Sparkle Witch: A Novella (The Lazy Girl's Guide To Magic Book 4)(4)
In any case, Tarquin was too puffed up with his own self-importance to have any real inkling about what I was trying to do. His eyebrows rose slightly and he ran his tongue over his white teeth as if to highlight his appearance. After all this time, Tarquin still thought that I cared what he looked like and that appearances were important to me. Considering that I was the witch who had wandered around the Order buildings only last week wearing a smelly tracksuit with a gaping hole in the crotch, a hairstyle which wouldn't have looked out of place in an eighties’ rock band, and the remnants of tomato sauce smeared across my cheek from the slice of pizza I'd fallen asleep on top of while waiting for Winter to return from work, you would think that Tarquin would know better.
‘I could tell you,’ he purred, ‘but then I would have to kill you.’ He laughed in apparent wonder at his own humour.
Unfortunately, Maidmont took that moment to leap in and try to save himself. He threw one arm around Tarquin’s shoulder and started to turn him round, propelling him towards the exit. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘it’s been wonderful seeing you, Adeptus Minor Villeneuve. However, we don't want to hold you up any longer. Thank you for popping by.’ He all but shoved Tarquin out of the grotto.
‘Hey!’ I protested. ‘I'd not finished talking to him .’
Maidmont wagged his finger. ‘I know exactly what you're up to, Ivy Wilde. It won't wash. Not with me. You are staying here as Santa Claus as you promised.’
My shoulders slumped. ‘How many days is it until Christmas?’ I asked
Tarquin stepped back in. ‘A mere thirteen,’ he said cheerfully, ignoring my gasp of horror at the unlucky number. ‘And now I remember why I was here in the first place,’ he added. ‘There’s a problem in the square. Something to do with the Christmas tree.’ He examined his fingernails carefully, discovering a tiny speck of dust and frowning at it. ‘I would help but I am an important Order witch. Daddy would not like it if I were distracted from my real duties.’
‘I fail to see what your father has to do with anything,’ I said, before forgetting that I was supposed to be doing everything I could to get out of the grotto and away from any small children. If that meant doing Tarquin's dirty work for him, then so be it.
I hastily backtracked. ‘I mean, I completely understand.’ I nodded to emphasise just how deeply I did indeed understand. ‘You are a Second Level witch. I am nothing more then someone's girlfriend. I'm nothing. You are everything. I do not wish to disappoint your father either.’
Anyone else would have burst out laughing. In fact, that's exactly what Maidmont did. Admittedly, his laugh was more of a nervous titter but he also silently applauded me when Tarquin gave me a thoughtful, serious nod.
‘I am very glad you understand, Ivy,’ he said. ‘The expectations which rest on my shoulders are heavy indeed. A lot of it is your fault, you know. If I hadn't had to rescue you from an evil serial killer, then I wouldn't be seen as the hero I am today. I could be more incognito.’ He sighed melodramatically. ‘However, we cannot change the past. All we can do is play with the cards that we are dealt. Therefore, you must dress up as Santa Claus and cope with problems relating to Christmas trees while I must take my leave and work on the more serious issue of how to procure large amounts of stinging nettles for complex herblore spells.’ He offered me a smile and turned towards Maidmont to bow while I pointed at my hands and mouthed the word ‘gloves’. Collecting nettles was hardly rocket science.
As well as protective hand gear, Tarquin really needed a cloak to swirl and a moustache to twirl. With neither at his disposal, he was forced to smile again before finally taking his leave of the grotto with a pinched strut that fit his personality perfectly.
As soon as he’d gone, I took off my beard and passed it to Maidmont. ‘Well,’ I said with a shrug, ‘you heard the man. I must go where I am needed. I must go where my superiors order me. Tarquin obviously has far more important things to do so I must do whatever I can to help him in his hour of need. And if helping him out means abandoning my post as St Nicholas, then that is what I must do. It’s a wrench and it will be very difficult for me to depart and leave you in the lurch,’ I patted Maidmont on the shoulder. ‘But I am confident that you will manage.’
I lifted off my fur-trimmed hat and plopped it onto his head. ‘There,’ I said with the most serious expression I could muster. ‘You look wonderful.’ Then, before he could even begin to say anything else, I ran out of the grotto as fast as my chubby little legs would carry me.
Chapter Three
I was tempted to stay away from the square and the Christmas tree and whatever problems were occurring there but avoiding it meant taking a circuitous route which added at least half a mile to my journey back to the safety of my sofa. In for a penny, in for a pound, I reasoned. After playing the role of Santa, dealing with Christmas tree problems would be simple. Perhaps I’d even manage to snarf a candy cane or two while I was at it.
I picked up speed in case Maidmont decided to come after me with a foolproof manipulation that would see me back as a living, breathing torture device for toddlers. I only stopped when I reached a cluster of worried witches, all gazing upwards at the towering tree.
I stared up. The tree was impressive. I’d never been able to boast about having an artist’s eye but I could certainly appreciate effort. And Abigail and the other Neophytes who had been tasked with putting the tree together had certainly put in plenty of energy and labour.