Mrs. Braithwaite, Part I free porn video

This is a kind of 'prequel' to Mrs. Braithwaite, part II. A witch finds a magic book and plans a method to loosen the grip of her coven's dangerous leader. Mrs. Braithwaite, Part I By Geneva The woman hesitated as she crossed the street. What would his reaction be? Her own? She was aware of a slight fluttering in her stomach, an echo of her feelings when they first began meeting all those years ago. She had already checked her make-up in her compact mirror before she had got out of the car, but she checked her whole reflection once more in a shop window. She was glad she had decided to wear one of her smarter outfits: a tailored black and white checked jacket and black skirt, over a crisp white blouse and with black shoes. There he was, standing outside the restaurant. She smoothed her skirt once more over her hips, wondering why she had decided to wear her firmest girdle, and took a deep breath. She had not felt so nervous for some time. A slight shock briefly passed over his face when he noticed her approach. "How have you been, Albert?" she asked hoping her voice did not reveal the fluttering in her stomach. "Quite well, Martha, thanks." He was surprised to see her hand extended to him. Then, as he went to shake her hand, she pulled him to her. He hesitatingly brushed her cheek with his lips, not now as a lover, but more as an old acquaintance. His stomach lurched at the memory of past days. "Shall we go inside then?" She even smiled at him. He opened the door and motioned for her to go in. The small restaurant was not very busy and they were led to a table almost immediately. They were seated at a side window, overlooking the grey city. A rain shower had passed, leaving the air clean, but it would not last long. The smoke from the mills would soon drift along the valley again. They were grey and unsightly, but a vital part of the economy of the area Albert recovered his composure. "And how have you been, Martha? It must be about three years now since we...parted. You're looking well." "Thank you. You are looking well too, Albert," she began. "I hope you have been well. How is work?" Albert smiled." I'm getting on well. I'm head of my section now, we've been getting good results with our project, and there are lots of contracts in sight. In fact the boss hinted there's another promotion in the works for me." He gave a fleeting smile. "The extra money will be welcome too. I've bought a house over in that estate at the moor edge, too. You see, Martha, I'm getting married again." His voice was now more hesitant, as if expecting some censure, but Martha only smiled. She looked at him with affection, but yet with a certain reserve and wistfulness. "I'm so glad. You were a good husband to me for ten years. I'm sorry things did not work out. Your new wife will be a lucky woman. Who is she? Do you want to tell me about her?" Albert now gave a broader smile. "Her name is Inge. She's German. I met her last year when the firm sent me over to Dusseldorf for some training on new equipment. Inge was a technician in the firm I was visiting there and we hit it off. I went back over to visit her two months or so after I got back to England, and our feelings for each other were still as strong. I asked her to marry me a month ago and we will be tying the knot in another two months. We'll get married in Germany, but of course we'll be living here in England." "How do you think she'll adjust to England? After all, the war is barely ten years over." Albert shrugged. "There may be difficulties, but it's time to put that behind us. Anyway, I love her." He leaned over and took her hand in a gesture of a little more than friendship. "Now you, Martha. How are you really? You didn't reply before. Or don't you want to talk about it?" "I'm sorry, Albert, I didn't mean to be evasive. But first, one question, does Inge know you were married before?" "Yes, I told her, but I only said we had decided we were not suited to each other, and parted amicably. I didn't go further than that." Martha smiled. "Thank you, Albert. Now, in reply to your question, I'm doing well too. When we separated, I worked for a bit as a secretary at first, but that money I got from my parents when they died, I invested it. I was lucky in my choices, and what with some property and housing booms I made quite a lot. In fact I don't need to work as a secretary any more. Just managing all my investments and properties keeps me quite busy. You might say I'm doing very well. I'm sorry, Albert, that sounds like boasting." "Well, you always were smart, Martha, and you've got your head on right, and then the way... you could foresee how things would happen... I supposed that helped with your investments?" "Yes, I think it did, but sometimes my powers are not that all specific." "Do you foresee anyone in your future? A man, I mean." He hesitated, "I'm sorry, that was rude of me to ask." "No, Albert, that's quite all right. No, I don't think that it would be appropriate for me to get some man in my life given my... my activities. You especially should know. I know you were frightened, Albert." She dropped her voice. "And then, when you found out that there were others like me, and I was in a coven, well, I understand. I'm sorry for what you endured. It's not that I don't miss the company of men, or making love or even only cuddling someone. I loved being married to you. I miss the intimacy and the affection, but being in the coven..." She gave a rueful smile." I made my choice and I must live with it. I'm satisfied I made the right decision. I suppose it's like being a nun, except," Martha's voice dropped, "I'm in a witches' coven instead of a monastery." She gave a slight blush. They were watching each other as they spoke about the past and the present. For over ten years each had known the other, slept with them, made love, watched each other over the breakfast and dinner tables, known each other's small habits. They were still fairly young, Albert was in his mid thirties and just beginning to show a few grey hairs at his temples. Martha had just turned thirty two. Her hair was still as dark as when she was a girl. It shone with health. Her dark eyes sparkled. Albert noticed Martha's smart outfit. She had shown good taste in clothing when they were married, and with her present obvious prosperity she had the opportunity to indulge her taste. When she had preceded him into the restaurant door he had noticed her stylish shoes and dark grey tailored suit and fine leather gloves. Even her stylish hat. He remembered she had always loved hats. He had noticed her figure was still good. He idly wondered if the other women in the restaurant were envious. The other men would certainly be envious of him, but he shook his head. He had moved on from that time in his life. He remembered why they had split and gone their separate ways. Besides, he was getting married again. Inge, his fiancee, was pretty too, but a much different type from Martha. They finished eating, and Albert signalled to the waitress for their bill. "I'll get it, for old times." "Thank you, Albert," she said graciously. She shifted her position and crossed her legs. Albert had another sudden flashback. The rasp of her nylon stockings rubbing together brought back more memories. Her accent had changed. He had met her, then a girl of eighteen, when he was with the army on a training course on the Salisbury Plain. At the time she had been visiting an aunt in Salisbury. Martha was from Cornwall, her accent showing the rolling of the West Country. Now it was getting much more cultured, but yet with a more than a hint of Yorkshire in it too. They had not been in any direct contact since the divorce. A year or two into their marriage Albert began to notice things about Martha. At first he had dismissed his thoughts as imagination, but the frequency increased and he began to have real suspicions. Then, when the other women contacted her and she joined the coven, as she called it, matters had come to a head. There was still affection, but his great unease with her powers and new acquaintances made their trust and marriage impossible. They had split amicably enough. Albert had even arranged a demonstration of infidelity with a prostitute to allow the divorce to proceed in the courts. Their paths had long since moved into separate circles, then just the week previously they had met accidentally at a motor show. They had spoken, hesitatingly at first but then arranged to meet for lunch. He looked at his watch. "Well Martha, I'd better be getting back to work. It's been nice seeing you again." He held out his hand to shake hers. "I hope things go well with you." He hesitated. "I was very fond of you, you know. I hope, now that we've met again, we can still be friends. You know, if you need some help, you can call me. You know my firm's address." "And you too, Albert. It's been lovely seeing you again. Your fiancee is a lucky woman. I really mean that, Albert. Another thing, if I can help you also, please call me. I still use Fred Netherby as my solicitor. If you want to contact me you can do it through him. I'm no longer at the same address. In fact I've moved quite a bit in the past few years and now I'm thinking of moving again. I've my eye on an old farmhouse up by the moor." He held the door for her again, again eyeing her trim figure and shapely calves as she passed in front of him. Her stocking seams were perfectly straight, as ever. "I'm not sure if I can use your kind of help, Martha." He rolled his eyes slightly. "But thanks the same. Well, I'll be off now." He held out his hand to shake hers, but she leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. "You never know. You might need my help. Or I may need yours." Her perfume, faint but sultry, stirred yet another set of old memories in him. He decided he would be better not to tell Inge that he had met Martha again. Martha watched him go and headed off to a small park along the street. She sat down on one of the benches overlooking the city, but she did not admire the view, rather, she stared sightlessly into space as if torn between her past and the future. She felt that strange feeling again in her mind. She saw and felt conflict, a jumble of impressions, but it made no pattern yet. At length the feeling passed and she rose and walked briskly down the street and into a car park. She felt a momentary flush of pride seeing her new car waiting there. Buying the Rover was perhaps an extravagance, but she loved its style, comfort, and the class it gave her. Having Dora as a driver too was perhaps another extravagance, but Dora was in the coven too and Martha was glad to have helped her through a difficult period. Dora was dozing in the driving seat. Martha opened the passenger door and slid in, adjusting her skirt over her knees. Dora blinked. "Well? How was it?" she asked. Martha gave a faint smile. "It went well. A good meeting. I think we were both nervous, but we parted friends." "Well, make sure the coven don't hear about you meeting him. You know what Dierdre's like about us having friends outside the coven." "I know, Dora. Her attitude is beginning to worry me. Maybe we did wrong in electing her as head. But, you know, you have your reservations about Dierdre too. Don't try to deny it. Anyway, you needn't have to worry about me and Albert. That's over. Also, I'm quite aware that for women like us, men shouldn't be in our futures. Too many complications." "Yes. I wonder what a man would say if he knew his wife was in a group, prancing naked round a strange rock every month." "Prancing?" Martha laughed. "You make it sound like gymnastics. It's a serious ritual." "Yes Ma'am, so Dierdre keeps telling us. She has fancy ideas that one, and some strange ones too. I hope the coven has done the right thing in making her the head. Anyway, I'm supposed to be your driver. Where shall we go now? Back home?" Martha gave a wistful shrug. "No, I feel like a drive. See some of the world, how other people live. Normal people like Albert, not witches like us. And I've been thinking about that Highfield property again. Let's go and look at it." They drove out of the city, the grey sandstone or red brick houses gradually thinning out as they climbed up out of the valley and into the country. An occasional hedge gave way to stone walls bordering the road. At last they turned off the main road onto a side road and then to a narrow road, barely more than a track heading up a narrow wooded valley, a cleft in the moor, and at the end of the path was the old empty farmhouse, built of the local stone. The two women got out to look. The farmhouse had quite obviously seen better days, but the stonework was in good condition and the structure appeared to be still habitable. "Look at that," said Martha. "The roof shows no signs of sagging and it is has slate on it. Most local farms have stone roofs." Martha critically surveyed the front and the courtyard, then picked her way round the building, moving awkwardly as her heels sank into the soft earth, peering in each window. Dora followed, grimacing at the mud on her employer's elegant heeled shoes. At last they reached paving of the courtyard again. Martha gestured, waving her arm round at the house and the outbuildings. "Yes, I think this is what I've been looking for. The floor is intact inside from what I can see. There's lots of room in the house and we could use one of the outhouses for a garage and another for a workshop. The house itself, I think I should add a bit to it too. That's a lovely view at the back. Just imagine a room there, a nice comfy one, flowers in it. We could even have an extension with a glassed roof, and a nice tiled floor. A sofa and chairs in it and we could work there and have that wonderful view over the valley." "They might be asking a bit of brass for this, Martha. And it will take a lot of fixing up." "Oh, don't you worry about money. Martha Braithwaite has her head screwed on right. Don't forget that I'm used to negotiating for properties. What do you think gave me the money I can use for this? But I think we'll get it for a song. It's been on the market for a year now and I don't think anyone has been interested in it. Yes, it will be nice and private and yet convenient. We're not to far from the main road and there's even the railway station just down in the dale. It would be easy for our coven sisters to get here. Just think, we could have the coven meetings here and be well away from prying eyes. Nothing around but sheep. In fact, I think I'll have a special room built on for our meetings. Yes. I think I'll be able to get it." She was getting more and more enthusiastic as she spoke. "All right Dora, let's get home and I'll make an offer tomorrow." "That'll be a big house. Think you 're up to taking care of it? Of course I'll be helping too. That's what you pay me for" "I've been thinking about that too. No, we'll need to get a housekeeper, maybe one who'll also cook. I'd better start looking around for one." "Don't you think it will be difficult having a housekeeper if we have our ceremonies here?" "Oh, I suppose we could give the housekeeper a day off when we have meetings. But let me think about it. I'll cross that bridge when I have to. Now let's get back home. I'll do a last check of my finances." It was a week or so later, Martha had made an offer on the property. Martha was in her home office with her papers spread around her, deciding on an architect for her renovations when the telephone rang. "Hello?" "Good evening, Sister Martha," was the answer. Martha recognised the accent and tone immediately. "Oh Dierdre, how nice to hear from you. What can I do for you?" Then her face flushed briefly and she rolled her eyes at Dora who had just come into the office with some tea. "Oh, I'm very sorry, Lady Dierdre." She emphasized the title 'Lady'. She listened to the caller and jotted some notes on a notepad. "Yes...yes, of course. I'll get on to it tomorrow. Then good night, Lady Dierdre." "What was all that about then?" Dora asked. "Oh, her highness, so-called Lady Dierdre," Martha said sarcastically. "The gall of that woman, and her the offspring of a Liverpool whore! Now we're having to call her 'Lady'." "Bloody cheek. I just knew we'd have trouble with that one." "Anyway, Dora, I mentioned a week or so ago that one of the coven ad detected some signs like emanations, as we call them, from the Manchester area. Dierdre had another of the coven look at it to check it out, and she thinks she knows who the woman is. Her name is Susan Fell, Sue they call her. She seems to be a widow. Dierdre has asked me to go over to Manchester and contact the woman. Sound her out and see if she wants to join the coven. Of course, you'll be coming too. I'll need your opinion too." "Did 'Lady' Dierdre have any idea what the new woman is like?" "No, not at all. Still, you know we try to contact all who share our gifts. That way the coven is kept strong. That was how the coven first contacted me, and you too earlier, I dare say. So tomorrow, let's get an early start. Just coffee and toast for me." "You and your bloody coffee," smiled Dora. "Just like a toff," she chided. "I like my cuppa tea in the morning." It was a cold day going over the Pennines. The drizzle in the valley changed to a light snow that blew over the road, with occasional slight drifts. Still, Dora drove steadily and carefully, and in two hours or so they were descending into the Manchester area. Martha pulled out a map. "The next right. Yes, now go along until the third crossing and turn left, and first left after there. Yes, just at that Belisha beacon. Now stop here and let's see what we can feel." It was a neighbourhood of row houses, all in a grimy red brick with dark slate roofs. A few young women passed by, pushing prams and carrying shopping bags, idly looking at the Rover. The two women waited an hour. Twice Dora had to put the car engine on to warm them up. "A wild goose chase, maybe," she grunted. "I don't feel a bloody thing, and we're using up petrol." "Have patience," said Martha, "Maybe she's out." "All right," said Dora, "It's you that's paying for it." Some minutes later a woman in her fifties passed. She was stoutish and dressed in a faded dark blue coat, flat black scuffed shoes and carrying a cloth shopping bag. Martha started. "Did you feel that?" she said. "Yes, no doubt about it. Quite strong," agreed Dora. "She must be the one we're looking for. Looks like she's been out shopping. Ah yes, she's going into that house, the door number we were given." They watched as the woman took out a key from her handbag and opened her door. "There it is again." exclaimed Dora. "I really feel it. I wonder why no one detected her before." "Maybe she just developed the ability. I was in my teens when I first was aware I was able to do it. Well, shall we go an introduce ourselves? I hope it will not be too much of a shock to her." Dora pursed her lips. "And again she might not be too thrilled about being invited to join a witches' coven. She might be religious, report us." "Who to? And who'd believe her? There are no witches, are there?" Martha laughed. "Anyhow, I've done this before. I know how to be careful. Let's give her a few minutes to get her coat off." They knocked at the door. The door opened and the woman looked them up and down suspiciously. She had removed her coat, but was wearing a frayed apron over her worn pink blouse and shapeless brown skirt. Her cotton stockings were baggy and darned. All articles had seen better days. "Aye, an' what d'ye want?" "Good morning, Mrs. Fell. Maybe you can help us. We're with the ministry and doing a survey on residents of the city." "Aye, an' what ministry is that?" "The pensions lot," lied Martha. "Oooohh, and what do they want to know?" "We are just getting information about people for statistics and so on," Martha spoke earnestly. The woman looked at them with scepticism." I think it's time you went. I don't know what ministry that is you say you're with, but it sounds as if your questions will be just bloody rude. Or maybe you're not with any so called 'Ministry' at all and you're just nosyparkers. You been speaking to my neighbours? Maybe they've been spreading tales about me. Yes, I can sometimes see things, and they happen. But that doesn't give you the right to come annoying me!" She made a move to shut the door in their faces, but Martha caught it. Martha gave a quick look at Dora. "Please, Mrs. Fell, let me tell you about us. I'm sorry if we annoyed you. We don't mean to, and you have a perfect right to be suspicious. You see, you said you see things that are going to happen. It's the same with Dora and I. In fact us and a whole lot of other women. It's a gift we have, and we' d like to speak with you about it. Please, I'm not pretending, Mrs. Fell." Sue looked at them suspiciously, but her manner changed. She looked cautiously round the street. "I think you'd better come in. All right," she asked, "then who are you really?" Martha took a deep breath. This was the critical part, the dangerous part. She decided to trust Sue. "My name is Martha Braithwaite, and this is Dora Quinn. Oh, Dora lives with me. She's my driver. In some ways we are like you. We can see things that might happen. In fact we are both kind of...witches you might call us, and we belong to a group. Yes, you can call it a coven. We get together for support. We help each other." Sue grinned, but without humour. "Aye, an' next you'll be telling me you do spells too?" "Actually, sometimes we do." Martha had the small satisfaction of seeing Sue's eyes widen. "Our coven is quite ancient, and over the course of centuries it has uncovered certain spells. As we discover more women like us we ask them to join us. Most do. We get together for mutual support. Also, our joint energy helps us do things better. We wonder if you'd like to join us. We think you have our abilities too." "You do no one any harm?" Martha shook her head. "Only to people that do us harm. Or to others if we find out. Witches are supposed to be wicked, but we are not. We don't seek to do evil, but what we do is for our own safety, and our own welfare. The more we are together, the more our powers are increased and we see better into the future. We have used some old spells to punish people, but only those that threaten us. Otherwise we let the world go on its own way. Our coven meets once a month, usually at full moon. We also have a rock that gives us some powers. We have also studied ancient rites and things for spells. Members travel from all over the country to attend." "That'd cost a bit of brass for travel. Any money in the coven?" "We help each other a bit. I've done well. I have made some good investments, but maybe that's my own special skill. I've personally helped out a few of our coven that needed help." "Yes," said Dora." Martha has been good to me. Gave me a job too." "Lucky for you," said Sue. "I've got to work to keep a roof over my head. I've been a widow for years. At least my son is now out and earning. He's going off to live in London. So he shouldn't be around much." "What do you do?" asked Dora. "I'm a cook in the canteen at the works down the road." "You like it?" Martha asked. "Are you daft?" asked Sue. "It's bloody hard work it is, an' it don't pay that well." Martha saw her opportunity. "You know, if you are interested," asked Martha," I may be looking for a cook and housekeeper. I'm buying an old farmhouse, a bit out of Leeds. It will be getting renovated, maybe getting some additions too. I'll definitely need help with it. You could travel with us to coven meetings but we are hoping that after the renovations all the coven meetings will eventually be held at my new place, so that would be very handy." "What are you paying? Sorry to be so rude, but I have to count my pennies." Martha mentioned a figure and Sue's eyes lit up. Even more when Martha said that room and board would be free. "Then that sounds good. When would I start? Assuming of course that I'd accept the job. I'd have to check you out, you know." Martha knew that Sue was actually keen to get the job. "Probably not until we are almost ready to move in." She watched Sue's face fall. "There's a lot to be done to it." "Oh, I'm sorry," said Sue, "here we are, and me being rude, not even offering you a cup of tea. You like some?" "Yes, that would be nice," said Martha. The women talked a bit more over tea and biscuits, Sue becoming more and more enthusiastic. At last Martha looked at her watch. "Well it's getting on. Time we were back. We want to get home before its too dark, and I see Dora fidgetting. So we'll be off. I have your address so I'll write to you to let you know what's happening. I have a telephone, but I see you don't" "Thank you, Mrs. Braithwaite. I'm sorry I was so abrupt with you at the start, but I've had all sorts of people annoying me." "Yes, I know how it can be. If they do annoy you let me know and maybe the coven can fix that. By the way, call me Martha. In the coven we count ourselves as sisters. Well, maybe all except for 'Lady' Dierdre. Well, cheerio for now." "An' you should call me Sue. Ta Ta," said Sue. They said goodbye and Martha and Dora set off." You told a bit of a fib there, earlier, Martha," said Dora. "Yes, I don't think we are evil, but I can't say the same about Dierdre." "Yes, I suppose I did. But it will be good to get Sue with us. She'll be a good addition to the coven. I think her powers are quite strong." In fact it was year or so later before Martha, Dora and Sue stood in the newly paved courtyard and looked at the house. "Oh we'll have fun here. It'll be nice to be moved in. Sometimes I never thought it would happen, what with finding an architect, getting the planning permission, the builders, the roofers, plasterers, plumbers and carpenters, getting their supplies, even the garden supply company." She pointed to the flowerbeds at the side of the farmhouse. "There's some roses there, and we'll put in some spring bulbs a bit later in the year." The women walked through the house, admiring the new sitting area at the back, and then the large new room also at the back. The builders had done a good job with the local stone. Its lines matched the rest of the house. "When do you want to have the first coven meeting here?" asked Sue. Martha shook her head. "We'll need to get the approval of the coven, of course, but I think that would be a formality. The main trouble may be Dierdre. Anyhow, not the next meeting. That's to be held near Lincoln, but after that we should be ready. If nothing else this place will save us a lot of travelling. That can get a bit tiresome in winter. Also this place will be better than any the coven has used yet. It'd be nice if it could be permanent. Unfortunately Dierdre might not like that. She doesn't like me and doesn't want to see me getting any more influence." "I think we may rue the day we let Dierdre take over," grumbled Dora. "What are you going to do with your old place?" asked Sue. "Oh I'll keep it. I can rent it out. There is quite a demand for rental housing. It will be some nice income for us." "Do you think you'll like it here, Sue?" asked Martha. Sue nodded approval. "Aye, I think I'll be right happy." "You're happy with your decision to join us?" Martha asked. "Mind you. I should warn you. You will have to be approved by the coven, but especially Dierdre. And then again, I imagine you will want to look all of us over." "Aye, but I can tell you I can't wait to get my stuff moved here. I never thought the day would come. I've been fretting at home for over a year. It'll take me about two weeks to get ready. I rent the house so I'll give notice to the landlord and at my job. Be glad to be away from them all, I can tell you." Sue stayed with them that night, and Martha was even more convinced they would get on well together. They drove Sue home the next day. It was a Sunday. "All right, we'll come and get you in two weeks." Sue waved as they drove off. They were halted by a traffic accident. A policeman was directing traffic to a detour. "Bother!" said Dora. "I hope we don't get lost." Two blocks along, almost at the main road, Martha tensed, "Just a minute. Dora!" she cried. "Stop here!" "What's up? You gave me a proper fright." "See that old building over there. It's derelict. I want to have look at it." "Here?" protested Dora. "Oh, all right. Yes, I can park over there." She followed Martha out of the car as she walked over to the building. The door was partially boarded up and the windows had been smashed by vandals. "Must have caught fire," observed Dora. "Quite a mess." "Yes, but look at the site. A lot of traffic passes by here. The right business might do well." She looked at the faded sign above the doorway. "It looks like it has been a cafe or ice cream shop. I think it has a lot of potential." "Come on," protested Dora. "You've got enough on your hands with the farmhouse." "Oh, Don' t you worry. Oh look, the door is actually open. She pulled off a plank and pushed her way inside. "Careful," warned Dora, There's all sorts of rubbish here you'll rip your clothing, your nylons at least." "Dora, I swear you are like a mother hen." Martha looked around at the old shop. "I wonder what happened." The cupboards were still there, but badly scorched with fire. The plastered walls were falling apart. She examined some brickwork. "Hello, what's this? It looks like a small hideyhole. See, some bricks there, where the plaster has fallen away. An old tin box in there." Martha pulled out the box and shook it. It was soldered shut. She shook the box. There was a dull thud as something moved inside. "Hmmm, something in it." Then she visibly shivered. "You know, I begin to get a strange feeling about this. I wonder why someone hid it away like that. I'll take it home and see what's inside." "Careful Martha," warned Dora." You don't know what it is." That night, after supper, Martha looked at the tin. It was rusty with age. "I think a tin opener will do. Let's hope it's not a bomb." The new tin opener did not work, but an old fashioned one cut easily through the rusted metal. Martha gingerly lifted out a package. "It has something wrapped in oilskin." She unwrapped a small book with a faded mildewed yellow cover. "You know," said Martha, "I have the strangest feeling about this." She opened the book and read a page. "Hmmm. Bother! I don't suppose you can read German?" She asked Dora. Dora shook her head "Why?" "There is some writing in here. It's pretty old. Let's see. Some small scribbles are in Italian. But there's a lot in, I think it's German. At least it's in a Gothic lettering. Interesting. That's on one part of each page and opposite, there's...sorry, I can't make the language out. It's not German. It's not Italian or French. I know French." "Maybe it was some German spy's stuff, from the war," suggested Dora. Martha flicked through the pages and shrugged. "I don't think so, but I have a feeling about this. However, we've enough other things to do for a week or so at least. It' been a long day, I'm dog tired. I'm off to have bath and then to bed." The women were kept busy the next two or three weeks with the house. They were relieved when Sue joined them after a week and easily took over the housekeeping and cooking. She was in ecstasy over her new kitchen. Martha was wary of visitors and at first there were a few curious locals hoping to see the changes, but Martha discouraged them politely. The changes to the farmhouse were not too visible from any public area except with a good pair of binoculars and soon the sightseekers stopped coming. Their lives soon settled into a pattern. Martha shopped in the city, but also a bit locally. Her accent, a bit less broad than the locals', marked her as different and many were cool to her. Yet she persisted getting into the habit of stopping at a small grocery shop in the nearby village and striking up conversations with the housewives and other customers, trying to make herself known. The shop was owned by a woman in her thirties. She had one son, in his early teens, called Simon, who sometimes served in the store. Martha was amused when she went in the store one day and caught Simon reading a set of encyclopaedias. "You out of comics, Simon?" she asked. "The boy blushed a bit. "Yes, Mrs. Braithwaite. But I found these in the back room and I got reading. My mother's uncle left them there." "Anything interesting?" "Oh lots, but some are a bit old fashioned." She smiled at him. "Well some stuff never goes out of date. Good for you." She looked through the shelves and bought a few sweets and chocolate. She handed him back a chocolate bar. "Here, Simon. For you." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Braithwaite, I can't take that from you." "Why not?" A cold hand briefly passed over her heart. Had rumours of the coven got out? "Mum says to be careful of strangers." "But I'm not a stranger, am I, Simon?" "No, Mrs. Braithwaite, I suppose not." he said slowly. "Thank you very much." The boy took the bar. She smiled as she went out the door. The boy had impressed her before with his intelligence. She had barely sat down in the car beside Dora before she felt that familiar slight shiver. Again impressions flooded her mind, intimations of conflict, and now Simon seemed to be a part of it. She shook her head to clear it. "Anything wrong, Martha?" asked Dora. "No, I don't know. It's just that the boy in there, Simon is his name. I got a strange feeling about him. There must be something about him that affects our future." "Yes, Martha, I feel it a bit too. We'll have to keep an eye on him. Him being a man, well, a male anyway. He's just a lad." A week later Martha came into the kitchen, holding a letter. "Sue. I've got something to say. Can you sit down?" "Yes Martha. Is it bad news?" "No, not at all. It's just that we will be having another coven meeting here in a week. And that's the one where we will initiate you. Are you still fine with that?" Sue nodded slowly. "Yes, I'd been expecting that. I think I'm looking forward to it. So what happens?" "It's almost like a business meeting at first, I suppose we meet in a side room to discuss policy. There's even a bit of wine or spirits for those that fancy it. Then after that's over I'll introduce you to her ladyship Dierdre." "What is she like?" "Well she's had a rough upbringing, but she's determined. She can be quite ruthless too when it takes her. She has definite ideas where we are going, the coven, I mean." "You don't like her do you?" asked Sue. "What makes you say that?" "Oh, just the way you talk. I sense it too." "Well Sue, you'll have to make up your own mind about her. Let me tell you some more things. Dierdre is powerful. She has a strong personality and is shrewd. She's a good business head on herself too. But she really trusts no one, and I think she really hates men too." "Why's that." Martha shrugged. "I don't know really. Maybe it's her background. Her mother was a whore," she grimaced, "and I think Dierdre had to shift for herself a lot when she was growing up Mind you, don't let her know I told you all this and absolutely never bring it up. I did a bit of investigating and found out a lot about our Lady Dierdre. She's sensitive about her background and would be angry if she knew I had been snooping around her past. I don't think Dierdre knew her father. But there's now quite a bit of money behind her, from interests in a lot of illegal stuff. She even has an interest in a brothel over to the west, about twenty miles away." "But why would she have a hand in running a brothel if she hates men so much?" "I don't think it's any sympathy for men, or the women either. I think it's that she has little microphones hidden in the rooms, so perhaps she can get information from the clients, or perhaps so she can blackmail them. Men can let slip all sorts of confidential information when...in these circumstances. And the act of sex and the love of a family are not really related. Or maybe she just likes the money the brothels make." It was a fine sunny day when the coven members met for the first time at Highfield. Martha and Dora watched as the other witches arrived, many squinting in the afternoon light. Dora felt Martha tense as an old Bentley stopped at the door and an elderly figure hobbled out. "Good evening to you, Lady Dierdre," Martha said. "Please come in." "And good evening to you too, Sister Martha." Dierdre's accent was strong Liverpudlian." I trust you have things ready for our meeting?" She sniffed and looked round the house disdainfully. "I see you have been busy. Well, I suppose this will have to do. I am sure we will be comfortable enough. We'd better be private. I hope you were careful of that." "I'm sure we will, Lady Dierdre. That's one reason why I chose this place to live. I am honoured to have you here, Please come this way." Martha led the women into a small room. "You can leave your coats there. Now, I have some snacks for us, then there will be more to eat later. Sue, who will be joining the coven, if you agree, is a good cook, and she has prepared a nice meal for us." "And if I don't agree?" cackled Dierdre." Then I imagine you will be looking for another cook!" Martha shivered briefly. She glanced around. Sue had not heard the remark. The small meat filled pastries that Sue had made were a success. Dierdre wiped some grease off her chin. "Well then, I suppose we'd better get to looking over this Sue of yours. She's a good cook, anyway." "I think she is willing, Lady Dierdre. And it was you yourself who asked me to contact her." Dierdre gave Martha a frosty stare, but Martha simply looked back at her. "Then you better bring that Sue of yours," said Dierdre, gesturing with her head. In a minute Martha led Sue into the room. "Lady Dierdre," she began, "this is Susan Fell. She's the woman we found in Manchester. She seeks your permission to join the coven." Dierdre looked at Sue, a fixed smile on her face. "Then welcome to our group. I will be glad to have you join us, provided you are sincere. Of course, if you do, you will obey me in all things, and once joined you will not leave, on pain of death. I suppose Sister Martha explained that to you? "No," faltered Sue, "she didn't." Dierdre sneered. "At least she was careful. Our coven's affairs and policies must be well protected. Well, are you willing?" "Yes," stammered Sue. "Sit down!" commanded Dierdre. Martha stood at the door, and two heavyset senior witches moved to flank Dierdre. "You know what we are?" asked Dierdre. "Yes," said Sue. "And you wish to join us? Sister Martha has told you about our group?" Sue nodded. "You realize that once you are joined with us you cannot leave and you will not divulge any of our rites, spells or anything at all?" Sue swallowed, but, "Yes," she faltered. Dierdre closed her eyes and sat rigidly. Sue looked at Martha in a silent query, but Martha shook her head slightly. At length Dierdre opened her eyes. "Yes, all is satisfactory. You may go," she said. "Make yourself ready to join in our meeting in an hour or so" Martha's shoulders slumped in relief and she followed Sue out. "Congratulations, you passed." "She hardly asked me anything," said Sue. "Yes, but she read your mind, or thinks she did." "What if I hadn't passed?" "Then we'd be burying you. But Dora and I were careful when we first arranged to meet you. We read your mind and thought we could trust you. Sue went pale. "You lot don't fool around, do you? You didn't mention when you recruited me what would have happened if I didn't pass." "No, I didn't. I apologize, but actually I had no doubt about you. Anyhow, come back into the room here," said Martha. "I have some things to tell you. First, it is as Dierdre said. You are now bound to us the rest of your life. Second, I know I can trust you. I like you. Now then, now that you are approved, you will join us in our ceremony. Dierdre's at another meeting just now. It's more just like a business meeting. There may be coven business, work out policies and courses of action. Our coven has members in all places. They can influence events and get money or power for us. Sometimes we even decide on punishments for snoopers or members of the coven who have acted injudiciously. However," she grimaced, "Dierdre and her clique are taking on more of that stuff themselves." Martha was interrupted by the sight of Dierdre hobbling from one room to stand before the door to the great room. She sounded a large gong. "Ah yes, it looks as if things are going on schedule and it's getting to the time when we all join in the room for our main ceremony. Excuse me. I will announce it." Sue heard Martha's clear voice and watched the other witches file into the meeting room after Dierdre. Martha took Sue's right arm, Dora took the other. Sue was biting her lip. "Nervous, Sue?" "No. Well a little bit, I suppose." "We'll go into this larger room and our music starts up. It's on a record that someone produced for us long ago. It's a bit scratchy. We start dancing to it round the stone. We remove all of our clothes too. I hope you aren't shocked." "You never told me about that either. You just dance around it. Starkers!? Oh well, maybe I should have expected that. You'll be telling me next that's an important part." "Yes," said Martha, "in fact it is, but I can't really describe it. You get a sort of lightheaded feeling. You are aware of only the stone and yet feeling a great kinship with the other members of the coven. Clothing is an encumbrance. It's as if we become part of one spirit. You almost lose your senses and then I suppose the music stops. You begin to come down but you feel refreshed, powerful, a great togetherness with your sisters. You feel younger too." "Yes. I'm always glad to get my stays off," laughed Sue. "Encumbered is not the word for it. But you say you dance around a bloody stone? Next you'll be saying you believe in fairies. An old rock? Where did it come from?" "No one knows. Anyway. It's not just any old lump of stone. It has been with the coven as long as I have been a member. Our oldest members say it was always with us. It's a black, pitch black, even textured rock, about a foot across. It looks quite ordinary, but in our ceremony it shoots out beams of light. When each beam hits you feel exhilarated. Yes, I know, hard to believe, but it does. Oh yes, another thing. It's rumoured it detects any sexual activity. I haven't seen that, of course. Most of the coven are single, and celibate. Those that are still married keep their husbands well away, and in the dark about their coven activities. Goodness knows how they do it. I couldn't, and it destroyed my marriage. I was barely able to stop any retribution by the coven on Albert." Martha looked at Sue. "Well then, All right, there's just us to go in. Are you ready?" Martha led Sue into the room. The women were a mixed group, old, young, pretty and plain, dowdy and smart. Dierdre was standing on a small dais. She clapped her hands. 'Time to begin. I, as head, will precede you all." She began to move anti clockwise round the room. The women moved to the side and began to follow Dierdre round the large room. An old gramophone began playing a shrill, throbbing music. In the centre of the tiled floor, on a purple cloth lay a black stone. The witches began to move in an odd swaying gait. Sue tried to copy them, but she stumbled for a minute before she got the rhythm Then it almost seemed like an aura now rose from each of the dancing swaying women, each a slightly different hue. The dancers all now seemed like young women, all dark haired, with pale, almost white skin. At each circle round the stone they disrobed, one garment at a time until all were naked. Then gradually all swaying bodies seemed to become less substantial, almost wraith-like. Their auras seemed to drift to the middle of the circle, swirling round the black rock. It began to glow and then flash so that narrow brilliant rays of blue light hit the women who began to leap with renewed frenzy. Sue registered this only dimly. She felt at one with the rest of the women. Some were now dancing frenziedly as an ecstasy took them. Sue felt it too, as if her limbs had the energy of a child, but it did not last. As exhaustion took them, the women began to falter and sink to their knees. The flashing stone flickered, then died. Sue barely felt her body, but she was sinking to the floor too. She barely registered her surroundings and she closed her eyes. Eventually she felt her arm being shaken gently. It was Martha, Dora at her side, "Sue, are you all right?" Sue raised herself onto her elbows and looked round. Most of the other witches were gone. Martha and Dora were wearing dark robes. She looked down at her naked body, aghast. She could not remember removing her clothes. "Here," smiled Martha, "here's a robe. It will do until you find your own clothes." Sue saw her clothing lying in an untidy bundle at the side where she had discarded them. She scurried over the floor and pulled them on. Martha was already dressed. "That's a shock, to see myself starkers, among all these other women." "Nakedness is nothing to be ashamed of," said Dora. "What do you think of Dierdre now?" asked Martha. "A bit full of herself, and more than a bit dangerous too, I think," said Sue. "But maybe I shouldn't say this, being new in the coven, and all that." Martha nodded slightly. "No, I wanted your opinion. I don't like her ideas. The coven would be best to be absolutely anonymous, or at least keep as low a profile as possible. We have powers all right, but they wouldn't be much use against the rest of the population if they got the slightest wind of us and goings on like this. We must take care to keep all of this secret." Martha grimaced. "They wouldn't burn us at the stake like in old days, but we'd be put away for a long time, maybe even quietly killed. The next meeting, one month later, went almost the same, to Sue's relief. The witches danced around the strange stone, lapsing into insensibility, and yet afterwards, Sue felt revived and energized by the effects of the stone. The next meeting again followed the same routine and Sue began to feel very comfortable in the midst of her new family. It was a wintry day some months later when Dora returned from an errand in the city. "You know how much I detest shopping," said Dora, grumbling. "Oh, when we came back, I dropped into the shop down in the village, you know, the one with the lad, Simon is his name. He says his mum was taken to hospital. He says she is poorly." Martha felt another frisson, severe this time. She liked the lad, but it was as if a dark cloud passed over the sun. She took the book in her unsteady hands, and looked down in the direction of the village. "Are you all right, Martha?" asked Dora. "You've gone white." Martha forced herself to be calm. "Oh yes. I was just thinking of the lad. Poor Simon. I hope his mother will be all right." But she knew she would not. A week later Martha was reading the local paper at breakfast "Oh dear," she said. "That poor boy." "What's happened? Who are you talking about" asked Sue. "It's that boy in the local shop, down in the village. Simon. It says here that his mother just died. The funeral is to be tomorrow." "Oh dear, he's but a lad," said Sue. Martha stared into space for a minute. "I have the feeling I'd better go to the funeral?" "Be careful, Martha," Dora stared at her "There will be a parson there. Not exactly the kind of person we want to meet." "Oh don't worry. I will stay well in the background. Dora. Maybe you can drive me down." The following morning when Martha and Dora returned from the funeral, Sue could see Dora was annoyed. "What's up?" she asked. Dora shook her head. "You won't believe what Martha has done. She's asked that lad Simon to come and live with us. I'm to go and get him tomorrow. I think she's daft. It's too bloody dangerous, for him and for us. What if he finds out what we do?" "Well, it's only kindness to help the lad. And Martha keeps having the feeling he has a part to play in her future. I'll tell you. If we have coven meetings we can just keep him well out of the way. Maybe give him something to send him to sleep." That music we dance to would waken the dead so it can be a strong sleeping pill or something." Some weeks later Sue, Dora and Martha were sitting around talking after a late supper. Simon had gone to bed. "What's on the telly?" asked Dora. Martha switched it on. She watched critically then sighed. After a few minutes she switched channels. She sighed again. "Nothing much there either. Any of you want to see it?" "Nah, any books around?" asked Dora. "I've been thinking of getting some to make a library," said Martha. "It's a nuisance being so far from the city." She smiled." Maybe I should get some old encyclopaedias like Simon upstairs used to read. Do you think he has got settled in here? It's strange having the lad around, even though he's no bother." She started suddenly. "You know, that reminds me. I have a book. Remember, that one I unearthed at the old ice cream shop in Manchester. I'd forgotten about it. Just a minute." Martha returned with the book. "It was in my bottom drawer." She giggled. "Not that I have any intention of getting married again." A brief annoyed look crossed her face. "Now, if I remember, it had a lot of German words in it. "Yes." She flicked the pages. "I can't read it, but I am sure it is German. I wonder what it says? Who would I know who could translate for me?" "Can I see it?" asked Sue. She gave a sudden shiver." You know, Martha. I have a funny feeling about this. There is something about it. She closed her eyes. "I get the feeling that this book has some magic, but it's not only that. In some way it's going to affect us. I see turmoil." "Then bloody well better get rid of it, Quick!" said Dora. "We don't need any trouble." Martha shook her head. "Maybe I'd better see about getting it translated. Trouble is, I'd need someone who can keep their mouth shut." The two other women sat glumly. Neither knew of anyone. A month or so later Martha was in town shopping and consulting her lawyer about some new property. Dora was waiting for her in a parking lot. "Successful day?" Martha grimaced. "Well, it went well with my solicitor. That's all right, but I finished earlier than I thought so I went looking for some new furniture in the department store over there. Talk about a load of rubbish." She sighed. Maybe we'll have to go over to Manchester. But that's a nuisance. Anyhow, let's get home. It's almost rush hour." Their road led them past a big factory. "I remember this place," Martha exclaimed. "It's where my former husband Albert worked." "You think about him much?" "No, not often. He'll be happier now. He was getting married again to a German girl." Her voice broke off. "German, I wonder?" The next day Martha called in Dora and Sue to her office. The book was on her desk. "You remember this book. I'm going to take a bit of a risk. I'm sure it's in German, and my former husband's new wife is German. I contacted him and I'm going to meet him again, to see if his wife, Inge she's called, can translate for me. I'm meeting Albert at one o'clock. So can you drive me down to the city, Dora?" Dora looked at Martha. "Be careful. You don't want rumours of magic getting about." "Yes, I know. I'll be careful." They met in the same restaurant as the time before. Martha had been delayed by an accident on the access road, and when she entered the restaurant Albert was already seated, a pint glass of ale before him. He rose to greet her. "Nice to see you again, Martha. I hope you didn't mind my not waiting for you." He rose to help her with her coat and held the chair as she sat down. "No, not at all, Albert." She felt slightly smug at seeing the appreciation in his eyes. She was glad she had dressed smartly. "Sorry I'm late, Albert. Traffic problems. It's nice to see you too. I wanted to see you about something, Albert. You are married again. Is everything going well?" "Yes, thanks for asking. Yes, we've been married about two years now. In fact, we've no got a son. We call him Peter." They were interrupted by a waitress. "A glass of wine for you, Martha?" "Yes please, red." Martha waited until the waitress was out of earshot. "Oh, I'm so glad for you Albert. So who does he look like?" Albert grinned. "Like me. He's a healthy little boy and we love him very much. He's really active." His face fell a bit. "Unfortunately he has a club foot, but the way he scuttles about you wouldn't know, and it doesn't slow him down." "Oh, I'm so sorry about that. Can't the doctors do something?" "Yes, they can, a bit, but I hate putting him through pain and the series of operations. And they won't cure it completely. But we love him very much. Now Martha, you wanted to see me. What can I do for you?" "It's rather awkward, Albert. I have a favour to ask of you, or rather your new wife. Perhaps Inge could help me. You see, I've come across an old book, in German. I'm wondering if I could ask her to translate it for me. I don't want to take it to just anyone. You see, I have a feeling about the book." Albert sat back, suddenly serious. "I know about your kind of feelings, as you describe them, Martha. They caused our break-up. I have no intention of letting anything come between Inge and me." Martha patted his arm. "Neither have I, Albert. You have been good and fair to me. But I think this will only affect me. I will make sure of it. By the way, does Inge know that you were married to me? Have you told her anything?" "I told her I was married before, but of course I didn't tell her the real reason for our divorce. As far as she knows, it was just that we found we were not suited to each other." "Would she mind meeting me?" His voice was cold. "Yes, I think she would. I think it would be a real mistake. And I personally would mind you meeting her." He stared at her firmly. "Please Albert, I need this. Could you say I was just a business friend?" She looked so pleading that Albert's resolution failed. He took a deep breath. "Well," he hesitated. "All right. I'll see what she says. I'll phone you. But I'm not promising anything." Martha was on edge the next days, until Albert called. "I hope I don't rue this day, but I spoke to Inge, and she is willing to translate the book for you. I also admitted you were my former wife, so she knows about us. Actually, she is much less reticent than I thought she would be. I think she wants to meet you. Feminine curiosity, I suppose." "Oh, I'm so grateful, Albert. So where about can we meet? You could both come to Highfield. I'd get my driver Dora to bring you in the car. Or do you want to meet at a neutral ground?" There was a short silence. "There's our son to consider. Maybe it would better be at my place. Then it will be on Inge's home turf." Albert gave the address. "How about next Saturday afternoon? About one? I'll be off work and Peter will be down for a nap then." "Thank you, Albert. Don't worry. If things go at all awkwardly, I will leave immediately and we will trouble you no more. I promise." Next Saturday, a few minutes before one o'clock, Dora drew the car up outside Albert's house. Martha looked at it approvingly. It was newish. She saw Albert had it neat and tidy. There were even well established roses climbing up a trellis. "You coming with me, Dora?" "No thanks. I don't want to be in the way. I'll go and do some shopping. I'll be about an hour, then I'll just wait out here and nap in the car." Martha slid out of the car. She had deliberately worn plainer clothes, and had put on barely any makeup. The less Inge saw her as a threat the better. She rang the doorbell and the door was opened almost immediately by Albert. "So Albert had been waiting for me," she thought. He nodded. "Good afternoon, Martha, You'd better come in." She noticed his tone was formal, even slightly cold. "This is my wife Inge. Inge, this is Martha." Martha held out her hand to the cheerful faced blonde woman who came to Albert's side and confidently held out her own hand. She noticed Albert squeezing Inge's other hand. Inge was a pleasant looking girl, but no real beauty. "How do you do, Mrs. Braithwaite," she said. "I know this may be embarrassing for you, so I'll get straight to the point. I don't know if Albert has explained, but I found an old book, written in German, I think, and I wonder if you could translate some or all of it for me. I'd prefer it to be done discreetly, as I don't know what it is about. "At that, Martha felt a slight frisson, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. She shivered slightly. Was it the effect of the book? "First, please call me Inge," the other woman said, "and I'll call you Martha. After all, we are both Mrs. Braithwaites. Albert tells me that you kept his name." She gave a faint smile. Her German accent was only faint. "Well, let me look at it," she said. "Let us go to the dining room table here. I've got some writing paper ready. My, it's old looking," she said, as Martha unwrapped the book. "I'll put some tea on." said Albert. "Or would you like coffee?" "Yes, I'd prefer coffee," said Inge. Martha nodded too. Yes please, Albert." "Albert is so English. He prefers tea to coffee. Ah, but you would know that," said Inge with a mischievous smile. She carefully opened the book. "Let me see. Hmmm, written by hand in the old Gothic style of lettering." She burst out laughing at the first page. "Why, Martha, it says that here is a spell, to remove a birthmark. Perhaps this is just someone's idea of a joke, pretending to make a magic book. So do you wish me to continue?" Martha nodded. "I'm just curious about it." She tried to sound offhand. Inge frowned. "But these other words, I don't recognize them. These are not German." She began to sound one out. Martha had a sudden premonition. "Please, that's not necessary, just translate the German words." "Why yes, of course," said Inge. "and why don't you write them down as I will read them out. I see the pages are numbered, so, on page three, it says, 'A spell to remove birthmarks. Recite out loud.'" Martha was writing furiously. She looked up only briefly to thank Albert for the coffee set down beside her. "Now, next page." said Inge. "'A spell to remove warts,'" she read. "and then the instructions, 'to read out loud.'" She turned another page. "'To heal cuts. Again, read out loud.'" They continued for several minutes, then Inge frowned. "These appear to be all to heal injuries or such. This one to heal scars' and see, this one on page twenty one. 'To make a hunchback straight'. Again, 'to recite out loud.'" She turned over another page. "And this, 'to heal a club foot'," she said slowly. She began to tremble, and Martha once more felt the slight shiver and the fine hairs on her arm rose. "You know," said Inge slowly, "Our son has a club foot." She took a deep breath and carried on. Over the next hour the women worked steadily through the little book. They were a few pages from the end when Inge gave a broad grin. "Look at this. It is a spell to change a woman into a man, it says, 'Read out loud, but be cautious. All within hearing will be changed.' And then there are more words in some language I can't recognize." She turned a page." And over the page. Ah, the counter spell. 'To change the man back to a woman.' There is a warning here. 'Beware, these spells are severe. They can weaken and kill.'" She frowned. "Well, that's a warning indeed." "And over the next page. Why, here is a spell to make a man into a beautiful woman. Again the warning." She beamed at Martha. "Yes, if a man is to turn into a woman, why not a beautiful one." She giggled. "And yes finally, on the very last page, 'To turn the woman back to a man." Again there is a warning that these are severe spells. Who would need, or have used these? Hah, but of course these are all nonsense anyway. There is no such thing as magic. Is there?" Martha caught a warning look in Albert's eyes. They were interrupted by a wailing from an upstairs room. "That is our son Peter. I'll see to him." said Albert. "Well Martha," said Inge, "that's quite a collection you have. An unusual book. Where did it come from?" "I found it in a property I had bought." Inge looked at it carefully. "The book is really old. And that is a strange cover for it, a kind of fine pale hide. I wonder if it is pigskin. What do you want to do with the book?" "Probably nothing," said Martha. "Perhaps I'll just keep it for a souvenir or a curiosity." "You know, "said Inge, "I get a strange feeling from this book." She shivered slightly. Martha felt it too. She eyed Inge carefully. Did she also get the feelings that she did? Martha looked up to see Albert carrying a small boy. The boy was rubbing his eyes. Martha's eyes were drawn to his right foot. Even in his sleeper suit she could see the misshapen foot. "This is my, I mean our son Peter, "said Inge." He is about a year old." She hugged and kissed the infant. "Can I hold him?" asked Martha. As she took him the boy leaned over to Martha so that his fine blond hair was in her face. She held the boy tightly, inhaling his smell. She stroked his back. A lump came to her throat, remembering her own miscarriage. Would she ever have any children of her own? She shook the feeling off, annoyed with her sentimentality. "You know," said Inge slowly, "My son's club foot. Would you mind if I tried the spell on him?" She blushed. "Not that I believe it would work, but you never know." Martha saw Albert tense and turn pale, but as he watched Inge's eager face he made no objection. "No, I do not mind. It is the least I can do for you to thank you for translating for me. "Do you want to read these strange words?" Inge turned to the page. "You have written out an English translation of what the spells do? Then let us try. Albert, would you hold Peter?" Inge read out a few words "Such a strange language," she said. "It is like nothing I ever heard before." It only took a few minutes to read the rest of the words. After a few seconds she looked ruefully at Peter than at Martha. Martha shrugged. "Oh well, just another book of fancies. It looks like there is no such thing as magic after all," she lied, thinking of the spells her coven used. She glanced at Albert. He was still edgy, but was beginning to relax. Suddenly Peter began wailing. "Oh dear, I wonder what upset him. Here, give him back to me," said Inge. Albert handed the infant over to his mother, but his cries, instead of subsiding, grew more intense. Inge tried to comfort him, stroking him. "Strange," she said, "his foot feels hot." Her jaw dropped. "Look," she whispered. The infant's club foot was slowly moving in the foot of the sleeper suit, extending and straightening, as if the tendons were relaxing, and the bones reforming. Inge tore off Peter's sleeper suit. They watched dumbly as the changes continued. It was over in a few minutes. The club foot was gone, leaving a normal foot in its place. Even the infant's cries diminished to a whimper and then tailed off. Inge looked at Martha in amazement. Albert's jaw was slack. Martha herself was in awe, then she felt that familiar prickle. No definite images formed in her mind, but she knew what she had seen was of great significance. It was minutes before anyone spoke. "Wonderful, but frightening," whisper