party.
I did a private happy dance when I got home, and then rushed to tell my dad to forget about my big birthday dinner.
Halloween is also my birthday, and this year is my big sweet sixteen. Dad was going to lay on a ‘family dinner’, which was nice of him but I don’t actually like my so called family.
By that I mean my dad’s girlfriend and her son.
My mum died when I was five, I don’t remember her that much, but it meant my dad and I were pretty close as I was growing up. So you can imagine how much I resented it when he starting to date again two years ago. Not only did his new girlfriend move into our house, but she brought her son with her. An immature pain in the bum, called Duncan, who is only six months younger than me and is now in my class at school.
Dad’s forever telling me I have to make sure Duncan’s included in stuff I do out of school, but I hate having him follow me around, and I was relieved when he found his own group of idiots to hang with. Unfortunately it seemed they were also invited to the party.
Dad was disappointed about the family dinner but understanding that I would rather go to a party.
“Maybe we can all get together beforehand and then you kids could go out after?” He suggested.
Personally I had intended to spend most of the early evening getting ready so I come up with an alternative.
“How about we have the family dinner on Sunday night instead? That way I can celebrate my sixteenth two nights running?” I gave him a cheeky smile and he agreed, actually believing I wanted the family dinner. So we were all happy.
“By the way,” he added, “Your aunt called and said to remind you to go see her after school on Friday. She’s invited you to stay for dinner. She said to tell you not to forget.”
So school was finally over for the week, we had a party to look forward to tomorrow night, Sean Carrey was going to be there, and I was hoping for some decent money from my relatives for my sixteenth. Everything seemed good with the world.
I separated from Bryony and Kate at the corner of Milton Place and went to see my Aunt Iris.
Everyone in town knows Iris is a witch. Not the kind that rides around on a broomstick in a black hat, but the kind that burns incense and wears a lot of pagan jewellery. She doesn’t make any secret of being a witch. In fact, she says it’s good for business. She runs one of those shops that sells a lot of witchy paraphernalia. Books, coloured candles, silver pentagrams and crystal balls, all that sort of stuff.
Iris is my mother’s sister, the only family I have left on that side, so we’re pretty close. I’d secretly always hoped that she and my dad would fall in love, but they don’t really get on. Mainly because of the witch thing I think.
The bell tinkled over the door as I entered her shop and her cat, Lyra, jumped down off the windowsill to greet me. Lyra is generally quite unfriendly to most people, but she loves me, and twined around my legs purring hello.
I bent to stroke her, enjoying the dim light of the shop and it’s wonderful smells.
Iris came round from behind the counter and gave me a warm hug.
“Thank the goddess you’re here at last.” She said.
“I only finished school twenty minutes ago.”
“I know, I’m just eager to see you.” She walked over to the door and flipped the sign from Open to Closed, then locked the door.
“Aren’t you supposed to be open until five?” I asked, confused.
She nodded, “Yes, but it’s a quiet day, and you and I really need to talk undisturbed.”
“That sounds ominous?” I said in surprise.
She gave a strained laugh. “It’s not ‘ominous’ no, but it is important.”
We went upstairs to the flat she lived in over the shop.
Considering how important what ever it was she wanted to talk about apparently was, she took a very long time to get to the point. First we sat out on her roof terrace and drank nettle tea, while she asked me a bunch of questions about
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