I felt myself blushing. “No. Scarlett’s infatuated with me.”

  Margaret’s chuckle was evil. There was no other word for it. It was exactly my idea of a witch’s cackle only low and muffled, which somehow made it sound more devilish. “It’s like an entire flock of baby birds have hatched and imprinted on the wrong mothers. Oh, dear, what a tangle.”

  I was so pleased someone found this fiasco amusing. Okay, two someones, since Rafe had clearly enjoyed hearing about the potion mix-up. I certainly didn’t.

  Cardinal Woolsey’s was closed Sundays but I’d gone down this morning to catch up on paperwork and nearly jumped out of my skin when Scarlett banged on the door completely ignoring the closed sign. It was awkward and embarrassing having her stare at me like that, knowing she was under the influence of a magic I’d helped create. Finally, I’d had to tell her I had an appointment. She only left when I promised I’d see her later at rehearsal.

  I’d driven straight to Margaret Twig’s house to ask for her help, though I wondered why I’d bothered if all she was going to do was laugh at me.

  “There’s something I don’t understand,” I said.

  “Oh, more than one thing, I suspect.”

  I grit my teeth and continued, “We put Charlie and Alice’s hair and blood in the potion. Wasn’t that so they’d fall for each other?”

  “Yes, but it doesn’t make them immune from falling for other people, or others from falling for them.”

  “But why did Scarlett fall in love so strongly with me?”

  The older witch shrugged. She was all in purple today, so she looked like a know-it-all grape. “One of your hairs may have floated into the mix, or just some of your energy. You have to be very careful when mixing spells and potions to remain completely detached. We work magic, but we mustn’t put ourselves into it.”

  Now she told me. “So, the fact that I was invested in seeing Charlie and Alice get together means I could have put some of my own energy into the love potion?” I was horrified that I might have somehow polluted it.

  “It’s possible. As I keep telling you, Lucy, magic is an inexact science.”

  “I know, I know, that’s why they call it magic.”

  She chuckled some more. “Exactly.”

  “Well, I now have Scarlett stalking me. I’m serious. She came to the shop this morning. I wish I worked in a high level building where you need security clearance to enter, but, sadly, a knitting shop is pretty much open to everyone.”

  “Oh, dear. Does she know you live above your shop?”

  My eyes widened in horror. I hadn’t thought my lovesick friend might try to break into my home. “I don’t know. I can’t remember if I told her. I might have. Before I realized.”

  Margaret tapped her thin fingers against the granite counter top of her kitchen. “You might want to stay with a friend for a few nights. Until the spell fades.”

  “Two nights, right? You said this wouldn’t last more than three days and we’ve already passed twenty-four hours.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “How many times must I tell you? Not science. Inexact.” She spoke the last words slowly as though I might be having trouble grasping the concept. Oh, and I was.

  “You mean, you have no freaking clue when this spell will wear off?” I think my voice might have gone shrill for her eyes darkened in annoyance.

  “You did ask for my help. I cannot be held responsible for the incompetence of novice witches.”

  I thought I’d better leave before I said something I regretted and she retaliated by turning me into a frog.

  “Leaving so soon?” she called behind me as I marched back down the flagstone hallway to the front door.

  Before I got there, I turned. “Is there an antidote?” It wasn’t only the people in the play and Alice and Charlie who were affected. Poor Ian could end up harming his career if he acted toward Scarlett the way she was acting toward me.

  Margaret had followed me down the passage, probably to make certain I left. But at least she answered my question. “The spell can only cause infatuation, not real love. True love will always be more powerful.”

  Which helped not at all. Only Alice would remain unaffected, because she truly loved Charlie.

  I suppose I now knew one more thing. Whatever Ian felt for me, it wasn’t love.

  I put myself and my thoroughly broken ego into the small Ford and drove down the winding road that led me back toward Oxford. I pulled over before I got into town and texted Vi to see whether she could meet me at the shop to get things organized for the upcoming week. I didn’t really need her, but I wanted to tell her what Margaret had said and see if she had any ideas.

  Vi met me at the shop and I told her what had happened. All of it, from my date ditching me to pursue Scarlett to realizing that the woman he wanted, wanted me. At least Violet didn’t think it was funny. But then she must be feeling as guilty as I was. Maybe more as the potion had been her idea.

  When I told her about my fruitless trip to see Margaret, she nodded, not looking surprised. “I didn’t think she could do much.” She seemed to be deep in thought. Finally, she said, “Maybe we should try again.”

  “Try again?” She couldn’t possibly mean…

  “Alice can’t have put all the potion in that flask. If there’s some left, we could give the potion to Charlie again, this time when there’s no one around but Alice.” She went on, “And you could invite Ian for coffee and slip some into his cup.”

  I was not about to drug a man in order to get him interested and I was about to tell Violet that when the door of Cardinal Woolsey's burst open and the normally cheerful welcoming bells sounded like they were throwing a hissy fit.

  I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten to lock the door behind Violet and dreaded to see Scarlett, but it was Alice standing there. She was vibrating with negative energy and for a moment I saw a haze of red around her before I blinked and focused more carefully on her face. It was red and blotchy and her eyes had that swollen look of a recent crying bout.

  Violet and I both rushed forward. "Alice, what's wrong? Are you all right?" I asked and in the exact same breath Violet cried out, "What's happened? It's not Charlie, is it?" So our mixed words collided in mid air sounding as discordant as the door chimes had.

  Alice looked from one to the other of us. "I'll do it," she said. "I'll teach your knitting classes." And then she huffed a quick breath in and out. And all in a rush she said, "And I see from the notice in the window that you have a part-time position here. I would like to apply for it. I'm very good with customers, and very patient, I’m never cross, never late, and—" Here her voice became almost completely suspended by tears. "And I make a very nice cake."

  Alice and I glanced at each other and without a word being said she strode forward and locked the door. "Come upstairs," I said. "Let me make you a cup of tea."

  I was becoming so English that tea was the first thing I thought of in any difficult situation. Though, if her drama was bad enough, I also had chocolate and hard liquor upstairs in my flat.

  Alice was wearing one of her homemade jumpers in a dull green. I knew for a fact that she had knitted her sweater several sizes too large because I'd rung up the purchase of pattern and wool. When I questioned her she'd said she liked to be comfortable. Comfortable it might be, but no one could deny that the sweater made her look rather frumpy, even though it was exquisitely knitted. She wore it with a skirt that was neither short nor long but hovered about her knees as though undecided which way to go. She also wore thick black stockings and orthopedic shoes far too old for her young years.

  I put the kettle on, and Vi fetched a box of tissues. Then we sat around my kitchen table while her tale poured out. "I quit." She said the words defiantly, then blew her nose with resolution. She straightened her spine, folded her hands in her lap and said, "I made a dreadful mess with that love potion. I never should've asked for it. And now look what’s happened? All sorts of people are in love with the wrong ones. Charlie's completely infatuated with Polly and one of those stupid boys who made the mess in the first place is in love with me."

  “I’m so sorry.”

  She shook her head and blew her nose. “Jeremy Booth says I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen and he keeps trying to give me his school ring.”

  "It is a tangle," I admitted, "But it's not your fault. We never should've done it. However, the woman who made the love potion promised us that it wouldn't last longer than three days."

  "I don't care. What this fiasco has taught me is that Charlie will never love me. If he’d looked at me once in the last three years the way he looks at Polly it would have been enough. I would've had hope. But he never has. And now, he never will. I thought I'd give it one more chance.” She plucked another tissue from the box and began to shred it.

  “I went to his flat this morning determined to speak to him. No tricks, no cake, no silly love potions. I would tell him as an adult about my feelings for him and ask him if he felt there was any hope of his reciprocating my affections."

  I had a very, very bad feeling about this. "Alice, perhaps you should've waited until the potion wore off."

  She shook her head firmly. "I've come to the end of my rope. I had to know."

  Violet looked at me and grimaced. “What happened?”

  “He wasn’t in the flat. He was in the shop speaking on the phone. It was Mrs. Bradley, who was putting in a preorder for Martin Hodgins’ latest novel. Naturally, I was pleased as the book is for her grandson who has been a reluctant reader. While he was speaking to her, I noticed he’d been working on the computer. I walked around behind him to see what he was doing and he was on that woman's Instagram account."

  "Whose Instagram account?" Violet asked looking confused.

  "Polly's of course. I didn't even think Charlie knew what Instagram was. I rather thought the entire concept of social media had passed him by. The photo he’d been looking at was of Polly and him at rehearsal. And the way he looked at her…" She shook her head. "I've never been a woman of violence. I didn't know I had a violent impulse in my body. But I wanted to throw that computer across the room with all my might. I didn't, of course.”

  Nyx, who’d been sleeping on the living room sofa padded into the kitchen to see what was going on and immediately jumped onto Alice’s lap. Nyx is a great comfort in times of stress. Alice stroked her, calling her a sweet puss, which Nyx took in good part, in spite of the fact that Alice left bits of shredded tissue in her fur as she stroked the cat.

  Alice continued, “When he was off the phone, I cleared my throat and told him that I had something serious to tell him. He barely looked at me. He showed me more pictures of him and Polly on the computer and told me he’d never felt like that about a woman in his life.”

  “Oh, dear,” said Violet. Nyx nestled more deeply against Alice and I poured more tea.

  “So, instead of declaring my love I told him I was quitting." She gave a watery chuckle. "At least that finally got his attention. He looked as though I'd stabbed him in the heart. He said, ‘You can't leave. What’s the matter? Aren't you happy? Do you want a raise?’"

  Violet looked at me sideways and said, "A raise would be nice. Who doesn't want a raise?"

  "We’re talking about Alice, not you," I said in a low voice. I thought that Violet was overpaid as it was considering the way she kept interfering in my personal life. And she didn't bring me fresh baked cakes every day, either.

  Alice shook her head. "I don't care about the money. I inherited some money from my grandmother and I have a talent for stocks. My portfolio pays me all I need. I only work for Charlie because I love him. And, of course, I need something to do all day."

  Violet’s eyes widened. "Perhaps you could give me some tips. I’d love to have a stock portfolio."

  "Violet. We're here to help Alice," I reminded her.

  She tossed her rainbow striped hair over her shoulder. "Right. So, what did you say after he offered you the raise?"

  She put her head in her hands and there was a moment of complete silence. Then, in a small voice, that emerged through her partly open fingers she said, "I told him I loved him and that I couldn't stay another minute, and then I ran out of the shop." She took her hands away from her face. "I didn't even stop to pick up my coat or handbag. One of you will have to go back and get it. I can never set foot inside that shop again. Anyway, I ran straight here."

  I imagined what my grandmother would say in a moment like this. I had certainly come running to her with my share of problems and as though she were beside me guiding me I leaned over and rubbed Alice's knee lightly. "You did exactly the right thing. I'll go myself and get your bag and coat and demand he write you a check for whatever he owes you in salary.”

  “Thank you.”

  My cell phone buzzed. I checked it and then let the call go to voicemail. Vi raised her eyebrows. “Let me guess, the groveling detective?”

  “Who knows if he’s groveling? Maybe he’s calling to tell me he can never see me again as he’s in love with Scarlett.” I rolled my eyes. “As if I care.”

  Both women looked at me with sympathy and Alice said, “I’m so sorry I ever started this love potion nonsense.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. Anyway, my second assistant, Meri, is going on an extended visit to Egypt. You can take her place and we’ll begin advertising right away for your knitting classes."

  She looked fearful and grateful at same time. "Thank you. And you won't tell Charlie where I am."

  I rather thought he’d guess but I didn't say so.

  They both looked at me. “Are you going now?” Violet finally asked.

  “Of course not,” I cried. “The last thing I’m going to do is rush up there and immediately let Charlie know where Alice is. No. Let him feel what it’s like at Frogg’s Books without her. Let him manage the back orders and the mothers who can’t make up their minds which books to buy their children for their birthdays. Let him make his own tea for once.” I raised my eyebrows and looked directly at Alice. “Let him eat shop-bought cake.”

  For the first time since she’d arrived I caught the gleam of a smile. “He hasn’t eaten shop cake in so long it might kill him.”

  It wouldn’t do that, but living without Alice even for a day might show him what he was missing. It was entirely possible that nothing, not a potion, not Alice’s efficiency and endless devotion was going to make him fall in love with her but she’d still be better off knowing that was the case than continuing to hope and dream.

  I stood up and said briskly, “Right. Tea break is over. Violet, can you show Alice how to run our cash machine and how everything works? This is a perfect opportunity, while the shop is closed.” I felt very profoundly that Charlie’s loss was my gain as I said, “And I am going to start organizing our classes.”

  Alice immediately looked as though she had made a terrible rash decision. “Must you plan the classes quite so soon?”

  “Yes.” I said it quite firmly because I knew that given half a chance she would find a hundred excuses why she couldn’t teach the classes. The truth was, having eight or ten knitters sit around a table in my back room while she taught them to knit would be very good for her confidence as well as giving her something else to occupy her mind.

  I may have sounded like a cruel taskmaster but I decided to be quite gentle in easing Alice into teaching classes. I added one beginner class to the website. We’d start there. I asked her if she was available on Wednesday evenings and, rather sadly, she said she was available every evening. I settled on Wednesday as it didn’t conflict with the more regular use of my back room by the vampire knitting club. And, we’d see how she did before I added more classes.

  Since I already had a waiting list of people who’d asked about classes I immediately began phoning them. I also put a note in my front window. Within an hour I had six people signed up. If I added myself that would be seven.

  I went out front to tell Alice the good news and she seemed both pleased and terrified. I said, “We’ll start next Wednesday. That gives you lots of time to plan but not very much time to get nervous. Honestly, they’re all nice people who come here. And you’re doing them such a favor.”

  “I did used to enjoy teaching knitting.”

  Just before three o’clock I walked up to Frogg’s Books. I deliberately didn’t tell Alice where I was going because I didn’t want to be charged with a load of messages for Charlie that I had no intention of delivering. Much easier if I just walked over, grabbed her things and left. Obviously, he’d work out where she was from the fact that I was the one who’d come to collect them.

  Unlike me, Charlie opened on Sunday afternoons and I was curious how he was making out without his faithful assistant. Sure enough, when I arrived, the man who usually had his head in a book and a fresh cup of tea at his elbow looked to be in a state bordering on dementia. I paused just inside the door and decided to enjoy myself for a moment on Alice’s behalf.

  “I’m sorry, I just don’t know where it is,” he said, and from his tone it was clear this wasn’t the first time he’d said those words.

  Standing beside him was a woman who looked irritable and overbearing. She said, “But why on earth would you phone me to tell me my special order was in if you didn’t know where it was?” I felt that this was not the first time she had said those words, either.

  Almost pleadingly Charlie said, “But it wasn’t me who phoned you.”

  “No, it wasn’t. Where is that nice young woman who usually helps me?”

  And wasn’t that the question. I waited with interest to see what Charlie would say. He looked harassed and helpless and finally said, “She called in sick today. She is not well.”

  The woman raised her hands in the air. “Can you call her at home and find out were my book is?”

  He said, “Look, just give me a minute. It’ll be in the back room somewhere.”

  She let out an exclamation of impatience. “Oh, never mind. I’ll come in again later in the week.”

  She walked very purposefully out the door, nearly colliding with me. Charlie looked overwhelmed and bewildered as he turned to me and then said, “Oh, thank goodness it’s you, Lucy. How can I help you?”

 

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