Page 4 of The Snow Witch

‘Emory Milburn.’ Meg had nodded and held out her hand. ‘I am pleased to meet you. I am not a witch, but I know that we will be friends.’

And they had become great friends; they had become as one, roaming the moors, staying out all hours, wild and free and answering to nobody. Meggie and Emory had owned the fields near Newbrough, spending hours scrambling over ruined forts and playing near Coventina’s Well. Paddling in the Burn, racing one another to the next set of trees. Sitting, talking, being one with nature.

She had adored every moment she had spent with him.

The months had turned into years, Emory had grown taller and stronger than her, and their connection had deepened into something inexplicable. One thing had led to another, and she had given herself willingly to him one summer evening by Coventina’s Well. It was what they both wanted. And it was, she knew, inevitable.

And now, they were embarking on a new chapter together.

‘Meggie Noble.’ Emory bowed. He took her hand and raised it to his lips and kissed it. ‘You are here.’

‘Of course I am.’ She sat back on her heels and patted the ground next to her. ‘Come. Sit.’

He bowed again and sat. Then he looked at her and smiled. ‘May I?’

‘Of course.’

And she took his hand and she pressed it against her abdomen where the roundness was starting to show, and the babe was starting to make itself evident to the world.

‘I want to marry you, Meg,’ he said, leaning down and kissing her stomach as her hands found his hair and her fingers tangled in it as he bent down. ‘When? When can I?’

She laughed. ‘Soon. Perhaps. You are mine, and I am yours and nothing will ever change that. But I do not need to be wed to have the world accept that we are having a babe together.’

‘Meg – you may not need to be wed, but it is the right and proper thing to do.’

Meg kissed him. ‘For some people,’ she said. ‘But not for the Snow Witch. She was always strange – remember?’

‘She was. She is. And I would not have her any other way.’

The air settled and became still in the little hollow at the bottom of the slope, and the cruel visions of the outside world faded as Meggie forced herself to relax.

So long as Emory was with her, nothing bad could happen to her.

3

NOW

It was warm and cosy in Violet’s B & B – thank goodness. A log fire was lit in the lounge, and the smell of sausage and mash drifted through from the kitchen. It couldn’t have been more welcoming and more comfortable.

‘You’re just in time for dinner,’ said the owner, a lady just as warm and comfortable as the house. ‘Don’t feel as if you have to eat here every day, though. There are some nice pubs along this road, and if you go into Hexham or Haltwhistle, there are places there too. I’m Cynthia, by the way.’

‘Thanks. The towns seem a bit far when it’s cold and dark, though. But maybe I’ll try one of the local pubs one night.’

‘It’s entirely up to you. Just let us know if you want feeding. We can always sort something out. Sorry, did you want to join us tonight? I’m just presuming you do.’

‘Yes please!’ Violet was grateful for the offer. ‘I’m desperate for some food, and I don’t want to go out any more.’ Now she was inside, she realised just how chilly it was outside. She chanced a look out of the window; even in the time it had taken to get back in the car and drive up here, everywhere seemed darker.

‘We’ve only got a few guests at the moment,’ Cynthia said. ‘A couple of hikers using us as a base, and another couple of walkers using us as a one-night break in the Hadrian’s Wall Walk.’ She shivered. ‘Savage amusement, if you ask me. Why would you want to do all that in the middle of winter?’

‘Why would you want to do that at all?’ asked Violet wryly.

‘Very good point. Oh, and we have a chap staying here who’s doing some research into his family tree.’

‘I’m doing research as well. For a book.’

‘A book? That sounds interesting.’

‘I hope it will be. But it’s rather dry and academic, so it might not be.’ Violet pulled a face. ‘But it was commissioned and I have to write it, and I’ll try to make it as interesting as I can.’