Wildwood (YA Paranormal Mystery) by Helen Scott Taylor Page A

sitting room, dried flowers and herbs hung from a beam over the inglenook fireplace, while horse brasses decorated the sooty granite pillars on either side. Seashells and china ornaments were arranged along the black wooden beams, balanced in tiny nooks in the stone wall, lined up along the windowsills and shelves. In a shadowy corner of the room, a ceiling-high bookcase was stacked with old books that could be full of spells.
    Todd stopped in the kitchen doorway, waiting for Marigold. Mrs. Turpin stood at a huge black range set into a tiled alcove, stirring a large pot that looked suspiciously like a cauldron.
    She glanced up and saw him hesitating. A wary smile passed over her face. "Come in, lad. Don't stand on ceremony." She pointed at the table, neatly laid with a red-and-white checked tablecloth like something out of a fairy tale. "Sit yourself down."
    "Thank you, Mrs. Turpin." Todd walked into the kitchen and had to admit the smell from the cauldron was delicious.
    "All right, Todd?" Marigold came up behind him and placed her hand on his back.
    "Yeah, cool."
    Marigold laughed. "He talks like a city boy, Mum."
    "I'm not a city boy. I only feel truly alive when I'm in the countryside. I'm going to get a job as a wildlife warden or a gardener when I leave school."
    "Like your father, then," Mrs. Turpin, said. She watched him curiously as he took the seat she indicated. While Marigold cut up a crusty loaf, and her mother dished out stew into large bowls, Todd glanced around.
    The countryside seemed to creep inside. Pinecones were hanging beside the door, dried rosebuds filled a bowl on the table, and bright pots of flowers sat on the windowsills. Compared to his mother's modern white kitchen, this was another world, a world that would have suited his dad far better than their modern house in the city. It made him wonder what had happened to make his dad leave Porthallow.
    As they ate, Todd summoned the courage to ask Mrs. Turpin how Mrs. Bishop was, but she didn't tell him much. He had the sense she was guarded around him, wary.
    After dinner, he helped clear the table and dried the dishes while Marigold washed. He was relieved when Mrs. Turpin let them go. He thanked her for dinner, then Marigold grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the back door.
    "Let's watch the stars come out. Can you see the stars where you live?"
    "Not really. There's too much light pollution." Todd checked over his shoulder for Mrs. Turpin's reaction as Marigold pulled him out the door. She watched them go, a conflicted look on her face. This situation was too weird. Grandpa wanted him to make friends with Marigold and her mother didn't seem to like him much, yet she had invited him to dinner. Now she was letting him go out in the dark alone with her daughter.
    He followed Marigold through the garden onto the cliff path. "We'll go to the lookout," she said. "That's the place our cottage is named after."
    She held Todd's hand while they walked past the place Andrew had gone over the cliff and on for a few hundred feet.
    The lookout was a tumbledown wooden building hunched on a small promontory like the brown skeleton of a creature that had died and was slowly sinking back into the ground. They sat on the wiry grass in front of the building and stared at the purple and pink streaks marking the horizon as the sky faded to velvety blue.
    Marigold flopped on her back, her hair splayed around her head, a splash of gold on the grass. "Look." She pointed up at the sky. "The stars are coming out."
    After a few minutes sitting staring at the darkening horizon, Todd lay on the grass beside her. He flattened his hand on his chest aware of his heart racing beneath his palm. He willed it to slow down. Lying next to a girl on a summer night, watching the stars. No sweat... yeah right .

Chapter Ten
    The tiny points of starlight glowed brighter as the pale band along the horizon faded into darkness. A sickle moon hung in the sky above them like a shiny