Peter Harris and I, Anna Taylor, are leaving a bustling restaurant in central London where we have just celebrated his birthday. The evening goes smoothlylots of guests, family, colleagues, many of whom I meet for the first time, but Peter insists on inviting them, so there must be a reason.
Im not one to question Peters choices; I avoid arguments and prefer to go along with him rather than prove Im right.
Anna, do you have the keys? Can you get them out? he asks.
I rummage through my handbag, looking for the keys. Suddenly a sharp sting makes me drop the bag onto the floor.
What happened? Peter asks.
I cut myself on something.
You could get lost in that bag of yours, so its no wonder.
I dont argue. I pick up the bag, gently pull out the keys, and we head inside. The pain in my leg fades as fatigue takes over; all I can think about is a shower and a bed. In the morning I wake with a throbbing hand, the finger swollen and red. Remembering yesterdays incident, I open the bag out of curiosity. At the bottom I find a large, rusted needle.
What on earth? I mutter, unable to understand how it got there. I toss the needle into the bin, fetch a firstaid kit, and disinfect the wound. After dressing the finger I head to work, but by midday my temperature climbs.
I call Peter:
Love, Im not sure what to do. I think I caught something nasty yesterday. I have a fever, a pounding head, my whole body aches. ImagineI found a big, rusted needle in my bag and thats what pricked me.
Maybe you should see a doctor; it could be tetanus or an infection.
Dont overreact. Ive covered the wound; Ill be fine.
Each hour makes me feel worse. I barely make it through the day, then order a cab home, knowing the bus would be too exhausting. I collapse onto the sofa and drift off.
In my dream my late grandmother Ethel appears. I have no idea why I know its her, but I feel certain. Shes frail and hunched, the sort of figure that could scare anyone, yet she seems intent on helping me.
She leads me through a field, pointing out herbs to gather, telling me to brew a tea and drink it to cleanse my body. She warns that someone wants to harm me, and to fight that person I must survive. Time is short.
I wake drenched in sweat. It feels as if Ive slept for hours, but a glance at the clock shows only a few minutes have passed. The front door bangs openPeter is back. I slip off the sofa and shuffle to the hallway. He stops dead when he sees me:
Whats happened? Look at yourself in the mirror.
I step to the mirror. Yesterday I saw a bright, smiling face; now my hair hangs in clumps, dark circles sit under my eyes, my skin is ashen, and my stare is empty.
What is this?
I recall the dream and tell him, I saw my grandmother in a dream; she told me what to do.
Anna, get dressed. Were going to the hospital.
No, she said doctors wont help.
A huge argument erupts. Peter calls me crazy, saying my feverfilled visions are nonsense. For the first time we truly quarrel. He tries to force a trip to the A&E, grabs my arm, and pulls me toward the door.
If you wont come willingly, Ill make you.
I break free, lose my balance, and smash my head against a cupboard corner. Enraged, Peter grabs his bag, slams the doors, and storms out. I manage only to email my boss that Im ill and need a few days off.
Peter returns after midnight, apologising, but I say, Take me to the village where my grandmother lived tomorrow.
The next morning I look more like a walking corpse than a healthy woman. Peter keeps insisting, Anna, dont be foolish. Lets go to the hospital. I dont want to lose you.
We drive to the tiny village that my family sold after my grandmothers death. I sleep through most of the journey, unsure where the field should be, but as we near the village I wake and tell Peter, Here.
I hop out of the car, collapse onto the grass, certain this is the spot Ethel guided me to in my dream. I gather the herbs she mentioned and we head back. Peter brews a decoction exactly as I instructed. I sip it in small gulps, feeling a gradual lift.
I make it to the bathroom, stand up, and notice my urine is black. Instead of panic, the sight reminds me of Ethels words:
Darkness will pass
That night Ethel returns in my sleep, smiling, then speaks:
The rusted needle placed a curse on you. My tea will restore you only briefly. You must find the one who did this and return his evil. I cant see who it was, but its linked to your husband. If you hadnt thrown the needle away, I could have told you more.
She gives me a new plan: buy a pack of needles, say over the largest, Spirits of the night, hear me! Help me uncover the truth. Help me find my enemy Slip that needle into Peters bag. The person who cast the spell will be pricked by your needle, revealing their name so you can turn their malice back on them.
Ethel fades like mist.
I awaken still feeling weak but confident I will recover; I trust my grandmothers aid. Peter decides to stay home to look after me. Hes surprised when I say I want to go to the shop alone:
Anna, dont joke. You can barely stand. Ill come with you.
Peter, make some soupI have a massive appetite after this illness.
I follow Ethels instructions. That evening the enchanted needle sits in Peters bag. Before bedtime he asks, Are you sure you can manage on your own? Should I stay with you?
Ill be fine.
I feel better, though I know some darkness still lingers. By the third day the tea works like an antidote, weakening the evil inside me. I wait impatiently for Peter to finish work, greet him at the door, and ask, How was your day?
It was fine, why?
I think the problem is solved, but Peter adds, Imagine this: today my colleague Mabel from the adjacent department tried to help me by reaching for the keys to my office because my hands were full. She stuck herself on a needle in my bag. How did a needle get in my bag? She stared at me menacingly, as if she could kill me with a glance.
What about Mabel?
Anna, youre the only one who matters to me. I love only you.
Was she at your birthday dinner?
Yes, shes a good friend, nothing more.
Understanding dawns; I see how the old needle ended up in my bag. Peter heads to the kitchen where dinner awaits. Later that night Ethel shows me how to return the curse to Mabel. She explains that Mabel wanted to remove me as a rival to take my place beside Peter. If she failed, she would resort to magic again. She would stop at nothing.
I do everything Ethel advised. Soon Peter tells me Mabel has taken sick leave, claiming shes gravely ill and doctors cant help.
I ask Peter to drive me for a weekend to the village cemetery where I havent been since my grandmothers funeral. I buy a bouquet, gloves, and reluctantly locate my grandmother Ethels grave among the overgrown grass. I see a photo on the headstoneEthel, the woman who visited me in dreams, the one who saved me from death. I tidy the grave, place the flowers in a jar of water, sit on the bench and speak:
Grandmother, Im sorry I didnt visit sooner. I thought a yearly visit was enough. I was wrong. Ill come more often. Without you, I might not be here now.
I feel a warm hand on my shoulders, turn, but only a gentle breeze remains.
