The Price of Desire by N. K. Fox Page B

joking.
    Georgie decided that instead of going home she would go over to Bunnie’s. Things always seemed clearer when she was with her friend. There she could call her parents and see if there was any news. Lily might even be home by now, and Georgie could be worrying for nothing. But she could also confide in Bunnie, she could tell her everything that had happened in the church, she knew her friend would not judge her, and she knew Lily as well as Georgie did. Bunnie was sure to have an opinion on the vicar’s revelation.
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    Bunnie lived with her mother on the outskirts of the neighbouring town. They were lifelong friends of Georgie’s family. Both dynasties had lived in the area for generations. Bunnie’s family were an extremely wealthy aristocracy that owned most of the land that the town was built on.
    Despite Bunnie finishing her education (not that Georgie thought that obtaining her degree in Wiccan practices was a real qualification), Bunnie was content to live with her mother, Anneka, dedicating her free time to tarot readings, astronomy, crystallography, alternative therapies and painting.
    Bunnie didn’t need to worry about an income. Her father died when she was just six, and as an only child not only did she have a very generous allowance that she couldn’t possibly spend, she would also inherit the entire fortune in her mother’s will. Georgie didn’t even know how much her friend would be worth, but taking the land, the estate, investments and a handful of business enterprises you were talking many millions. But to know Bunnie you would know how unaffected she was by it all. That was one of the things that brought them together as children. Georgie was always treated differently by others of her own age, probably because of her father and the fact that most of the people in the village relied on her family for work in some form or another. But Bunnie seemed oblivious to the pomp and circumstance of their social circle, they hit it off straight away and had been close friends ever since.
    She arrived at Bunnie’s half an hour later. It was a grand three storey building, surrounded by gardens and acres of farmland. It was nowhere near as impressive as Marrington Manor, but it was beautiful and picturesque and more than enough for the two of them.
    Bunnie’s father died when they were kids, and Georgie remembered when it happened. She hadn’t been allowed to go to the funeral, she was too young, but she had gone to the gathering afterwards. She remembered Bunnie dressed in her favourite pink dress, the only colour in a sea of black, clinging furiously to her mother. Georgie didn’t speak to Bunnie that day; she didn’t know what to say. She was only a child herself and had no idea of the enormity of the event. Bunnie had been more reserved in the months following her father’s death, but the girls’ close friendship seemed to bring her back out of herself, and in time she was the same lively girl that Georgie had always known. She had vowed that she would never let her friend down again and she would always be there for her.
    Georgie’s knock on the door was answered by a surprised Anneka. She beamed at the sight of her and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug.
    â€˜Hello stranger, long time no see!’ she exclaimed, releasing her and stepping back so Georgie could enter.
    Bunnie was the spitting image of her mother. They were often mistaken for sisters as her mother looked nothing like her forty-five years. They were so alike that Georgie often felt irrationally flustered when they were in close proximity. Anneka’s eyes were still a young, sparkling blue, her blonde hair tied in a French plait. In jeans and a tight grey sweater she could easily have passed for a student at Georgie’s university.
    â€˜Hello, Anneka, how are you?’
    â€˜Very well, thanks Georgie, and happy birthday! Sorry I couldn’t make your party last