But when I did go back to work, a couple of weeks later, and the twins were happily ruling the roost at Little Acorns, I realised this was no blip.
I ran a holistic spa called InHarmony – a play on my name, Harmony, obviously. I’d started out online, running a website that offered lifestyle advice to fellow witches – and magical advice to civilians. Eventually, I expanded into ‘real life’ and opened my spa in an exclusive part of Edinburgh. In Harmony was a sanctuary where clients could practise yoga, have massages or acupuncture. Dabble in Reiki. Learn meditation. Or have what I liked to call spiritual counselling. Clients came and told me their problems, and I cast a spell, or wrote a charm, to help.
When the twins arrived, I sold my web business for more money than I’d ever dreamed possible, and found a brilliant young witch called Vanessa to be my deputy manager at the spa. Nessa was unruffled and calm and I knew we’d work well together when I went back part time. Nessa was ideal, I thought, to run a new site in Morningside I had my eye on. Expanding the business was reliant on finding the right people to manage the branches and Nessa was perfect. It was all planned out and should have worked beautifully.
Except when I got back to work after my adoption leave was over, I had to accept my powers were definitely waning.
Suddenly I couldn’t do the spells my clients needed. The spells they were paying me – handsomely – for. I covered my tracks, getting Nessa to take on more counselling while I took care of the business side.
It was hard being back at work. Much, much harder than I’d ever thought it would be. Lou was a detective in the Edinburgh police and she’d cut her hours too, though she still worked shifts. On days when we both worked, the twins went to Little Acorns where they were looked after so well that some days they didn’t want to come home. I’d thought it would be easy, juggling work and home – after all, thousands of women did it without complaining – but it wasn’t easy at all.
I felt like I wasn’t doing a good enough job at home with the twins, and I definitely wasn’t doing a good enough job at work because of my rubbish spells.
And then there was Louise. I felt like our relationship had really taken a back seat since the twins arrived ‒ inevitable I suppose. We were like ships that passed in the night during the week, I sometimes worked on Saturdays and she often worked all weekend. Plus, I had to admit I was beginning to feel a little resentful. Because I ran my own business I called the shots. Employing Nessa had freed up my time, my brother helped out when he was around, though I did have to keep a strict eye on him, and I often brought paperwork home. Louise’s job was completely different. She was at the beck and call of Edinburgh’s criminals. If she were working on an important case she would often not come home at all. Plus there were the out-of-hours bits ‒ she always said her team came up with their best theories over a pint and a bag of crisps. I believed her, of course, but it was hard not to feel a bit put upon when I was the one bathing the twins and putting them to bed and I knew she was in the pub. Admittedly, I never drank beer or ate crisps and the pub next to the police station was one I wouldn’t dream of setting my treasured Louboutins in, but that was beside the point.
I was beginning to feel this was all too much. Lou, the twins, my loss of power. Everything. I pulled the duvet over my head and went to sleep with tears rolling down my cheeks.
Chapter 4
I went to work really early the next day. I kissed a sleepy Louise goodbye and she stirred, then opened her eyes and stared at me.
‘Harry,’ she said. ‘What’s going on?’
I gave her a quick smile.
‘Nothing,’ I lied. ‘Everything’s fine. I just want to be in early because I’ve got a new reiki practitioner starting and I want to get everything ready for her.‘
I grabbed my bag and my leather jacket and headed downstairs. As I reached the front door, I heard Finlay crying and felt a brief glimmer of guilt that I’d probably woken him earlier than normal. I ignored it.
It was a glorious morning. One of those spring days when you feel like the whole world is waking up from hibernation. For the first time in months, I walked to work along the riverbank. It was a bit longer than going along the road, but much nicer and I smiled to see crocuses and daffodils appearing along the way.
It was quiet at In Harmony. We didn’t open until 10 a.m. and the staff normally didn’t start arriving until 9ish. I had about an hour before anyone got there. I locked the door behind me ‒ I was still a bit jittery about security after some bad stuff had happened a few years before ‒ then dumped my bags in my office.
I was really proud of my spa. It was calm and quiet and I knew our clients really valued what we provided for them. It had taken a lot of work to get it established but now we were booming.
I hadn’t been lying about the new reiki practitioner. I did have a new woman starting that day. But there wasn’t much to do. I just made sure her room was clean and neat, stuck her name label on the door and filled a jug with water. Then I went back to my office and shut the door.
Coffee, I thought, as I switched on my laptop. I twitched my fingers and, of course, nothing happened.
With a heavy sigh I got up and went back to reception where we kept a coffee machine. I stared at it for a few minutes, then eventually realised I had absolutely no idea how to work it. Life was hard when you had no magical powers. I’d have to wait until our receptionist, Nancy, arrived.
I stomped back to my office in a slightly over-dramatic fashion and slumped in front of my laptop.
I needed help and the only place I could find it was online – on the website I’d created in fact.
Inharmony.com was amazing ‒ a real gem of a website. I took no credit for that. I’d built it up with the help of some talented web designers, my ex-girlfriend Natalie, and all the users who’d been really helpful ‒ and vocal ‒ about telling me what they needed from a one-stop witch website.
It covered everything from eating out to legal advice, gardening, property, health and fitness, even education, all from a witch’s perspective. It was basically Mumsnet, or Football365 – but for witches.
Now I clicked on the parenting section ‒ slightly ashamed to realise it was the first time I’d so much as looked at that bit.
I scrolled through the options until I found details of local baby groups. There was one not far from where we lived on a Friday morning – one of my days off. The twee way the ad was written made me want to stick pencils in my eyes but I knew Fi and Finn would really benefit from being around other kids with similar talents and I couldn’t help them at the moment. I saved all the information, then I sat back in my chair and phoned Esme.
‘Let’s go out,’ she said when she answered the phone. Not even bothering to say hello. ‘Let’s you and me go for a long, boozy lunch, right now.’
‘It’s 8.45,’ I said, chuckling. ‘Did Clemmie have a bad night?’
‘It’s not even nine o’clock?’ Esme said, sounding genuinely surprised. ‘But I’ve been up for at least half a day.’
We swapped sleep horror stories for a few minutes and then I took a deep breath.
‘Esme, I need you to do me a big favour,’ I said.
‘Okay,’ she said doubtfully.
‘Will you come to a witches’ baby group with me on Friday?’
‘No,’ she said. Esme was a reluctant witch and was definitely not part of the local ‘scene’ as we called it.
‘Do you want to think about that?’ I said, sniffily.
‘It’s really not my sort of thing,’ she said.
She was right, it wasn’t. But the truth was, I needed her. I couldn’t let the other mums know I’d lost my powers ‒ there was far too much at stake. We had been approved to adopt the twins because I was a witch. What would happen if anyone found out I had no magic any more? Would we lose the kids? Would Louise still love me if we lost our children because of me? What about my job? The spa was built upon my witchcraft. Suddenly I saw a future where I’d lost everything. I let out a sob, which I tried to cover with a cough.
‘Harry,’ Esme said. ‘Are you okay?’
For a minute I couldn’t answer.
‘I just really need you to come with me,’ I said eventually.
Esme paused.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’ll come. But I’ve got a few conditions.’
I was so relieved I’d have agreed to anything.
‘Name them,’ I said.
‘Will you babysit for Clemmie so Jamie and I can have a night out?’ she asked.
‘Of course.’
‘And you have to come to my baby group on Thursday.’
‘Oh, Ez,’ I complained.
‘Please, Harry,’ she said. ‘I really want you to meet everyone. And if I’m coming to yours…’
I gave in.
‘Fine,’ I said. ‘But don’t expect me to enjoy it.’
Esme gave a delighted giggle.
‘But no magic,’ she said.
‘No magic,’ I repeated sadly.
After I’d said goodbye to Esme, there was a knock on my office door and Nancy came in with a cup of coffee.
‘Thank you,’ I said gratefully. ‘I haven’t had chance to get one this morning.’
She gave me a slightly odd look but didn’t push me.
‘Beth Taylor, the new reiki practitioner is here,’ she said instead. ‘Do you want to come and say hello?’
The morning passed quickly. I never scheduled any counselling on Mondays, preferring to keep it as an admin day, so I could show Beth around and more importantly I didn’t need to worry about my lack of magic, which was a big relief.
After lunch I had a break, so I opened my laptop again and logged into InHarmony once more.
This time I scrolled through the sections – spells and charms, nope. Health ‒ maybe, but no, there was nothing there about losing powers. Witchcraft facts – urgh. Lots of rubbish for those ‘civilians’ who fancied popping on a pointy hat and lighting a few candles. Annoyed, I clicked on the search box and typed in ‘losing powers’.
Result. The first entry took me to the forum. Why hadn’t I thought of that? It was by far the most popular part of our site – a private, safe and informative area for witches to chat about anything and everything.
There were all sorts of messages from people who had lost powers after an accident, or while they were ill, or whose powers flickered on and off like lights during a thunderstorm. I read them all, and read the answers, disappointed to discover that in most of the cases their powers came back just days – or even hours – later.
I sat thoughtfully, with my fingers resting on the keyboard. I was logged in as myself on the site but I couldn’t post a message under that name, it was far too risky. There weren’t many Harmonys around.
Quickly, I set myself up a new email address using the name Jasmine. Esme had loved the film Aladdin when she was small and had always said I looked like the princess. I gave myself Louise’s surname, Baxter.
Then I registered on the site. My username was Jasmine55. My location showed as Edinburgh, but that was fine – there were loads of witches in this city and I wouldn’t be identifiable just from that.
I took a deep breath and started to type.
Chapter 5
From: Jasmine55
I need some help. Since my partner and I adopted our babies almost a year ago, I’ve been struggling. We wanted children so badly and I adore them. I love my partner and on paper things are great. But I’m not myself. My life has changed so much and everything just seems ‘off’. People keep telling me that I’m not myself and they’re right. Because the truth is, my powers have been diminishing. Now they’ve gone completely. I wondered if anyone else had suffered in a similar way and, if so, what you did about it?
I pressed send and shut my laptop before I had time to think about it. Then I went to find Nessa so we could work out the staff rota for next month.
The good thing about the spa was it was never, ever quiet. As soon as our doors opened, there was a steady stream of people coming in for treatments, counselling and classes. Or just to sit in our relaxation area ‒ a gorgeous garden under glass with a hot tub, wind chimes and tropical plants. It was called Star’s Garden after a former member of staff who’d passed away and I loved it in there.
As I walked past the door I peeked in. It was glorious today because it was so sunny outside, and there were women in the hot tub and lying on the reclining chairs. I smiled. Personally I preferred to sit in the garden when it was a miserable day outside and I could hear the rain hammering on the glass roof, but I could see why people liked it on sunny days too.
Nessa was in reception, showing round a couple of prospective members. She nodded to me to show she’d be there in a minute. I mimed drinking at her and she smiled so I grabbed her jacket and mine and waited for her by the door.
When she was done we walked to a nearby cafe and sat down.
‘Just going to nip to the loo,’ Nessa said. ‘Back in a mo.’
While she was gone, I watched the people around me, eyeing a couple of young women sitting opposite who were deep in conversation, their heads close together.
Not so long ago, I’d have been able to poke about in their minds and find out what they were saying ‒ or at least get an idea. Now, even though I stared at them, I couldn’t catch so much as a whisper. Things really were pretty dire.
When Nessa came back, we went through the staff schedule for the next few weeks, making sure every therapist had a treatment room, that every yoga class was booked into the studio, and that anyone who was on holiday had cover. Then Nessa paused.
‘I’m thinking of going away myself,’ she said. ‘In August.’
I took a mouthful of coffee, hoping she wouldn’t see how much the thought of being without her terrified me.
‘Great,’ I said. ‘Where are you going to go?’
‘Just to France,’ she said. She looked at me from under her blunt black fringe. ‘Will you be okay?’
‘Oh I’ll be fine,’ I said blithely.
Nessa played with the handle of her coffee cup.
‘Harry,’ she said. ‘I know we’ve not known each other that long. But I knew all about you long before I met you – with the website and then the spa – and now I like to think of you as a friend.’
She looked at me in a questioning way and I gave her a weak smile.
‘I think of you the same way,’ I said, lamely.
‘It’s just I can’t help thinking you’re not your normal self,’ Nessa went on. ‘That you’re in some sort of trouble.’
The temptation to just unload all my problems on to her was huge. But I knew if I suddenly announced I was a witch who couldn’t do witchcraft, the problems I had now would be nothing compared to what came after. The witchy world wasn’t hierarchical or structured but, even so, I had a reputation as one of the best. Who knew what could happen to my businesses if word got out. My plans to expand the spa into a new site in Edinburgh and maybe further afield would be derailed, that was for sure.
‘No trouble,’ I said. ‘I’ve just been really busy, with the kids and then these new plans ‒ I didn’t expect to find a new site so fast. But it’s all underhand. I mean, in hand.’ I smiled at her again, a bit manically ‘Under control.’
When I’d recruited Nessa it was with the intention that she could cover my adoption leave, and then move across to manage the Morningside salon when it opened. Now I wasn’t sure how that would work, given that I needed her so much at my side. But I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.
‘So you’ll be fine to take on all the counselling when I’m away in the summer?’ Nessa said, looking at me searchingly.
‘Absolutely.’ I lied. ‘No problem whatsoever.’
As we walked back to the spa, my mind was racing. I had a little over four months to sort out my magic. Otherwise, as soon as Nessa went away and I took over, my clients would realise what was happening. And then I’d be well and truly stuffed.
Back at my desk I logged into InHarmony again, and was relieved to see I had lots of replies to my message.
Until I read them, of course.
‘Can you tell us how powerful you were before this loss of magic?’ asked one user called WonderWitch. ‘It’s likely you’re remembering things with rose-coloured specs and actually you weren’t that strong to begin with.’
‘Oh yeah?’ I said out loud, bristling at the implication. ‘Strong enough to make life tricky for you, love.’
There were quite a few messages along those lines. I was surprised people took the time to reply to a message in such an unhelpful way, but perhaps it made them feel better about themselves, I thought.
Other people told me it was hormones and a normal side effect of giving birth. They’d obviously ignored the bit where I told them my children were adopted.
A bit further down there was a message from someone called MildredHubble. I grinned at the reference to the Worst Witch books, which were my favourites growing up, too.
‘Sorry to make this about me,’ Mildred began. ‘But a similar thing happened to my former best friend when her brother was going through a rough time ‒ I think it was triggered by the stress and I also think she was suffering from depression. For various reasons I didn’t help her as I should have. I saw her recently and she cut me dead ‒ not surprisingly. I feel awful about it, and I think helping you would be a good way to make amends.’
The relief I felt at knowing I wasn’t the only witch this had happened to was almost overwhelming. I felt tears well up in my eyes just because I wasn’t on my own any more.
‘Mildred,’ I typed. ‘Thanks so much for telling me about your friend and offering to help. I’m so desperate to get this sorted out but I don’t want to tell of my closest witch friends or family ‒ there’s too much at stake.’
I reduced the screen and started working on the staff rota Nessa and I had just put together, until a small ping told me I had a reply.
Mildred had messaged me privately on the website.
‘My friend had been through a lot of stress,’ she wrote. ‘We did a bit of research and discovered it’s not uncommon for witches to lose their powers like that.’
But I wanted to know the end of the story.
‘Did she get them back?’ I typed. ‘What did she do to get better?’
A reply pinged back straight away.
‘She did get them back,’ Mildred wrote. ‘It wasn’t easy but the first thing she did was to go…’
The message stopped.
I stared at the screen.
‘Where?’ I typed. ‘Where did she go?’
Nothing happened.
‘Mildred?’ I wrote.
Nothing.
I clicked on her name on her last message. Offline it said. Oh great. The first bit of hope I’d got, and it had disappeared almost as fast as it had arrived.
Grumpy, I slammed my laptop shut. It looked like I was on my own.
Chapter 6
From: Jasmine55
To: MildredHubble
Dear Mildred,
I’m sorry to message you, but I was really interested in what you were saying yesterday about how your friend managed to get better. I’m not sure what happened but I couldn’t see the end of your message.
Anyway, I’m not sure if you’re still checking in on the website, but I’m finding it helpful to write all this stuff down, even if you’re not reading it, so I thought I’d carry on.
It’s a chicken and egg situation, I think. I’ve lost my powers and I don’t know if I’m feeling so lost, and unhappy because they’ve disappeared or if I’ve lost them as a result of how hopeless I feel. Does that make sense? The worst thing is that I feel so guilty for feeling bad. What do I have to feel down about? I’ve got a great partner, gorgeous kids, a lovely house, no money worries. People have it a lot harder than I do. So why can’t I cope?
Don’t feel you have to reply, Mildred. In fact, delete this message if you like. I’ll never know, after all.
But if you are reading, I’d love to know more about your friend and what she did to get her powers back. It’s silly, really, because I’ve got a brilliant support network – my mum, friends, my partner – but it’s hard to tell them how I’m feeling right now. I’m quite a perfectionist, I’ve always been really driven, and admitting I’m not feeling that way is really hard. I think that’s why I’m finding it easier to write it all down, and tell you instead. Please drop me a line if you can – and if I haven’t scared you off by being so needy.
Jasmine x
From: MildredHubble
To: Jasmine55
Dear Jasmine,
I’m sorry I’ve taken a while to reply. Things are sometimes tricky at home.
Anyway, I know all about perfection, believe me. I’m a real control freak and so’s my husband. He’s properly type-A, as the Americans say. We should probably lighten up a bit, but that’s the way we are, I suppose, and we’re not going to change now.
Anyway, I’m so pleased you feel you can talk to me and I hope that if I can help you it will go some way to making amends for how I let my friend down. If I’m honest, I feel like I’ve let a lot of my friends down over the years. Family life gets in the way, you know? It’s hard to keep in touch with everyone when you’ve got little ones to look after – I’m sure you know how that feels.
Maybe online friends are the way to go? After all, we do everything else online now, don’t we? I do the weekly shop on the Internet, I read books on my kindle, I watch films online – it’s all digital. So it makes sense to have digital friends, too. Maybe we can be each other’s online friend? I’d like that. It’s easier to be honest, I think, when you’re not face-to-face.
And I’d really like you to be honest with me, Jasmine. It sounds to me like you’re having a rough old time of it, and I want to help.
I have to go now – my husband’s on his way home and I need to tidy up before he arrives. Perfectionist, remember? I’m going to have a think about what’s happened to you – maybe have a look in some books – and I’ll get back to you. Can you tell me a bit about what sort of witch you were before?
Love, Mildred x
From: Jasmine55
To: MildredHubble
Just knowing you’re on my side has made me feel better already. Does that sound mad? Knowing you understand what I’m going through and what’s happening to me means I feel better able to deal with it all.
So you asked what kind of witch I was before. Where to start? Witchcraft is everything to me. It’s my life. I’ve always been a very powerful witch and because my family, most of them at least, share my skills, I’ve had amazing support my whole life. Until things went wrong, I used witchcraft every day, in every part of my life. I use it for all the boring stuff like cleaning, finding a parking space, sorting out the laundry – you know. I’ve tried to use it for cooking but it doesn’t always work – decorating cakes is about the only thing that works in my experience. Trying to bake the cakes themselves using spells is always a disaster. At least that’s what my mum claims – she’s a brilliant cook and she never uses witchcraft to bake. My business is based around witchcraft. I use it at work every single day – at least, I did. And though my partner isn’t a witch, most of my friends are. So what kind of a witch am I? One who has witchcraft oozing through her veins. What about you?
Love, Jasmine. X
From: MildredHubble
To: Jasmine55
Dear Jasmine,
Oh, I wish I was like you. With witchcraft in the very essence of your being. But I’m not like that at all. I’m a perfectly capable witch. Competent. Practical. I don’t work any more – I’m a stay-at-home mum now – but when I did I used witchcraft most days. Only for things like filing, though. It was never the main part of my job, and it’s still not a big part of my life, not really.
I was a PA back then. I like to think I was a good one. In fact, I must have been doing something right, because I married the boss! I met my husband when I started working for him, and he soon swept me off my feet. My husband is a witch too. A very good one, in fact. He sounds a bit like you – using it every day and in every way. Though I’m not sure he’d have married me if I’d not been a witch. He’s quite keen on making sure our powers aren’t diluted and that they’re passed on to future generations. He doesn’t really mix with people who aren’t witches at all. In some ways it’s a relief that both my parents have passed away – they weren’t witches and it would have made things quite tricky for me. He was the only witch in his family, and his parents couldn’t cope at all. His dad really favoured his younger brother, even though it was my husband who was the talented one. It’s left him with a few issues about keeping to ourselves – he thinks it’s easier that way.
