The Chocolate Magic Cozy Mystery Box Set Books 1 to 7 Page 27

  3

  “Witches sound interesting,” Magda said. “I mean from a truffle point of view. I could make Irish Witch truffles and put a twist of chocolate on top to look like a hat.” She went and found the ones she had brought and offered them.

  “Mmmm,” Branna said and took a second one.

  “You need a Guinness one if you are going for an Irish theme,” Jonno suggested.

  “Good idea! Thanks. I am already doing shamrock shaped ones for Saint Patrick’s Day.” Magda said and Sam added that the alcoholic ones were popular.

  “The Guinness idea is a good one.”

  “Or Bailey’s,” Branna added. “Do you fancy a drink and to see our local pub?”

  They were looking for a pen and paper to leave Alison a note when she arrived home.

  “Going for a drink,” Jonno said. “Are you coming, Alli?”

  “That cheek will get you into trouble young man. Go and collect your aunt and we’ll meet up at The Barrel.” Jonno kissed her on the cheek and grinned. She shook her head but smiled.

  The Barrel turned out to be set back from the road in the town. Once upon a time, it had been a large house. Now the entrance drive was all car parking. Sam said to Magda that he was glad that he wasn’t driving. The space was difficult to maneuver but Alison swung her little car about with ease and familiarity. She found a parking bay just ahead of a man in a red sporty looking car and waved cheerily as he lost the spot.

  The glass doors of The Barrel were pushed wide open and the inside of the place seemed to be spilling out into the open. Groups of folks were standing around with glasses in hand and the smell of food tantalized the nostrils. Inside, Alison led the way. They threaded their way between tables that seemed to be randomly placed in several rooms and finally emerged into a room that was a bar. Jonno waved them over. He had grabbed a table with enough seats and Olive was spreading herself over them as a guard.

  “Guinness?” Jonno asked and Sam said he would have it as he was in Ireland. Magda saw that Branna had ordered a half pint of the same and decided to have the local specialty as well.

  “Gin and tonic for me,” Alison added. Sam went to the bar with Jonno while the women settled into seats and looked around. Olive waved to several people.

  “This looks to be a very popular place,” Magda said, and her aunt nodded.

  “The food is good and not too expensive.”

  “Euros sort of baffle me,” Sam confessed. “I think that the drinks are cheaper here than in America though.”

  “Ireland is not too bad for living expenses,” Olive answered and waved to a couple on the far side of the room. The woman was slightly overdressed for a relaxed bar room and sported a great deal of flashy jewelry. Magda could see that even from a distance. Her hair color was a shade too purple but obviously expertly cut into a shaped bob around her cheekbones.

  “That is Alison’s namesake,” Olive said quietly. “They are called Carty as well. Mind you there are countless Cartys in the place so that is not surprising. Done very well for themselves, especially the way business has boomed these last few years. He is Jerry Carty. He’s very proud of being a Carty. Keen on family history. He’s an artist of some sort.”

  “She looks like she’s wearing the profits,” Magda said with a smile and Alison agreed.

  “Bit too showy I think,” Sam’s aunt remarked, “but she is a pleasant woman underneath the bling.”

  “She will have noticed your deep plum color hair,” Branna smiled at Magda. “I might even try that myself.”

  “So, as we are on the Cartys,” Jonno said, “tell Magda about the witches who were Cartys and lived in the cottage.”

  “Really?” Magda asked and looked at Olive who nodded.

  “All sorts of Kilkenny witch stories are written about, and told, but the last one to be burned at the stake lived in Alison’s house.”

  “I guess that would be the old part of the house,” Sam added, and the woman went on.

  “You are right. There would be no other houses around it at that time and it was said the locals all avoided the place. The woman lived with her husband and grew all of the herbs and plants she needed for her potions in the back garden which is still there.”

  “If you look up the witch of Kilkenny, called Belinda Carty, there are stories about how she made cough medicines and soothing creams for people who came and asked for them. She lived in the cottage of the waterside.”

  “And my house is Waterside Cottage but there is no water,” Alison added.

  “Maybe she was just trying to help people,” Sam suggested.

  “May well be,” Olive said, “but her husband told the local lord that she was a witch and they took and burned her.”

  “Her husband?” Magda asked in amazement. “Why, I wonder?”

  Olive smiled and said, “He went off and married a rich woman.”

  “Nothing changes, does it?” Alison mused. “People are greedy and nasty and don’t care who gets hurt as long as they get what they want.”

  “I must go and look at the garden. Do you suppose the plants are seedlings from those of years ago?” Magda asked.

  “Well I know the angelica always keeps on going and it is very beautiful,” Alison answered, and Olive added that it was always a good plant - from the angels.

  “I can feel a whole lot of Magda research online coming up,” Sam said.

  “I think the Carty’s family tree might be quite interesting,” Magda added.

  “We met a lovely woman on the last ghost hunt who said she was a white witch. I guess she would know what the plants were used for,” Branna told them. “She did say that she would like to meet up again.”

  At that point they were distracted by a group of three young men dressed in leathers swaggering through the place. People gave them a wide berth and Sam wondered if maybe the place wasn’t as safe as it seemed. Jonno stood up and waved. The three men all came over with grins on their faces and the situation was suddenly different. They back slapped each other and did those man hug things as Branna explained through the mayhem that Jonno was a motorcycle nut and so were the others.

  Sam relaxed. They pushed around chairs to make space and the three young men sat down with the group and dropped their helmets at the side of the room.

  “Meet our visitors from America,” Jonno said and introduced Sam and Magda. The first question that was asked was if they had a Harley back home. Sam smiled and shook his head.

  “I used to have one when I was younger,” he said. “I am just too old for that stuff now. Got a big noisy truck instead,” and grinned. That brought a flood of questions about what sort of bike he used to have and what was now popular in the States. Jonno brought beers over for the newcomers and Branna finally managed to get the conversation away from motorcycles.

  “Your family are Cartys, aren’t they, Ricky?” The man nodded and asked why. “These visitors might buy Alison’s cottage and were interested in the witch stories.”

  “Ah, yes, mum would know a lot of stuff,” Ricky answered and gave a rambling account of his family history that nobody could really follow. “She’ll tell you about the stone altar that was taken from the garden and never found.”

  “Haven’t seen her for ages,” Alison said. “Be good to talk to her.”

  “Stone altar?” Magda asked intrigued.

  “Supposed to bring wealth to whoever had it,” another of the bikers, called Mattie, added.

  Magda looked around at the group of cheerful, friendly faces and thought how comfortable she felt in this country so far from home. The others were explaining to the bikers about her café and chocolates and Sam’s construction business. She felt as if she had known these people for years. She let the conversation flow around her, and her ears perked up when she heard Ricky ask her about why she was interested in the witch stories.

  “There are loads of castles, ghost tours and places to visit,” Branna joined in.

  “It does give me new ideas for
truffles,” Magda confessed, “but I guess with the ghost cat and everything, I now have a real interest.”

  “My mum would remember loads,” Ricky said. “She is divorced now. Dad would remember stuff as well.”

  “Don’t want to cause trouble,” Magda told him, but he shook his head.

  “They still meet up and talk to each other.” He pulled out his cell phone and called his mother. Magda smiled because she could hear the Irish welcome even over the phone. He covered the phone and said that his mum said they should go for coffee in the morning. Magda looked at Alison who nodded and Olive did the same.

  “That would be lovely,” she said, and Ricky repeated it to his mother.

  “Alison and Olive know where she lives.” The three bikers pushed back their chairs and grabbed their helmets.

  “We should meet up again,” Ricky said as Sam stood up to let them squeeze out. He was just agreeing when they heard a man and woman say that folk like those bikers should not be allowed in. Their group of friends agreed with them. Things started to look not so pleasant.

  “They’ve only had one drink,” Sam reasoned. “Just let things calm down.”

  “Don’t spoil my nephew’s holiday folks,” Alison said and went to the bar. The man called out that there were drinks on the lady and there was a scramble for the counter. In the ensuing rush, the bikers left, and the woman and man decided to leave as well.

  “Thanks, Aunt Alison,” Sam said. “I’ll halve the cost with you.”

  “We’ll split it between us,” Jonno said. “It was a good idea.” The pleasant atmosphere returned. Several people came and thanked them. One or two said that all the Irish were not like that and to have a good time.

  “I guess bars are the same the world over,” Sam said. “I enjoyed the Guinness.”

  “If you like, Jonno and I can give you a sort of ghost tour,” Branna told them.

  “Gotta work the next two days but after that, if you would like it,” Jonno added and they said by then they would be over their jet lag.

  “You are seeing Ricky’s mom, Irene, tomorrow,” Alison added.

  “I am liking Ireland,” Magda said as they eventually headed back to the car and the cottage.

  “Thanks for inviting us over, Alison.”

  “My pleasure,” Alison told her. “You are really my only family although I have some half cousins back home.” Then she added that they would be tired and suggested an early night.

  Magda curled into the shape of Sam in the soft, double bed.

  “Love ya, Sam,” she said as he wrapped his arms around her.

  “Love you right back, Mrs. Barnes.” He looked up. “I wonder what the loft is like?” She gave him a dig in the ribs.

  “So much to research - plants, witches, Kilkenny and the family history.” She looked at the man beside her and smiled. His eyes were already closed. “I am one lucky girl, Sam Barnes,” she whispered and realized how tired she was.

  As she drifted away, she wondered how the cats were doing at home and then felt a movement at her feet. The little black cat, Jezebelle had settled on the bed.

  4

  Aunt Alison was up and quietly cooking breakfast when Magda came out with Jezebelle in her arms.

  “Little minx,” Alison said. “She deserted me. Put her outside for me, please.” Magda took the cat to the courtyard and wandered outside herself. It was another beautiful day and the garden looked lovely. She decided to try the app she found the day before and looked at one or two plants, lined up a photo and the screen told her the name of the plant.

  “That is so cool,” she said out loud and did a few more. “So, these trees at the bottom are rowan or Sorbus Aucuparia.” She flicked a screen and it told her that the tree was very hardy and had leaf color and berries in the fall. The app correctly named the Angelica and gave her Prunella, Saponaria and Monkshood. This last one was a beautiful shade of deep blue. Alison called out that breakfast was ready and when she went inside, Sam was already enjoying bacon and eggs.

  She told the others about the app between mouthfuls and showed them the pictures.

  “The Monkshood is very poisonous. I do know that,” Alison said. “I keep meaning to dig it out and get rid of it but just never get around to it. I must say that this garden does look after itself. If you take out some weeds in the early spring, the plants themselves do the rest.”

  “Maybe the poisonous ones were useful to the witches,” Sam remarked.

  “I took a lot of pictures. Maybe I should do some research for their properties.” Magda said. Alison cleared away and told them that they would leave in about an hour to see Irene.

  “Have a look around the house whenever you feel like it,” Alison told them. “Do you like it so far?”

  “I do. I think it is gorgeous,” Magda answered, and Sam agreed.

  “Can I look in the loft?” he asked.

  Magda smiled. “He has his construction hat on.”

  “I think,” Sam added, “that the wooden beams in the roof will tell you how old the place really is.”

  “I never knew that,” Alison told him. “You would have to bring the ladder in from the shed. There’s no light or electricity up there.”

  “The flashlight on my phone should be enough,” he answered and went to find the ladder.

  The opening to the loft space was in the living room and he pushed the solid, heavy cover to one side with a bit of an effort. He poked his head above the edge and shone the light.

  “You’re right. Big empty space.” He heaved himself into the loft and disappeared from view. “Got to stand on the beams,” he called out. “It has never been floored.” There was silence apart from some scuffling noises and then Sam whistled.

  “What have you found?” Magda called and went up the ladder to take a look.

  “These beams are the original, I would think,” he told her. “A dendrochronologist would be able to date it exactly.” He flashed the beam of light around the entire area. “This whole space could be turned into a sort of apartment.” He made his way back to the opening and climbed down.

  “Sound, dry, strong and very large,” he told his aunt.

  “What’s a dendrochronologist?” she asked.

  “They drill a piece of wood out and carbon date it to within a couple of years. Would you and all of the family who has now passed on, be annoyed if we turned the loft into a holiday apartment?”

  “Of course not,” she said. “But let’s go and meet Irene.”

  They collected Olive and headed towards Kilkenny. The visitors were impressed as the car skirted around the edges of the city, giving them glimpses of the historic layout. The spires of the cathedral were visible in the middle from almost every viewpoint.

  “The castle is slightly outside of the city and has beautiful gardens. It was first built about twelve hundred or so but has been altered over the centuries.” Olive told them.

  “Twelve hundred? As in a thousand years ago?” Magda queried incredulously and Alison nodded.

  “I know. I was amazed at first as well,” Alison explained. “The Normans conquered Britain - you know ten sixty-six and all that - and then sent lords over to Ireland and took over here as well.”

  “Well no wonder there are ghosts,” Magda added. “Those streets of shops look fascinating.”

  “There are lots of pedestrian-only places now to preserve the history, which also appeals to the tourists.” She swung the car into a driveway and pulled to a stop. “Let’s have lunch in the city and take a quick look after we’ve visited here.”

  Irene Carty ushered them inside with a beaming smile and served everyone with coffee and cake.

  “Let me tell you about the witches of your house,” she started, like a teacher with youngsters. They settled back to enjoy it.

  “The cottage by the waterside was mentioned in a lot of records for one thing and another. The family name always seemed to be Carty although sometimes other people lived in the house as well. Belinda C
arty married into the family as I did myself.” Irene paused for effect and looked at her visitors. “Please help yourself to more cake,” she added and then told them that Belinda was not really well known until they burned her at the stake.

  “I guess it was a sort of public entertainment,” said Magda as she shuddered.

  “She had been known for her potions to soften the skin or ease aching bones. I suppose some girls asked her for love potions, but she was never seen as nasty. There must have been water nearby but maybe the stream was diverted or dried up over the years. Some stories mention a well by the altar stone.”

  “What was this stone?” Sam queried.

  “Nobody really knows,” Irene added. “It was something that stood in the garden and maybe they used it for rituals and things, but it was stolen. It was only stolen a hundred years ago or so. It was always said to bring luck and good fortune to the owners.”

  “Didn’t bring luck to Belinda,” Magda observed.

  “But it was her husband who owned it and he married a rich heiress. Some of us Cartys must be descendants in one way or another but none of us knows.” Irene answered. “When I talked to my ex, he chattered on about stories that said that there were people who knew where it was and kept it a secret.” She added that there was a stone pendant as well that was held by the women of the family. “If Belinda had worn it, she would have been safe.”

  “Maybe her husband made sure she didn’t have it,” Magda suggested. “What a charmer he must have been.” Then she saw the look on Alison’s face. “What?” There was silence as Alison took a breath.

  “I think I have it.”

  “The pendant?” Magda, Olive and Irene all said together, and Sam’s aunt nodded her head.

  “If we go back home, I can find it.” The whole lot of them piled excitedly into cars and set off for Waterside Cottage. Inside, Alison rushed off to her bedroom and came back with a small briefcase. Underneath a layer of papers there was a small package and she opened it to display a stone shaped like an arrowhead but longer and thinner and in the center of it was what looked like a piece of glass. There was a hole in one end and a piece of fine leather was threaded through it to make it possible to wear it around the neck.