Agatha looked down in amazement at the tiny creature who’d thrown open the door. A small hand wrapped itself round the bottom of her skirt, and she found herself dragged out of the rain and into a warm kitchen. Too tired and miserable to protest, she let the creature (a brownie perhaps, she wasn’t sure) steer her toward a big scrubbed table in the middle of the room. Dropping her suitcase and very aware she was dripping water all over the immaculate kitchen floor, Agatha sank into the wooden chair, and looked around.
A huge fireplace stood opposite her, with a fire roaring in the hearth. She could see pots and pans for cooking, and crockery piled high on shelves on either side. The kitchen smelled of fresh bread and soap suds, and she realised with a start that the tiny creature had placed a plate of warm bread and cheese in front of her.
“You’d like a cup of tea to warm you up?” it whispered, more of a question than a statement. Agatha nodded, feeling dazed. The brownie (she was sure now that’s what it was, but weren’t they supposed to hide from people?) was hoisting a huge iron kettle into the the fire, when the door on the other side of the room opened and a rosy faced woman of about Agatha’s age stepped in.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Flora found you did she, my darlin?” she asked as she bustled over to the table and sat down opposite Agatha, “Welcome to Spellhaven. I’m Mrs Kirk. You just sit here with us for a wee while and dry off. You’ll need your strength for meeting the Mistress that’s for sure, get that food down you too.”
The brownie staggered over to the table clutching a mug of tea which looked huge in her little hands, and stood on tiptoe to place it on the table. Agatha took a sip and almost sighed out loud as she felt the warmth of the liquid spread through her.
“I don’t understand” she said weakly, “Am I in the wrong place? I thought this was the Witch’s Retirement Home?”
“Oh it is” Mrs Kirk beamed, “you just made it to us here in the kitchen instead of right to the front door, and good thing you did too! The storm’s put the Mistress in a terrible mood, so you’re best steering clear of her for a while.”
Agatha pulled a damp, crumpled letter from the pocket of her cloak and looked at the signature.
“Estella Starborn, it says here. Is that the Mistress? My nephew knows her, he arranged for me to come here.”
“It’s always a nephew (or a husband) my dear” Mrs Kirk said, huffing “but yes, that’s the Mistress. Runs the Home, she does. Flora and me have been here since her Mother’s time. A wonderful woman, Soraya Starborn was. We do our best to keep things-“
Mrs Kirk didn’t get to finish her sentence, because at the moment the door opened again and a tall man with dark hair falling into his eyes rushed in, clearly out of breath.
“She’s shouting for you Mrs Kirk, you best go”