Fred O’Reilly placed the ornate golden cloth lovingly on the table and lit the candles. The colour of the fabric changed with the seasons. Autumn was celebrated with a wealth of oranges, gold and rich browns. He welcomed the final meeting before the next quarter day: Mabon, when the sun would begin its journey south and away from the northern hemisphere, and thanks would be given for the fruits of summer. He laid out the traditional offerings for the season of nuts, apples, barley and pumpkins, amongst the ritual consecrating tools, which would form the basis of the meeting once he’d marked out the circle. The paten was a golden plate that Fred had acquired from a dear friend and High Priest of the Surrey coven that he’d left when he’d started his own, before they moved to Shap, and then here. On it was inscribed a pentagram within a circle, and at each point the symbol for one of the five elements was engraved: spirit, air, earth, fire and water. It was a thing of beauty and Fred’s most treasured of all the tools. He placed it with the spirit symbol at the head because spirit brought together all the other elements.

He looked towards the door and wondered where Mary had got to: she was often late, and Fred didn’t mind this so much. What he did mind was her lackadaisical attitude when she finally appeared. He had on numerous occasions considered the wisdom of his choice of High Priestess, but she possessed other strengths that were vital for their group. Mary was the air to his fire, and they worked well together. He reached for the athame, or ritual dagger. It had been a gift from his predecessor and it had its origins in northern Germany. It was simply a tool of magic and not to be confused with weaponry, though it gave the appearance of being more than capable of inflicting serious wounding. As he continued to unwrap the items used in ceremony – an ebony wand, a curved boline knife (like a scythe) and a brass chalice – this was exactly what was on Fred’s mind. A local journalist (a girl barely out of nappies, no doubt desperate for attention) had written a newspaper article. It was heinous. It showed no understanding of Pagan practice, used spurious links to a smattering of inflammatory articles about modern witchcraft, and promptly proceeded to damn all those practices outside of organised religion. Fred’s blood boiled.

‘Evening, Fred.’ Finally, Mary appeared and Fred relaxed a little.