The Shopping Spree Begins
Moonette heard the door to her beach house creak open and then click closed. Was it six o’clock already? She glanced at the clock, then quickly took her arm and swept the several miniature silver credit cards off of her desk top and into the top drawer before....
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She and Marcus had spent the last eight hours closeted with the senior Healer from La Ville; the island's equivalent of St Mungo's, the Potion Mistress, and the Légion, as they tried to separate out Sirius from Napier.
The sun was dispersing the early morning mist, wreathing St Hélyi with speckles of flashing colour as they stood for a moment, delighting in the fresh air.
“Many happy returns of the day,” Hazel murmured, glad of Marcus’s arm around her. She hadn’t felt this dead tired in… oh, all of two weeks.
He chuckled. “Mèrcie, ma chiéthe but you’re about eleven months early.”
Hazel relaxed into a smile. “Not you, Amamama. There should be a Portkey waiting for me at home.”
Very briefly, Marcus stiffened. “Another party?”
There was no inflection in his normally supple voice and Hazel drew the appropriate conclusion: ‘what-the-devil-has-she-got-us-into-this-time?’ “Not this time.” She snorted softly at the perceptible relaxation of his shoulders. “No, Moonette came up with something else.” She wiped a slightly shaky hand over her eyes. “I thought I’d ask Liette if she’d like to come.”
Then she caught herself and tried to recall where she was up to in his re-write.
Marcus held her away and regarded her quizzically. “Not me?” His eyes were more blue than green, echoing the January sky. “Interesting. Why not?”
“Because you wouldn’t enjoy it, you’d get bored and then I’d feel guilty, and we’d end up sniping at each other, which wouldn’t be much fun for either of us. Honestly.” No comment on Liette. That suggested he hadn’t yet fallen for her.
His gaze became shrewd as it flicked between her eyes, which were probably not a pretty sight. “I wouldn’t enjoy it, get bored… Therefore, you’re going shopping.”
“Yes, and the way I feel it’ll take a miracle to make me presentable and stop me sleep-walking through Lorizelle.” Hazel didn’t expect what happened next.
“Lorizelle? You’ve got a Portkey to Lorizelle? Seriously?”
Hazel blinked. Marcus sounded… enthusiastic. Surely not. “Yes. Moonette arranged it through Oliver Wood. We’re each treating Amamama to something she’d really like. St Mags gave her wings so she’s a winged hulder now-that’s a-”
“I know what a hulder is, ma chiéthe.”
“You do?” Astonishing. Another random fact to add to his character profile.
“Véthe-dgia.” His voice had changed, taken on a decisive tone. A quick glance left and right took in those moving around the capitol, even at this hour and then he led her away with such long strides that she had to jog to keep up with him. “You’re quite right -we both need a few hours sleep before visiting Lorizelle. Wouldn’t want to miss anything.” He grinned at her over his shoulder. “And I have the answer.”
Everything turned; squashing, squeezing pressure that ended in a ‘pop’.
The boatyard. Hazel swallowed hard to equalise her ears. She felt slightly sick. Lack of sleep took her that way. “Marcus? Stop a minute.” A veritable dragon-hoard of bedding and pillows appeared before the fire and arranged themselves neatly. “What answer? What are you…”
His t-shirt hit the floor and Hazel forgot about being tired.
“Shoes off and come and lie down.”
It wasn’t a hardship to flop down beside him. The cold glitter of a fine golden chain caught her closing eyes as Marcus lifted her head and settled close beside her
His father’s Time-Turner. So that was what he meant. There really was time to spare. With a happy sigh, she let sleep take her.
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