Page 14 of The Book of Unwritten Stories

As she strolled down Summer Street the queue of people outside of the black painted Witch House was insane; it went around the side of it. Dora understood the attraction now, though she hadn’t at first, but it was truly iconic. It had belonged to Judge Corwin who in 1692 had found her and her aunts guilty of witchcraft and sentenced them all to hang. It had also been Ambrose’s family home, though now turned into a museum. He had told Dora that he hated it because of his father and Uncle George. The house was complicated, like all of their lives, but it drew her in every time she saw it and she could only hope that once she began to work in the shop opposite that it would lose its hold over her and she would be able to ignore its gravitational pull.

Sephy’s shop was busy, mainly with women wearing witch hats and a couple of tortured boyfriends or husbands loitering as near to the doorway as possible, holding shopping bags. Sephy was standing behind the counter looking as elegant as ever, wisps of her silver hair were hanging loose around her face where they had fallen out of the bun on top of her head.

‘Dora, darling, it’s so good to see you. Divine timing as always, come give me a hand, would you, dear. These ladies have been waiting patiently for a reading, and I haven’t been able to do it because the shop has been beautifully busy.’

Dora rushed to Sephy who scooped her into a brief hug before letting her go.

‘Almost everything is ticketed, but if it’s not just charge what you think.’

Dora’s eyes popped wide open at that suggestion, as she didn’t know anything about the value of the items in the shop.

‘Trust your instinct, Dora, it won’t steer you wrong.’

‘Where are Margo and Ambrose?’

‘Those two are up to no good somewhere, I imagine, but I must let them have time off occasionally. As much as I’d like them to run the place all day every day, I think they might hand in their notice. You’ll be fine, have fun.’

Sephy turned to the group of women who were lined up. ‘Ladies are you wanting to all come in together or individually?’

‘Together.’ Their voices sang out in unison. Sephy smiled at them.

‘It will be a tight squeeze, but we can make it work.’

She held open the black velvet curtain for them to go behind and blew Dora a kiss before letting it shut, blocking out Dora’s horrified face and the customers who were filling baskets with just about everything they could put their hands on.

Three hours later Sephy crossed the shop floor and locked the door, turning the sign to closed. ‘Well, that was unexpected even for this time of year. It has never been that busy before. How did you get on, Dora?’

Dora grinned at her aunt. ‘I had a lot of fun once I’d stopped panicking over what to charge everyone.’

Sephy clapped her hands in delight. ‘See, you were destined to be my assistant. Just wait until I teach you how to do readings, mix spells and do the magical stuff. You’re going to love it even more.’

Dora didn’t disagree; she was excited to learn everything Sephy could teach her.

‘Now, how was London?’

‘It was good, I felt better saying goodbye after telling them the good news.’

‘Wonderful, did you give Mabel my ache-away tea?’

‘Yes, I did, and she loved it.’

Sephy smiled and her emerald-green eyes sparkled. ‘I hope it helps, well it will if she follows the instructions. You did explain how long she must steep it for and to take it every morning as soon as she wakes, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, I did.’

‘That’s good. I’m afraid our day isn’t over yet, Dora, we have a meeting at nine p.m.’

‘What kind of meeting?’

Sephy opened the top drawer behind the counter and took out a black postcard with silver writing on it.

Floor six, Hawthorne Hotel @21.00 all of you must attend.

‘There’s no date, or who it’s from?’

‘It arrived this morning, that means that the meeting is tonight. The council of witches doesn’t announce they exist, but unfortunately, they do, and they must have a pressing matter that needs to be discussed. This is only the second time I have had to attend a meeting with them in all the time I’ve lived in Salem.’

Dora looked perplexed. ‘The council of witches, what is that?’