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‘Getting you ready for your wedding, of course.’

‘Do you really think we can pull this off?’

‘It’s Hudsbury. Of course we can.’ She opened the door again slightly. ‘Mist? Do you want to go help Lunar now? You’re more experienced with the postbags than she is.’

* * *

Amrita felt the nerves hit as she drove up the drive towards the inn. Memories flooded her at the sight of the pink blossoms – far more vibrant and abundant than she’d expected. How were they still there?

Then she remembered: magic.

It was such a strange thing, to know this force that she felt belonged in books and films truly existed and was all around her. And that she was willingly driving back into it – even after all the pain it had cost her. She wasn’t even sure what she was most worried about: the magic, or seeing Jamie again.

But Rayenne had convinced her that she would be more than welcome. A sentiment emphasised by a warm message from Sylvie reminding her that both bride and groom, however unsuspecting, considered her a friend and would have invited her themselves – had they been given the chance to invite anyone. And Sylvie had asked her for help with a special favour – one that she’d been so honoured to be considered for, she had no idea how to refuse.

So there she was this morning, driving into a magical town, her car laden with food and gifts, and heading to see Jamie… whatever he was to her.

She parked her car – squishing it in between the chaos of other vehicles – grabbed the tinfoil trays, and headed towards the inn. Sylvie was sat on the porch stairs, next to Lily-Ann, who was seated on the grass beneath her, both surrounded by buckets of flowers and piles of ribbons they were rapidly forming into garlands and posies.

The older woman waved to Amrita as soon as she saw her. ‘Amrita, hello! I’m so glad you made it, isn’t this exciting?’

‘Morning, Sylvie. Lily-Ann. Yeah, it is. These are looking beautiful.’

‘Thanks.’ Lily-Ann held one up and examined it before adding some more flowers and binding them together. ‘Can I assume you’ve been cooking?’

‘Please tell me you brought samosas!’ Sylvie pointed to one of the trays. ‘Have you tried them?’ she asked Lily-Ann. ‘Better than any restaurant.’

Amrita smiled at the compliment. ‘Yes, I made samosas. As if I wouldn’t, when I know how much you love them! And a few other things. I assume these are going inside?’

‘No,’ Lily-Ann answered. ‘Ophelia set up cool zones in the barn. All the food is going there.’

‘OK. I should take these over. It’s already getting warm.’

‘Yup, it’s going to be a beautiful day!’ Sylvie almost sang the words.

Amrita headed towards the barn, and was greeted halfway by an older, stout woman hurrying in the other direction.

‘Food for the reception?’ She barely hesitated as Amrita nodded. ‘Just drop them onto the tables at the back.’

‘These should probably go in a fridge?’

‘Tables will be fine. And, obviously, don’t break any of the circles or disturb the lines.’

Amrita didn’t have a chance to ask what she meant as she raced off, so headed to the barn, assuming that it’d make more sense when she saw it. The building was empty but for long trestle tables at the back that were already piling up with food. Not what she’d expected – and she hoped it would all be OK in the warm air. She couldn’t see any fridges or cool boxes, but maybe that’s what the woman was hurrying to arrange. Shrugging, Amrita walked to the far end of the barn, past other tables draped in long cloths. Already stacked on the tables at the back were half a dozen tinfoil trays like the ones she was carrying, along with a mismatch of big plastic boxes, cake tins and casserole dishes – all piled neatly inside circles drawn in what looked like chalk and decorated with dried herbs and flowers, and pretty bowls filled with cherry blossoms dotted around. Unusual, and not décor she would have personally chosen, but she could see that it was pretty.

Careful not to disturb the strange patterns, she leaned in to put her trays down, only to yelp and jump back, one of the trays skittering across the floor.

‘Are you OK?’ The voice came from under a table, but it didn’t matter – she’d have recognised it anywhere.

‘Jamie?’

‘Hi.’ He crawled out from under the table. ‘Amrita. I… umm… are you OK?’

‘Umm. I think so. Are you… What are you doing under there?’

‘Table was wobbly.’ He held up a drill as if for evidence. ‘I was strengthening it. Again, are you OK?’ His eyes were warm – a soft cerulean – and so familiar that it almost hurt.

‘Yeah, it’s just…’ She took a deep breath, trying to focus on centring herself the way Rayenne had been teaching her for the last week. ‘When I went to put the trays down, it sort of shocked me and was really cold. I feel silly now, but it made me jump.’