The pudding lane witch, p.16
The Pudding Lane Witch, page 16
The rest of Gweneviere’s journey was pretty boring; she even nodded off at times. After all, she didn’t exactly get a lot of sleep the night before, but not for the same reasons as her many sleepless nights in Thomas’ bed.
The carriage came to an abrupt stop as they arrived, waking Gweneviere from her snooze as she was thrown across the carriage, almost headbutting the other side. Luckily for the driver, Gweneviere wasn’t like most socialite ladies, who would have probably had him fired for such insolence. She dusted herself off and sat back up to see Poppy through the carriage window. Coincidentally, Poppy was just by the front door, attending to some flowerbeds full of precious little petunias at the entrance. Once she noticed the carriage she jumped up with excitement. She couldn’t have officially known it was Gweneviere, but she could sense it. Gweneviere descended the two deep steps coming from the carriage door, and landed on her feet amongst the gravel driveway.
“Gwen!” Poppy exclaimed, wiping her soil-covered hands against her pink floral dress.
“Poppy!”
They ran towards each other like the giddy schoolgirls that they had so recently been.
“I’ve missed you so much,” Poppy mumbled into Gweneviere’s ear as they hugged. “I’m so glad you took me up on my offer.”
“I hope you don’t think I’ve come too early, it’s just as soon as I read your letter, I arranged travel for the next day, I was too excited to wait.” Gweneviere laughed awkwardly.
“No, of course not! I’m more than happy to see you so soon, and I’m sure we already have a lot more to tell each other since we wrote those letters.”
“Well, I definitely have some exciting news to tell you.”
“Ooh, I can’t wait. I’ll show you to your room and let you settle in while I finish up a couple of personal errands and my gardening. Then, we can have a proper catch up with a cuppa.”
“Sounds great,” Gweneviere said, lugging her bag through the gravel.
“Oh, come here, I’ll take that, don’t worry,” Poppy offered, and with a wave of her hand the bag floated on behind her with ease.
Poppy guided Gweneviere through the mansion, which could easily put even Gerald and Agatha’s to shame.
“Wow, this house is amazing, Poppy. You’ve really landed on your feet, huh?”
“Yeah… I, er, got lucky, I guess,” Poppy said, with less chipperness in her voice than usual.
“Are you alright?” Gweneviere asked, having noticed the shift in Poppy’s tone. She wondered if Poppy perhaps felt guilty for rubbing her luxurious lifestyle in her face. But she was only there due to luck, right? If things at graduation had played out differently, then Poppy could’ve ended up with Thomas. Gweneviere shuddered at the thought.
“Yes. Yes, of course, I can’t wait to have a proper chat later,” Poppy chirped, trying to fill her voice with joy once more.
They ascended a grand spiralling staircase inside one of the many turrets of the manor house and began walking down a long and wide hall that seemed to go on forever. As they reached one of the doors, quite far down, Poppy opened it and let them in.
“Well, here we are, your humble abode for the foreseeable. I hope it’s to your liking.”
“To my liking? It’s practically a bloody palace! Yes, I can safely say that this will do very nicely. Thanks again,” Gweneviere said as she slowly spun around, trying to take in every inch of the room.
There was a huge four corner post bed with ridiculous amounts of plush pink blankets, duvets, and cushions, far more than any one person could need. It was clear that Poppy had designed this room; pink was her favourite. There was a darling little dresser table, and even the ceiling was adorned with a cornice, wrapping around every edge, carved meticulously to look like growing vines and flowers. Yes, this would do indeed.
“Right, well, I’ll go finish my errands and I’ll meet you in the drawing room around three-ish?” Poppy proposed to a still dazzled Gweneviere.
“Yeah, sure. If I can find the drawing room, that is,” Gweneviere joked.
“Don’t worry, it’s not hiding.” Poppy laughed, awkwardly, then headed back downstairs to finish her gardening, leaving Gweneviere to get acquainted with her room.
Gweneviere leapt onto the cloud-like bed, which almost enveloped her as she did so. The mattress was much nicer than any at Thomas’ house – especially his own, as it had large dent in it where his lump of a body slept. Though, all Gweneviere could think about as she let herself get swallowed up by the bed, was how amazing it would be if Kambili was there too. They could surely get up to a lot more fun on a bed like this.
Gweneviere didn’t see the point in unpacking, she would only be there for two days, and so decided to just lay her bag out on the floor. She also wanted to be prepared to make a fast exit, should Kambili use the emergency palm spell, something that Gweneviere couldn’t help but find herself keep checking for. Although she knew the pain alone would be enough to draw her attention to it, she didn’t want to risk missing anything, even the slightest blemish that might occur from a possible failed attempt. She had one last look before trying to ease her mind for a little while. Gweneviere knew Kambili could look after herself for a couple days and that she definitely wouldn’t have wanted Gweneviere to spend her whole time away worrying.
After an hour or two passed by, it was almost three o’clock. Gweneviere had spent most of her time wandering about the grounds of the house, enjoying the beautiful gardens that Poppy had so lovingly tended to. She came to a central area with a handmade bench, that she could only assume Poppy’s perfect husband had made with his bare hands. Sadly, she hadn’t seen him around yet; hopefully he’d be there at dinner, as it would be a nice change to have a bit of eye candy in the guise of a man. She still cared for Kambili, of course, and would never act upon such lusts, but it was still nice to do a little ‘window shopping’, as Gweneviere would often think to herself.
She sat basking in the afternoon summer sun – most pale Londoners would’ve already cowered into the shade, as they were used to the smog covered skies of London protecting them from the sun’s UV rays. Gweneviere, on the other hand, could more than take the heat. She lived for it, and it didn’t take much to give her skin a healthy glow and tan, though apparently pale was all the rage at the time. Gweneviere’s tan would’ve probably been seen more as a sign of poverty, not that Gweneviere cared.
Soon enough, teatime came around and Gweneviere left the gardens for the house, where she began exploring all the rooms in search for her destination. There were rooms full of portraits, rooms full of taxidermy, and even a room with a singular piano in the centre. Eventually, Gweneviere found her way to the drawing room, at least she assumed it was the drawing room, where she awaited Poppy’s company. Shortly after, Poppy arrived, with a floating tea set beside her.
“Do you not have a butler?” Gweneviere asked, intrigued.
“Yes, but I’m still not quite used to the whole being-waited-on thing. Besides, who needs a butler when I can do this?” Poppy smirked, pointing towards her floating tea set.
“Speaking of which, do the staff know you’re a witch?” Gweneviere asked, assuming surely someone about the house would have seen Poppy’s floating inanimate objects.
“Yes, they do. I’m rather lucky in that respect, too. My husband sourced out decent, open-minded human beings to work for us.”
“Are they paid?” Gweneviere asked, testing the waters.
“Why of course they are, silly. What else would they… Oh, you wanted to know if we had any slaves. Thankfully, no. He’s too kind of a man to enforce anything as barbaric as that. No, each of our staff have a complimentary bedroom onsite, for when they need it, and are all paid rather decently, if I do say so myself, so that they can support their families,” Poppy explained.
“Well, I must admit, that is refreshing to hear. I wish everyone with a bit of money was as classy as the Hammersmiths,” she teased.
“Yes, well, enough about me, come on, what’s this exciting news you have for me?” Poppy sweetly demanded.
“To cut a long story short, I’m in love. Her name’s Kambili, and she’s just wonderful. I love everything about her. She’s kind, beautiful, funny, and strong-minded…” Gweneviere’s face lit up uncontrollably as she described Kambili.
“Wow… that is certainly not what I was expecting. I mean, I knew about your preferences but… I guess I just didn’t think you’d ever follow through with it.”
“Are you not happy for me?”
“No, of course I’m happy for you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt, is all. Besides, she sounds a lot like you, so I suppose you’re rather well matched. I bet even I’d struggle to get a word in edge ways with the two of you,” Poppy joked, reassuring Gweneviere that she was indeed supportive.
“Oh shush,” Gweneviere chuckled.
“But, in all honesty, if she makes you happy, then I’m really happy for you, Gwen.” Poppy smiled.
“Thanks… though there is once slight hitch,” Gweneviere added, knowing it was more of a tree in the road rather than a slight hitch.
“Have you not told her that you’re a witch?” Poppy asked, with wide eyes, before taking a sip of her piping hot tea.
“No, no, it’s not that. To be honest, I think she enjoys that I’m a witch a little too much.” Gweneviere smiled to herself as she thought of how excited Kambili always seemed about her magic.
“What’s is it, then?”
“She’s Thomas’ slave,” Gweneviere confessed.
Poppy’s face froze for a second as she tried to digest the information. “Oh, I see… that is quite the predicament. Still, Gwen, if you love this girl, then you need to follow your heart! Do whatever it takes to be with her. Sod Thomas and his backwards views,” Poppy insisted.
“Thanks. You know… I really think she’s the one. I’ve been managing to put some money aside for myself and save up. As soon as I have enough, I’m going to take her and get out of there for good.”
“I really hope it works out for you.”
“Are you going to cry? You big softy,” Gweneviere chuckled, though she was beginning to feel rather emotional herself.
Poppy remained silent as they leant into a hug.
“Well, it’s nice to see that some things never change,” Gweneviere added, twiddling the pink-checked cloth tying back Poppy’s hair.
Poppy smiled, still a little teary eyed. “Yes… it is.”
Later in the evening, Gweneviere spent the night around the dining table with Poppy and her extremely handsome husband. They ate, drank, and played silly dinner party games. Gweneviere was enjoying herself so much, but when she caught a glimpse of her open palm clear from any rash, she soured slightly, as she wished that Kambili was also there to enjoy it with her. Poppy’s husband brought Gweneviere out of her pitying trance as he offered her and Kambili a place to stay should they ever need it. Poppy had told him of Gweneviere’s predicament and, of course, being the perfect, kind, open man he was, he had no qualms with offering Gweneviere salvation. She thanked him greatly, though hoped they’d be able to make a life for themselves without the charitable help. Gweneviere, in that regard, was rather stubborn, taking after both parents. She didn’t think she deserved help after letting her parents down, but she was determined to get her and Kambili’s life on track.
Gweneviere stayed one more day to try and make the most of her visit, before heading back home. She couldn’t bring herself to be apart from Kambili any longer, especially knowing she was alone with Thomas.
“Thank you for the last two days, Poppy, I’ve really needed them. I’m so happy that you got your happy ending with your delicious husband. I hope that soon I can live my dream with Kambili.”
“No, thank you for coming, Gweneviere. I hope that for you, too,” Poppy said, looking slightly deflated. “I’ll be sure to come visit you too at some point,” she added, trying to perk herself up.
“Oh god, don’t bother. It’s a dump compared to this place. I definitely don’t mind being the one to travel,” Gweneviere said, causing them both to chuckle.
“Well, I guess it’s goodbye, for now.” Poppy smiled.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
They embraced one last time and pecked one another on the cheek, before Poppy used her magic to help load Gweneviere’s bag into the carriage. She returned to the doorsteps of her mansion and waved the carriage off.
Once Gweneviere was too far away to make out, another figure appeared beside Poppy. They had slipped through the door and waited beside her patiently, until Poppy turned and jolted in surprise at the Crone’s sudden appearance.
“Well?” the Crone croaked.
“Well, what?” Poppy huffed.
“Don’t talk back to me, young lady. This nice life I have given you can just as easily be taken away from you,” the Crone wickedly reminded. “Now, is she on the right track?”
Poppy sighed. “Yes, I believe so.”
“Very good. You know what you have to do next.”
“Do we really have to do it? Hasn’t she suffered enough already?”
“No! My vision was very clear, she needs to go through this to tip her over the edge in order to see in the new world.”
“But even you, yourself, say that visions of the future can’t always be trusted completely.”
“You can’t go back now, girl, we’ve come too far to risk it not happening.”
“Ugh, fine! When exactly do I need to do it again?” Poppy asked, through gritted teeth.
“The first of September,” the Crone answered.
“Jesus, that’s only three and a half weeks away. Can we not afford her happiness a little longer?” Poppy pleaded.
“No! My visions have made it very clear. It has to be that day, otherwise a butterfly effect could completely change the future that I have foreseen. Now, no more hesitations. Put the plans in motion and play your part, or else you can kiss being Mrs Hammersmith goodbye. Oh, and the fate of the world’s future will be blood spilled on your hands.”
The old hag began hobbling down the driveway until her body slowly melted away with the wind, teleporting herself back to the safety of her school. Poppy dropped to the sandstone step beneath her and cried. She hated the deal that she had made, she hated what she was going to have to do Gweneviere, and she hated herself.
CHAPTER 10
The Meadow
A few days had passed since Gweneviere’s return home, and all had seemingly gone well while she was away. Thomas was calm enough, and Kambili had managed to keep him on his new ‘diet’ meaning that she didn’t have to experience his wicked touch. Though, simply being in his presence was still enough to make anyone queasy. Kambili was relieved, to say the least, about Gweneviere’s return. She had missed her deeply, even if it had only been about three days without her.
As they laid in bed together, after yet another successful dishing up of dinner, Kambili poured her heart out to Gweneviere.
“I really missed you, you know,” Kambili whispered, her lips a mere inch away from Gweneviere’s face as they laid on their sides facing one another.
“Hmm, really? You know, I had no idea, considering you’ve told me almost every hour for the last few days,” Gweneviere joked lovingly.
Kambili soured in jest at Gweneviere’s cheeky grin.
“But, for the record, I obviously missed you too, very much so.” Gweneviere smiled, before breathing a sigh of relief. “In all honesty, I’m just glad that you were safe while I was away. I’d never forgive myself if I let something happen to you.”
“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Kambili said, brushing her fingers through Gweneviere’s hair. “I know you blame yourself for your parent’s deaths, which you shouldn’t, but I definitely won’t let you think like that about me. If I do something that gets myself killed, then that’s not your fault, understand?”
“Why would you even joke about that?” Gweneviere asked.
“Okay, maybe that wasn’t the right way to word it, but my point still stands. You can’t hold yourself solely responsible for actions that are out of your hands. You couldn’t stop a whole town from trialling your mother, and you couldn’t stop a nationwide plague…”
“Thanks for reminding me of all the things I can’t stop,” Gweneviere mumbled, rolling her eyes.
Kambili smiled, cupping Gweneviere’s cheeks in her hands. “If you’d let me finish, I was about to say that what you can do, and are good at, is making me happy until the day that I do die.”
“Okay, I guess that is good, but you still could’ve worded it better.”
Deep inside, Gweneviere knew she couldn’t change the way she felt about death. How could she not be responsible? After all, she was there for both events when her parents died, not to mention she let her own father kill that poor wolf pup. It seemed that death followed her wherever she went, and Gweneviere couldn’t help but think that she might bring death to Kambili’s door next. Gweneviere tried to snap herself out of her depressive state as she listened to Kambili’s words, and focused on keeping her happy in the here and now.
