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power,’ Katie said, but she didn’t look especially shocked. More intrigued. Gwen kept forgetting how strong she was, how motivated. She had to stop thinking of her as a frightened fourteen-year-old. ‘So. What do I do about Mr Cole? Is there any way I can try to talk to him? Instigate contact, kind of thing. I mean, he’s obviously trying to talk to me and if I want the nightmares to stop, maybe I should try harder to listen.’

      That made perfect sense. Gwen felt uneasy about it, but she couldn’t think of any way out of it. Katie was asking for her help. And since she was probably the one who had cursed her with this, she had to get rid of it. Cure Katie. ‘There’s a spell we can try. Like a sort of summoning.’

      ‘Like a séance?’

      ‘I suppose. Iris has put down the bare details but with so little description, it’s clear she didn’t approve.’

      ‘Good thing she’s not here, then,’ Katie said. ‘Can we get on with it?’ She drained her smoothie, making sucking sounds with the straw.

      ‘I thought you’d say that.’ Gwen went back into the house and picked up the first candle to hand. It was a bergamot pillar candle she used in the kitchen to get rid of the smell after cooking curry. Back outside, she put it on the floor in front of the bench and sat cross-legged on the grass. Katie abandoned the bench and sat opposite.

      Gwen lit the candle and reached for Katie’s hands. They were cold and she squeezed them gently.

      Katie looked excited, as if they were having an adventure. ‘What should I be doing?’

      ‘I think we just listen,’ Gwen said. She stared at the candle flame and willed herself to relax.

      ‘Focused or meditative?’ Katie said, after a moment. That girl really had been reading her books.

      ‘Meditative. We need to open a space for Oliver Cole to enter.’

      ‘He’s not entering me, thank you very much,’ Katie said, but then she closed her eyes and went quiet.

      Gwen did the same and, after a while, she felt herself slip into the dream space between waking and sleeping. Instead of a man who might be Katie’s Mr Cole, she saw Katie lying in the hospital bed, aged fourteen and close to death. Gwen opened her eyes. Katie was in front of her. Twenty-one years old. Healthy. Alive.

      Gwen was covered in goose bumps and she squeezed Katie’s hands. ‘Sorry. I can’t.’

      Katie opened her eyes. ‘It’s okay,’ she said, evidently seeing something alarming in Gwen’s expression. ‘I’ll find his watch. I don’t need his help.’ She smiled. ‘I actually met someone else who is looking for it. He seems like the kind of person who gets what he wants. If I stick with him, I bet he’ll lead me to it.’

      ‘He?’ Gwen said. She’d seen the kind of smile Katie was wearing before and knew exactly what it meant. ‘Would this be an attractive kind of “he”, by any chance?’

      ‘Maybe,’ Katie said. ‘But don’t worry, I’m being very sensible.’

      ‘That’s not what worries me.’ Katie was always so cautious. She didn’t trust people easily and was careful of every possible danger. While part of Gwen had welcomed that, knowing that Katie was never going to drink too much or take drugs or get into a car with a drunk driver, another part of her worried that she was never going to live either. That her safe world was going to get smaller and smaller until it comprised her own flat, End House, and that mausoleum of a hotel on the hill. Maybe not even the last one if Mr Cole continued to harass her from beyond the grave.

      Katie drank some smoothie and laid her head on the back of the bench. She stretched into an enormous yawn, one that could rival Cat, and wiped her face. ‘Sorry. Not sleeping well.’

      ‘Take a nap, here,’ Gwen said, taking Katie’s glass and putting it on the ground. She might not be able to solve the restless spirit or possible black magic, but she could feed Katie blitzed fruit and give her a safe place to rest. Sometimes that was all you could do and, sometimes, that was enough.

      *

      Gwen was deep in thought as she walked along the canal path from Pendleford towards Bath. She’d set off early, before six, so that it would be quiet, but there were more dog walkers than she’d anticipated. A man was on top of his canal boat, smoking a cigarette in the dewy morning, and he said ‘good morning’ as she passed.

      After a couple of miles, the rhythm of walking had quietened her mind and she felt as if she might be able to work when she got home. Gwen wasn’t looking at the scenery, her mind was turned firmly inwards, so she didn’t notice the woman until she was right in front of her. She jumped nimbly from the side of her boat onto the path. ‘Gwen Harper, I presume?’

      The woman had silvery grey hair, and a yellow headscarf tied halfway back on her head, peasant-style. She was wearing dark blue jeans and a padded gilet over a checked shirt. She looked healthy and outdoorsy and looked oddly familiar. ‘Have we met?’ Gwen said, trying to keep her tone polite rather than worried.

      The woman shook her head, holding out a hand. ‘I’m Hannah.’

      Gwen took the proffered hand. It was dry and the skin was a little bit rough, the nails cut square and short. Practical hands. ‘Did you want something?’ It was going to be slightly tiresome if people were going to start accosting her out in the open as well as coming to the back door at all hours of the day. No escape.

      Hannah smiled. ‘Not really. I just thought we should meet. Maybe we can help each other one day.’ She shrugged. ‘You know how these things work. Tea?’

      ‘Sorry?’

      ‘Would you like to come in for tea?’ Hannah gestured to the canal boat. It had the word ‘Freedom’ painted on the side in curling blue letters.

      Gwen was torn between a desire to see inside the pretty canal boat and the feeling that getting into a confined space with a complete stranger was the kind of thing she’d warn Katie not to do.

      Hannah narrowed her eyes. ‘I knew Iris, if that helps at all.’

      Gwen thought of Lily, her snake eyes and tiny teeth and the hard glint of insanity. She’d known Iris, too.

      ‘I’m not surprised you don’t trust people, after Lily Thomas.’ Hannah appeared to be a mind reader.

      ‘How do you—?’

      ‘Oh, come on. Did you think the Harpers are the only gifted family in the world? I’m Hannah Ash.’ She waited, as if expecting Gwen to do something. Gasp, maybe.

      Gwen shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t—’

      Hannah whistled. ‘Wow, Iris wasn’t joking when she said she was the loner type. She really never told you about us?’

      Gwen shook her head. ‘I didn’t actually know Iris. My mum and her had a falling out and we moved around a lot and—’

      Hannah held up a hand. ‘None of my business. I just wanted to meet you, to say “hello”.’

      ‘Hello,’ Gwen said. She realised that she’d folded her arms across her body. Not very friendly. She forced them to unknot, put them by her sides.

      ‘There are a few old families still around. My lot, the Ash family, are Avon way, the Irons are Somerset, I don’t know the Willows very well but they’re in Dorset. You know what it’s like, can’t live too close. That just causes problems.’

      ‘Right,’ Gwen said. She felt a little faint.

      ‘I pass through this way at least once a month, usually around this time. Or you can ask one of the other river folk — they’ll pass a message on. Just if you ever need anything.’ Hannah gave Gwen a final look, raised a hand in a half-wave and jumped back onto the boat. She ducked through a low doorway and was gone.

      *

      Katie had arrived at The

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