Trisha Ashley 3 Book Bundle. Trisha Ashley
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course.’
‘It’s odd,’ Poppy said pensively, ‘but I keep having this urge to go and see Felix, though I can’t imagine why. He’s not worrying about anything, is he? He came up here earlier, for no particular reason, so perhaps he wanted to tell me something.’
‘And he didn’t?’
‘No, but I think I’m going to teach him to ride.’
‘What, Felix?’
‘Yes, he said he had a sudden impulse to try something new. It’ll have to be Atlas, though; he’s the only horse we’ve got big enough to carry him.’
‘That’s a turn-up for the books, isn’t it? He’s not usually a sudden impulse sort of man.’
Or he hadn’t been until lately. But now he and Poppy seemed to be acting strangely, as if compelled to spend more time in each other’s company, though not exactly in the way I was hoping for. But I supposed that as long as Felix didn’t break his neck falling off the enormous Atlas, who had feet the size of dinner plates, then perhaps romance might follow.
‘Have you asked Janey if she can manage without you on my birthday?’ I asked.
‘Yes, it’s fine. But what are we going to do?’
‘I’ve decided it’s time we got out of our rut, and I’ve got it all planned. We’re going to have a day of hair and face makeovers and shopping in Southport.’
‘But—’ she began to protest.
‘It’s all booked,’ I said firmly.
‘But, Chloe, I can’t afford—’
‘Janey’s paying for yours. I asked her and she thought it was a great idea.’
Or she had once I’d tweaked what passed for her maternal instincts and appealed to her guilty conscience, by suggesting it was something positive she could do to help Poppy find the right man.
Poppy was in a panic and really didn’t want to come, but she couldn’t refuse me when I said if she didn’t it would spoil my birthday, because I couldn’t go alone.
‘I need a new look, or at least freshening up a bit,’ I insisted and, goodness knows, it was time Poppy lavished a fraction of the care and attention she gave to Honeybun on herself.
‘Then we’re going to hit the shops of Lord Street and find something new to wear.’
‘Do you need something new?’
‘We both need something new, so that when we meet Felix at the Falling Star afterwards, we’ll knock him dead!’
She giggled, warming to the idea. ‘If he even recognises us.’
Chapter Twenty-six High Maintenance
Grumps was all excited about his post, because his Spanish chum had managed to translate the last bit of the manuscript.
‘It’s quite clear now that the part we have is the original Mayan invocation, as translated and brought back by the conquistadores. The rest of it, which is in a different hand, is an embellishment from perhaps a century or two later.’
‘I suppose the original charm, invocation, or whatever it is, wouldn’t have meant much when it was first brought back, because chocolate didn’t take off until much later, did it?’
‘No, the document would just have been put away as a curiosity, until this man found it, and appended a few lines of his own. As to whether they add anything to the power of the original, I do not know, but I would try it with caution, my dear Chloe. You are quite safe with the original Mayan invocation to the gods to give the chocolate special powers. The rest…well, it reads more like a blessing. The author may well have been a priest, as well as secretly a practitioner in the Old Religion.’
‘OK,’ I agreed. I don’t suppose the extra bit will make any difference, but it’s odd to think of some old coot, the Spanish version of Grumps, necromancing away so many centuries ago. If he was a priest too, then he was playing a very dangerous game.
I decided to try that blind-tasting experiment on Felix and Poppy: I’d make three identical batches of chocolate: one with nothing said over it at all; one with the Mayan incantation and one with the whole thing, including the later addition. I didn’t suppose there would be any difference.
Meanwhile, I’d just keep on using the original charm for every day, which can do no harm at all.
The chocolate tasting can be my birthday evening’s entertainment!
Digby Mann-Drake had somehow managed to insinuate himself into David’s group of local friends that he met at the Green Man, and he had invited David to dinner at Badger’s Bolt, together with one or two other of his chums.
He rang to ask me if I would like to go with him and got quite huffy when I turned him down, even when I pointed out it was my birthday and I had the whole day planned out already. Then I warned him about Mann-Drake, but he just laughed in a condescending sort of way and said, ‘You really shouldn’t listen to rumours! And you’re so terribly unsophisticated, aren’t you, darling?’
I expect I am, if the idea of dinner with someone who gets his kicks from holding pseudo-black magic rites spiced with sex, drugs and, for all I know, rock’n’roll, does not strike me as a pleasurable outing.
‘Apart from the unsavoury rumours, he’s also a moneygrubbing little weasel, haven’t you heard?’
‘Oh, that’s just business, and you can’t blame him for trying to make an honest buck! And if you were only planning on meeting your friends in the pub later on your birthday, then you could cancel that and come to the dinner with me instead, couldn’t you?’
‘Absolutely not. I’m having dinner with my family before I go out, I always do,’ I said. ‘Birthday cake and everything. And if you’ve any sense, you won’t go anywhere near Mann-Drake either.’
He finally got a bit miffed at that and said he would take someone else.
‘That’s an excellent idea, David,’ I said emphatically, which didn’t exactly pour oil onto troubled waters.
I made the chocolates for the tasting experiment: solid hearts, which I put in plastic boxes, marked A, B and C.
Strangely, there was just enough chocolate left from the whole incantation batch to mould the two halves of a large hollow angel, though I’m positive I used equal amounts of ingredients for all three!
Isn’t that weird?
I put it away, unfinished, until I wanted to do an Angel reading for someone really special.
My birthday morning started out really well. Jake managed to haul himself out of bed without being called, then gave me a lovely little white velvet teddy bear with angel wings and a lopsided silver halo.
‘I bought it before Christmas, and I think it’s supposed to hang on a Christmas tree, because there’s a loop on the back between the wings,’ he explained.
‘It’s perfect!’ I said, and reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, which he suffered stoically while wolfing down a chocolate spread toastie, washed down with half a gallon of orange juice. Then he remembered that Kat had sent me a gift too, a ‘Who needs men when you’ve got chocolate?’ fridge magnet. I thought I must use that phrase way too much…
I opened my other presents while he finished eating breakfast. Chas’s was a little book of gardening tips with funny cartoon illustrations, and Zillah’s a porcelain bell shaped like an angel. It seemed a bit irreverent, having a clapper up your skirts, but it was a pretty thing. There is generally a bit of an angel theme going with my presents, and at this