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Authors: Kerry Greenwood
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candied it himself. He has the instincts of a really good pastry chef. I’ll have to let him go in a few years, to do a proper apprenticeship. But he’s still a little shaky on reading and writing and of course he might go bung at any moment. He’s always messed things up before, he says so himself.’
‘Self-fulfilling prophecies,’ said Meroe. ‘He might not. Well, that was lovely. Thank you for lunch and the solution to the Lucifer problem.’
‘Thank you for the salad,’ I said, really meaning it.
Meroe left to go back to the Sibyl’s Cave, her magic shop. It has a little doll in a bottle by the door, marked ‘A Present from Cumae’, which always makes Professor Monk laugh. I keep meaning to ask him about that. There the seeker after knowledge can purchase anything from sheep’s shoulderblades for divination to herbs, runes, books of spells, occult jewellery, holy water from a variety of sources, little statues of any given deity, Egyptian oils, incense and tarot cards. They may also have a refreshing look at Belladonna, a cat so black that light almost falls through her, who lies in the tiny window and attracts custom by batting idly at the Celtic symbols and looking inscrutable, depending on mood. It is considered lucky, in the occult community, to stroke Belladonna upon entering the Sibyl’s Cave. I had detected amongst the magicians a tendency to talk to Bella as though she was Meroe. I suppose, under some circumstances, she might be. You never know with witches, and you certainly never know with cats.
I cleared the table and sat down to read some more of my Jade Forrester. She has been diversifying into sci-fi lately. She’s very good at it, if light on for detail of where the crew got this ship and how it works. But how she was going to get her Avon and Roj together—given their mutual loathing and total refusal to understand that they were made for each other— I could not imagine. I read on, through another cup of coffee. Horatio got down from the sofa, sniffed the areas which Lucifer had marked with his profane little paws, sneezed, then levitated to the table for a conciliatory scratch behind the ears.
‘He’s gone now,’ I said soothingly. ‘Trudi has him.’
Horatio sneezed again, implying that Trudi was welcome to him. Then he settled down next to my book rest in his usual loaf shape, paws folded under, and began to purr. What with the rain and the purring and the Jade Forrester, I was well occupied until about five, when Daniel came to my door. He rang, even though he had a key. When I let him in he was carrying a rucksack.
‘I thought you mightn’t mind if I left a few clothes and things here,’ he said. ‘In case I come in like I did before, in need of first aid and smelling like a drain. If you don’t mind? I don’t want you to think that I’m moving in on you, Corinna.’
‘A good idea, there’s an empty wardrobe in the spare bedroom,’ I offered.
‘I’ll stash the stuff, then,’ he said.
My spare bedroom is always ready for anyone who wants to sleep amongst the things which somehow I can’t throw away and might still need, like old clothes, and the things which I will need but needn’t keep on display, like my sewing machine and box of fabrics. I also keep my To Be Read pile of books there. The TBR is now taller than me, and never seems to get any shorter. The wardrobe, however, is empty, if hard to get to. Daniel had brought two changes of underwear, a pair of jeans, a pair of boots, two t-shirts and a jacket. He also had a plastic bag which contained shaving things and spare keys, judging by the clunk as he put it on the shelf. I delved for an emotion. When men start leaving clothes in your house, sooner or later they move in, that was the maxim. I did not feel threatened.
Besides, it was Daniel. I made him some coffee and we sat down. Horatio elevated his chin for Daniel’s attentions. I explained about Lucifer and Daniel approved.
‘Nice for him to get
‘Self-fulfilling prophecies,’ said Meroe. ‘He might not. Well, that was lovely. Thank you for lunch and the solution to the Lucifer problem.’
‘Thank you for the salad,’ I said, really meaning it.
Meroe left to go back to the Sibyl’s Cave, her magic shop. It has a little doll in a bottle by the door, marked ‘A Present from Cumae’, which always makes Professor Monk laugh. I keep meaning to ask him about that. There the seeker after knowledge can purchase anything from sheep’s shoulderblades for divination to herbs, runes, books of spells, occult jewellery, holy water from a variety of sources, little statues of any given deity, Egyptian oils, incense and tarot cards. They may also have a refreshing look at Belladonna, a cat so black that light almost falls through her, who lies in the tiny window and attracts custom by batting idly at the Celtic symbols and looking inscrutable, depending on mood. It is considered lucky, in the occult community, to stroke Belladonna upon entering the Sibyl’s Cave. I had detected amongst the magicians a tendency to talk to Bella as though she was Meroe. I suppose, under some circumstances, she might be. You never know with witches, and you certainly never know with cats.
I cleared the table and sat down to read some more of my Jade Forrester. She has been diversifying into sci-fi lately. She’s very good at it, if light on for detail of where the crew got this ship and how it works. But how she was going to get her Avon and Roj together—given their mutual loathing and total refusal to understand that they were made for each other— I could not imagine. I read on, through another cup of coffee. Horatio got down from the sofa, sniffed the areas which Lucifer had marked with his profane little paws, sneezed, then levitated to the table for a conciliatory scratch behind the ears.
‘He’s gone now,’ I said soothingly. ‘Trudi has him.’
Horatio sneezed again, implying that Trudi was welcome to him. Then he settled down next to my book rest in his usual loaf shape, paws folded under, and began to purr. What with the rain and the purring and the Jade Forrester, I was well occupied until about five, when Daniel came to my door. He rang, even though he had a key. When I let him in he was carrying a rucksack.
‘I thought you mightn’t mind if I left a few clothes and things here,’ he said. ‘In case I come in like I did before, in need of first aid and smelling like a drain. If you don’t mind? I don’t want you to think that I’m moving in on you, Corinna.’
‘A good idea, there’s an empty wardrobe in the spare bedroom,’ I offered.
‘I’ll stash the stuff, then,’ he said.
My spare bedroom is always ready for anyone who wants to sleep amongst the things which somehow I can’t throw away and might still need, like old clothes, and the things which I will need but needn’t keep on display, like my sewing machine and box of fabrics. I also keep my To Be Read pile of books there. The TBR is now taller than me, and never seems to get any shorter. The wardrobe, however, is empty, if hard to get to. Daniel had brought two changes of underwear, a pair of jeans, a pair of boots, two t-shirts and a jacket. He also had a plastic bag which contained shaving things and spare keys, judging by the clunk as he put it on the shelf. I delved for an emotion. When men start leaving clothes in your house, sooner or later they move in, that was the maxim. I did not feel threatened.
Besides, it was Daniel. I made him some coffee and we sat down. Horatio elevated his chin for Daniel’s attentions. I explained about Lucifer and Daniel approved.
‘Nice for him to get
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