Jade a very british witc.., p.1
Jade (A Very British Witch Book 2), page 1
Contents
Legal
Dedication
Glossary of British Terms
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A Mewsage from Raven the Cat
Author Notes - Izzie
Author Notes - Ellie
Social Links
Series List
A Very British Witch (this series of books) is a work of fiction.
All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
This book Copyright © 2018 Isobella Crowley, Ell Leigh Clarke
Cover Design by Jeff Brown
Cover copyright © ProsperityQM LLC
ProsperityQM LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact vip@prosperityqm.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
ProsperityQM LLC
1500 South Lamar Blvd, 1050
Austin, TX 78704
First US edition, 2018
Version 1.01.02
A Very British Witch (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are copyright © 2018 by Isobella Crowley, Ell Leigh Clarke
DEDICATION
For the souls who dream of making the world more magical.
— Izzie
To everyone who ever dreamed of making a dent in the universe.
— Ellie
SCARLETT
A Very British Witch 01
JIT Beta Readers
Brian Roberts
Jackey Hankard-Brodie
Robert Gould
Robert Brooks
Chelsea Wright
Crystal Wren
Diane L Smith
Mary Morris
Nicole Emens
Tonya Waldron
If I missed anyone, please let me know!
Editor
Amy Teegan
Glossary of British Terms
Most folks who come to this book are going to be from outside the UK, and probably predominantly from the US.
As such it seems prudent to explain certain things to smooth your entrance into what is effectively a foreign world.
The reasons for this are twofold:
so you can get lost in the story, and
so you can appreciate the intricacies of the world, as if it were another universe on the other side of a portal.
First off, some pronunciation, because we all hate it when we have no idea how to say things in our heads!
The first word is Bicester
This is the village I lived in, and the one where our story takes place. It’s pronounced “Biss-ter”.
The origin of it is quite interesting actually. When the UK was invaded by the Romans, a lot of our places were named using Latin and kinda stuck. Chester means camp. As in a military camp.
Bi, means two. (As in Bisexual, wink wink)
Bicester is therefore the place of two military encampments – which is also true to this day, because it has an air force base and an army base.
Ok, next word: ma'am.
In England this is pronounced “Marm”.
Not “maaaaaaam”, as it is in America. If you read it with an English accent in your head, it might help you get a feel for things.
Ok, here’s another one our US service people are going to cringe at.
It’s been a point of contention since the war when we teamed up.
It’s the title: Flight Lieutenant
In the US, y’all pronounce it Flight Lew-ten-ant.
In the UK it’s Flight Left-ten-ant.
Yeah. I know. Looks nothing like how it’s spelled. But I didn’t decide the rank. And it confused the f*** out of me when I was in cadets at school. Anyhooo, that’s how it’s said, if you want to pronounce it the British way in your head as you read.
Ok, here are some words that just need a bit of explanation. You may know some of them already.
PG Tips – a particularly good brand of tea. If it's not PG it's probably not worth drinking. Thank goodness I can find it here in Texas.
Allotment – a plot of land rented by an individual for growing vegetables or flowers. These are basically partitioned off gardens in one area, where each person has a little shed at the end where they keep their gardening tools and fertilizers. It's not uncommon for older village folk to have this place where they potter, giving them something to do out of the house.
Potter – in English 2.0 this is putter. To occupy oneself in a desultory but pleasant manner, doing a number of small tasks or not concentrating on anything particular.
Uncrossed himself – he uncrossed his legs, (and sometimes maybe arms as well).
Plonk – cheap wine, similar in quality to the 1 gallon jugs I’ve seen in the US that sell for less than $10.
High street – akin to a US Main Street.
Biscuit – cookie.
Jammie Dodgers – are a popular British biscuit, made from shortbread with a raspberry or strawberry flavored jam filling. (Ellie edit: as seen on Doctor Who, in conjunction with him telling the Daleks it was a bomb control device in a bluff to save the world from them!)
Bobby – English slang for policeman.
Oxford Don – a university teacher, especially a senior member of a college at Oxford or Cambridge.
Pavement – sidewalk.
Gadfly – an annoying person, especially one who provokes others into action by criticism.
Jumper – sweater.
Trainers – sneakers/tennis shoes.
Torch – Flashlight.
Deep conditioning hair mask – this is basically goop that you put on your hair to make it thick and well-conditioned. You normally apply it to damp hair, leave it for 30 minutes and then rinse it out. This seemed worth explaining since a number of gentlemen in the JIT (Just In Time) team quizzed it, and the non-English females, including my trusty (Canadian!) helper, couldn’t explain it either. It must be an English thing.
Row – a noisy scuffle or disagreement (pronounced like how, not owe).
Flat – apartment.
Flatmate – roommate.
Grilled – when we cook something under a grill (or the oven without the convection heat on) it’s called grilled. Sometimes this can also be a flame from above. It seems that when you use this word over here in the US it’s assumed to mean that you barbequed it, outside, which isn’t what is intended here. In the US you would say that you broiled it under your broiler.
Taking the piss out of someone – y’all call this giving someone shit, although I feel like the US expression is a little more aggressive. When we take the piss, it’s more like teasing. More friendly, I think, though I’m still understanding the nuances over here.
Boot of a car – the trunk. (Yeah, I know this from years not understanding the Black Eyed Peas lyrics and then deducing it from context!)
Estate agents – this is the UK word for a real estate agents’ office, place of business.
An estate agent is a real estate agent.
End-of-terrace – the house at the end of a terrace, which is a row of small houses, normally with two upstairs rooms, two downstairs, and sharing common walls between them.
Ayurveda – the traditional Hindu system of medicine, which is based on the idea of balance in bodily systems, and uses diet, herbal treatment, and yogic breathing.
Similarly, if you notice any other words that make you wonder, feel free to hit me up on my Facebook page: www.facebook.com/IsobellaCrowley, and I’ll add it to the list!
Izzie <3
P.S. Ellie is the Ell Leigh Clarke person you might have seen on the Amazon page… my collaborator on this. More from both of us in the author notes… ;)
CHAPTER ONE
Clarke’s Quarters, RAF Bicester
Something was wrong.
As Flight Lieutenant Tim Clarke reviewed his notes from the homicide investigation, he felt certain there were gaps in his record-keeping that he couldn’t account for.
He sat at the small desk in his barracks room with file folders open in front of him. For more than a week he’d been investigating the death of Bill Knight, a former professor who had been writing a book on the history of Bicester, England. After failing to show for a scheduled meeting on base, his body was found in a fallow field just outside the village.
He recalled his discussion with the police investigator and the forensic team. In the file folder, he had stacks of crime scene photos, and some official papers and correspondence. There were also newspaper articles and some background information on Knight. Missing however, wer e his notes about the crime scene itself.
Tim felt sure he’d taken notes on the state of the corpse but had no specific memory of what those notes said, and couldn’t find them in the files that now lay spread out on his desk and bed.
The coroner’s report is missing, too, he realized.
It had been more than a week now, and Bicester wasn’t exactly the murder capital of the U.K. Either the coroner was dragging his feet, or there was something odd about this case.
Tim thought about calling the medical examiner’s office but decided an email would be a more diplomatic approach. He opened his laptop and was about to create a new email when he saw a message from the coroner’s office that was already opened.
Strange.
He read the message. It seemed the assistant coroner had resent the coroner’s report on Tim’s request.
I don’t remember any of this.
He glanced through the report and one phrase jumped out at him:
“Animal attack.”
His pulse quickened. He knew what that meant. “Animal attack” was the code they used for an exsanguination. It was an easy way to bury the truth. Besides, it was the only sensible solution to their dilemma since there was no way in hell he could put down the real cause:
Vampire attack.
But why had the coroner written this on the Bill Knight case file? That would have prompted Tim to take certain actions. Precautions. Not least a conversation with the coroner about it all.
Tim had no memory of discussing the case with him at all. Or letting him in on any suspicions his investigation had led him to believe that it truly was a vampire attack. Which meant the coroner had come to this conclusion on his own, or…
I got too close.
That must be it, he reasoned. It certainly explained the gaps in his case files and in his memories. He must have discovered that Knight was a victim of vampirism, and a vampire had tried to cover it up by stealing some of his records and wiping his mind.
“Compelled” is what they called it. Vampires had a strong power of suggestion that could warp the minds of most humans.
Damn hostiles.
He read through his notes again looking for clues, anything that might point to a suspect, but he saw no names at all. No interviews. No leads. It was as if Tim had taken the week off.
They had taken everything important.
“Dammit!” Tim slammed the file folder on the desk.
He paced the small room, trying to think of what to do next. It was hard to think. His brain was foggy, and his thoughts came slowly. It was hard to concentrate, but pacing helped get the blood flowing to his brain. After a few moments, he found some clarity.
Tim knew he needed to retrace his steps. To rediscover the trail he’d lost. But whoever had messed with his brain and his papers hadn’t left him any good leads to follow up on.
Think, dammit, think…
The police report said that when they found the body they suspected a murder. This made sense. The body was found buried in a field. Someone had buried it. But who? Probably the murderer, or an accomplice.
But the coroner’s report called it an animal attack.
Would that fit with the known facts?
Obviously, an animal would not bury the body in a field. That had been done by a human.
Or a vampire, he thought.
Tim crossed into the small bathroom and splashed some water on his face, trying to clear some of the fog from his head. It didn’t work.
This was my case.
Tim went back to his desk and sat down. He picked up the stack of crime scene photos and went through them one by one. Something in the images would jog his memory.
One of his files was labeled “interviews.” There wasn’t much in there but photos of Bicester citizens with their names written on the back.
He’d been through the files. There was no record of the interviews themselves, but he would certainly have interviewed the locals when Bill Knight was first reported missing. Standard procedure.
According to the official correspondence, Knight was reported missing first, then Tim was assigned the case, and finally Knight had turned up dead. While this case was still a missing person’s, Tim must have conducted numerous interviews. He had probably talked to everyone in this file. If so, one or more of these faces could help him remember.
He went through them, studying each face intensely. He paused at one in particular. It was a pretty young woman in her mid or late twenties. She had fair skin, long dark hair, and an easy smile. He turned the photo over and read the back:
“Scarlett Slater, 28. Wine shop.”
I know her.
The more he looked at her photo, the more he felt sure of it. Scarlett Slater was important to the case in some way.
He set her picture aside and looked through the others.
Another one caught his interest. It was an older woman this time, possibly mid-fifties. Her features were similar to those of Scarlett Slater. A relative, maybe?
Turning the photo over, he read:
“Tabitha, aunt of Scarlett Slater. Allotment.”
Allotment? He wondered why that was important enough to note. There were allotments outside of town, but Bill Knight’s body hadn’t been found in any of them. He’d been buried in a farm field. What was the connection there?
He sensed the faint murmurings of a memory. He had seen these faces before and probably spoken to them. The fact that he had their photos in the file and couldn’t connect them to his past was further evidence that someone or something had played with his mind.
It was looking more and more likely that Knight’s death was the work of a vampire. That meant that this was not a battle against mental decline but a war against a cunning and dangerous adversary.
And Tim Clarke was trained for war.
He stood up from the desk once more and paced the small room. It was late now. He could see darkness and moonlight outside his window, which faced the central woods of the garrison.
His head felt sluggish, but his body was tense from the frustration and the not-knowing. His investigation and his own condition were puzzles that needed to be solved, but he could feel himself winding down. He didn’t quite know what to do with himself, and that frustrated him more than anything. Tim was a man of action. He liked to move, to get things done.
He thought about going to the gym, but it was too late to work out. The garrison kept strict hours for everything. Sneaking into the gym late at night would earn him a reprimand if he were caught. Plus it would hinder him getting to sleep at a decent hour.
The rec room was an option, but that was full of squaddies and he didn’t feel like dealing with them at the moment.
I could use a drink though.
It would clear his head, and might even loosen the tension and allow him to sleep. The garrison had a bar, but it would be closed by the time he got there, even if he hurried.
Tim grabbed the TV remote off the desk and turned on his television. He flipped through the channels quickly, not looking for anything in particular, just seeing what his options were. When nothing grabbed him, he flicked it off.
What he really needed was to reestablish a routine. A sense of normalcy. Every investigation was different, but this one had really interrupted the flow of his days, it seemed. Not that he could remember the specifics.
If he were honest with himself, though, he had kind of enjoyed it. He could remember some of his feelings. The case had given him a good reason to spend more time in town. He’d been hanging out at local pubs and cafes. A kebab shop, even. These were the life and soul of his after-hours drinking sessions. Not that he drank that much. Usually. But it was nice to have people around. New experiences, new friends.
Glancing around his spartan studio room, he suddenly felt isolated and lonely. These days he was all work and no play.
I need to get the hell out, he thought, and ambled to the shower to get himself ready.
+++
Slater Residence, Bicester, England
