Hey there! I'm sorry this has taken so long to update. That's just kind of how I work I'm afraid. But in my deffence my computer was broken :P I hope you all enjoy. Thank you so much for the reviews! They always make me smile :)

Sos xx

Chapter 3

Imogen pushed herself angrily against the wall. How could someone just disappear like that? She was surprised to suddenly find herself forcing back tears as all her frustrations finally boiled over. She clenched her fists tightly as scenes of her team being commandeered filled her vision. A laugh almost escaped at the memory as Imogen realised the real reason for her tears. Damn Constance Hardbroom and her ability to make Imogen feel utterly useless! She sniffed, wiping the tears from her face with what was probably now a mucky hand, as she decided what to do next. It made her feel strangely better to have a reason for her feelings and it suddenly occurred to Imogen how dangerous her personal mission could have been. She almost kicked herself for her own stupidity as she realised she had no idea what she would have done had her quarry turned and attacked her. The night suddenly felt a lot colder and Imogen pulled her running jumper tighter around herself. Certainly no good would come of standing beside a cold wall all night. She shivered and stepped around the side of the wall again to take another look at the village. If her memory was correct there should be a good pub just across the road from where she stood. Her eyes quickly found it and the warm light streaming out from inside made her hesitate once more. The place did have an extremely friendly atmosphere and she could certainly use a drink to settle her nerves after such a stressful day. Imogen set off in the direction of The Keys. Just one drink, and then she would go back.

Constance looked once more at the letter in her hand. It was worn at the edges from being opened and refolded far too much the past few weeks, and was starting to turn yellow from years hidden in a drawer. The writing, however, was as clear and unchanged as the day it had been written. Constance read those words once again as she hesitated outside the door. In truth there was not much to read, he certainly hadn't wasted words. The letter simply told her where and when 'In case you change your mind.' She ran her hands across the paper once more, the sweat from her palms adding to the wear around the edges. There was no going back now. Of course, it had occurred to her that any number of circumstances could have changed in the last ten years. It was more than likely she would walk into an empty room. Or worse, a room full of the wrong people waiting for her. The last fear, she knew, was just paranoia. How could anyone have known she would come now? After such a long absence there would be more than one surprised face tonight. Constance took a deep breath to still her nerves and extended a shaking hand towards the door handle.

The door opened into a room that was far too small for the amount of people within. There was clearly a shortage of chairs as people were perched on tables as well as standing in every available space. Had it ever been this full before? Certainly not that Constance could remember. The sight filled her with a sense of hope so sudden and buoyant that there seemed almost no space left inside her for nerves. One man with a mane of black hair stood at the far wall opposite the door. He had a stack of newspapers at his feet and one in his hand which he held open in front of the group. All the attention that had been on him not a moment ago had now been transferred to Constance as everyone in the room turned to see who had entered. There were looks of confusion and excitement spread evenly across the group, punctuated here and there by some worried faces. Not everyone here knew who she was. Constance couldn't stop herself from smiling as she saw the grin from the man with the newspaper. It seemed to cover his entire face as her fought his way across the room to greet her. Constance fought to suppress a laugh as he struggled between people and furniture until at last he reached the doorway where she still stood.

"Bloody hell, you've changed!" He gripped her tightly around the shoulders as they hugged. Samuel Kenwhit was not accustomed to doing things by half. Constance tensed at the sudden uncomfortably close contact but forced herself to endure it. It had been far too long since they had last seen each other and she really had missed him. Samuel took a step back leaving his hands on her shoulders. She hadn't thought it possible for his boyish grin to get any wider but it certainly did as he surveyed her appearance. Constance in turn took the time to look over her old friend once more. By the looks of things she wasn't the only one who had changed. Samuel's face was crisscrossed with premature wrinkles and despite the grin he looked haggard and exhausted. On closer inspection Constance could now make out wings of grey in his once jet black hair and he looked like he good use a good meal. However none of this diminished his obvious glee as he turned, hand now attached to her wrist, and dragged her through the clutter of people and chairs back to his space and stack of newspapers by the wall. The room was now alive with conversation, some not even bothering to whisper. Constance could feel countless pairs of eyes on her back as she followed Samuel through the room, trying in vain to wrench her arm from his grasp. At the table nearest the far wall, people began shifting slightly this way and that to make space for Constance as she and Samuel got closer. As they finally stumbled over the last chair leg, Constance turned towards the table and perched awkwardly on the edge between two other women. The woman on her right was new to Constance. Her auburn hair reached below her shoulders and provided a curtain through which she shot several nervous glances at the witch. Unfortunately it proved an extremely effective two-way mirror as Constance could make out nothing of the other woman, besides the frequent glances in her direction. She decided to ignore her for now and turned instead to the woman on her left, giving her a curt nod of recognition while receiving one herself. Beside the wall, Samuel was attempting to bring the meeting back to order with little success. The last ten years had been a breeding ground for questions and Constance could see them bubbling to the surface with her arrival, Samuel's talk already long forgotten. She would have a lot of explaining to do tonight.

Griselda sat beside Fenella on the bed as the last of the four girls, Roberta Duskbane, closed the door quietly behind her and began the painstakingly careful journey back to her own room. The two girls left in the room shared a grin. Everything had gone well.

"I told you we could've asked Felicity Goodwillow!" Griselda had been surprised when Elspeth brought her along. She had been one those Griselda had suggested but had received a veto from Fenella just in case.

Fenella rolled her blue eyes. "Yes, yes. Well, we know that now, don't we? Enough of your bragging. I just think it's better to err on the safe side. I mean, she is really girly."

"Yeah but have you seen the way she and Elspeth are together?" Griselda giggled. "A proper femme and butch couple!" Both girls giggled at that.

"Bless them!" Fenella's frown had disappeared as she remembered how the girls acted towards each other. "I don't think they've even figured it out yet. I hope they do soon. They're so cute together."

It was Griselda's turn to roll her eyes now. "Such a hopeless romantic, you are."

The blue eyed girl smiled at her girlfriend. "That's not always a bad thing." She took Griselda's hand in hers and caressed it gently with her thumb. "What was it that Elspeth wanted to speak to you about?"

"We're going to see Miss Cackle tomorrow to see if we can get more training time for netball without bloody HB sticking her nose in. Elspeth's fuming over it all and I don't blame her. Sometimes I think the game's her life. It's what she wants to do when we leave." As she said this, Fenella ran her free hand through Griselda's hair, a motion that never failed to soothe and relax her.

She smiled again. "Do I get a kiss before bed?"

"Of course." Griselda moved towards her girlfriend, their lips touching, sending a wave of contentment over both girls. She grinned once more, the smile seeming to cover her entire face, as she stood up to leave for her own bedroom.

"See you at breakfast!"

Imogen sat at the bar, her pint almost finished. The weather had made a turn for the worse outside and she was sipping the last of her beer slowly in the hope that she could sit out the worst of it. It didn't look likely. She surveyed the room once more. Everything in here was old and worn. Most of the chairs needed restuffed if not replaced and the wallpaper was beginning to peel at the ceiling. In the corner to her right a group of old men sat smoking pipes and playing the same card game they'd been playing since Imogen had got there. She got the impression that when they finally stood to leave the chairs would be shaped exactly to each man. They were there whenever she visited the pub. Her finger traced the surface of the bar where a heart containing the initials R.E. and . had been carved into the wood. It was all part of what Imogen loved about The Keys. Yes it was certainly old and run down but there was a charm to it all that she couldn't say no to. It felt friendly.

She swallowed the last of her pint and grimaced as the wind howled outside. As she stood to leave a movement at the other end of the pub caught her eye. Imogen's eyes were wide with amazement as she saw the unmistakable figure of Constance Hardbroom emerge from a door in the far corner of the pub. The potions mistress strode through the room without appearing to notice Imogen and pulled up the hood of her long black cloak as she stepped out into the night. Imogen hastily grabbed her running jumper and hurried to follow.