The Fifth Britain: 3

There are definitely people I’m fonder of than Katalin Pataki. It isn’t just that she happens to belong to the enemy. She also has a lamentable way of making me feel just a touch inferior. She’s about a foot taller than me, with the long, sleek look of a supermodel. Why should that make me feel deficient? Well, it shouldn’t. Apart from the practical advantage of being able to reach the top shelves in the cupboard without fetching a step, there is no real superiority to being taller.

Such is the folly of womankind.

Mind you, I say that but I’d noticed Jay eyeing the bulky figure of George Mercer as he came in, and his face registered the same kind of scowling irritation with which I beheld Katalin Pataki. So I’ll amend that.

Such is the folly of humankind.

Anyway, Katalin waltzed up to our table with her slinky supermodel stride and stood looking down at Jay and me. She said nothing.

‘Yes?’ I said after a while.

She still said nothing, and I realised it wasn’t me she was surveying so much as Jay. And Jay was meeting that stare with no sign of discomfort.

Well. Jay may not be half muscle, like Mercer, but he’s got all that black windswept hair and those cheekbones, and with that black leather jacket he always wears there’s a touch of the roguish about him. I began to wonder whether Ancestria Magicka’s pursuit of him (by way of Katalin) was about more than just his juicy Waymastery skills.

‘How can we help you?’ said Jay, and to my irritation that prompted a half-smile and, at last, a response.

I refuse to admit that the looming-over-us-without-speaking thing was in any way intimidating.

‘What are you doing on Saturday night?’ she said.

Oh, please. If she must ask Jay on a date, did she have to do it right in front of my nose? As though I didn’t even exist! The cheek.

To my secret relief, Jay did not have the flattered look of a man delighted to accept. His eyes narrowed, and he said with scepticism: ‘What would you like us to be doing on Saturday night?’ I liked the us in that sentence.

Katalin produced cards. Not business cards but lovely invitation cards on thick creamy paper. There was even a flash of gold gilding as she presented them to us — one each.

I examined mine in silence.

Ancestria Magicka’s Summer Ball, it said, amid the usual flourishings and faff. Ashdown Castle, Saturday 13th of May.

If I wanted to be picky I might note that referring to the 13th of May as summer was a touch optimistic. This is Britain, after all. But that aside: what?

‘Why?’ said Jay, perfectly expressing my own feelings in that one syllable.

‘You’ll see,’ she said mysteriously, and walked away.

Hm.

I exchanged a raised-eyebrow look with Jay. ‘Apparently they’re ready to stop hiding their HQ,’ I noted.

Jay had laid his invitation on the table and sat frowning at it. ‘Big event,’ he said. ‘And if they’re inviting the enemy then they’re up to something.’

‘Declaration of war?’

‘Maybe not quite that, but something of the kind. Taking their place on the game board, so to speak.’

I tucked my card away in my handbag. ‘We’ll go.’

‘Definitely.’

I watched as Katalin made her way over to George and Zareen’s table and repeated the procedure, though this time she only produced a card for Zareen. As a member of Ancestria Magicka, I supposed, George needed no separate invitation.

Zareen’s brows went up. She said something to Katalin, but we were too far away from their table and there were too many chatty diners in between for me to hear what she was saying. Katalin’s response was equally lost.

Away went Ms. Katalin Pataki, and Zareen fell into conversation with George. None of which I could hear either. I sat chafing, chewing a fingernail.

‘You know,’ said Jay conversationally, ‘it’s customary to look at your date once in a while.’

My head swivelled. ‘This isn’t a date!’

‘No. But if you want people to think we are here for normal reasons, like, say, to have dinner and talk to one another, then stop staring fixedly at Mercer.’

He had a point, though I suspected the note of grumpiness I detected in his tone was prompted by something else. ‘Sorry,’ I said as graciously as I could.

Jay offered me a chip, the biggest one on his plate, which I took to mean I was forgiven. I ate it in some abstraction, for I was busy casting a charm. Only a small one, I swear. It was a charm to bring far voices near, and a busy pub was not the best place to try it, for of course it brought all the far voices near and for a moment I was deafened. It took a little effort to sort through all that chatter and focus on the voices of Zareen and George, during which period I stared through Jay’s face, glassy-eyed.

‘Well, whatever the reason for it I’m always up for a good shindig,’ said Zareen clearly.

‘Want to go with me?’ That must have been Mercer.

‘Ves,’ said Jay.

‘I’d be delighted,’ said Zareen, and I pictured her smile.

‘Great,’ said Mercer, and then added smoothly: ‘Where do I pick you up?’

Ves,’ said Jay.

‘Moment.’ That sounded like a probing question from Mercer, and I didn’t want to miss Zar’s reply.

‘I’ll find my way,’ she said.

‘You’ve been to Ashdown before,’ said Mercer.

‘Mm,’ said Zareen. ‘What, you couldn’t afford a castle that wasn’t derelict?’

‘It’s not entirely derelict,’ objected Mercer. ‘Parts of it are sound, and we’ll restore the rest.’

‘Still, your lot clearly doesn’t lack for money. I’d have thought you would go for something better. Castle Howard, say, or Harewood House.’

‘The minute they go up for sale, we’ll be first in line,’ said Mercer tartly. ‘Until that day, we’ll have to make do with Ashdown.’

Not a bad answer, for he was right: properties large enough to house an organisation of Ancestria Magicka’s size were not plentiful, not if one wanted a historic place. But Zar was onto something interesting, for why did they want a historic place? So much so that it was worth buying a house half fallen down?

‘You’re listening in, aren’t you?’ said Jay in disgust.

‘Shh,’ I whispered.

He stared at me, brows lowered, eyes narrowed. I expected further objections from him — something along the lines of you can’t eavesdrop on somebody else’s date! — but actually he just said: ‘Fine. Are you hearing anything good?’

So I began to relay everything I heard to Jay, which to nearby diners probably resembled something vaguely like dinner conversation.

Mercer said: ‘How did the Society come by your house, anyway? Got any tips for us?’ He said it lightly, as though it were a joke. It could easily have passed as such.

‘No idea,’ said Zareen, equally lightly. ‘Well before my time.’

‘What, aren’t there stories?’ Mercer laughed. ‘That I cannot believe.’

‘All kinds of stories — at least six for every event. Milady spreads them herself. I think it amuses her to mess with us.’

Good move, Zar, I thought silently. If there was still a traitor at Home feeding rumours to Ancestria Magicka, perhaps that would sow some doubt.

‘She sounds difficult,’ said Mercer.

‘Terribly, but we love her.’

‘Right.’ Mercer’s voice was sceptical. ‘So you walked out on her.’

Zar waved this off with admirable insouciance. ‘Sometimes it’s necessary to part ways with those we love. This is important.’

‘This?’

Zar lowered her voice. ‘You know. Wester and the Greyer cottage. The pups. What happened to the Redclover brothers. All of it.’

George Mercer sat back in his chair, scrutinising Zareen with an unreadable look.

‘You’re staring again,’ said Jay, and I slumped back with a sigh. ‘Worst sleuth ever,’ he added, though his lips twitched in a smile.

I rolled my eyes at him.

Mercer was speaking again. ‘What am I doing here, Zar?’

‘Having dinner with me.’ I could hear the bright smile in her voice as she said it.

‘To what end? It’s been years since you and me, and all of a sudden you want to have dinner? I don’t buy it.’

‘Quite right.’ Zareen was suddenly brisk. I heard a clatter of cutlery as she, presumably, set aside her plate. ‘I’ve come with an offer.’

‘Oh?’

‘A pact. We have the same goals, George. Ves and Jay and I, we know what the Waymasters of old used to be able to do. The Redclover brothers at least, and possibly others besides. The Ministry might be intent on hushing it up but I know that Ancestria Magicka is determined to discover the whole truth — and so are we. Help us, and we’ll help you.’

I saw my own horror reflected in Jay’s dark eyes, for that certainly had not been part of the plan. Just what did Zareen think she was doing?

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Copyright Charlotte E. English 2023. All rights reserved.