashed out. I spared a moment of pity for the poor dentist who’d be working near the halitosis capital of Oxfordshire.

  I wasn’t busy enough that I really missed Violet for the rest of the day. I even had time to do a bit of cleaning. It must have been a while since I’d swept the floor from the amount of Nyx’s black hair that was all over the place. I got the broom and began to sweep up and then I noticed there were streaks of pink and purple. This wasn’t Nyx’s fur I was sweeping up. It was Violet’s hair.

  What on earth?

  I was looking at the mass of hair I’d collected in the dustpan, wondering, when Theodore arrived, coming through from my back room so quietly I didn’t hear him. He’d come up from the trapdoor in the back room that led down into the subterranean tunnels that in turn led to the underground complex where a number of the vampire knitting club lived.

  He was beside me before I even noticed he was there.

  “You look lost in thought, Lucy.”

  “I’m not sure that hex was meant for me.”

  I shared with him my theory that Violet was the one who was suffering a string of misfortunes. “Her breath is absolutely foul. She came into work this morning with a massive pimple on her chin, and she broke her tooth on a muffin.”

  “That could have been a string of unfortunate occurrences,” Theodore said. It was one of the reasons he made such a good detective. He didn’t ever jump to conclusions.

  I held out the dustpan for him to see. “And she’s losing her hair.”

  “I can certainly see why you have discerned a pattern. And there could well be one. But this is your shop and residence. I think it would be prudent for us to look at who might want to put a hex on you.”

  I nodded. “That’s true. But she was the one who picked it up and brought it in. I live upstairs. I would never have seen that skull until I left the shop, which might not have been until lunchtime or even later.”

  He gave my statement his full attention. “So you’re suggesting that whoever put the hex on Violet knew that she worked here and would be the one most likely to stumble across it?”

  When he put it like that, it didn’t sound like a compelling theory, but I was perfectly fine and Violet was falling apart in front of my eyes.

  He looked around. “Where is Violet now?”

  “She went to the dentist to get her tooth stuck back on.”

  Since there were no customers at the time, he took advantage of our chance to talk frankly and brought out his notebook. “Think very carefully. Has anything happened lately to upset you? Do you have any enemies? Could you have inadvertently made someone angry with you?”

  I shook my head. “We all know that Sylvia’s angry with me. Well, she was angry with me. Now I’m angry with her.”

  “It’s not Sylvia.”

  “That’s so unfair. How can you immediately discount her when you won’t entertain the thought that Violet could be the victim? Who’s jumping to conclusions now?”

  Theodore had a face like a baby that never thinned down as it grew into manhood. He looked chubby and sweet and cherubic, which was probably another reason why he was such a good detective. People tended to discount him. But behind that sweet expression was a steel-trap mind. He turned his mild, blue gaze on me.

  “I’m not supposing anything. I interrogated Sylvia quite thoroughly. I am satisfied she had nothing to do with this.”

  “Okay then. So long as you’re not jumping to any conclusions.”

  “I try very hard not to do that. Now, can you think of anyone who’s angry with you?”

  I wrinkled my face. Not just my nose, my whole face. “Margaret Twigg. I had an email from her this morning telling me off for falling behind on my witch lessons. It would be just like her to put a curse on me to see if I could break it.”

  “Good.” He wrote Margaret Twigg’s name in his notebook. “Can you? Break the curse?”

  “I tried to fix Violet’s tooth, and it fell off again. And the skull isn’t even on the premises. That is some powerful magic. I don’t think I can break it without knowing more about the hex. Especially who put it on me. And I might need some extra help.”

  “Who else could want to harm you?”

  I had been thinking about it, but I really didn’t have any enemies that I knew of. Not living here in Oxford anyway. “Maybe a customer who wasn’t happy with their merchandise? But I’ve got a perfectly good return policy. I can’t think of anyone who’s not been a satisfied customer.”

  “What about neighbors?”

  I shook my head again. “Charlie and Alice in Frogg’s Books wouldn’t be married now if it wasn’t for me. The Watt sisters are like honorary grandmothers. I get my groceries at the grocery store at the top of the street. I can’t think of anyone who would be angry with me.”

  “And Violet?”

  Aha, he did think it could be Violet.

  “She met this guy on Witch Date. He called himself Forest Sprite, but when he came here, he said his first name was Leo.”

  “Forest Sprite, aka Leo,” he mumbled aloud as he scribbled notes.

  “Yes. They went on a date, and then they went on a second date and she was pretty mean to him. She basically accused him of not being a real witch. Said she’d report him to the coven. She was in a bad mood about something else. Then she said when she went to write to him to apologize, he’d taken his profile down.”

  Theodore raised his head from his notebook. “Taken his profile down? This was an online dating site?”

  “Oh, sorry. That’s a really important part of the story. It’s a dating site specifically for witches on the dark net. It’s called Witch Date.”

  He glanced up at me. “W-I-T-C-H?”

  I nodded. “That one.”

  “That does sound promising. I don’t suppose she knows his surname?”

  “I don’t think so. I could give you a description.”

  He shook his head. “Hester’s very good with computers. I’ll see what she can find out.” He tapped his pencil on his page and said, “I think I’ll get Hester started on that right away. You should go and see Margaret Twigg.”

  “And ask her if she’s put a hex on me?”

  His full, baby lips curved in a smile. “If she wants you to pay more attention to your magic, she’ll probably be pleased that you even noticed the hex.”

  “She’d have to think I was a really useless witch if I didn’t even know when a hex had been put on me.”

  I didn’t want to see Margaret Twigg. I never wanted to see Margaret Twigg. But he was right. I’d better find out what she knew.

  “I’ll see if Violet can come with me.”

  “Excellent idea. I’ll be in touch.”

  He turned to head back and stopped. “Oh, this is nice.”

  He’d come across the new batch of a wool/silk blend from the Shetland Islands. The colors were named after wine regions and had a richness and softness that I loved. It was the batch that Violet had been unpacking when she had the unfortunate incident with her tooth.

  “It is nice, isn’t it? That Chianti you’re holding would make a lovely cardigan. And I’ve got these really nice leather buttons that would go well with it.”

  The pair of us spent a happy ten minutes pulling together enough wool for one of the Teddy Lamont cardigan patterns he chose. And he agreed with me that the buttons were perfect. I might not be a great knitter, but I had an eye for style. I sent him away, not only with clues in a case of hexing but a knitting project as well. Two birds, one stone.

  Chapter 10

  I got busy then, and for a full hour, I actually wished my assistant was here. But she wasn’t, and so a couple of my customers had to wait a few minutes to be served. Nobody seemed to mind. In fact, two of them got chatting over the baby wool, and it turned out they were both expectant grandmothers. Not only did they happily pass the time waiting for my attention; when I was ready for them, I had a hard time getting theirs.

  At last I had the shop to myself again. I immediately texted Violet to see how her tooth was.

  “Got emergency appointment. Fixed now,” she texted back.

  She didn’t say anything about returning to the shop, and frankly, with that bad breath, I didn’t want her to. I texted back and asked if she’d go with me to Margaret Twigg’s after work.

  She agreed that she would, and so I said I’d pick her up at her house.

  When five o’clock came, I shut the shop as usual and went upstairs, where I found Nyx sleeping on the couch. The second I appeared, she leapt off the couch and stood by her food dish, meowing. “That’s boredom eating, babe,” I informed her. “You should come downstairs to the shop. You like it there.”

  Not while the place is cursed. The words appeared in my head, but I didn’t think those were my words. They were Nyx’s.

  “I’m getting rid of the hex. Promise,” I replied. And the sooner, the better.

 

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