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‘The hubba-hubba nurse with the pins.’

‘For gourds’ sake, just because you died in the forties doesn’t mean you have to talk like it’s still then,’ one of the smaller pumpkins scolded. ‘He means Nurse Howard.’

What did he do?

‘Don’t know. It was outside of Hudsbury and late at night, so the sparrows were roosting and everyone knows owls aren’t good gossips.’

What do you know?

‘He called late a few nights ago. She went rushing out and came back in tears a couple of hours later.’

‘The birds say he’s her heart feather but they both have less sense than chicks who won’t stay in the nest.’

And no one else knows?

‘He bribed the flock and threatened us.’

I see. Well, this cannot go on.

‘We did try a few subtle suggestions, but they’ve not landed.’

‘We’ll have to be more direct.’

Obviously. They’re clearly hopeless.

‘Aren’t most humans, nowadays?’

Mist wrinkled her nose with laughter. They need to talk.

‘They’re avoiding each other more than bad gamblers avoid loan sharks on payday.’

‘Ugh…’

I will get them to talk.

‘How?’

I have my ways.

If she’d believed in signs and magic like Ophelia and Rayenne did, Mia would probably have thought someone was trying to tell her something, what with the wandering crockery and hearts everywhere she wasn’t looking for them. But she just put it down to being one of those Hudsbury things… with a bit of frequency illusion thrown in for good measure.

It seemed to be working and she nearly had herself convinced. Right until the postwoman delivered two letters to her that were addressed to Ophelia. Annoying, but she could always shove them through the shop’s mailbox on her way past. If she was lucky, she could avoid having to talk to anyone.

She grabbed her keys off the shelf in the hallway and froze. Hanging next to her coat – impossibly – was a very familiar, far-too-big-to-be-hers hoodie. She stared at it for long moments, wondering how she could have possibly walked past the mossy green fabric dozens of times since he’d last been there, and failed to notice it. It wasn’t like it was hidden; it was just hanging there, one sleeve brushing up against hers as if it had no idea of the emotional turmoil it was causing just by quietly being there and reaching out.

When Aiden finally walked through the door of Glimmers without being pelted by acorns, apples or black peppercorns, or grabbed by the web, he was welcomed with warm hugs, though Ophelia banned him from the kitchen or handling any of the herbs, and he didn’t dare argue. Besides, there was still plenty of cleaning to be done. He’d managed to make more mess in those few minutes than the last time Mist had brought in a brownie.

It wasn’t easy though. The cupid in the painting sulked and made rude gestures at him every time he made the mistake of looking at it, while the pumpkins called him names every time he stepped outside the store. After a while, he dragged the bin inside instead of having to keep going near them – but it didn’t stop the one in the window.

‘You’re an idiot, you know.’

He ignored it and carried on taking down and cleansing each of the crystals he’d unbalanced with his bad energy.

‘Oi, pulp for brains!’

‘Not listening.’

‘I’m not saying you messed up badly… but I’ve met scarecrows with better communication skills than you. Talk to her.’