Miss Spelled Page 7

  ‘My mother doesn’t approve of anyone. Look, I’m sorry, I have no idea who you are. I’ve never met anyone by the name of…’

  ‘Lou,’ I say, my mouth barely able to pronounce the word.

  ‘Ah right, Lou. You’ve probably got me confused with someone else. I can put you onto reception and perhaps they can help you,’ he says.

  He’s still so nice, wanting to help a nutty stranger.

  My voice is gone.

  ‘Hello? Are you still there?’ he asks.

  ‘Yes, I’m still… wait! I can prove that you know me. You live in a two-bedroom apartment on Southbank. Your parents live in Toorak. You attended Geelong Grammar with Hunter Wincott, who you hated at school because he was a bully to the other kids. We both love Rocky Road ice cream and drinking raspberry cordial mixed with lemonade. You hate pistachios. You see? I do know you,’ I plead.

  ‘And you say that you are my fiancée?’ he says.

  ‘Yes! Yes, I am. Oh Aiden, I’m so glad you remember me now!’

  ‘How did we meet?’

  ‘At a charity fun run around Albert Park Lake. I was dressed as a fairy, running with a silver wig, big red nose and a pair of sparkly wings’ I said. ‘You had finished the course and came back to help keep me going because you said that I ran like a duck and looked like I was in pain. It was to raise money for children suffering heart complications, remember?’

  ‘Why would a fairy have a big red nose?’

  ‘Because the kids loved it, you loved it. Please tell me you remember.’

  Aiden lets out a cross between a sigh and a small laugh. ‘I almost wish I did. It sounds like fun, but no. I am really sorry but I have never met you.’

  ‘How would I know all that stuff about you if we’d never met? About Hunter Wincott. You hate him, don’t you?’

  ‘I can’t explain how you know all of that. In fact, it’s pretty disturbing that you know so much about me, so maybe it’s best if you don’t call again. Okay? I’d hate to have to call the police on you.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘Goodbye, Lou. Please don’t call me again.’

  The phone goes dead, as does my heart.

  Chapter 7

  ‘The spell,’ I mumble. ‘It worked, but…not like it was meant to.’

  ‘What spell?’ Mum asks.

  ‘It looks like the spell did more than just erase Hunter’s memory.’

  A sole tear runs down the length of my cheek and my chin starts to quiver.

  ‘Lou, darls, what is it? Did another man break your heart?’ Mum asks.

  ‘Maybe, but hopefully not yet. I’ve got to call Mel.’

  Mel answers on the fourth ring.

  ‘Thank God you’re there,’ I say. ‘Something’s happened, something bad, from the spell last night.’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘The spell. The one to erase that rat-bastard’s memory,’ I blurt.

  ‘What spell? Lou, what are you talking about?’

  The muscles in my chest contract. This blunder is bigger than I’d first thought. It isn’t just Hunter’s memory that was affected, it’s everyone’s, except mine.

  ‘Where are you? I need to see you. Now,’ I say.

  ‘I’m at home.’

  ‘Great. Where is that exactly?’

  ‘Look out the back door, Lou,’ Mel says.

  I make my way to the back door, open it and am gobsmacked to find a small self-contained granny flat in the backyard. Mum and Dad had toyed with the idea for years but Dad had never found the time to build it because he was so busy trying to earn a living building for other people.

  ‘Oh…it…when…?’ My mouth fumbles around the abstract thoughts floating around in my headspace. There she is, Mel smiling and waving from inside the flat.

  ‘You live here? In the backyard!’

  This is too strange. Just what the hell happened with that spell?

  The spongy grass cushions my journey across the backyard to Mel’s oversized cubby house.

  ‘Are you alright? You look kind of…mentally disturbed,’ Mel says.

  ‘What did we do last night?’ I ask.

  Mel scrunches her mouth to the side and says, ‘I was here, watching television and sipping on cold wine, and you were out and about.’

  I deflate. ‘We didn’t go to the Crown Towers or cast a spell?’

  Mel shakes her head and tilts it to the side, the way a dog does when it can’t make sense of something. My voice has begun to rise in pitch and my speech accelerates as the words throw themselves out of my mouth.

  ‘It was a spell that you found on the internet, from Majique, to erase me from the memory of the rat-bastard, so that he wouldn’t tell Aiden that we’d had a relationship 11 years ago,’ I prattle away, without any regard as to how much of a loony this probably makes me sound.

  Mel gives me a look that screams ‘crazy lady’, and it’s clear that she is just plain confused by all of this. And a bit scared.

  ‘Why don’t you come and sit down and…rest for a little while. You’ve been under a bit of stress lately, maybe it’s all come to a head. You know, been too much for you to cope with. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, we all have our breaking point.’

  She takes my hand, drags me across the room and plants me on the floral upholstered couch. She sits down, but not as close as usual.

  ‘I’m not at breaking point, it’s just that…’ How can this tale be relayed to Mel without me being mistaken for a right raving loony?

  A large breath fills my lungs and restores a fraction of calm. A tranquil mind is the only way to start, just like on the days of a high wind at school when the kids are scatty and driving me to insanity.

  ‘Are you a teacher?’ I ask.

  ‘Of course I am.’

  ‘Do you teach prep at St. Andrews?’

  Mel laughs, a nervous kind of laugh.

  ‘Bear with me, Mel. It will all make sense in the end.’ Really? Will it, or will it just end with a trip to the psychiatrists and a prescription for Valium?

  Mel gives me a smile that shows she is trying to be patient, but is finding it difficult.

  ‘Yes, I do teach prep at St. Andrews.’

  Okay, so a couple of things are the same with Mel. Time for the big question.

  ‘What am I?’

  The look on her face shows she is only a poofteenth away from moving to the other end of the couch, towards the door and bellowing for Mum to call an ambulance.

  ‘Please, humour me,’ I say.

  I hold my breath and bunch my fists in my lap in hope that Mel’s answer will be different to Mum’s.

  ‘Okay. You work as an executive assistant at a temp agency.’

  As if in a vortex, all life leaves me. My hands flop open and my limp body falls backwards on the couch. Shit! What the hell has happened?

  ‘Lou, what’s going on?’

  ‘I’ve done something crazy. Stupid crazy. Life-changing, stupid crazy.’

  Mel face wrinkles in concern. ‘Tell me. What’s happened?’

  Although we are bestest-ever friends, I am at a loss as to how much to say. At what point does an interesting case of confusion become ambulance sirens, a straightjacket and refuge in an institution for an indeterminate amount of time?

  But then again, if anyone is going to believe me, it will be Mel. Or Ben. Ben! Jeez, this would be right up his alley, proof of alternate realities or hocus pocus or something sciencey. This would freak his enormous PhD genius brain. Maybe he’s the one to talk to? But where is he? If everything else was different, and everyone’s lives had changed to some degree, what’s had happened to Ben?

  ‘Where’s Ben?’ I ask, as life is injected back into me and my sit-up-and-pay-attention position is resumed.

  Mel hesitates.

  ‘Ben, you know, Ben. My brother?’ A stab of fear runs through the entire length of my body. Please, please, don’t let anything have happened to Ben.

  ‘He’s…’

  ‘H
e’s alright, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, of course he is. He’s right…’

  ‘Hey sis!’ Ben calls as he makes his way out of what looks to be the bedroom. Running shorts slung low around his hips and his dark, slightly long, curly hair dripping onto broad, toned shoulders—the kind of shoulders that action heroes have, the kind that male underwear models have. The kind of shoulders Ben had always dreamed of having, but never got because he preferred to exercise his brain instead of his biceps.

  It’s lucky my bum is firmly planted on the couch, otherwise I would have fallen over.

  ‘Ben?’

  ‘Last time I checked,’ he says as he takes a banana off the fruit pile and begins to peel it. The muscles in his shoulders are visible underneath his skin and ripple as he undresses the banana. The light smattering of hair on his chest catches some of the drips of water. He should be on the cover of Men’s Health instead of Astrophysics Weekly.

  ‘But you’ve got…muscles. Look at them! You’re not…’ What’s a nice word to use? ‘Nerdy?’ he says.

  Mel bursts into laughter.

  ‘You’re still a brainiac though, right?’

  Ben smiles. ‘Yep, head of the department as of yesterday. The youngest ever!’

  ‘Wow! Well done.’ It seems as though everyone’s lives have been propelled beyond their wildest dreams. Except mine, which has taken a nosedive into a bottomless pit full of spiders, scorpions and slime.

  ‘Anyway, I’m off to the campus gym before work. I’ll see you later, Lou,’ he says and then bends down to kiss Mel. ‘I love you,’ he says and smiles at her. It’s so beautiful!

  He runs out the door and is gone. Oh well, so much for Ben making sense of all of this. I tear myself away from the current confusion surrounding the appearance of my brother, and return to my former confusion of, well, everything else.

  ‘Do you promise not to interrupt me or look at me like I’ve lost my marbles?’

  Mel nods.

  My tale of woe includes the events of last night, followed by the events of this morning as they have presented themselves. Although I can’t bring myself to say Hunter’s name, and just continue to refer to him as ‘the rat-bastard’.

  ‘And of course the worst thing is that Aiden doesn’t know me. I have to figure out a way to undo this mess and get back to normal, because living the rest of my life without him is not an option.’

  For the first time all morning, I allow myself to think of losing Aiden. A physical ache comes over my entire body at the thought of never being in his arms again. Quickly ejecting the thought from my mind— now is not the time to give in — I notice it appears as though Mel is very nervous at sitting on the same couch as me.

  Silence fills the room. Uncomfortable silence.

  ‘So, what do you think? You think I’m crazy, don’t you?’

  She looks to be pondering this question.

  Suddenly, it strikes me. ‘Hang on! Why are you living in the backyard?’ I ask.

  Mel gives me another look of ‘Oh my…Lou hasn’t lost her marbles, they’ve run off and left her, hiding in the thick mental fog that used to be occupied by sunshine and happiness.’

  ‘We’re married.’

  ‘What?’ I say and then launch into a coughing fit. ‘You and Ben? No way!’

  ‘Lou, maybe we should take you to the hospital or mental health clinic?’ Mel says. ‘This is really…weird, you not remembering anything. We’ve been married for two years now.’

  I don’t know whether to cry out of confusion or happiness.

  ‘You’re married? But…how?’

  ‘The usual way, with vows, ceremony and a reception,’ she says.

  In a burst of excitement, I launch and throw my arms around Mel, tears running down my face.

  ‘Oh my God! This is so great!’ I say.

  My best friend and my brother! Both unlucky in love in the other life, but they’ve managed to find each other here. Why the hell didn’t I think of matching them up years ago? Probably because they’ve know each other since prep as well, so it never occurred to me that they would have anything other than a platonic friendship. Holy cow!

  ‘So, Mum and Dad are going on a holiday?’

  ‘They go on two a year since they semi-retired,’ says Mel.

  ‘Retired? No way!’

  ‘So, Mum and Dad are semi-retired, the house is completely renovated, you two are married and living here…’ I think aloud. ‘I’m just staying over the night, because of the school holidays and will go back to my cottage today. Most things have improved.’

  ‘Cottage?’

  ‘Yes, in Briar Hill. The one I bought five years ago and renovated with Dad.’ I say.

  Mel shakes her head from side to side. ‘Sorry Lou, but there’s no cottage.’

  ‘It’s gone?’ I ask, getting bit teary again, but out of sadness this time.

  ‘You’ve never owned a property. You live here with Mum and Dad, in the house.’

  Tears fall from my dazed eyes at the thought of losing my job, my cottage and the love of my life. Just what the hell have I done? I need to find this Majique.

  * * *

  I locate Majique’s website and whip my phone out at the speed of a thousand startled gazelles to dial her 1800 number. After a few rings, it’s answered. My heart is beating wildly, either in the hope that she will be able to fix everything or in fear that she won’t.

  ‘Welcome to Majique’s. Your call will be charged at the rate of $4 per minute. If you wish to continue, please enter your credit card number after the beep…’

  Are you kidding me? $4 per minute? That’s more than most high class hookers make.

  Beep!

  I know my credit card details off by heart, due to paying most bills online, so I punch the numbers in, begrudgingly.

  ‘In order to direct your query better, please choose from the following options…’

  Please don’t tell me that this is a call centre where people are reading off scripts and it’s going to take me half an hour, at $4 a minute, to reach an operator.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Mel says.

  I shush her and wave my hand. I don’t want to miss the option for ‘spells that have caused complete disarray and havoc’.

  The second option seems to suit me the best—‘spell queries’. This is just ridiculous. I feel like a complete and utter loser, but must persevere because this is probably the only help available.

  A small eternity passes before my call is answered by a woman with an exotic accent.

  ‘Hello, you have reached Majique’s Spellery. This is Majique. How can I help you?’

  I put the phone on loud speaker so that Mel can hear everything.

  ‘Oh, hello. Um…my name’s Lou and I purchased a spell from your internet site last night…’ I say.

  ‘Which spell did you purchase?’ she says.

  ‘The Deletion Spell, to delete myself from the mind of another.’

  ‘Mmmm, yes, go on please,’ she says.

  ‘Well, I cast the spell last night…’

  ‘You cast the spell last night?’ She screeches so loudly that the phone vibrates.

  ‘Well, yes,’ I say, slightly confused. ‘Was I meant to wait? Like a cooling-off period or something?’

  ‘Let me get this clear, you cast the spell last night?’

  Her tone is very accusatory and isn’t instilling any confidence that she will be able to help me at all.

  ‘I had to. It was an emergency,’ I say, getting defensive.

  ‘You cast a deletion spell on a Black Moon? Did you not read the instructions?’ she trills.

  ‘Well…yes, but you don’t understand. I had run out of time…’

  ‘You never, ever, ever cast a deletion spell on the night of a Black Moon. You don’t cast any spells on the night of a Black Moon. It is a time for rest and rejuvenation only.’

  ‘But…I’m not a witch. I didn’t know it was a Black Moon. I don’t even know what a Black Moon
is.’

  ‘A Black Moon is the second dark moon of the month. It’s rare and extremely powerful. Casting a Deletion Spell on such a night will result in a completely unpredictable outcome.’

  ‘Well, you got that right. Everything’s gone to mud,’ I say.

  Although what she is saying isn’t good news, at least it’s some sort of an explanation and makes me look like less of a crazy lady in front of Mel.

  ‘Tell me everything,’ she says.

  So I do. Everything. After I have finished there is a long silence. Another uncomfortable silence.

  ‘Hello? Are you still there?’

  ‘Yes, I am here. This is incredible. I’ve only ever had one case like this before. This is terrible. By trying to delete a memory, you actually deleted the entire event. This is what your life would have been had you never met this Hunter man.’

  ‘So, you’ve got experience with this. Is it undo-able? Can I get my life back?’ I ask.

  Another long silence.

  ‘It didn’t end well last time. Trust me, you don’t want to make things worse.’

  ‘What happened last time?’

  ‘She ended up deleting herself. Poof! Gone.’

  ‘What? Where is she?’

  ‘I searched for her and it appears that she entered the world in-between worlds. Not a place you want to be stranded.’

  ‘No, no! Definitely not! But, can anything be done?’

  ‘You see, it is not just your own life you have changed, it is the lives of everyone around you. If it were possible to reverse the spell, their lives too would revert to what they were. This spell is bigger than just you.’

  ‘You mean that Mum and Dad wouldn’t be retired and about to go on holidays, and my brother and best friend wouldn’t be married?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes, that is exactly what I mean. To put your life back to what it was, is to put everyone else’s back to what theirs was as well, if it works out that way at all.’

  ‘So, if you can reverse the spell, then I will get Aiden back, and my cottage, but no one else will continue on in their current state of happiness? It’s my happiness in exchange for theirs?’

  ‘I am afraid so,’ she says softly.

  Well, that just sucks, doesn’t it? I can have my life back, but at the expense of everyone I love and their happiness and success. How can they be expected to bear the brunt of my error, of my silly decision to cast a spell rather than just be open and honest with Aiden about Hunter?