The Wolf Spinner

The wind screamed, and the rain drummed a heavy metal riff on the roof of the Landrover. It was making more noise than the classical music coming from the radio. Saffron Talbot peered out of the windscreen. This weather was frightening. Saffy wanted to be inside, warm in the cottage. This road didn't even have streetlights, not that they would have been any use, as the trees were so thick. The boughs were bending like a roof over the road. Saffron leaned forward, clutching the steering wheel. She looked at her phone stuck to the windscreen.

Was Doris the Sat Nav sending her in the right direction? Doris had been quiet for the last few miles. Her phone screen was black, no internet, no 4G, nothing.

"Great."

The road was straight, and no turn offs she could see in the next ten yards that her headlights illuminated. Saffron turned the radio up. All she could do was carry on and hope that the tree roots were long and well established. She was humming along to Beethoven's 7th Symphony when right in front of her, something shot across the road.

"Wow! What the hell..."

Saffron slammed the brakes on. Was it a deer, poor thing she would have to see if it was okay? Saffron looked in the rear-view mirror, and she saw something on the verge. She reversed the vehicle and pulled up in front of the animal. She got out and grabbed the torch from the door. The rain soaking her through in seconds as it pounded into her. She struggled in the wind to reach the back of the Landrover.

Saffron gasped, "Oh my God!" she looked at the naked man laying on the grass, the rain and his blood mingling and running down his face and into his thick stubble. She opened the back of the car and grabbed a blanket to cover him.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hit you. I'll get my phone and call an ambulance,"

"No, no ambulance," he gasped. She was already on the way to the front of the car, grabbing her phone and running back to him. Except... He wasn't there. Not even a mark of where he had been on the wet grass. Although, he seemed to have taken her blanket with him.

The rain made black rat's tails of Saffron's hair, and they slapped her in the face as she shook her head, wondering what was going on. Did she really see a naked man at the side of the road? That wasn't the only thing that puzzled her. Why hadn't she felt the emotions of that man? She could feel everyone, and that was why she had left London, to stop feeling the emotions of every person she made eye contact with. W she so puzzled by what she had seen that her abilities had not kicked in. Huh, that had never happened before. It was shocking to see anybody out in this weather, but a naked man running in the forest?

"Saffy, you are losing your mind, you've driven a long way, you're tired, and now you are soaking through to your skin," she muttered.

She concentrated her thoughts on the man, but there was no feeling at all. That was impossible. She could feel everyone's emotions. She had met no one who could lock their feelings away from her. Her jeans were now soggy as she sat in the driving seat again, and she wished that she had stayed at the inn she had passed a while back. Her late grandmother's cottage could not be much further.

"Come on, Doris, do your stuff." Saffy peered through the windscreen. It looked as if the rain had stopped, and the sky was blazing with stars. Doris kicked into life and instructed Saffron to drive for one hundred metres. Turn right, and you have reached your destination.

When Saffy pulled up, the cottage was dark, thatched, and she was sure that if she stood on tiptoe, she could reach the windowsill of the bedrooms. She had never been here to see her grandmother. Saffy's mum had argued with her Gran, and even though Saffy had never even met her grandmother, she had left everything to her.

Saffron parked the Landrover at the side of the cottage and pulled her phone from the sucker on the windscreen. She grabbed her bag and peeled her wet jeans from the seat. Standing by the car, Saffron looked at the chocolate-box-pretty cottage. The sky lightened for a moment, and Saffron swayed and grabbed hold of the car handle. God, was she that tired? The cottage seemed to move too as if in a heat mirage, like when you're driving on a hot day and the road in front seems half disappear. The front door was at the side of the house, with its own little thatched roof. There was a small square window in the white-painted door. Picking a key from the bundle on the keyring, she tried it in the lock. The door was stuck, stiff because of the rain, and Saffron pushed it hard.

The first thing Saffron noticed when she went inside the house was the smell. The house smelled like a garden. She could smell flowers, Pinks, Jasmine, and fresh greenery, and that was just in the hallway. That was odd, thought Saffy. They had locked the cottage up a year ago, well, the solicitors had, and as far as she knew, no one had been in it since. Was the smell coming from one of those plug-in air fresheners? Saffron looked around. She couldn't see one anywhere. Dropping her bag at the bottom of the stairs, she walked down the hallway to the closed door at the end. It was warm in the house as if the radiators had been on for days. The gas bill would be enormous.

Saffron opened the door at the end of the hall. That was strange. The table lamps were on, casting a beautiful golden glow over the room and the smell, Sweetpeas and freesia. The room was idyllic, Saffy imagined she would have to decorate, but the room was photoshoot ready. Decorated in cream and blue with what looked like the antique furniture that she loved. The kitchen smelled of lemon; it was fresh and immaculate.

There were two doors at the end of the kitchen, one was the laundry room. Saffy cautiously opened the remaining door. The smell was enticing, of spices and herbs, and a smell that she couldn't put her finger on, but it was the smell of a far off memory, one that she couldn't quite grab. The walls had open shelves, and they held hundreds of bottles of all different sizes. On another wall were piles of ledgers and books labelled Illness, Truth, Lies, and Love. Hanging from the ceiling were bunches of herbs and other plants, bunches of feathers, and... What was that Saffy squinted at the ceiling, bunches of tied fur? Laughing inside, she would no doubt find a cauldron and a jar of frog's legs in a minute.

Saffron shook her head. She was too tired to look at this and make any sense out of it. As she walked out of the room, she knocked a bottle off the shelf; it was only a small bottle, and it smashed on the red-tiled floor. Heaving a sigh, she left it until tomorrow. The warmth of the cottage was making her sleepy, so sleepy.

Saffron hardly remembered going up the rickety stairs to the bedroom. When she opened the door, the lavender smell filled her nose, and she was asleep before her head touched the soft feather pillow. Saffron awoke when the birds outside the window chirped loudly enough to wake her up. She pulled the handmade quilt over her head, and she closed her eyes, intending to sleep again. But a tendril of excitement was curling in her belly. She was in her new home, away from the millions of people in London. A place where she had to wear headphones and the darkest sunglasses she could find, to avoid the emotions of all the people she walked past. Not to mention the ones she sat opposite on the Tube. There were no people here, only birds and small furry animals. The only emotion they felt was where was the next meal coming from.

There was a bluetit tapping against the window, "Bloody hell, you're worse than an alarm clock, hang on, I'm sure I saw some bird food in the kitchen." Saffy found the bag of bird seeds, but before she went back upstairs, she couldn't resist looking into the strange room. Oh, and she had to clean that bottle up. She found a dustpan and a brush and opened the door, expecting to find glass on the floor. Hang on a minute. She wasn't dreaming. She knocked the bottle over, and there was a space on the shelf, and the smashed bottle should be on the floor. The shelf was full, and there was no glass on the floor or liquid that had spilt out of it. Saffy walked further into the room. There was a piece of paper on the large oak table. That definitely hadn't been there last night. She picked it up and then dropped it quickly. It fell with the writing face up.

Please be careful with the jars, Saffy dear, I'm so glad you are here. Love Granny.

Jack shook his head. He'd met some strange creatures in his life. Still, none were as odd as Clint Walker. Which was the name he had taken once he had watched 'The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly' and had a bit of a vamp-crush on Clint Eastwood. He was a vampire, doctor, charity worker, and a kind, good-hearted soul, even if he didn't have one of those. He was a couple of hundred years older than Jack, and the fascination with the human body was Clint's raison d'être, even in those far-off days. Jack had found him in a churchyard digging bodies up so that he could examine them.

That was how he'd become a Vampire. The guy had dug a body up, and it wasn't as dead as it should be, and the old Vamp wasn't too happy that he'd had his beauty sleep disturbed. These days, Clint was a Dr at the local hospital, and he gave his wages to the local charities. He didn't need money; neither of them did. They had made millions over the years.

The next morning Jack's housekeeper, Edyth Hargreaves, washed and dried the blanket. Edyth was not of the 'otherworld', but she was not an unbeliever, which was unusual for a no-nonsense Yorkshire woman. Edyth took everything in her stride. When she had caught Jack changed to Silver, Edyth just carried on vacuuming. She warned Silver that if he wanted a gravy bone, he'd have to get off that sofa and behave himself.

During the coffee time, Edyth said, "Someone has moved into Honoria Talbot's cottage. It must be her granddaughter. Nora told me she would be coming to live here."

"Ahh, that's who the blanket belongs to. I'll take it over and introduce myself," said Jack scoffing Edyth's homemade ginger biscuits.

"Well, don't let Silver out. Nora had some delicate ornaments, and Silver's tail can be a menace. Besides, not everyone likes a Lycan rubbing up against the paintwork."

"It's a good job I like her ginger biscuits," Silver murmured.

Jack took the car to Granny Talbot's. He had the blanket folded and a box of Edyth's biscuits on the car's passenger seat. It wasn't far to the Talbot cottage, much nearer to his house as the crow flies, but it was a couple of miles to go all around by road.

Jack parked his car on the road, walked up the drive past the Land Rover, and knocked on the door.

Saffy's heart jolted when she heard the knock on the front door. Finding that note this morning had put her all about. Her grandmother was dead, so who the hell wrote that note and cleared it away. She was sitting on the sofa and had been for most of the day. Would she walk into the ghost of her granny? Would she wake up and find her sitting on the bed?

She went to open the door. It was a man, a very tall man. "Can I help you?"

"I've brought your blanket back, and some of my housekeepers wonderful ginger biscuits s a thank you for trying to rescue me."

"Oh, it's you? sorry I didn't recognise you with your clothes on." Saffy gave a slight grin,

Jack raised a brow and quirked his mouth, "I suppose that comment was par for the course," he half-heartedly grumbled. Silver was rolling on his back. His tail wagging like crazy and with his mouth open and laughing as much as a wolf could. "Fuck off, you oversized poodle," Jack said, linking to Silver, which made Sliver roll about even more.

"Good morning, Mrs Talbot," he said, looking over Saffy's shoulder and raising his hand in greeting.

"Er, just hold your horses matey, who are you talking to," Saffy demanded, spinning around to see if anyone was there.

"Mrs Talbot, she's your grandmother, isn't she? What's your name, anyway?"

"Saffron," she said, spinning around again. "Where is she?"

"Who?"

"My grandmother?"

"I think she went to put the kettle on," Jack said, nodding towards the kitchen.

Saffron ran to the kitchen, there were three mugs with tea bags in them, and the kettle was near-boiling. "Oh my god, I can't bear this," as she ran back out of the kitchen straight into Jack's chest.

"Whoa, stop," Jack held her arms, holding her in front of him and then pulled her to him. He could feel her hot gasping breath against his chest, through the material of his shirt. Jack realised she was not of the otherworld, or at least she was not aware of it.

Jack guided her back into the kitchen and sat her down at the table. He made the tea and took one mug to Granny Talbot, and then sat down opposite Saffron.

"Now tell me what's going on?"

The tears ran down Saffy's cheeks, "I'm sorry, you must think I'm crazy." she pulled a piece of kitchen roll off and wiped her eyes and nose.

"Have some tea. Everyone feels better after a cup of tea. From what your granny says, you can't see her?"

Saffy looked at him as if he had two heads, "Of course I can't bloody see her. She's dead, Kaputt, shuffled off her mortal coil, like that parrot."

Jack raised a brow, "Do you know your granny at all, Saffron?"

"I never met her. She and my mum had a huge row. She wasn't part of my life at all. I was so surprised when I got a letter from the solicitor to say that she had left me this place."

"So you don't know of her... Lifestyle? "Jack asked tentatively.

"Lifestyle? She was an old lady. What kind of lifestyle could she have? I doubt it was throwing her mobility scooter keys in a bowl at her neighbour's drinks parties."

Jack made a face, "Hmm, it might have been her broomstick keys, or whatever they used to get it to fly."

Saffron stared at him, open-mouthed. "Don't be ridiculous. You're saying that my grandmother was a witch?"

"Have you been in there?" he asked, pointing to the door to the strange storeroom.

"Of course I have," it's just a... an old storeroom for silly remedies. Saffron stood up and poured the rest of her lukewarm tea down the sink. "If that's all you can suggest, then I think you should leave. How ridiculous. Witch indeed."

Jack shrugged his shoulders. He knew that Saffron would have to face this eventually. She was a witch, a powerful one, and getting her to realise that was going to be difficult.

Saffron looked out of the window and saw the man - she realised that he had never given his name, and she was too upset to ask for it. It looked as if he was talking to someone. His hands were expressive, waving around as he spoke. She couldn't see whom he was chatting to, but she imagined - knew it was her grandmother. She curled up on the sofa. There was something wrong, not that living with the ghost of your grandmother was in any way right, but Saffy had just realised that she couldn't feel him. Saffy wondered why she had not felt that man's emotions.

Why? Had her empathic ability gone? Vanished in a puff of smoke, had her granny waved her magic wand?

It would be a shame if they went. However, Saffy would never have to know how worried her married neighbour was over his girlfriend's pregnancy test. Or whether he could win his son's school fees back at the casino before next week when they were due. Or even the young guy who was taking the tube to a bridge where he was determined to throw himself off because he had lost his job and his girlfriend was a cow.

It sounded strange, but she didn't mind those suicidal emotions if she could do something about it. Spending two hours in the pouring rain on a bridge in London, Saffy had managed to talk to the boy, talk him out of jumping. He just needed someone to talk to, someone with a different perspective of what he was going through They remained friends, and he was now married to a lovely girl, and he had a good job. She knew it wasn't that easy for many people.

Saffy was concerned that her ability was gone, and there was only one way to find out. She grabbed her keys and purse and headed out to the car. The supermarket was the place to go, lots of people with lots of emotions. She would know immediately as soon as she stepped outside the car. She drove into the car park and opened the door.

It felt like a wind whooshing around her. Happiness, indifference, fright, and joy, not that there were many of those knocking around. This time it was different. She could see colours not only around the people of whose emotions she could see, but the colours swirled around her too. There were many greyish tones, some blue, pink and a tiny gold cloud around a little girl whose birthday it was. Well, it seems that she hadn't lost her abilities, which begged the question, why couldn't she feel... whatsisname? "What the hell is his name?" She asked the hula lady standing on top of the dashboard.

"Jack, his name is Jack Goldsmith," Said a gentle voice in her head. Saffy looked around, "That wasn't you, was it Hula Lady?

The Hula Lady remained silent as always. Saffron drove back to the cottage, and on the way, she passed a large house that she didn't remember seeing on the way. It was a massive old house, Jacobean she thought, and Saffy glimpsed lovely gardens except the hedges gave way to a tall brick wall, and she could no longer see the building. She wondered if that was Jack's house, then she came to the gates, and a sign on the wall announcing it to be Goldsmith Manor.

"Pretentious pillock." She muttered. Just because he knew he was good looking, she knew, first hand, that he was fit. Saffron smirked. She knew that every single part of him was fit. It didn't mean to say that she was going to fall for him. Yes, he had lovely thick dark hair, and oh my goodness, his eyes. She wasn't one for romantic descriptions, but, oh boy, those cobalt eyes drilled into you, noticing every tiny thing about you. They seemed to see the inside of you as well as what was on the outside. She would have to keep her distance. Though the thought of even having someone around that she couldn't feel their emotions was so appealing. She could live a more normal life, but she had become used to knowing that other people thought she was weird.

When Saffron pulled up outside the cottage, she decided that she would call out to her grandmother. Would she get a reply? Who knows? Perhaps she could go in and pretend she was there, even make her a cup of tea. It sounded stupid to Saffy, but if Jack and maybe other people could see her, she could at least make an effort.

"Ok, here goes," Saffy put the key in the door and took a breath as she swung it open.

"Hey Granny, I'm home. Would you like a cup of tea?" Saffron stood in the hall and listened intently to... Complete silence.

"Bollocks," she muttered and went to put the kettle on. She even looked around for a note, but there was nothing in any of the rooms. Saffy sat down on the sofa with her cup of tea and let herself relax, breathing deep and clearing her mind. Her eyes closed, she concentrated on her breathing. There were noises, crackling, logs falling in the fire, and a stirring noise. Slowly Saffron opened her eyes. The room was different but the same. The fireplace was more significant, and there was a fire in the grate. There was a pan, a cauldron hanging from a hook over the flames.

Slowly Saffron turned her head a tiny bit, and a woman was stirring a pot on the table. Oh. My. God. Saffy mouthed. Despite the long dress, all her long dark curly hair was under a white mob cap, and a long white apron covered her brown dress. It was her. It was like looking in a mirror. The sound of the fire and her stirring faded out. Then the door burst open, and a group of men strode in. Some wore armoured breastplates and helmets, and they surrounded the girl who was screaming as they grabbed her arms and tied them behind her. One man, the one in charge, she thought, stood very close to the girl. He was tormenting her, that was obvious, as he touched her breast and whispered in her ear. Then he grabbed her between her legs. Saffron couldn't bear it, and she picked up her mug of tea and threw it at the man, and the vision vanished.

Saffron stared at the spot where the vision of the past had been. Instead of the big table, there was just the window, and of course, spilt tea on the carpet, which had splashed up the cream wall.

The tears ran down her face. That poor girl, what happened to her? She had looked so contented stirring her concoction, and then those men had been brutal, and the one in charge small and vicious looking. There was no doubt he had 'small man syndrome," She had come across some of these men's emotions, who blamed their violent behaviour because they were small in height and were pushy, arrogant, and sometimes downright nasty. These men thought they were inadequate. Men in magazines were at least six feet tall, and just like girls who were desperate to be model thin and weren't, they didn't believe they were worth knowing because of these inadequacies. Saffy knew she had felt those emotions in other people. It was crazy, but she could hardly walk around with a sign that said 'Be Yourself', not that anyone would take much notice.

Bringing her senses back to the modern-day, Saffy wiped her tears and put the television on. Gordon Ramsey was bouncing around an American restaurant giving the chef a good telling off. That was undoubtedly grounding. She washed the carpet of tea and wiped the wall down. Thankfully there was no mark. She had already had a note telling off from Granny about making a mess.

The evening was quiet, and the television was still on, and some girl in a soap opera told her friend that she had left a note.

"Bloody hell Saffy! What are you like? She ran into the kitchen and grabbed the notepad stuck to the fridge. She hoped this would work if granny could send her a note; maybe she could send one back.

Hi Gran,

Sorry about the mess with the bottle. Seeing your 'pharmacy'? was a bit of a shock.

I am so glad to be here, and I hope that we can communicate with these notes. I think you already know about the vision of the past I had today, and it terrified me. Please help me. I don't want to have any more like that.

Thank you for letting me live here. I wish we had met earlier.

Your loving Granddaughter

Saffron. X

P.S. Why can't I feel Jack's emotions?

Saffy left it on the table weighed down with a brass 1oz weight. She wondered if she would get a result in the morning. It had been a long day, and Saffy made some hot chocolate and went to bed with her romance novel. Saffron never even read the first line of her book, and her hot chocolate was cold the next time she looked at it.

She awoke when her book fell to the floor with a bump. Her breathing was fast, and she had been dreaming of Jack, who seemed to have a huge dog, which was running around him as he held her in his arms. Jack's lips were a hairsbreadth away from hers and about to kiss her when the animal barked, and she woke up.