The Ward Witch by Sarah Painter EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Sarah Painter
- Language: English
- Genre: Paranormal & Urban Fantasy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2.2 MB
- Price: Free
Esme Gray was up before dawn, as was her custom when she had
paying guests. She liked to have everything ready before even the
earliest riser was likely to poke their head from one of the two guest rooms.
If the island was very busy, something that had happened only a couple of
times in Esme’s memory, she moved into her painting studio and let out her
own bedroom as a third.
Now, she laid out cutlery and condiments on the nicest table in the small
dining room. It nestled in the front window and, today, had a view of a
choppy grey sea. Esme pulled back the blue curtains and hooked them
behind the pewter-toned tiebacks with the sculpted metal shells. The elderly
woman she had inherited the house from had had a real thing for seaside
decoration. Esme had stripped out the sandcastle wallpaper border and
taken several boxes of beach-themed knick-knacks to the charity shop on
the mainland, but she hadn’t managed to eradicate everything.
She turned on the oil-heater in the corner to take the chill off the air in
the room, and made sure that her pictures were all hanging straight and that
none had lost their discreet, but very clear, price tags. In Esme’s experience,
if guests had to wonder how much a painting cost, they assumed they
couldn’t afford it and didn’t even ask.
It was the end of the season and she wasn’t likely to sell much more to
visitors. She had an online store, which always had a welcome bump in the
run-up to Christmas, but she wasn’t a skilled digital marketer. She found it
easier to chat to the people who stayed in the village and, somehow, they
always seemed to leave with a brown-paper wrapped rectangle under one
arm. One of the seascapes she couldn’t seem to stop painting.
At seven-thirty, the couple staying in the sandpiper room emerged in
fleeces and walking trousers. Esme had pegged them as early risers,
although it hadn’t taken much detective work. Most people who stayed at
her establishment were the adventurous, seize-the-day types. Hikers and
birdwatchers, kayak-enthusiasts, and obsessive beachcombers. The village
was a well-kept secret and would have topped the dictionary definition for
‘off the beaten track’. Plus, its location, jutting out into the North Sea just
on the border between Scotland and northern England, and nestled on a
tidal island that was routinely cut off from the mainland, didn’t exactly lend
itself to luxury mini-breaks.
Mr and Mrs Allingham, a pleasant couple from York, settled at their
table and Esme took their breakfast order. Outside, the day had arrived. The
sun pierced the clouds and added a little glitter to the waves. A figure was
walking along the beach, too far away for Esme to identify. Which was
unusual. It wasn’t a large community and she was pretty sure she could pick
out the residents blindfolded in the dark.
In the kitchen, she dished out porridge, filled a toast rack, and laid a tray
with small dishes of butter and honey.
The husband was vigorously stirring sugar into his tea. ‘Are there boat
trips from the village?’
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