A Witch Like No Other (15 page)

Pandora was amazed, but she held her tongue.
She
’
d
always seen Miriam as an independent sort of woman,
who
’
d
never take an order unless it was what she wanted. And it
wasn
’
t, but she was taking it anyway.

Dreamer couldn
’
t help feeling smug. Good.

“
So Miriam, you
planned to meet my husband here?”

He
’
s not your husband anymore,
Miriam wanted to blurt out, but her mouth was full of steak
and kidney pie. Swallowing hard, she gasped
“That
’
s why you
’
re force feeding me, right? As punishment!”

“
Don’
t be ridiculous,”
smirked Dreamer, as Pandora laughed. “Did you?”

“
Well… yes, but
it’
s not what it looks
like-”

“
What do you
want it to look like?” Dreamer quipped, still smirking.

“
Whatever
problems he had this morning are gone,” Dreamer replied. “We sorted
things out, which is why he didn’
t bother to come.”

“
Oh.”

Anger bubbled in the pit of her stomach. Ted
didn
’
t
bother calling to say he wasn
’
t coming-
didn
’
t
even care that Miriam could have been waiting a long time for him
to show up. To make things worse, Pandora said “Do you have a crush
on my dad or something, Miss Hughes?”

“
Don’
t be ridiculous,
Pandora,” said Miriam through gritted teeth: for the first time
ever, she wanted Pandora elsewhere. “That
’
s absurd.”

“
Not really, I
mean you-”

“
Hush,” Dreamer
commanded softly, and Pandora closed her mouth. “Miriam, I hope
you’
re being honest with
me.”

Miriam swallowed, the she said “I am- I
’
m being
honest-”

“
Look me in my
eyes and tell me you’
re being
honest, Miriam.”

Dreamer
’
s eyes became the only things she could see, dark
green whirlpools glittering in a void of darkness.

“
If you
aren’
t, I
’
ll know. If
you
’
re
planning to get your hands on Ted, I
’
ll find out.”

“
I… I…” Miriam
felt like she’
d pass out.
“I
’
m
not… he
’
s a friend.”

“
I can see
that. You’
ve helped him with
Pandora.”

“
Yes I have,”
said Miriam, heat rising. “While you-”

“
You know
nothing about what I’
ve been
through,” hissed Dreamer, making Pandora and Miriam recoil.
“Nothing.”

“
I know
enough,” Miriam said bravely. “You don’
t deserve Ted.”

“
Miss? Would
you like your bill?”

“
What?”

“
I’
m paying,” Dreamer said
quietly: the waiter blushed again as he handed her the bill, hands
shaking. Dreamer took the paper and looked at it, then she snapped
her fingers. A crisp ten pound note appeared with five pound coins,
the waiter yelping. Smiling at him, she said “There you go. Keep
the change for putting up with my friend here.”

“
T-thank you
Ma’
am,” he gasped, taking the
money and backing away. Dreamer frowned, thinking.

“
Miriam had
four cups of tea, each ninety pence, the lunch special is five
pounds, plus baked beans on the side which cost seventy pence, and
a large glass of cranberry juice cost two pounds…”

Pandora
’
s jaw dropped. Dreamer wasn
’
t even looking at a
menu, and it was her first time here in this town. Miriam was
gaping as well.

“
That makes
eleven pounds thirty,” said Dreamer, looking at the waiter. “Three
pounds seventy isn’
t much of a
tip, is it?”

“
What? Oh no
Ma’
am, it
’
s fine,” blurted the
waiter, his face bypassing red and turning purple. “Please,
it
’
s
the biggest tip I
’
ve got here-”

“
Really?”

“
Yes, I promise
you- it’
s no problem at all.
Thank you,” he gushed, Dreamer still frowning at him.

“
Are you sure
that’
s all you-”

“
Yes
Ma’
am it is. Thank you very
much, I-” he tripped over a chair as he backed away, then he said
“Please come again um… Miss Black!”

“
How do you
know my-”

Dreamer
’
s eyes landed behind him, her jaw dropping. The
television in the corner of the café had her beautiful face on, and
her mother
’
s as they took a call. Dreamer
’
s name streamed along
the screen, a voice saying “Please do not attempt to call
Dreamer
’
s hotline, for she is unavailable for the time being. For
further information, please go to AmazingAgnes.com.”

“
Call the
press, call the press!”

“
We’
ve got a celebrity in
our town!!”

Miriam was pleased to see the pained look on her
friend
’
s face as she said “I don
’
t want any publicity-
I
’
m on
vacation.”

“
Vacation?”
said Pandora, hurt. “I thought you was here to stay,
Mum?”

“
Darling,
I-”

Dreamer wanted to say she was staying, but she
couldn
’
t.

“
Mum?” said
Pandora anxiously. “Aren’
t you
staying?”

“
I will stay,
Pandora, after I do one more thing.”

“
What’
s that?”

“
Never mind for
now,” she said, Miriam scowling at her. She knew that look on
Dreamer’
s face: she was up to
no good.

“
And they
needn’
t know
I
’
m
staying either,” Dreamer said under the babble of excited people
looking her way. “Ok sweetie?”

“
Ok.”

“
Yo Stile,
it’
s lunchtime.”

“
I’
m not hungry,” Damon
answered, making the officer laugh.

“
What, so you
gone starve up in here?”

“
That’
s right.”

“
My Mama always
say who don’
t eat, dead. Who
dead, bury.”

“
Hey, come eat.
You still gone be a murderer after some turkey ham, and your woman
still gone be dust. Come have some.”

“
I should knock
you out, you spangled little-”

“
Knock me out
if you will, just don’
t prick
me with a knife now.”

“
You-!!”

“
Darn it,
Stile! I lost ma stud again. When you gone stop attacking me like
this, man? Am a black dude trying to help y’
all survive up in here, and this is the thanks I get?
Fine fool, starve. No turkey ham your way.”

“
I
don’
t eat turkey anyway,”
Damon replied. “I
’
m a vegan.”

“
Now shut yo
trap, Stile. You in
prison
now. You aint
getting
’
no menus up in here, you feel me? I bin
telling
’
you dis for three years an
’
you
still
aint
listenin
’
. When you gone understand you got another…” Dwayne
chuckled. “Another what, Stile? Ha, another what
’
s the name now… lemme
see. It
’
s comin
’
to me like dogs an
’
meat- just like these prisoners wid
their turkey ham!”

“
Get lost,
Dwayne!”

“
Don’
t worry man, I got it
now. Another
twenty
two
years, right? Oh darn it
Stile, why didn
’
t you tell me? Why didn
’
t you lemme
know?”

“
GO
AWAY!!”

“
Easy Stile!”
said another voice, a pair of blue eyes peering at him through the
tiny cell window. “What’
s
going on?”

“
P.C. Jones
wont leave me alone!”

“
Sarge, am
jus’
tryin
’
to get some food up in
his bony butt, and he yellin
’
at me like I
’
m his woman.” Dwayne
snapped his fingers to add effect. “Am jus
’
doin
’
ma job. What happen to
his woman again?”

Damon slammed his fist against the cell door furiously,
imagining it to be Dwayne
’
s face. It felt good, so
he repeatedly threw punches at the metal door: “Take that, you son
of a-”

“
Oh help us
all,” said Dwayne amusedly. “He finally cracked, Sarge!”

“
Stile, stop
that or I’
ll have you
sedated,” the other officer said firmly, but Damon
didn
’
t. Now he imagined the door was Ted Stone, his former best
friend. A punch for stealing his girl. A punch for having Marlon so
he couldn
’
t get her back. A punch for being the reason why Dreamer
got rid of his firstborn. A punch for everything.

“
I’
m bleeding!”

“
Oh, for
Heavens sake- P.C. Jones , go and consult the nurse.”

“
How
‘
bout
you
get the nurse
and I
’
ll stay here?”

“
Now,
Jones!”

“
Yes
Sarge.”

“
What happened
to
you?”
said George, the cell door slamming shut behind
him. Damon shrugged, nursing his bandaged hand.

“
That idiot
Dwayne made me lose my temper.”

“
He got to me
about Dreamer.”

“
Oh,” said
George, smile fading. “Ted, remember she’
s-”

“
I know. But
sometimes I feel… like she’
s
alive.”

“
What?”

“
It’
s just a feeling,”
said Damon, almost to himself. “It
’
s crazy, I know- but I
felt like I had a hole inside my heart up to three days ago… and
now I
’
m whole again. Do you think she
’
s alive?”

George didn
’
t know what to say.

“
She was
powerful,” Damon continued. “She might be back.”

“
It-
it’
s not possible,
mate.”

“
Why not?”
Damon demanded, heat rising.

“
Yes, why not?”
a voice echoed smoothly, making them jump and whip round to stare
at whoever spoke.

“
Stile, wake
up! Where’
s the ambulance, for
crying out loud?!”

“
It’
s on its way,
Sarge-”

“
Don’
t call an ambulance!”
said Damon groggily, opening his eyes. He was lying on the cell
floor, at least six officers around him.