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“Was it Gladys?” he asked eagerly and she reluctantly shook her head.
“I’m afraid not.”
“Ah well. I will retreat and return to push the boulder up the hill another day. It was a pleasure meeting you, my dear, and the offer of tea is always open.”
“Thank you. I hope the boulder rolls more easily in the future.”
He bowed his head and strolled away, moving with the ease of a much younger man despite the crystal-topped cane he carried in one hand.
“Are you coming in or not?” a voice demanded from behind her.
She turned to find Gladys standing in the doorway of the cottage, her arms folded over her ample chest. Gladys was a plump, attractive older woman with silver curls and unusually penetrating blue eyes. When Jessica had seen her in the past she’d generally been smiling, but she definitely wasn’t smiling now.
“I’m coming in. If that’s all right with you?” she asked hesitantly.
Gladys sniffed, then turned and marched into the cottage but since she’d left the door open, Jessica decided to follow her. The front room of the house was exactly what she would have envisioned from the outside—bundles of dried plants hung fromthe ceiling beams; crooked wooden shelves lined the walls, covered with an astonishing variety of objects; and there was even a cauldron suspended over a fire in the fireplace.
“Back here,” Gladys snapped, and Jessica followed the sound of her voice through a doorway, then blinked in surprise.
She’d entered a remarkably contemporary kitchen with sleek white cabinets and pristine white countertops. The only things marring the clean lines were the colorful tea set Gladys was arranging on a tray and the vines that flowed from the shelves around the window to the top of the cabinets.
“In or out?” Gladys asked.
“Excuse me?”
“Out,” the other woman announced and picked up the tray, carrying it through the kitchen door and into a small, enclosed courtyard, also lush with flowers. She plunked the tray down on a metal bistro table, then poured them each a mug of something that smelled delicious.
Jessica took the mug obediently, then sat quietly as Gladys took a few moody swigs of her own mug before finally sighing.
“Sorry. You caught me at a bad time.”
“I’m sorry. Should I come back?”
“No, I might as well get this over with. Flora told me you were coming. Said you have some foolish idea of resurrecting a ghost.”
Gladys peered at her over her glasses and Jessica raised her chin.
“That’s exactly what I intend to do.”
“And I suppose you know how to do that?” the other woman asked dryly.
“Well, no. I was hoping you could help me, but if you’d rather not I’ll find someone else.”
She started to rise but Gladys laughed.
“Oh sit down, child. No need to take offense.”
She took her seat again and sipped the tea. It was hot and spicy, and left a pleasant burn as it slid down her throat.
“What kind of tea is this?”
“Eye of newt,” Gladys said blandly, then laughed again. “You should see your face. It’s a combination of things from my garden with some additional cinnamon. Plus some fire whiskey to give it a little kick.”
“It’s very good.”
Gladys gave an almost reluctant nod of approval, and topped off her mug. The liquid was still steaming despite the cool air, but perhaps the fire whiskey was responsible for that as well. They sipped in silence as the autumn sunlight warmed the small courtyard. The scent of flowers filled the air, mingling with the spicy scent of the tea, and a bird trilled from a nearby tree. An unexpected sense of peace settled over Jessica, the tension of the last few days easing, and she was smiling when she finally put down her mug.
“Thank you.”
