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Authors: Camilla Chafer
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hint, though her back was ramrod straight, like she wasn’t completely at home.
“She had perfect timing,” I replied, suddenly feeling a little protective of the woman who had zapped me, quite literally, out of the firing – fire – line.
“So she did,” the older man agreed smoothly. His voice had the clipped New York edge that I was familiar with from too much film watching. “My name is Robert Bartholomew and this is my wife, Eleanor. Our son, Marc.” Robert nodded towards the younger blonde man who was lounging on the sofa, one leg slung across the other. I thought he would have looked more at home at the beach rather than in this bastion of New York wealth. I nodded at him briefly and he smiled back warmly, melting me just a little. “You, of course, are Stella.” I nodded and Robert waved a hand, indicating that I should sit next to their son. So, with a brief glance at him, I did.
Eleanor poured tea into delicate china teacups with a trio of gold bands around the edge, from a set that sat on a tray on the low table. “Tetley,” she said, adding hesitantly, as if she weren’t sure she got it right, “Just like home?”
“I’ve barely been away. I don’t think I’m quite ready to be homesick,” I said, then held my tongue when I realised how rude that must have sounded. Eleanor stiffened a fraction before continuing to fill the cup. I added quickly, “Thank you. I appreciate you thinking of me. That was kind of you.” She relaxed and I gave myself a mental kick as I leant forward to accept the teacup and scooped in two heaped sugars. She poured another cup for Étoile and moved to set it on a low table near her before settling back in her space, ankles crossed neatly. She struck me as delicate but very assured, even if she had assumed the “I’ll be mother” role.
“Are you the, uh, council?” I asked the air, not entirely sure whom I should be addressing. I balanced the cup and saucer awkwardly in my hand, unsure whether I should put it down. What if I spilled on the upholstery, or left a ring mark on the tray?
“Eleanor and I are members, though this is not the whole council,” replied Robert as Eleanor gave a small smile. “We have called a meeting and the council will be here later. As Étoile no doubt told you, they are very much looking forward to meeting you and you will have the opportunity to talk to them.”
“What will we be talking about?” I questioned, wondering what kind of chat went on at committee meetings. Maybe we’d talk about the best breed of black cat, or potions or ... well, I couldn’t think what witches talked about.
“You, in part,” said Robert and I wondered if, perhaps, that should have been a little more obvious. I had had a strange and long day, I could be forgiven , I thought. “We will need to decide your future,” he finished.
I considered the last twenty-four hours. My future looked very different now from what I had planned. Hell, I couldn’t even have planned the past day. “And I actually get a say in that?”
Robert smiled companionably. “We can’t force you to do anything. You did after all come here willingly,” he reminded me, a small smile playing on his lips.
“I didn’t have much of a choice. Not that I don’t appreciate Étoile turning up in the nick of time,” I added hastily, spreading my hands, the teacup wobbling precariously. “I do, but this all seems very much out of my hands.”
“If you will do us the courtesy of meeting and listening with the council tonight, you will, of course, be at liberty to do whatever you choose. Naturally, we hope that you will take on board what we have to say and listen carefully to our recommendations before you decide anything,” said Robert, and his voice was at once authoritative and open. “It is our wish that you stay safe, above all else.”
“Why am I so special?” God help me, I sounded whiny and ungrateful.
Eleanor looked at her husband before answering me
“She had perfect timing,” I replied, suddenly feeling a little protective of the woman who had zapped me, quite literally, out of the firing – fire – line.
“So she did,” the older man agreed smoothly. His voice had the clipped New York edge that I was familiar with from too much film watching. “My name is Robert Bartholomew and this is my wife, Eleanor. Our son, Marc.” Robert nodded towards the younger blonde man who was lounging on the sofa, one leg slung across the other. I thought he would have looked more at home at the beach rather than in this bastion of New York wealth. I nodded at him briefly and he smiled back warmly, melting me just a little. “You, of course, are Stella.” I nodded and Robert waved a hand, indicating that I should sit next to their son. So, with a brief glance at him, I did.
Eleanor poured tea into delicate china teacups with a trio of gold bands around the edge, from a set that sat on a tray on the low table. “Tetley,” she said, adding hesitantly, as if she weren’t sure she got it right, “Just like home?”
“I’ve barely been away. I don’t think I’m quite ready to be homesick,” I said, then held my tongue when I realised how rude that must have sounded. Eleanor stiffened a fraction before continuing to fill the cup. I added quickly, “Thank you. I appreciate you thinking of me. That was kind of you.” She relaxed and I gave myself a mental kick as I leant forward to accept the teacup and scooped in two heaped sugars. She poured another cup for Étoile and moved to set it on a low table near her before settling back in her space, ankles crossed neatly. She struck me as delicate but very assured, even if she had assumed the “I’ll be mother” role.
“Are you the, uh, council?” I asked the air, not entirely sure whom I should be addressing. I balanced the cup and saucer awkwardly in my hand, unsure whether I should put it down. What if I spilled on the upholstery, or left a ring mark on the tray?
“Eleanor and I are members, though this is not the whole council,” replied Robert as Eleanor gave a small smile. “We have called a meeting and the council will be here later. As Étoile no doubt told you, they are very much looking forward to meeting you and you will have the opportunity to talk to them.”
“What will we be talking about?” I questioned, wondering what kind of chat went on at committee meetings. Maybe we’d talk about the best breed of black cat, or potions or ... well, I couldn’t think what witches talked about.
“You, in part,” said Robert and I wondered if, perhaps, that should have been a little more obvious. I had had a strange and long day, I could be forgiven , I thought. “We will need to decide your future,” he finished.
I considered the last twenty-four hours. My future looked very different now from what I had planned. Hell, I couldn’t even have planned the past day. “And I actually get a say in that?”
Robert smiled companionably. “We can’t force you to do anything. You did after all come here willingly,” he reminded me, a small smile playing on his lips.
“I didn’t have much of a choice. Not that I don’t appreciate Étoile turning up in the nick of time,” I added hastily, spreading my hands, the teacup wobbling precariously. “I do, but this all seems very much out of my hands.”
“If you will do us the courtesy of meeting and listening with the council tonight, you will, of course, be at liberty to do whatever you choose. Naturally, we hope that you will take on board what we have to say and listen carefully to our recommendations before you decide anything,” said Robert, and his voice was at once authoritative and open. “It is our wish that you stay safe, above all else.”
“Why am I so special?” God help me, I sounded whiny and ungrateful.
Eleanor looked at her husband before answering me
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