Free Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered by Kerry Barrett Page B

the way. There, pinned to the back and hidden from prying eyes, was a photo of Jamie. Smiling in disbelief that it was still there, I pulled it off and stared at it.
    Jamie was laughing, standing on the shore of the loch, his eyes screwed up against the summer sun. It was taken just before he’d gone off to boarding school for sixth form.
    After we’d got our exam results, we’d spent the rest of the summer curled up in the cave snogging until our lips ached. I’d told Chloé every detail of our romance, but I’d kept Jamie a secret from Mum and when he’d asked me to meet his parents I’d made excuse after excuse. I wanted to keep him separate from the rest of my life and I certainly didn’t want him to meet my oddball family or experience any of the strange things that happened in our house. So, although he knew my family ran the café, I never took him there or met him anywhere besides the cave. I spent the whole summer veering madly from agony to ecstasy and back again, loving being with Jamie and terrified he’d find out the truth, and dump me.
    What happened, though, was worse. I’d told mum when Jamie and I became officially a couple and she’d looked very pleased with herself. But even then I hadn’t thought she’d had anything to do with it. Until I came home one day. It was the summer bank holiday and we’d had a great day. Me, Chloé, Jamie and Chloé’s new boyfriend Frankie – a Scottish Italian boy with the most beautiful dark skin and eyes – had been to the shows at Inverness. I came home feeling queasy from too much candyfloss and one too many goes on the dodgems.
    Frankie was older than us and could drive, so he dropped me off. I’d lost my door key – again – and knew Mum would be cross when she found out, so I scaled the side gate, then quietly let myself in the back door. The house was deserted and I was pleased. I planned to curl up on the sofa and read for a while until my queasiness went away. I ran upstairs and picked up my book, then headed for the lounge. But as I walked past Mum’s room, I heard her muttering inside – and among the whispers I heard her say my name. Intrigued, I paused and listened. She said it again. Then I heard her say ‘Jamie’ and I knew, suddenly, what she was doing.
    Furious, I flung open the door. Mum was sitting on the floor surrounded by pink flowers and holding my favourite top, and my well-thumbed copy of Pride and Prejudice .
    I looked at her in horror.
    ‘What are you doing?’ I said, though I knew what she was doing. It was obvious. She was doing a love spell. And by her guilty expression, I was pretty convinced it wasn’t the first time she’d done one. It was like the scales fell from my eyes and I saw myself as I really was – an awkward, ungainly teenager who a boy like Jamie would never want to be with, unless my meddling mother cast a spell to make him fall for me.
    ‘Esme,’ Mum said. ‘I can explain…’
    But I didn’t stay to find out what her explanation was. In despair I turned and fled, sobbing as I went. I was heartbroken and embarrassed and betrayed and I couldn’t bear it. Crying great big wrenching sobs – I don’t think I’ve ever cried like that before or since – I shut myself in my room and threw some bits in a bag. Then when my tears had finally subsided, I went downstairs to find Mum.
    She was sitting at the kitchen table, cup of tea at her elbow, looking white and worried.
    ‘Can I have a lift to Inverness?’ I said.
    ‘Esme, darling, I just want you to understand what I was doing…’
    But I didn’t want to hear her excuses. I felt sick just thinking about it.
    ‘I can’t talk about it, Mum,’ I said. ‘I’m going to see Harry.’ I hadn’t spoken to Harry but I knew she wouldn’t turn me away. We were good friends back then, despite the age difference.
    Mum knew when she was beaten. She got up and picked up her car keys.
    ‘I’ll take you to the station,’ she said. ‘But we need to talk