The Hopes and Dreams of Lucy Baker: The most heart-warming book you’ll read this year. Jenni Keer
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awesome. You’re so cool for…’
‘For an old lady?’ Brenda volunteered.
‘Yeah.’ Jess smiled. ‘For an old lady. A white witch married to a pop star.’
‘I said my mother was a white witch. I don’t follow any particular doctrine. I am what I am and don’t label myself.’
You are certainly unique, thought Lucy to herself. She took a hasty sip of her gin and instantly regretted it. Her whole body tingled as the alcohol made its way down like a slow electric pulse.
‘So, everyone knows “London Lady” and “Give Me Some of your Lovin’”, but what happened to The Yellow Crows after that?’ Jess asked.
‘There were some minor hits in the late Sixties but they disbanded in… Oh, I forget.’
‘Seventy-two,’ reminded Lucy.
‘That’s right, and after the tragically early death of the lead singer there was never any chance of them reforming. Jim trained as a music teacher, albeit an unorthodox one. Although he was a drummer, he was competent on the keyboard and guitar.’
‘You never told me all this stuff,’ Jess said to Lucy. ‘You have a really funky neighbour.’
‘Friend,’ corrected Lucy and got a cheeky wink from Brenda in return.
‘Anyway, Luce said that the words inside the locket had changed,’ said Jess, swinging the conversation back to the locket.
‘Yes. They do that.’ It was said so matter-of-factly that Lucy felt herself physically jolt. Brenda was sitting there, telling them that the engraved words in a silver locket had said one thing the day she handed it over and another a few days later. Totally impossible. She must be stringing Jess along; after all, Jess was lapping all the white witch tales up like a thirsty cat.
‘So what happens now?’ Jess asked.
‘There are some simple spells for Lucy to follow. If she carries them out, she has the power of the universe on her side to get her man. And if she wears it…’ Brenda gave Lucy a stern look ‘…there are other benefits.’
‘Fab,’ said Jess. ‘And after she’s got her man she can pass it to me?’
‘There I must disagree. The locket chooses people. Lucy will know when to hand it on and to whom. I’ve had it for sixty years and only passed it on once before, although it came back to me for safekeeping after it had done its job on that occasion.’
‘I wonder how old it is?’ said Jess, undeterred. ‘Probably Victorian because they were into a lot of charms and superstition and all that stuff. It looks kind of twiddly and old.’
Brenda smiled. ‘Older than you would believe, and Lucy will be the next success story in its long and interesting history…’
As Brenda closed the front door to them half an hour later and they started to walk down the path, Jess tugged Lucy’s sleeve.
‘What car does George drive?’ she asked, springing about like an excitable puppy.
‘Some big black thing with this year’s plate, but I don’t know the model.’
‘Is it that bloody huge Audi A4 parked outside number twenty-four?’
‘Oh, he’s home.’ This was not good news. And Jess was far too enthusiastic for Lucy’s liking.
‘Great, let’s pay him a visit.’ Jess turned left and walked towards George’s house.
‘You can’t just knock on his door,’ but her friend was already bounding towards his house.
‘Watch me.’
Lucy hovered in the background, a position she was used to, as George’s dark green front door swung open. She loitered behind a low-growing, purple-flowering hebe as if this knee-high shrub would somehow conceal her.
Jess, who normally had no problem launching into conversation, stood on his front step momentarily dumbstruck.
‘Yes?’ an impatient George snapped.
Jess smoothed down her hair and gave a small cough. Perhaps she was also intimidated by the size of him. Up close, there was an awful lot of George Aberdour.
‘We wondered if we could borrow, erm…a cup of sugar. We’re making cupcakes and we’ve completely run out.’
‘Sugar?’ he sighed. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, really,’ Jess said, levelling up to George. Well, levelling up to the wide expanse of his firm chest. Lucy knew it was wise not to pick a fight with Jess; George clearly had that lesson still to learn. ‘If you don’t have any, or you’re too mean to lend a neighbour some for the cakes they are baking to raise money for the orphaned, disabled children, who have recently had their orphanage repossessed – then that’s fine. We won’t bother you any more.’
‘Orphaned, disabled and homeless?’ His top lip twitched.
Jess put her hands firmly on her curvaceous hips, and Lucy saw his eyes survey the petite waist and slender legs of her friend for longer than she thought was strictly necessary.
‘Yes.’ Jess folded her arms across her push-up-bra-enhanced bosom and tapped an impatient foot.
‘In that case, I’ll have a rummage. Wouldn’t want to be responsible for them starving on top of all their other misfortunes.’ He looked past Jess, noticing Lucy for the first time as she half bobbed behind the shrub. ‘Did Brenda get the flowers?’ he called over.
‘Um, yes, she was delighted. It was kind of you.’ She gave a half-hearted sniff of the hebe bush to make it appear her unnatural stance had a purpose.
‘Nonsense, it was only a phone call, but on this occasion I picked them out myself. Normally my secretary does that sort of thing for me. Right, sugar.’ George strode down the hallway.
‘Oo, get him. “Normally my secretary does that sort of thing.” Does she wipe his bloody—’ Jess stopped mid sentence as he loomed into view.
‘Keep it. It’s a spare.’ He thrust an unopened bag of granulated at Jess. ‘And my secretary happens to be male, so I have to wipe my own backside.’ He nodded at Lucy, merely an acknowledgement she was there, and closed the front door between them.
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