The Pudding Lane Witch, page 22
Nkechi snapped back into her body and shivered, her lips were just about to turn blue. Gweneviere mustered up the last bit of magic she had in her to warm Nkechi’s body by wrapping her arms around her and generating a little heat.
“Thanks, that feels amazing,” Nkechi said, as her shivering began to ease.
“No, thank you. I’ve waited three hundred and sixty years for a moment like that, you’re truly a miracle.” Gweneviere smiled up at her sweetly.
Nkechi had never met any of her grandparents, and Gweneviere was certainly the last person she ever expected to feel that kind of connection with, but in that moment, she did.
“It’s okay, I’m just glad you got your second chance to be happy.” Nkechi smiled, noticing the overall more joyous look on Gweneviere’s face.
Gweneviere pulled herself up and hobbled over to a bookshelf, and from it she pulled out her mother’s spell book. She blew the dust off it, having not used it in a good few years, before taking it over to Nkechi.
“Here, I want you to have this,” she said, handing her the book.
“What is it?”
“It was my mother’s spell book. She passed it on to me, and now I’m passing it on to you. It’s magic, so once I change its ownership to you, only you can read and write its secrets.”
“Oh, Gwen, are you sure?” Nkechi looked up from the book for reassurance.
“Of course, I can’t think of anyone more deserving. Now here, give me your finger,” Gweneviere requested.
“Okay,” Nkechi replied, holding out her forefinger. “Ow!” she yelped, as Gweneviere pricked it and dropped her blood onto the pages.
Gweneviere whispered a spell under her breath, and suddenly the hundreds of spells materialised on the pages before Nkechi’s eyes, and slowly became invisible to Gweneviere. There was something calming about that to Gweneviere, knowing that she’d never have to use magic again.
“Wow, that’s magical.” Nkechi chuckled at her own cheesiness.
“Now, promise me, when you look as old as I do, that you won’t have any regrets.”
“I promise, Gweneviere.” Nkechi smiled.
“Hey, I said call me Gwen,” Gweneviere light-heartedly instructed.
“I promise, Gwen.”
“Right, now, go on! Live your life! Don’t waste another second on this old fart,” Gweneviere said, having only ever looked as happy in that moment as she did back when she was with Kambili.
It was clear to them both that Gweneviere was ready to go.
Nkechi placed a kiss on Gweneviere’s forehead before tucking the grimoire beneath her arm and leaving.
Not long after Nkechi left, Gweneviere took a match and struck it, for the first time in her life, throwing it at the fireplace. She laid back on the sofa beside it, and slowly drifted to sleep as she listened to its roaring crackles.
When Gweneviere finally awoke, she was in a world much kinder than ours. She was in a world with Kambili, and whatever name that world might’ve had, to Gwen, it was simple.
It was paradise.
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A. W. Jackson, The Pudding Lane Witch
