Billie dragged herself into her extension, shoved her outside clothes into the wardrobe, and dropped in her old shabby armchair. Her head was buzzing like one of Howard Dawson's beehives, and she groaned and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyeballs.
A knock came to the door between her 'cave' and the main house. Oh please, give me some peace! Billie begged in her mind. She'd like to ignore her relations - but when did it ever work?
"Sybil?" Aunt Sophia asked behind the door. "Let us in, darling. We need to talk."
The use of 'us' didn't bode well. Before Billie had a chance to come up with a valid excuse not to - or at least to prepare herself for the invasion - the door opened; and seemingly every person in her household, plus about half a dozen of cats, rushed inside. One of the felines immediately started scratching at the side of Billie's seat; and she glared at the animal.
"How was your day, Sybil?" Phee asked and unceremoniously flopped on Billie's bed.
The glare that Billie gave her sister had about as much effect as the one that the cat had received earlier.
"The shop was very busy," Billie grumbled.
Her habitual answer was, for some reason, met with a few laughs and giggles.
"Oh, you were right, she's trying to hide it from us," Aunt Hazel said to Aunt Sophia, who nodded eagerly and then gave Billie a soft reproachful look.
"Darling, it's of course none of our business–" the youngest Aunt started, only to be interrupted by Delia, who had just joined Phee on the bed.
"Hogwash! Of course it's our business! Sybil, of all people, meeting someone, and not just someone - but, potentially, the Man - is something we all need to discuss!" Billie's older sister stated categorically. "If we don't interfere at the very beginning, and don't take this whole affair under control, there's a chance it won't amount to anything! We can't let that happen! The fate of the family depends on it!"
"What?!" Billie asked, her mouth suddenly growing dry.
And there she was, thinking this day couldn't get any worse!
"Delia had a vision about you today!" Phee announced and clapped her hands jollily. "She said that you'd meet the Man today!"
"Well, not exactly," Delia drew out.
"When were your visions 'exact' anyroad?" Billie muttered under her breath, making sure no one heard her.
"But it was definitely a good one!" Aunt Thelma chimed in.
"It was after tea, so it wasn't a hunger induced wishful fantasy," Aunt Hazel added with a chuckle.
Billie suppressed a derisive scoff. Even if she believed in the whole Harewicke family magic mumbo-jumbo - which she didn't! - she always thought that there was a certain element of intentionality in how cryptic Delia's prophecies seemed.
As if the Harewicke women needed an insurance policy and an out if the opposite of what was predicted, happened.
"And I checked your star chart for today," Aunt Thelma confirmed in her usual business-like tone. "The stars are exceptionally charitable towards you these three days. They also favour Delia's Gift over others today, so you'd better listen."
Not even close, Billie would like to answer; but she knew better than engaging her Aunts and her sisters when the infamous - and dubious - Seven Harewicke Gifts were involved.
"So?" Phee asked and settled her elbows on her knees, and her chin on her palms, her giant green eyes twinkling greedily. "Tell us everything."
Another cat, meanwhile, jumped on Billie's desk and started loudly chewing on a ribbon that served as a bookmark in Billie's favourite Austen omnibus. It took all her willpower to refrain from throwing her shoe or some other light but noisy object in the animal's direction. She'd never hurt a living being, but nothing besides a threat of an impact with a household item would make the cats even acknowledge that Billie was in the room.
"There's nothing to tell," Billie answered in a low voice. "We were swamped today, and I'm tired... so if you don't mind–"
"Sybil!" Aunt Hazel frowned - and then immediately tapped her forehead between her eyebrows with her perfectly manicured index finger, reminding herself to relax her facial muscles to avoid the 'pesky untimely wrinkles,' quoting the same Aunt. "According to your sister, you were supposed to meet a man today, a man who'd make a difference in your life - and more importantly, in the Harewicke bloodline. So, we need to–"
"Who is he?!" Phee cut in impatiently.
It was endlessly unusual for her to show such lack of deference towards the older Harewickes, but clearly they all thought that the circumstances excused it, since no one protested - and everyone just intently stared at Billie.
"Who is who?" Billie asked.
She'd long mastered the skill of 'playing the daft lassie,' as they called it in Fleckney. Her Aunts exchanged frustrated looks - and all three of them turned to Delia. Phee joined them. Billie thoroughly loathed this silent communication that all her relatives were so proficient at - and she just couldn't get the knack of. Her last hope had died when Phee had learnt the ropes of being a 'proper Harewicke witch' at the age of three.
"The man you met!" Aunt Thelma barked, as usual, the first to lose her patience.
Billie was almost ready to give in and opened her mouth to recollect her woes of the day - but then she remembered who she was dealing with. She'd get no sympathy for eight hours of customer service slavery, nor for trodding through the snow to and from the Hall - and especially not for the shock and anguish of hitting a human being to their head with an antique vase of an approximate value of ninety plus thousand quid!
"I've met plenty of men today," she said, glowering at her relatives. "I'm a shop clerk. We get hundreds of customers every day, since we're a famous tourist location in the three counties. We even get visitors from–"
"Sure, sure, we all know how much you enjoy your little side gig," Aunt Hazel dismissed, with a wave of her elegant hand.
If Billie was a tad more divvy, she'd argue that she absolutely did not enjoy working in a bookshop, and that she'd love to pay her bank loan with potions and prophecies instead - but she knew better now! Her Aunts and Delia had the most consummate skill at twisting her words and interpreting her situation whichever way suited them at any given moment. Phee was too much of an airy-fairy to care.
"There is a possibility that Sybil simply didn't distinguish him among her customers," Aunt Sophia said pensively.
Aunt Sophia was trying to be her usual compassionate - read, patronising - but Billie properly didn't need any further reminders of her inadequacy today. Her head was starting to hurt, and she forcefully rubbed her temple with her thumbs.
"You're pressing on the wrong points again, dear," Aunt Hazel immediately jumped in. "Remember, you need to wrap your other hand around your thumb." She lunged ahead and grabbed Billie's hands. "I've shown it to you so many times! How hard is it–"
"It can wait, Hazel!" Aunt Thelma hissed at her sister. "Let's focus on the important matters."
Hazel nodded and returned on her spot on Billie's swivel chair. Only she could look so stylish and regal sitting on this cheap plastic contraption.
"Did any man stand out today?" Aunt Thelma pressed on, pinning Billie down with a steely gaze.
Well, one did. Three heads above everyone else, Billie thought.
"Not particularly," Billie answered. She needed a better answer, though; she was a rather poor liar, after all. "I had to deal with something related to the bookshop in the Nidhogg Hall, though. And I met Sir Niklas, and we chatted, so–"
"Oh don't be ridiculous!" Aunt Hazel cut her off. "I've done so many readings for Lady Bjornsson. They have two more children intended for them, and her love line is one of the longest and the most prominent I've seen in all my years. She's got a double Venus girdle as well. The man's not going anywhere."
"He also has only one true love in his star charts," Aunt Thelma confirmed.
"And an almost unnatural amount of good fortune, to compensate for his past hardships," Delia added. "Aunt Hazel is right, he's not leaving his wife for you."
"Well, that was harsh," Billie muttered.
"Anyone else?" Aunt Sophia asked.
Billie once again considered fessing up. She was still shaking after the encounter, or maybe from exhaustion of walking through the snowdrifts in the Fleckney Woods; and she'd been scared out of her wits earlier; and she still didn't know whether Sir Niklas would keep his word; and if not, what sort of repercussions she'd face for her bizarre, out-of-character feat with a highly breakable antiquity. And then she weighed the years of her experience with her Aunts and her sisters, against a tiny sliver of hope that she'd see some commiseration - and shook her head.
The women in the room released a collective disappointed sigh - with a note of habitual dissatisfaction with Billie's pathetic self, mixed in. There might have been a tinge of superiority woven into the tone as well.
"I'll go have some tea and read the Book for a bit," Delia said, rising decisively. "Maybe I'll find some clarity. I must have given Sybil too much credit."
"I'll do the charts again," Aunt Thelma said, already from the door.
"I don't know why we all got so excited." Aunt Hazel followed them. "It's Sybbie we're talking about. Maybe Delia's prophecies were meant for someone else. Or had nothing to do with the Man."
"Don't be too harsh on the girl," Aunt Sophia said to her sister. "She's doing her best. It's not easy to interpret her visions. And it's not like she can show them to Sybil, who's less open-minded and receptive than most of our customers."
Now, it was just Sybil and Phee in the room; and Billie threw an impatient side-glance at the youngest Harewicke, mentally urging her to join the others as soon as possible.
Phee scratched the head of the cat that was sleeping on her lap.
"Something did happen, didn't it?" Phee said quietly - and Billie jolted.