Miranda the Witch

"And why has it taken you two all this time to decide that you want to get married in a hurry?"

"I only asked her yesterday!" I protested.

"I knew that you would ask her sometime. So did both sets of parents and most of the village. I ask again - why so long?"

"You'd better answer that, Joss," said Miranda. "I've wanted you for years."

"Well... " I paused "Until Saturday evening I hadn't really seen Miranda as she is. Now I know what I've been blind to."

The vicar became serious.

"I think that you, Joss, ought to consider that someone or some people have had an interest in keeping you "blind" to Miranda. Your marriage will be a blow to them. You may not find it easy to get to the altar for the service because they will use everything they can to stop the marriage. If I could, I'd marry you now, this minute. I can't but I'll do it as soon as possible, with God's help."

"You mean they've been trying to stop us getting together?" I asked.

"Yes, they have. They've been fairly successful until now, haven't they?" he replied. "It was a good move to come to this morning's service. They wouldn't have been expecting that because it's outside your normal routine. They may not even know now that you have come together. Is there any reason why they should?"

Miranda looked at the ring on her finger. So did I.

She replied "I don't think anyone in the town has seen us together until the service this morning. No one else has seen us since Joss proposed and I accepted. The last "someone" might have seen was Joss and I leaving the Chamber of Commerce's dinner dance on Saturday evening. Then we weren't engaged or even..."

"Lovers?" The vicar twinkled again. "Perhaps they are still unaware. You two have been partners at dinner dances before, haven't you? Was there anything different this time?"

"The tango!" I blurted.

"Oh... that tango." Miranda blushed. "That was out of character, wasn't it, Joss?"

"I'll say. We danced it as if we were welded together. Anyone watching would have thought..."

Miranda chipped in:

"Who was watching? Many of the principals were elsewhere... I don't think any of "them" were in the room for that dance. None of our other dances would have warned them."

"So they might still not know." the vicar concluded. "Let's act as if they don't. I won't ask you to take off that ring, Miranda, but can you cover it? A glove? A plaster?"

"It's too hot for a glove. It'll have to be a plaster." she stated.

"I'll get one now." The vicar left.

Miranda and I looked at each other. If they had been preventing us getting together, what would they do to stop our marriage?

The vicar's plaster soon covered the evidence.

"I wish it was as easy to conceal your new relationship." the vicar complained. "It is so obvious that anyone seeing you would know that something has finally happened with you two. I have it! You'll have to go away. Drop right out of sight. Let's see..."

I realised that he was right. If we were not around we might be able to conceal everything until the eve of the wedding.

"We'd have to appear to be apart." I said.

"Yes. We've shut our shops before for Antique Fairs." said Miranda.

"But not at the same time. I looked after your shop or you looked after mine." I retorted. "It would be a change for both to be shut at once."

"We can think of something. There's an antique fair in London this week, isn't there?"

"There is nearly every week. I think there's three this week."

"So... You can go to London for the fairs - no need to say which one - and I could go antique hunting in... Holland. How about that?"

"That sounds plausible to me." said the vicar "So it should satisfy the town. You can't be seen leaving together and neither of you would take your cars to London or Holland. If you leave them behind no one would suspect that you are together."

"We'll need to contact you about the wedding arrangements. If Emily acts for us - would that do?" asked Miranda.

"Emily is a sensible young lady. She would do."

"I'll go to see her as soon as I've put a notice on the shop." I said. "Her children will be at school before I get to her."

"I'll do a notice for my shop later. We need to agree a place to meet up, carrying suitcases. How about under the clock at Waterloo?" asked Miranda.

"A bit too obvious. Anyone from this town going to London meets there. How about the steps of St Pauls? Then we can take a taxi to anywhere."

"OK. St Pauls it is. 2pm today." Miranda stopped "Holland won't do. If I were going to Holland I'd get traveller's cheques. One of the opposition works in my bank. She'd notice if I didn't. Oh. And that means I can't use a cash card machine. She'd know where I was. This could be difficult."

"Not for me. I have Internet banking. They have no connection with anyone in this town. They wouldn't care if I drew cash in Brighton or Beijing as long as there was money in my account. Why not get traveller's cheques anyway but in London? Perhaps you didn't have time to go to your local branch. Your bank account here will just show the withdrawal in London. The London bank won't care where you cash the traveller's cheques nor whether they are in Sterling or Euros."

"You seem to be getting the idea," said the vicar. "But if you are going to be at St Pauls by 2pm you had better get packing - and use different trains. You'll need to go to the Registrar's Office for the common licence. It is just beside the station. I'll set things moving for the wedding once you've completed a few forms. Then I'll work through Emily."

We filled the forms but at the vicar's suggestion we made a significant change. Instead of being married in the village church we would get married in the church in the next much smaller village. The vicar is responsible for three churches in a combined parish. The other church is just as large but he holds services there only twice a month with an average congregation of half a dozen old ladies. We would get married there on Saturday after next with just a few friends. The coven's meeting on the night of the full moon would be a few days later. If we were lucky only Miranda's allies in the coven would know that we had married. I paid the Vicar his fee, then we left separately.

***** Emily greeted the news with a whoop of joy.

"About time too, big brother. I'll fight your corner. So will Dan. He'll be pleased as Punch to be best man. I'll get both sets of parents lined up as well. We'll communicate by e-mail. The others - at least the local others -aren't that modern. I'm sure none of them are capable of hacking into a mail server - yet." I left after several hugs and sisterly best wishes. Emily had no doubt that Miranda was right for me.

Chapter 11 London and Dover

We met in London, on the steps of St Pauls, on time but only just. Both of us had found that closing our shops wasn't easily done. We had appointments to cancel, representatives to put off and events to re-schedule. Miranda had to arrange for a neighbour to feed the cat. In the end, after slipping into the Registrar's Office separately we both caught the same train. We thought that wouldn't matter as long as we weren't together. I was at the front of the train and was out of the station before Miranda had left the platform. She took a taxi. I went by underground. She got to St Pauls first.

We sat on the steps like the tourists around us.

"What do we do now?" Miranda asked.

"We find somewhere to go that we have no connection with. Somewhere that no one who knows us would expect us to be. Somewhere neither of us have been to before."

"That rules out a lot of places," she said thoughtfully. "We don't want to go too far."

We sat and listed possible places in SouthEast England to each other. All of them had some connection to one of us. We had both travelled all over looking for antiques. Almost anywhere that had an antique shop was unsuitable. We might be noticeable in a small town but we had been to all the larger towns. Then I had a brainwave.

"Have you ever stayed in Dover?"

"No." said Miranda "I've been through it, but I've never stayed there. I don't think I've even been into the town only down and up Jubilee Way to the Eastern Docks."

"Same as me. So how about Dover?"

"OK. Shouldn't be difficult to get to."

It wasn't. We took a taxi to Victoria Station and were in Dover in a couple of hours. We asked the taxi driver at the station to take us to a reasonable bed and breakfast. He used his mobile phone to find one with a vacant room and that was it. He told us that the full English breakfast at that Bed and Breakfast was worth having.

We went out for a basic evening meal and then walked along the promenade. Dover Castle was spectacularly floodlit. We'd visit it tomorrow. The ferries provided moving interest as we strolled hand in hand. Their wash rippled the calm sea.

That night we shared a king-size double bed. We lay beside each other and talked for a long time about what we wanted to do together. The coven's Sabbat was a large black cloud on the horizon. Anything we wanted to do after that seemed an impossible dream because so much depended on the result of that Sabbat. So we agreed to stop talking about the future and discuss now.

"What powers do you have, Miranda?" I asked.

"You know that I can use the transformation spell, but that is a recent addition. Most of my powers are with inanimate objects and I am best with clothing, and clothing I've worn is easiest. I'll give you an example."

I heard her muttering softly. My pyjamas vanished and I was fully dressed in the clothes I had been wearing that day. She too was wearing her daytime clothes.

Miranda muttered again. I was back in my pyjamas, she in her night-dress and our clothes were neatly folded. Mine were neater than I had left them.

"See. That was an easy spell particularly as you are so receptive to me. You trust me, Joss, so I can do almost anything to you."

Another whispered spell. I saw a flash of her naked body. I was tied inside her night-dress. My wrists were tied behind me with her bra, pantyhose was tied around my arms and legs outside the night-dress, her panties stuffed my mouth and my head was tightly wrapped in her skirt.

"You see what I mean?" she giggled. "Or perhaps you can't see at present."

The skirt lifted off my head and flew back to its hanger. The panties returned to the chair on her side of the bed.

Miranda leant over and kissed me.

"I told you I can do almost anything to you. How about this?"

I felt the wrenching transformation as she changed me into something. What was I this time? I was small because Miranda was holding me between her finger and thumb. I watched helplessly as her night-dress reappeared on her body and her other clothes neatly folded themselves away.

Miranda stretched me between her hands and fitted me over her hair. I was an Alice band. She settled herself to sleep. I enjoyed the perfume of her hair and I went to sleep lost in black glossy tresses.

Chapter 12 First Day in Dover

The next morning I woke up to the sound of the shower. I was back in my pyjamas and neatly tucked into the bed. When had Miranda changed me back?

She came from the shower room with her silk dressing gown wrapped around her.

"Morning, Joss. Sleep well?"

"Yes, you witch. When did you change me back?"

"When I woke up about half an hour ago. The shower's free now. Breakfast is in about twenty minutes. Is that long enough for you?"

"Yes" I said, scrambling out of bed. I shaved, showered and dressed with a few minutes to spare. We went downstairs to see if the "Full English Breakfast" was as good as our landlady had claimed last night. The taxi driver had told us that this Bed and Breakfast was well known for its breakfasts. He was right. Not only was the breakfast full in the sense that there was everything on a very large plate, but the quality of the food and the cooking was a revelation.

Miranda and I sat back stuffed to capacity. We would have to go for a long walk to compensate.

"Well!" I said.

"Not just well, that was brilliant," Miranda replied. "How about remaining here until we go back home?"

"We'll need to take a lot of exercise or we'll put on weight," I protested.

"I think we can do that. I'd like to stay."

"OK. I agree."

The landlady came in to see if we wanted more tea or toast. She was brunette, in her early forties, but still an attractive woman. Over her calf length skirt she was wearing a waist apron. Miranda looked at me. I nodded.

"Mrs Owen?"

"Yes, dear?"

"We would like to stay longer. Is that possible?"

"I think so. How long do you want to stay?"

"Until Friday night after next, please. That is we would leave on the Saturday morning."

"I'll just check the bookings list. Back in a tick, dear."

Mrs Owen left the room. I wasn't sure that Miranda had the date right.

"Saturday morning? We are getting married that afternoon. Can we get there in time?"

"Of course we can, if we go by car."

"But we left our cars behind."

"We can hire one, or hire a car and driver. I saw an advert for chauffeur services to London Heathrow. It would be not so far as that to get back home. We could turn up at the church by hire car."

I was not convinced but Miranda was definite so I subsided.

Mrs Owen came back.

"Yes dears, I can let you have the room until then. With breakfast every day?"

"Yes please" we chorused.

"The breakfast was wonderful," I added.

"Right then. For a stay that long there is a twenty-five percent discount on the overnight charge. You can pay each day, or each week but I would prefer that you didn't leave the whole account to the last day."

The implication seemed obvious. Someone in the past had left Mrs Owen with a large account owing.

"Then we'll pay a week in advance, Mrs Owen," I said.

"That's not necessary, dear," she replied.

"Yes it is. We want to enjoy your breakfast without you worrying whether we can pay the bill."

I worked out the amount, signed the appropriate amount of travellers' cheques and put them on the table by Mrs Owen.

"There you are. That has paid until Saturday."

Mrs Owen's reaction was odd. Her face paled. She swayed as she stood. I grabbed a chair and pushed it behind her. She sat down suddenly before she fell down.

"What is it, Mrs Owen?" Miranda asked.

"You don't know what this money means to me," she said.

"Why? We know we are the only guests at the moment but surely there will be others?" Miranda asked.

"Very few. Most of Dover's Bed and Breakfasts are used for asylum seekers. They provide a year-round income but I'm blacklisted for asylum seekers."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because my husband is in jail for smuggling asylum seekers from France. They won't put asylum seekers here in case my husband starts smuggling again."

"But if he is in jail, he can't, can he?" I asked.

"Bert is due out on parole from Wednesday."

"Why did he smuggle people?" Miranda asked.

"He didn't. But he was convicted because there were twenty people inside his truck. The prosecution said that he must have known. He didn't know. His employers set him up as the fall-guy for them. He was told to go to Calais to collect a trailer loaded with an empty container. He did. Bert checked that the container was sealed and loaded it on the ferry. When the ferry reached Dover the Immigration people had received an anonymous phone call. They stopped Bert and broke the seals to find the people. Most locals believe that Bert was innocent but he was convicted and sentenced to six months. He has served two and a half and now they are letting him out but the Bed and Breakfast business has been poor all that time."

"Why is Bed and Breakfast so poor in Dover?" I asked.

"Most travellers avoid Dover for overnight stays because so many Bed and Breakfasts and hotels are full of asylum seekers. Not only is it difficult to get reservations in Dover, but the asylum seekers put off families. Not because they are asylum seekers, but because there are so many of them. The accommodation is so heavily used that standards slip and so many people cause noise even when they try to be as quiet as possible. They don't want to cause difficulties. They just want to come to England for a new life. Bert and I are sympathetic to most of them. That did not help at his trial. He was known to associate with asylum seekers."

"How desperately did you need the money?" Miranda asked.

"The mortgage is due on Wednesday. Without it I could not have paid."

"Aren't they sympathetic? Wouldn't they give you more time?" Miranda continued.

"It is a commercial mortgage. They don't have to be as helpful as with a mortgage to buy a home. It would be the first payment I'd missed but I'm slightly overdrawn at the bank as well. The mortgage company would start asking questions about the business's future that I couldn't answer. If Bert can get a job we'll get along. If he can't we'll have to sell up and who would buy?"

While she was talking I poured her a cup of tea. I passed it to her. She took it and then realised that she was sitting at the table with her guests. That wouldn't do. She started to stand up but I put my hand on her shoulder. She sat down again and burst into tears. Miranda jumped up and hugged Mrs Owen who sobbed on Miranda's shoulder.

After a few seconds Mrs Owen composed herself.

"What am I thinking of?" she asked "crying on a guest's shoulder isn't businesslike."

Miranda giggled.

"I don't mind. It makes a change from me crying on a man's shoulder."

I looked at Miranda. I doubt she had ever cried on a man's shoulder but I wasn't going to contradict her.

"I think we ought to introduce ourselves properly, Mrs Owen. I'm Miranda. He is Joss. We are getting married when we leave you."

"I thought you weren't married or even honeymooners. You are too happy together. Sorry, you can call me Olive, if you like."

"Thank you, Olive. Now we have solved your immediate problem and you have some money for a couple of weeks, what are we going to do?" I asked.

"Nothing," Olive replied "It is my problem, not yours."

"Have you tried selling yourself as free of asylum seekers?" I asked.

"No. But I am, aren't I?"

"Yes. So why not make a point of it?"

Olive thought for a moment.

"I suppose I could but how? I've no money for advertising."

"You could tell the local Tourist Information Centres. They probably want to recommend Bed and Breakfasts suitable for families."

"Perhaps."

"We are going to the Dover one today. We'll tell them and see what they say. OK?"

"Yes. Why not?" Olive brightened up.

"OK. Then we had better get moving. We want to see the Castle today and do some shopping in the town."

"Thank you, Joss. Thank you, Miranda. Do you want an evening meal?"

Miranda nodded.

"Perhaps tonight. We'll see after that. That will be extra on our bill, won't it?"

"Well, yes, but I am a good cook and my prices are reasonable. I used to do meals in the evenings for non-residents but there haven't been any for a couple of months."

"OK, Olive, we'll be back for this evening's meal. We'll see what effect we have on the Tourist Information Office."

Olive left. Miranda and I walked to the Tourist Information Office and collected a handful of leaflets on local attractions. We asked the woman manageress if she knew of a Bed and Breakfast in Dover that didn't have asylum seekers. She stalled until we told her about Mrs Owen's.

"Of course," the manageress said "Why didn't I think of that? She can't have asylum seekers. Her husband's conviction is still fresh in local memories. Almost everyone thinks that he was framed. I'll make sure that my staff recommend Mrs Owen. Are her breakfasts as good as they were?"

We enthused about our breakfasts.