Page 13 of The Snow Witch

She shivered, and Jake shook his head. ‘Yes. Thank God. Look, I’m sorry – it was a stupid plan. I looked the place up and I went down a rabbit hole. And I have a camper van. I didn’t want to hassle you – I know you’ll be busy – but the house is well, too quiet.’ He attempted a smile. ‘I didn’t think it through. But at least I have the van so can keep out of your way. I’ll just be around if you fancy a break from work. A meet-up. A nice cosy pub meal.’

‘As if the van explains it.’ Violet sighed.

‘Yeah. I’ll get out of your hair. Just text me and let me know where you’re going to be each day and I’ll make sure I’m not. Seriously.’ He held his hands up, feeling really stupid now. ‘I’m not stalking you, I promise. In fact, why don’t I give you my itinerary and then you can absolutely avoid me, and you don’t need to tell me where you are at all.’

Violet looked at him curiously and then a smile twitched at the corner of her lips. ‘I know you’re not stalking me, for God’s sake. It would have shocked me more had you not come. I was expecting it, to be honest. I certainly don’t have a monopoly on this place. And it’s obvious you’d love it here. I just didn’t expect you to appear today and to appear here. And I do actually want – need – some time to myself over the next few days. I have to sort a few things out in my head. I hope you understand. Oh, and work. Of course.’

Jake tried not to feel as if the rug was being pulled out from beneath his feet. What did she need to sort out? Was it him? Was she going to end it?

Was that why she’d come up here on her own – not because of the book at all?

Fuck. He didn’t want that, and he had certainly not seen it coming, if that was the case. She’d been a bit distant since Christmas; seemed to be thinking a lot and staring into the distance a lot, if he was honest. But he’d asked her what was up, and she’d just shaken her head and said work, and she needed to think about her future…

He did not want to lose Violet. Not at all.

But it didn’t seem the right time to say something. But at least she hadn’t told him to fuck off and never talk to her again…

‘Oh Jake.’ She sighed and shook her head. ‘Meeting you today was either good luck or Fate. Honestly, I just wanted some time alone to think and do some of my own research. I wanted to get away from… stuff. But I mean, now you’re here,’ she nudged him in the ribs gently, ‘I presume you’ve got a kettle in the van?’

‘You know I’ve got a kettle in the van.’

‘Good. Because I’m bloody freezing and I wouldn’t mind a hot drink, to be honest. I don’t want to walk back up to the guest house right now and I didn’t bring my car down.’

‘I can certainly make hot drinks,’ Jake said. ‘You know me. I have a permanent thermos of tea at hand. And I’m just parked up there.’

‘Fine. Let’s go then.’

There was an awkward pause where Jake wondered if he should take Violet’s hand and help her back up the hillside through the ever-falling snow, but she was, he knew, fiercely independent, and made no move to take her hands out of her pockets. So he waited until she had, seemingly, one last look over her shoulder, and then they began walking, somehow fell into step together and headed back the way he’d come.

He didn’t mind admitting that he was glad to see the back of Coventina’s Well today – and he was even more relieved to get beyond that damned stream as well.

8

THEN

Meggie wandered along the banks of the Dene Burn, the small stream that ran from Coventina’s Well down past her cottage and through Newbrough, and made her way up towards the Sacred Well. Here, she could breathe. If only she could live out here, even further from the village than she already did. Coventina would understand; she would welcome her.

She and Emory could sleep amongst the stars and make wild, abandoned love under the moon. She rested her hand on the mound of her stomach again. That was, indeed, how this little one had come into being. Blessed by Coventina and the four winds on a warm, sultry midsummer eve.

A low cloud was settled above the Burn, sitting in the valley opposite the Temple of Mithras where some of the men who built the fort used to worship, but it was all derelict now. Meggie’s grandmother had told her that Coventina, the goddess she so loved, who she was certain was embodied in every breath of spring as the snow melted, was a Roman water nymph, as well as a river goddess. Meggie felt it in her soul that she had a connection with the goddess; it was here, at the Sacred Well, at one with the earth and the water, where she felt she belonged. Her mind was more settled here, her desire to escape from the confines of her cottage and the village satisfied, even momentarily.

In the depths of a Northumbrian winter, when everything was white and frozen and there seemed to be no end to it, Meggie made her way through snowdrifts and ice and prayed to Coventina. Meggie gave offerings to the goddess, raised her arms to heaven and asked the goddess for help; and Coventina always melted the snow and ice and made the rivers flow. She ended Beira, the goddess of winter’s, hold and brought spring to the countryside.

Meg was aware that the more fanciful rumours in the village suggested she knew instinctively about the ancient gods and goddesses, about herbs and healing and childbirth. They did not bother to think that she had learned it from her family – it was more exciting to whisper that she was magical.

The thought was so preposterous, it made her laugh.

The villagers didn’t know, couldn’t know, that everything was written down in that book, hidden under a loose flagstone.

There were recipes to both heal and harm, but she would rarely work with the poisons nature provided unless she needed a tiny amount to enhance something that was made for a better purpose, and then it would be the barest amount. Belladonna, foxglove, angel’s trumpet, devil’s helmet, hemlock, mugwort…

Mugwort.

The smile slid off her face as she looked at her basket. In there was the beginnings of the draught she would give to Alice.

Today, the first snows of winter were drifting in, and Meggie would set herself up in the shelter of the wall which surrounded the Well and work within its confines. She looked up at the sky and knew that soon, the world would be white. She would ask Coventina that she was gentle to them this season. There were two babes due in the village before the season turned into spring: Meg wanted Coventina’s guidance and protection to help the mothers. Despite what the gossips had said today, Meggie would always be called to assist the women at that time, and she silently blessed each babe as they entered the world. They could do worse than be baptised into the Christian faith, as well as be blessed into Meggie’s faith. Nature and God were both powerful…

But today, despite the inner peace Meggie found at Coventina’s Well, it was difficult to settle to her work. After hearing the women speaking in the village, their comments twisted around her mind like yarn on a spinning wheel. Witchcraft was a popular subject. Only last week, the same women had been speaking of the dark arts. Animal sacrifice. Wishing ill on fellow human beings.