A Touch of Magic

Chapter 1: Dead

Death was so annoyingly final. The permanence of losing my Great Aunt Minty stung like frostbite. She'd been a friend, and I thought we'd shared more than just a name.

I chucked more bread at the ducks swimming on the large pond. They rushed and squabbled over the stale offerings. Breathing in deeply, the cool winter's air, fresh and alive, stopped tears from leaking out. I resented crying. But then, I resented a lot lately, since Great Aunt Minty said she'd 'chosen' me. Clearly, she hadn't, to the amusement of some family members.

Footsteps sloshed behind me in the mushy grass.

"Mum says if you want to pick out anything, you have to come before everything's binned." Robbie threw himself on the bench next to me.

I huffed. "I don't want to go back in. Can't stand seeing the cottage being violated." They'd moved quickly after the will reading. There wasn't a moment to spare when mum and her sister Tracey realised the cottage was left to a friend and not (as my great aunt had suggested) me. So much to do; so little time to e-bay.

"More like you don't want to bump into cousin Shelly. Anyway, evil Aunt Tracy and the devil's spawn have gone." He lifted his legs up onto the bench and hugged in his knees. It was cold, and Robbie never took a coat anywhere. "I'm going to miss the ducks," he sniffed.

"Me too," I whispered, more to the ducks than to Robbie. "You know, I can't believe she's dead. If someone had murdered her, I'd have believed it more. She was so... alive," I shook my head and dropped the bread bag down next to my brother. "I always thought she'd go on forever."

"She was ninety-two, sis."

"So?" I stood up quickly as the cold finally seeped through my trousers.

Robbie laughed. "You've got a wet bum."

"Great. I'm supposed to be going into town after emptying this place." I sighed, and kicking leaves like a bad tempered child, started walking back towards Jasmine Cottage. The bag of bread rustled behind me as Robbie continued his own 'feeding duck therapy'.

Great Aunt Minty's cottage had been in the family for over two hundred years and I'd always loved it. It felt magical, but then so had Minty and her 'Glastonbury ways', as Mum called them. The rest of the family laughed whenever my great aunt (known as Gam) wanted to consult the runes or tarot cards. They called her Mystic Mog because she loved cats. The cottage smelt of cats, and so had Great Aunt Minty.

As I pushed open the door and let my eyes run around the small sitting room, tears pricked again. Pride and resentment kept me from 'helping to clear the place'. I didn't want to be seen grabbing bits and pieces Gam hadn't deliberately left to me. But standing there, I felt wronged. I should've staked my claim; Gam might not have wanted to leave me the house, but she would've wanted to give me something to remember her by.

It felt horrible bending over boxes of stuff Mum and Aunt Tracey had decided to trash. I searched inside for a recognisable item that reminded me of Gam, but nothing stood out. Tracey had flouted the pre-arranged meeting time and started clearing two hours before Mum. She'd whipped off anything of value.

"You alright, my love?"

Startled out of thought, I smiled unconvincingly at Mum.

"I'm afraid all Gam's crystal ornaments have gone. It's only car boot stuff left. Want a salad spinner?" She smiled ruefully and held out a plastic bowl with a handle on the lid.

Mum thinking I cared about the will, made me feel decidedly small and pathetic.

"I've got a good box of kitchen bits we could stick in the attic, university is only two and a bit years away. Your aunt Tracey's nabbed the electrical appliances for Shelly, though, if that girl makes it to uni..."