You can read the story so far from the beginning here
“I can’t help it!” Jed exclaimed. “I’m not a supermarket and I don’t carry chicken nuggets.”
“What am I supposed to tell my boys?” Christine said. “You know what they’re like.”
Hilary looked around the unusually busy Farm Shop and could see that most of the customers shared Jed’s opinion. Christine from the new houses off Old Lane was a pain in the neck and her boys, three oversized teenagers, were spoiled beyond belief.
“Why don’t you make them a nice chicken casserole,” Marlene suggested through gritted teeth. “We even have packs with all the spices and flavourings in.”
“But they want chicken nuggets!” Christine snarled.
“We don’t sell chicken nuggets.” Jed snarled back. “And we never will. So either buy something or clear out and take your car the long way around to the supermarket. Next!”
Hilary placed her basket down on the counter. “It’s just the usual,” she said. “I’ve got everything I wanted.”
“That’s because you can bloody cook!” Jed yelled, glaring at Christine.
“I can cook,” Christine said. “I can cook better than that newcomer.” She pointed a vicious finger at Hilary. “It’s just that my boys are sensitive.”
“We have some frozen cod in batter,” Marlene managed brightly, sidling up to Jed and giving him a nudge.
“Fish is no good,” Christine said. “My boys like chicken.”
“And I like being served, but until you get a shift on, we’ll all have to suffer,” came a voice from the back.
Hilary turned around to Sam scowling at Christine. “I won’t be two minutes.”
“You’re not the problem,” Sam grumbled, loud enough to reach Christine. “And you’re less of a newcomer than that…”
Hilary turned quickly back to Jed. “This looks lovely and fresh,” she said as she handed over her money. “I know it will be delicious.” She started shoving things quickly into the bag.
“How can it be fresh when they can’t get to the wholesalers to get chicken nuggets?” Christine sneered. Hilary winced as she felt the fury building in Jed.
“I can get to the wholesalers just fine,” Jed roared. “And no matter how often I go, I still won’t get any more bloody chicken nuggets! And if you want to fresh, I’ll tell you fresh!” He loomed over Marlene. “That cabbage was picked from the field in the back this morning. That’s fresher than you’ll ever get from your wholesalers or supermarkets but you can’t cook worth a damn and you’ll never learn. Now get out before I throw you out!”
A scarlet flush ran over Christine’s face before she turned abruptly and stormed out.
“Next,” Marlene said brightly.
The car park was filled with knots of people. Yvette beckoned Hilary over to join her and her husband. “Have you heard anything more?”
“About what?” Hilary said. “I’ve had my hands full.”
“Everything!” Yvette said. “First of all there’s that poor woman who got trapped.”
Gideon nodded. “She’s still getting the hang of the whole werewolf thing,” he said. “But as it turns out, she was looking to move, so she’s taking the cottage the other side of you. You know, since Pearl moved out.”
“I don’t think that I ever met Pearl,” Hilary said. “But it will be nice to have a neighbour.”
“Well, she’s been in a bit of a state,” Yvette said. “But her boys are sweethearts. They’re not much older than Darius and I’ve seen them playing in the park.”
“But the road is still closed where the oak fell,” Gideon said. “And I thought Tom might have an idea how that was going on, as he’s done that sort of work.”
“He may be able to talk to people, you know, and get a hint of when the road will reopen.” Yvette said. “Because getting in and out of the village is tricky if you have to go the long way around.”
“Sam has been giving people lifts to the nearest bus stop,” Hilary said. “He’s been taking them in the trailer over his fields.”
“A lot of the old paths have seen some extra use,” Yvette said. “I know that the Red Lion’s car park is packed. People are leaving their cars there and hiking short cuts across the fields and around the woods.”
“Sam and Jed have been pretty tolerant,” Gideon answered. “At least they haven’t got standing crops in the fields and everyone’s trying to be considerate, but it’s going to be a problem if it carries on.” He looked expectantly at Hilary.
“I’ve no idea,” Hilary said. “I’ve got my hands full with work and cooking.”
“Lord Peregrine said that you’d be cooking for the new stores,” Yvette said.
Hilary shook her head. “Only until Bracken gets better,” she said. “I do not want a job where I’ll spend most of my time washing dishes.”
Yvette chuckled. “That’s what you think. Lord Peregrine never lets go when he sets his mind to something. You’re going to be cooking there for years.”
“And that’s the other bit of news and you must be able to tell us about this,” Gideon said. “What’s happening with these new stores? What are they going to be selling? Will there still be a place to drink tea or coffee? And how’s Jed taking the news?”
“And will it be able to open if the road stays closed?” Yvette added.
“Anything I say will instantly be added to the village group chat, won’t it,” Hilary said.
“Of course!” Yvette said, laughing.
“I can’t commit to anything,” Hilary said. “Tom hasn’t said anything about the road at all, but I think it’s serious.” She looked down the lane at the machinery huddled together as workmen swarmed over the ruined embankment. “And I know that deliveries are getting through. It takes a van an hour or two longer to reach the new stores, but it won’t put back the opening more than a day or two.”
“That’s something,” Gideon said. He looked over to where Christine was stood next to her car, shouting into her phone. “Will he be stocking chicken nuggets?”
Hilary snickered. “I don’t think so, not after today.”
Yvette looked thoughtful. “What’s a pooka?”
Hilary flinched. “Why do you ask that?”
“I heard Lord Peregrine talking with Magnus Lowgill. Magnus said that there was a pooka around, and Lord Peregrine agreed, but I didn’t hear anything more and I don’t know what a pooka is.”
Hilary looked up to the clouded sky for inspiration, then back at Yvette. She deserved to know the truth. “There was a chance that a pooka was involved with the collapse of the embankment,” she said. “Pooka are…” she struggled with words. “They are supernaturals, like Lord Peregrine and Bracken, but not quite the same as either. They aren’t exactly a fae, but nearer to a brownie.”
“So a pooka is like Bracken?” Gideon asked.
“Not quite.” Hilary lowered her bags to the ground and took a deep breath. “They can be helpful, like brownies. They’re diligent if they want to be and are fantastic craft workers.”
“You mean like shoemakers?” Yvette asked.
Hilary shook her head. “They can make and mend clothes, according to what I’ve heard, and they do beautiful embroidery, but they’re touchy and proud. They’re incredible when they help with harvest, but they’re just as likely to make a mess as clean things up.” She thought for a moment. “Like the brownies’ bad cousin. You know,” she said, looking at their blank expressions. “The cousin that’s always getting into trouble and the family are never quite sure what to do with them because there’s good in there somewhere even if they have just got drunk and fought the police up and down the street.”
“That’s not reassuring,” Yvette said.
Hilary shrugged. “Lord Peregrine may not have a big court, but he rules the court he has with a rod of iron. He won’t let trouble get out of hand.”
*****
Hilary puffed a little as she walked up the path by the hedgerow. Bracken had her tasting cakes and biscuits all day and it was taking a toll on her waistline. She shifted the bags in her hands. At least carrying the groceries like this was something of a workout. Since she couldn’t drive to the Farm Shop, she’d started going daily for groceries. If it had just been her, that wouldn’t have been a problem but Tom had a werewolf’s appetite and he needed substantial food. She turned at the way-stone, heading up into the woods.
Hilary frowned and stopped, lowering her bags onto the carpet of dead leaves. She knew of the great stone circles on the surrounding hills that pinned the flow of magic to smooth, steady flows, and she was grateful for them. But this was different. She brushed her hand over the small square stone. It wasn’t exactly new, but it was a lot more recent than the stones and it felt wrong. Hilary looked closer. The runes and arcane symbols were weathered, but the edges were clear enough. It was like the stone further up in the woods, the one she’d fallen over when she met Tom jogging up to the cottage. This stone was pinning the magic, but it was snarled and spiky, like a bramble, or even worse, like barbed wire that was artificial and uncaring. She looked around. How many of these stones were out here, distorting the flow of magic? She stood, frowning, then looked around again, trying to fix the place in her memory. There was far too much raw power coiled around it to risk moving it without taking precautions, and now wasn’t the perfect time. Hilary picked up her bags and marched into the woods. She may not be able to act right now, but at least she had a starting place.
