Helen Speaks

From: Lucy Skylark

The Green Dragon

St Bernice’s Field

Dear Vera,

You’ll know by now, I hope, that there was some drama with trying to deal with the problems at The Green Dragon Inn, and also that I am not lost, cursed or worse!

I went with Teddy and Olive on the bus. Olive was keen the moment I read her your letter. “This sounds like some proper old fashioned witching. Our family witch Talia used to deal with this sort of thing.”

“Your family witch?”

She shrugged. “It helps to have one to call on. Talia seems quite young but she seems to have been around for years. And I think our family used to call on her mother before that. It’s a kind of patronage.”

Even the witches Olive knows are well-to-do! Sometimes when I imagine the future, I like to think of living in a cottage just on the edge of town with a beautiful garden, like a good witch in a fairytale. Even though Olive has a cottage, I can’t see her living that life for long. She wouldn’t have a wart on her nose or dirt under her fingernails. She would be a witch-about-town!

She was slightly horrified when I told her we’d be getting the bus to St Bernice’s Field – but she pretended to rise above it. Honestly, now I’m not being intimidated by her, I have to try not to giggle.

Your friends at The Green Dragon were very kind and immediately made us an enormous plate of sandwiches. I explained to Mr Weybridge that we’d brought a ghost with us, and he nodded vaguely, but when I said, “This is Teddy” as Teddy held out his hand, he smiled and walked away like he hadn’t heard. This happens sometimes.

Olive chuckled as we ate our sandwiches. “Well if he can’t even see Teddy, it might be something pretty small we’re dealing with.”

She smiled at Teddy and I didn’t mention that she hadn’t been able to see him until Maksym had helped her.

(Olive had a second familiar in her cottage – a little kitten she called Pompom, which didn’t seem to be Olive’s style at all. Her beloved Firenze – pronounced Fee-rent-say – is a Chinese Water Dragon who can make portals in air. It’s honestly quite hard to enjoy being a down to earth witch with Olive around. Maybe the kitten belongs to her maid, and it’s not a familiar at all. I still can’t believe Olive has a maid.)

We agreed we’d all wait up that evening and see what we discovered. Mrs Weybridge said the sounds came from different rooms, and one room in particular seems so “haunted” they’ve stopped being able to go in there, for fear of whatever it is lurking there!

The three of us agreed that we didn’t want to tip the “visitor” off to our presence so we sat as quietly as we could in the Snug – that’s a sort of lounge room – in the dark. Honestly, it was rather fun, Vera. We got giggly at one point. You’re right, Teddy seems more real the longer I know him. I had a sudden worry that seeing off a ghost here might lead to seeing him off.

All of a sudden, we heard a sound – a clattering of something falling. It seemed to come from an upstairs room. I took the front stairs, Olive the back – and Teddy just floated upwards, which took me rather by surprise.

I tried a door – just a broom cupboard, empty and dusty – then another, a cobwebby guest room. It was dark and still…

Except there was a candle, the wick still glowing, a plume of smoke floating off it, as if it had just gone out.

I caught my breath and shuffled out to the landing. Teddy floated up through the floor and gave me a fright.

“Aw heck, have ya seen sumthin’?”

“Yes – this way,” I hissed, and he came with me – then shook his head. “Nuthin in here.”

Something metal fell off the sideboard, and I jumped again. “Are you sure?”

He looked concerned. “I don’t know… Ya’d think I’d see other ghosts, wouldn’t ya?”

You’d think that maybe we’d have checked that before we came, wouldn’t you.

I took a deep breath. I didn’t like being such a scaredy-cat, Vera. I addressed the room. “Whoever you are, we’re not here to hurt you. It’s just that you’re scaring the people who live here. Please come out and maybe we can help you.”

And I felt a cold hand on mine.

There was something like a whisper – but I couldn’t hear it.

“Please – speak up.”

A whisper again – and then slowly but surely, a face came into view. It was a young man, with shaggy hair and an unkempt beard, wearing a rather grubby tracksuit. “You can see me? Oh fank Christ you can see me.”

“Yes, I can see you! I’m Lucy…”

“Lucy?” Teddy said.

“And that’s Teddy…”

“Who’s Teddy?” the young man said.

“Oh well he’s a ghost too, you see…” I looked around – and Teddy was suddenly frantically searching the room.

“It’s all right, Teddy, I’ve found him! He’s not scary…”

“Lucy? Lucy!”

Olive rushed in. “Teddy? I heard you shout. Where did Lucy go?”

“Oh crap,” the young man said. “I’ve got you too. You’re invisible like me.”

…

…

Well.

This was a pickle.

It was hard for us to talk over the sound of Olive and Teddy, and then Mr and Mrs Weybridge, frantically searching the house for me, but we introduced ourselves.

The young man wasn’t at ghost at all. His name is Callum Brett and he had come to St Bernice’s Field two months before trying to sell television boxes door-to-door. “I wasn’t very good at it,” he told me. “It was costing me way more in travel than I was makin’. And then I went and pissed off the wrong person.”

It seemed that one of the Weybridge’s neighbours had literally cursed him, Vera. An old man had snapped at him that “I don’t want to see or hear you ever again” – and as Callum had stumbled down the path back to the bus stop, he’d gradually disappeared.

“I’ve been trying to make a plan since,” he said. “I live on me own since my mum died, and of course there’s no way I could pay my rent while invisible. There’s always rooms to spare here. I didn’t want to scare the Weybridges – they’ve always been nice to me when I’ve stayed here as a payin’ guest. I’m just tryin’ to get back on me feet…”

“Well, there must be something we can do,” I told him. “Teddy’s my familiar – we can do strong magic together, if he realises what’s happened! And I know that Olive has a good disenchantment spell if she thinks to use it.”

He smiled. “I’ve never met a real witch before. You seem pretty normal. Me mum used to read The Magical Reporter.”

Ironic, isn’t it, Vera!

We tried to communicate – but part of the spell seemed to be that you couldn’t say anything directly, not even by writing things down. Callum said the first thing he had tried was to send a message on his phone but it wouldn’t respond to his touch. He could pick up pens and things but they wouldn’t write and the Weybridges never seemed directly aware of him.

“They can ‘ear me in the bathroom tryin’ to wash me face when they’re watchin’ TV. But if I stand in front of the TV, they don’t notice. If I change channel, they just change it back like nuffin ‘appened. Or if they come in the bathroom when I’m there, well…” He made a face. “Then I better get out quick because no amount of turning the taps on or banging the door seems to get through.”

Have you ever heard of a spell like this, Vera? I started to feel very wary of the old man who’d cast it.

It was a long night, Vera. Have you ever watched a television show and the main character is stubbornly not doing the one obvious thing that would help? It was like that watching Olive. She was debating with Teddy – well, really debating with herself while Teddy listened – about casting her disillusionment spell, but she kept arguing herself out of it. She was worried that maybe the “evil spirit” was being held back by a spell and taking that away would make it worse! The Weybridges eventually decided to call the police and Olive sat huddled with Teddy… and Teddy grew quieter and quieter, Vera.

After a while, Olive said, “Shall we check around again?”

And Teddy said, “Albert’s keeping watch.”

“Who’s Albert?”

“Don’t panic, Benny, Rick said this job would be easy.”

She blinked at him.

He was fading, Vera. I tried talking to him then – reaching out with all my might. But he just got fainter and fainter, and then…

“Teddy, no!”

Poor Olive looked so scared. And I felt the same way. Was Teddy gone? I suddenly didn’t know what I’d do without him.

Olive started crying. Callum made a face, then tried to smile and walked out to leave us together.

“Lucy, please come back,” she said. “Please. I can’t do this alone.”

…

In the morning, the police came. Then reporters showed up to The Green Dragon a little later. I know you’ve already read the horrible article in The Magical Reporter. The police had to see off people who insisted that the pub had to be burned down and the earth salted.

One group did get a little closer than most. They had petrol and wooden sticks. Honestly, they looked so much like a baying mob out of a storybook I’m surprised they didn’t catch their reflection and feel deeply ashamed. I had to stop them and shouting didn’t help, but of course there is something I can do.

I can make it rain.

My power isn’t like Maksym’s, all wind and thunder. It seems to be much smaller, but that was all I needed and all I wanted.

And I only wanted to stop the mob – but in the process, Olive saw it happen. At last I saw her eyes widen and she realised that I was still there.

She did something then that surprised me. She rushed and got her bag – then she took out a small mirror. I don’t know what it showed her, but it was enough. She said the spell – and suddenly I was back again.

It was actually a little funny, Vera. I was so relieved and so grateful that I threw my arms around her and she acted like this was all a bit much and I was being embarrassing. Well, I patted her and then turned my wrath on the mob.

“You should all be ashamed,” I told them, in a voice so angrily sure it didn’t even sound like my own. “There’s no evil spirit here – just a trapped young man who was cursed by one of your neighbours. We’re going to help him.”

And I couldn’t see Callum, of course – but Olive had somehow found him in a moment with that mirror of hers. She didn’t really explain what it was or why it worked, and in fact seemed a little embarrassed.

He shook both our hands excitedly, apologised profusely to the Weybridges, and spent what felt like an hour whooping at the sky and enthusiastically greeting people, including the would-be arsonists who were very confused.

He’s speaking to reporters as I write this. I had to come away because his effusive praise of Olive and me was making me blush. We’ll find out who the neighbour is and what happened.

Teddy’s sitting with me. He’s disoriented and doesn’t remember much of last night, but he seems his usual self. I’m just so relieved, Vera.

I’m so sorry at the horrible things the article said about you – Mum was furious about that when she rang me. Dad wanted me to come home right away – but Mum talked him out of it. “She’s done some real good,” she told him. “I’m proud of you, Lucy.”

Olive is hiding in one of the guest rooms and is having a nap after some rather fraught sounding phone conversations. Her family were not happy that The Magical Reporter quoted her full name (I think that’s why Mrs Webfoot calls her Jenny – it’s short for Genevieve. She would have a name like “Genevieve!”).

I’ve had an idea for getting us home – Jacob taught me the ritual to find The Exchange. I think we can use it as a stopping off point, so we don’t have to fight through reporters to get to the bus.

It’s been a long few days, Vera! I can’t wait to get home and sleep.

Your friend,

Lucy.

Question: Have you ever surprised yourself when put under pressure?

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Next entry (Olive’s next letter): https://helenspeaks.com/2025/06/26/olive-framley-entry-19-26th-june/

Lucy’s next letter: https://helenspeaks.com/2025/06/30/lucy-skylark-entry-21-30th-june/