Mathilda, SuperWitch (2 page)

Anyway.

* * * * *

Mathilda’s Move to England

(Enter yummy Sebastian who is off-limits because too much my type and thus must beware.)

So, last summer I won a competition I’d entered for the hell of it, Best Brownies at the Taste of the Rockies. (I dabble in baked goods – but Taste of the Rockies! That’s big.)

After e-mailing the news to Mavis, she wrote that she was having some troubles with the café she’s run for years as café society was beginning to take over England and no one wanted cream teas and Victoria sponge anymore and everyone wanted espresso and brownies.

She asked for my help with a new menu and updated “happening” (wince) decor.

Had just broken up with Penishead Number Who Knows? in Disastrous Love Life of Mathilda and was currently feeling that I’d gone as far as I wanted to go in retail so felt that maybe a look-see into the invitation to change of life wouldn’t be a bad idea. I could rent my condo easily and Auntie Mavis told me a work visa wouldn’t be that hard to obtain (hmm) as she could pull some strings (hmm, hmm).

Life could be worse than living in a seaside town in the Southwest of England and serving cappuccinos to boys with accents. So I did it (craziness! as not normally risk-taker but maybe had a spell cast on me?). Auntie said she’d give me the top floor of The Gables and fix it up so I could have my own little flat (is very nice, with fab view, curlicue iron bed and claw-footed tub, yay!).

I had arrived at Heathrow and was struggling out of customs due to overzealous duty-free shopping when I noted that I could not spot Mavis.

What I did spot was this man coming at me (surely not
at me
, just toward me to pass me in order to passionately embrace stick-thin, sunken cheeked, freakishly tall, supermodel-esque woman behind me carrying $1,000 Louis Vuitton bag).

Oo la la. I think parts of me started quivering just from looking at him. He was yum-a-licious – tall, great hair and attitude.

He was either a fashion-conscious dickhead or gay, both of which I was deathly attracted to (alas).

Please note bizarre alternate universe of American/English fashion: In America many (not all) women have a clue about fashion and/or make an effort and majority of men are slobs (unless have girlfriend/wife who dresses them, are gay, players or are freaks). In England, the opposite is true as many men have natural fashion sense that is quite luscious and most women (not all) are either scary fashion kamikazes or don’t care at all (ack!).

He was looking at me so I was pleased that I had strict life philosophy of never wearing knockabout clothes when could be stylish with a bit of effort even if it meant sacrificing comfort.

When I was just about to pass him he said in a fabulous, deep, English-accented voice, “Mathilda.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement and even if I wasn’t Mathilda I would have said, “Yeah?”

Which is what I said.

“Yeah?” (Smooth)

He told me his name was Sebastian something-or-other (had stopped listening at “Sebastian” because no one is actually named Sebastian, that’s a bad name, there’s no way to make it a nickname and sounds very romance novel-ly/soap opera-ish) and by the time I started to listen again he was telling me Mavis had been called away on urgent business and he was asked to pick me up.

I’d never heard of him before so I was looking at him for signs of inherited Mavis traits as he could be secret love child (and thus related to me which would be disappointing). He handed me his mobile phone (which, by the looks of it, he stole from James Bond) and told me to call Mavis… bleh!

Ack!

Ack!

Wait! Wait!

Must… talk… to… aunt…

* * * * *

Later:

Had scary flashes of lights happening in eyes and lightheadedness. Went to talk to Mavis and she told me I was having a vision and to go with it (she was very excited).

Found out (‘cause saw it in very own head!) that urgent business that took her away from meeting me at airport was her waylaying baddies who knew I was coming to England and so were going to try and get me.

Further knowledge sharing included information that Sebastian was member of millennia old secret society and currently assigned as my very own personal bodyguard. He’s been watching me since I arrived in the UK.

Hand hurts.

Head hurts.

Baddies after me.

Need drink.

* * * * *

7 November

I’m still alive which feel is a good sign.

Designing interior of café with person (Wesley, bleh!) who doesn’t understand my, “I want it to look Steven Tyler-rock-‘n’-roll-cool meets Madonna-in-your-face-hip”. Auntie very open about uncertainty re: how she feels about my vision.

Currently in witch training which is very intense with meditation, herb study, chalices, pentacles, cauldron, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

Coven meeting tonight, a little nervous. Not sure I’m up for dancing naked in garden (especially since Sebastian is supposed to be watching over me and naked-dancing not my top choice for what I want him to see me doing).

Have talked with Sebastian twice since finding out he is my personal bodyguard. Have also had about twenty thousand Whitney Houston/Kevin Costner themed fantasies since finding out.

First time he came into kitchen while I was having early morning coffee (not fair time to visit anyone).

By the way, he has very sexy walk that starts at hips (mm).

He stopped close to where I was sitting at big, battered kitchen table, looked down at me and said, “You know?” (man of few words).

I said, “Yes.”

And then he did a strange thing and gave me a picture of a scary-looking black dragon and said to memorize it and whenever I was in trouble I should think about it and he’d be there.

I thought maybe there should be a beeper number or panic button just in case black-dragon-thinking didn’t work but it didn’t seem I had a choice.

So I did as he told me and looked at it (
a lot
) and memorized it and the next day he came to the kitchen while I was drinking early morning coffee and stood by big, battered table. looked down at me and said, “Forget about the dragon. Don’t think about the dragon anymore. At all. Ever.” And then he left (somewhat rude, I think).

Auntie Mavis started laughing.

Perhaps too enthusiastic re: dragon-thinking-telepathic-panic messaging practice.

* * * * *

Please note that things become clear to you when you look back. After picking me up from the airport, when Sebastian took me to his place to wait for Mavis, I was worried I’d see his boxers thrown on floor and dishes not cleaned and beer cans not thrown away. Or worse, very tidy chrome and leather-esque abode. Instead it looked like Indiana Jones’s house from the
Raiders of the Lost Ark
. Very scholarly, cozy and masculine with books and interesting junk lying about.

He left me there as had something pressing to do (also fighting baddies with aunt?) and upon some (minimal) poking around (anyone would do it), noted he had Vonnegut, Hemingway and Hiaasen but also had three bookshelves dedicated to Arthurian Legend (little scary) lots of stuff on occult (scarier) and had a bowl of stones (now think may have been runes) and other stuff didn’t know what it was until now (crystals, various talismans, etcetera).

Don’t know what his secret society’s name is as is very secret and Mavis says I need to think about harnessing my power and not so much about Off-Limits Sebastian. I say that need something to think about that is pleasant instead of bad guys out there trying to kill me.

She saw my point.

8 November

(Early, early morning)

(Wow)

I was trying to get to sleep in curlicue bed when thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Auntie has a gazillion kitties so thought one had come to visit so looked around but no kitty then saw thing again.

Was light and floaty and I started to freak out because I remembered I was being hunted by bad guys and may be bad guy trick so thought of black dragon immediately. Kept going around in circles (now on knees on bed) and trying to see floaty thing and thinking black dragon, black dragon,
black dragon
and was pointing randomly and pink pixie dust was flying everywhere…

And then thing stopped right in front of me and there she was! A faerie!!!!

She had spiky ears and curly, long, light brown hair and long, long fingers and gossamer wings that sparkled.

Yay! Faeries!

I was so excited I kinda screamed a little bit and the door flew open and then all this lilac and powder-blue pixie dust was all over the place with little explosions of it everywhere and the faerie disappeared.

“A faerie! Faerie, faerie, faerie!” I shouted.

Mavis had come to my rescue and she started running around chanting and so-mote-it-being with me jumping up and down on the bed shouting, “Faerie, faerie… stop it, you’ll hurt the faerie!”

Then Sebastian came running in and slid across the plank floors to stop right at the foot of my bed and looked around at the place dripping with pixie dust and two women running and jumping around shouting. He was so, well… normal with pixie dust landing in his hair and on his shoulders with this kinda angry-esque expression that I stopped and so did Mavis.

“I swear, there was a faerie just at the corner of my eye and then she stopped and I saw her clear as day. I swear it!” I said when everyone had quieted down.

Sebastian looked at me for a bit and then muttered, “For fuck’s sake,” (very lush accent even when cursing… mm) and walked out.

Auntie is pleased I had a visit from a faerie though she said to beware because some faeries aren’t great but most are so… yay!

Mavis said I’m coming along if I’m seeing faeries (though don’t know how I feel about that) then cleared the pixie dust with a flick of her wand and went back to bed.

Am very tired after pixie-dusting straight from finger (is taxing, that’s why witches use wands as direct pixie-dusting takes too much power and energy and leaves you weak).

Must go to sleep but wanted to write down in my journal that I saw my first faerie.

Yay.

(Wonder how Sebastian got here so quickly. Hmm.)

* * * * *

Later:

Have not seen faerie again and fear may have scared her with all the pixie dust and shouting. Or maybe they just come at night. Mental note: must research this or ask Auntie.

Mavis will not tell me where Sebastian lives and I do not know if this is a) because she doesn’t know either or b) because she fears me showing up on his doorstep in the middle of the night wearing lacy peignoir set a la Alexis Carrington Colby Dexter and making a fool of myself or c) because she thinks I may stalk him. Doesn’t matter, too busy to worry about yummy-yet-off-limits Sebastian right now.

Coven Meeting was not what I expected, very boring. Spent forty-five minutes discussing who should get annual scholarship (Penelope Custard (unfortunate name) studying midwifery) then Octavia Blackwell talked on and on (and on) about how her daughters don’t take The Craft seriously and all they want to do is party in Ibiza and make love potions (poorly).

No “bubble bubble, toil and trouble”.

No naked dancing.

Nothing.

Have meeting with plumber to discuss the floor tile in bathrooms of the café. My choice was four times more expensive than regular tiles so Mavis wants compromise. Ack!

* * * * *

Later:

Went to meeting with plumber thinking of plumbers with pants hanging down in bad ways and filthy t-shirts. Walked into meeting at café having already decided to give in on tile in favor of velvet couches.

Stopped short in door as saw Mavis with man who looked like a much less scruffy but still incredibly sexy Sawyer from
Lost
. Dee-lish-us!

And he was the plumber.

How could he be the plumber?

He’s named Aidan.

Aidan the plumber.

Am on my guard as there are no plumbers named Aidan who look like Sawyer from
Lost
in whole wide world who are not bad guys in disguise.

Decided to hold my ground about tiles.

(Pleased I wore spike-heeled, pointy-toed, killer boots with jeans that show my ass to best advantage, even if possible baddie.)

* * * * *

17 November

Am tired and cranky.

Had day of reckoning today which went very well but ultimately annoying. Want to rest, forget I am SuperWitch and go to a beach, somewhere… anywhere.

First, Wesley does… not… share… my… vision! He does not understand that glamour and style are actual draws… that people will want to be somewhere just because it’s cool.