The Return from the Birthday Dinner: Memories of a Lovely Evening
Emily returned home with her husband from the restaurant where theyd celebrated his birthday. It had been a wonderful eveningfull of laughter, relatives, and colleagues from work. She hadnt met most of them before, but if James had invited them, she supposed it mustve been the right thing to do.
Emily wasnt one to argue with her husbands decisions. She hated drama and pointless squabbles. It was easier to just go along with James than to insist on being right.
“Em, where are your keys? Can you find them?”
Emily rummaged through her handbag, fingers brushing against something sharp. A sudden sting made her yelp, and the bag tumbled to the floor.
“Whats all the shouting about?”
“I pricked myself on something!”
“Your bags a disasterno surprise there,” James sighed.
She didnt argue, just picked it up, carefully retrieved the keys, and let them into the flat. By then, shed forgotten about the prick. Her feet ached from the heels, and all she wanted was a shower and bed.
The next morning, she woke to a throbbing pain in her fingerswollen, red, and tender. Then she remembered last nights incident, grabbed her handbag, and tipped its contents onto the bed. Among lipsticks and receipts, at the very bottom, lay a large, rusted needle.
“What on earth?”
She hadnt the faintest idea how it got there. Shaking her head, she tossed the strange object into the bin, cleaned the wound, and headed to work. But by lunchtime, her skin burned with fever.
She called James.
“Love, I dont feel right. Feverish, headacheeverything hurts. And that needle I found? Its definitely what pricked me.”
“Maybe you should see a doctor. You dont want it turning into sepsis.”
“Dont fuss, James. Ive cleaned it. Itll be fine.”
But fine was the last thing she felt. Hour by hour, she grew worse. By the end of the workday, she could barely stand. She called a cab, collapsed onto the sofa at home, and sank into a feverish sleep.
In her dream, she saw her grandmotherAgneswhod passed when Emily was just a child. She didnt know how she recognised her, but she did. The old womans appearance mightve frightened others, but Emily felt only comfort.
Agnes led her through a field, pointing out herbs. “Make a tea from these,” she said. “Itll cleanse the darkness eating at you. Someone wishes you harm. But to fight them, you must stay alive. Times running out.”
Emily woke drenched in sweat. Shed only been asleep minutes. The flat door clickedJames was home. When he saw her, his face fell.
“Look at yourself!”
She dragged herself to the mirror. The woman staring back was unrecognisablepale, hollow-eyed, hair limp with sweat.
James insisted on hospital. Emily refused.
“Agnes told me what to do. Doctors wont help.”
This sparked their first real row. James called her delusional; she stood her ground. He even tried dragging her out, but she wrenched free, stumbled, and fell against the corner of the table. Furious, he stormed out.
He returned near midnight, apologetic.
“Take me to the village tomorrow,” she whispered. “Where Gran lived.”
In the morning, she looked more corpse than woman. James tried again”Em, lets just go to hospital”but they drove to the village instead. Emily slept the whole way, only stirring as they arrived.
“There,” she croaked, pointing.
She staggered from the car, knees buckling in the grass. But she knew this fieldthe one from her dream. She gathered the herbs Agnes had shown her, and they returned home.
James brewed the tea. With each sip, Emily felt lighteruntil she saw her own urine, black as ink. But instead of fear, she smiled.
“Its working.”
That night, Agnes appeared again in her dreams.
“That needle carried a curse. My tea buys you time, but you must find who did this. Its tied to James somehow. If only you hadnt thrown the needle awayId know more.”
She gave instructions: buy new needles, whisper an incantation over the largest one, and place it in James bag. Whoever cursed her would be the one to prick themselves.
Emily obeyed. By evening, the enchanted needle waited in James briefcase.
“You sure youre alright alone?” he asked before bed.
“Ill manage.”
She was improving, but the darkness inside still writhed. The tea, though, was workinglike an antidote, slowly poisoning the poisoner.
Then James came home.
“Rough day?” she asked.
“Fine. Why?”
He turned away, then added, “Oh, youll love thisOlivia from accounting tried helping me with my keys today. Reached into my bag and got stabbed by a needle. Where the hell did that come from? She looked ready to murder me.”
“Olivia was she at your birthday dinner?”
“Yeah, good colleague. Nothing more.”
The puzzle clicked. Now Emily knew how the rusted needle had ended up in her bag.
That night, Agnes returned. Olivia had used magic to remove a rival. If she failed, shed try again.
Emily followed Agnes instructions. Soon, James mentioned Olivia had been hospitaliseddoctors baffled by her sudden decline.
That weekend, Emily visited Agnes grave for the first time since the funeral. She cleared weeds, arranged flowers, and whispered,
“Gran, Im sorry I never came. Mum and Dad visited yearlyI thought that was enough. But if not for you, Id be gone.”
A warmth settled on her shoulderslike hands resting there. She turned. No one. Just a breeze.
