CHAPTER ONE
AMBER LEAVES TUMBLED outside the windows of Emily A’Barrow’s little house as she snuggled up on the sofa in a tangerine jumper, burgundy trousers and fluffy mustard socks. A crimson mug of spiced-apple caramel warmed her hands as she breathed a satisfied sigh.
Today was going to be the best Halloween ever, Emily thought. No dashing around Puddlewick for a last-minute costume. No hunting bare shelves for the plumpest pumpkin in the shop. And as she planned to turn off all the lights this evening, no pint-sized witches, ghosts or zombies to yell “Trick-or-Treat” on her doorstep tonight.
With all the marking she had to plough through this weekend, why should the little horrors spoil her night off?
Still, it would have been nice to cosy up with someone tonight. But to cocoon indoors while a stiff breeze scattered sycamore leaves outside would be the very next best thing.
Emily savoured the apple caramel’s warm scent but before the mug reached her lips a mobile phone rattled on her weathered coffee table.
Startled she dropped the mug, it shattered against the table’s edge and soon an oval of russet liquid blossomed across the beige carpet.
Emily snatched up the offending phone with an irritated sigh.
‘What’s wrong now, Karl?’ she said, picking up slick blades of broken crockery.
‘Don’t be like that, Em,’ her older brother replied. ‘But yeah there’s a bit of a problem…’
Emily assembled a still-life of ceramic shards on the table’s surface. ‘Laura doesn’t like your new kitchen worktop so you have to rip it out, again?’
‘The worktop’s fine,’ said Karl then added in a whisper. ‘It’s the rest of the kitchen she wants gutting before the wedding.’
‘If you keep remodelling there won’t be any of your original house left!’
She heard the shrug in Karl’s voice. ‘My tastes just don’t match Laura’s aesthetic.’
‘There’s a surprise,’ Emily muttered. ‘Anyway why are you calling? You know I’m rubbish at DIY.’
‘It’s Mia…’
Emily sat up at once. ‘What’s happened? Is she sick? Has there been an accident?’
‘Your niece is fine,’ Karl replied. ‘But her mother promised her a Halloween party tonight.’
She frowned. ‘I didn’t know there was a party.’
‘I’m…I’m sure I must’ve mentioned it,’ her brother stuttered.
‘I mean, all we got was one of Dad’s hastily carved pumpkins and we had to badger the neighbours for sweets.’
‘Probably why you chipped a tooth on some granny’s fossilized Toffifee.’
Emily grimaced. ‘She could’ve warned me she’d sucked all the chocolate out first.’
‘Hence the party,’ her brother replied. ‘But now the planner’s sick and we still have loads to buy.’
Her eyebrows knitted again. ‘You hired a party planner for a children’s party.’
‘Laura did invite sixty of Mia’s close friends and families.’
‘No child has sixty friends,’ Emily scoffed. ‘Anyway, thanks for reminding me why I don’t have kids. Good luck!’
‘Wait!’ said Karl. ‘I need you to buy the missing items.’
‘You know I’m taking Halloween off this ye—. Wait a minute. You weren’t going to invite me, were you!’
‘You know what happened on Mia’s fifth.’
Her jaw fell. ‘I wore an appropriate costume.’
‘You know full well Medusa’s not a princess.’
‘How was I to know there were more than one?’
‘That’s not the point!’ Karl cried.
‘Look, I’m sorry one of the rubber snakes fell into the loo,’ she sighed. ‘But surely paying for therapy was enough.’
‘Laura still checks before she sits,’ her brother hissed.
‘Oh,’ Emily said. ‘Why can’t you buy the stuff anyway?’
‘Laura’s booked Cirque du Soleil to entertain the guests and I’m picking them up from Heathrow.’
Her eyebrows rose. ‘Flipping heck Karl, that must’ve set you back. Since when did they do private parties?’
‘Times are hard for everyone, Em.’
‘But if the party is Laura’s idea, why isn’t she collecting them?’
Karl gave a weary sigh. ‘She’s got an appointment with her massage therapist Marco, on account of her nerves.’
Is he taking any more bookings? Emily thought. Because she’s getting on my last one.
‘Ask her brother,’ she said.
‘She did. But now he’s gone AWOL and turned off his phone.’
‘At least one of us is sensible,’ Emily muttered.
Laura yelled in the background: ‘Just tell her to stick to the list this time! She completely ruined Mia’s Christmas.’
‘But she loved the Wonder Woman bracelets I bought her,’ Emily protested.
The couple’s front door slammed in the background.
‘The theme was Disney fairies,’ Karl said between gritted teeth.
‘You know Mia likes superheroes. Just as well, seeing as that knock-off Tinkerbell cancelled due to stage fright.’
‘Don’t make things harder than they need to be,’ her brother sighed. ‘We still haven’t got everything Laura wanted and she’s already upset.’
‘Just who is this party for? Your daughter or your future wife?’
‘Nor can we let the other children down,’ he insisted. ‘Besides, what will their parents say?’
Emily’s brow furrowed. ‘You’re beginning to sound like your fiancée. Tell them Mia’s got the flu.’
‘Laura already announced the party on social,’ he muttered.
‘Do you have to tweet everything you do?’
‘You’re so out of touch,’ Karl chuckled. ‘We stream our lives twenty-four-seven now.’
That does it.
‘I’m tired of being dragged into your ridiculous fads,’ Emily cried. ‘This time you’re just going to have to make do.’
A slight pause. ‘I did tell Mia her favourite aunt is coming.’
‘I’m her only aunt, Karl.’
‘And you wouldn’t want to let your only niece down…’
Emily imagined Mia’s large hazel eyes gleaming with tears as she cruelly snubbed her first-ever Halloween party.
‘I was supposed to be having a quiet night in,’ she cried. ‘Not wading knee-deep in children high on Tangfastics!’
‘Thanks Emmy, you’re a star.’
‘And you can stop talking to me like I’m one of your telesales staff.’
‘I’ll text you the shopping list—and don’t forget it’s fancy dress.’
‘Karl, I said no!’
‘Though there’s a strict ban on witches, broomsticks and the colour orange.’
She blinked. ‘Why?’
‘A few of Laura’s followers expressed concerns we were promoting the occult.’
‘At a Halloween party.’
‘Plus, one of the mums is skoupaphobic.’
‘Now you’re just making up words!’
‘And Laura says the colour orange stimulates the sacral chakra, which is completely inappropriate for a children’s party. Apparently.’
She frowned in disbelief. ‘And who’s going to pay for all this?’
A slight pause. ‘You can come for dinner round ours—once the kitchen’s refitted. Anyway, see you at four and this time stick to the list!’ Then Karl rang off without further ceremony.
Emily gaped in silence before she finally erupted: ‘No orange, no broomsticks and no witches at a Halloween party? Then what’s the bloomin’ point?’
Her phone chirruped in reply and she frowned at the list.
A five-tier ivory and silver cake?
Handblown glass pumpkins with pewter stems?
Squid ink Tagliolini for a hundred and eighty guests?
Another text appeared: And a costume for Mia.
At least he remembered his daughter in the end.
‘But on a teacher’s salary?’ Emily yelped. ‘Have they finally lost their minds?’
She rang Karl back but his voicemail kicked in rather conveniently instead.
‘Just typical!’ she cried after the beep.
Steam still curled ceilingwards from the brown patch of spiced apple-caramel on the carpet.
Some quiet little Halloween this was going to be…
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