Witching Tree (Alice Gray Book 1)

12

Their dancing figures haunted me, legs twitching for too long before falling still to the cheers of the crowd. Plucked down like fruit from a tree, ripe from their stay in the gaol, and ready to be received by their maker.

We were to be discharged. Not even brought before the court. How could they believe one child and dismiss the other. Nine-year-old Jennet Device, true and pure, but Grace Sowerbutts at fourteen, the tool of a popish plot to punish those who worshipped the King's church?

He'd come to me the night before.

He said I should be pleased, that I could start over. He'd join me later.

That man expected me to prove gratitude for the rest of our lives.

He'd have to find me first.

My family was gone. It was time to forge a new path.

I woke invigorated and full of purpose, the memory of the dream fading before I could grasp onto it. Only the odd feeling that I'd been an actor in the wrong play lingered. I pushed it to the back of my mind. I was turning a corner. Starting a new direction in my life. I was the author of my own destiny, despite those bastards back at the priory.

Anderson's Office Supplies opened at eight thirty am. It was a small company, only five employees. I'd replied to the owner's post on an accounting forum. I had five years of experience in a large accountancy firm. I was prepared. I had this.

Dark blue pencil skirt suit, crisp white shirt, hair rolled up, and for once it stayed where I wanted it. Smiling at myself in the mirror, a professional, capable and serious woman smiled back.

As my taxi drove through the identical looking blocks of units, an echo of fear threatened to wipe out my positive vibes. Closing my eyes, I visualised the silver tree. Its sweet chimes filled my mind, pushing out all emotions other than its own peculiar gloom. Never thought I'd be so glad to feel that sensation.

The intercom brought no reply. I was early. Awkwardly so. When the owner, Mr. Anderson, approached from the staff parking lot, I'd been waiting ten minutes in the cold November morning.

"Miss Gray, delighted to be working with you," he said, his voice deep and smooth. "But what are you doing waiting outside, Anne will buzz you in."

"No problem, I was early, I didn't expect anyone else to be here yet," I replied, unable to disguise the tremble in my voice as I shivered.

"Be that as it may, she should be here. Come on in."

Great, I'd already got a colleague in trouble. Not a good start.

Mr. Anderson directed me into the building. We passed an open reception area with a high desk, where Anne would sit when she arrived. The unit was divided into a further three offices and a large warehouse area. Settled into the furthest office, I loaded the software and started by reviewing the last few months' management accounts.

Half the morning had passed and I couldn't put it off any longer; my brain needed its mid-morning caffeine fix. Wandering to the kitchen, I found that it was occupied by a short, curvy, redhead cursing softly to herself as she tried and failed to reach a bag of sugar in the overhead cupboard.

"Let me help." I reached up and easily lifted the large bag down from the shelf.

"Thanks," the woman said, turning to face me.

The prettiest green eyes that I had ever seen looked up at me. Her face was pale and covered in freckles, its roundness set off perfectly by two pronounced dimples that puckered when she smiled. Disappointment swept through me when her face twisted into a disgruntled frown.