The Witches of Lychford

[sawyl]

Another shortish book in the shape of Paul Cornell's exquisite Witches of Lychford, which explores the events surrounding a large supermarket's attempts to set up shop in a small Cotswold market town. As befits a book about witches, the story revolves around three strong women: the local wise woman, the parish priest, and the new-ager.

Judith Mawson, notorious local battleaxe, is first to realise that the new Savo supermarket isn't all that it seems. Catching sight of a poster one evening on her way home, she mutters her objection to the store only to find herself attacked by a spirit. But when she attends a meeting between the townspeople and Savo's representatives, Judith is so shocked by what she hears that she stands up and denounces the proposal, causing far more harm to the antis and to her own reputation than the slick corporate type up on stage.

Meanwhile Lizzie Blackmore, the new vicar recently returned to the place where she grew up, has kept herself out of the great planning battle that has split the council and the community in two; instead she has spent her time getting to know her parishioners and struggling with aftermath of a tragedy that has greatly shaken her faith. Gradually, cautiously, Lizzie resumes her friendship with Autumn Blunstone, once such a fierce sceptic that Lizzie's decision to become a vicar caused a rift between them but now the proprietrix of the town's magic shop. When Autumn also receives a supernatural warning about the harm the supermarket will bring with it, she naturally turns to Lizzie for support and the pair soon find their paths interesting with the formidable Judith.

It almost goes without saying that the setting feels spot on — Cornell lives in the Cotswolds, his wife is a vicar, and the book is dedicated to Fairford — while the characters are beautifully drawn. For all that the three principals are thrown together and huge things are at stake, there are some delightful ensemble moments between them and some spiky humour from Judith — my favourite being moment when Lizzie and Autumn are baptised into the supernatural with water from a fairy well:

"For the next twelve months or so you'll see like I do. Then, if you want to, you can come back for another dose. Assuming any of us are still here."
"It's real, Lizzie," whispered Autumn.
Judith laughed at their expressions. "Just like my first time," she said. "Only without the lesbianism. Probably no time for that now."
"No," agreed Autumn, alarmed.
"Right," nodded Lizzie quickly, then seemed to feel compelled to add, "not that there's anything wrong with that."
"You don't have to, I found out, afterwards," said Judith. "But they didn't tell mee at the time. It was the sixties."
Lizzie looked like she'd suddenly realised something that troubled and excited her at the same time. "If I can see this..." She came to a decision. "I'm sorry," she said, and she turned and ran back down the path.

Not only is the passage funny but it establishes much about who the characters are, how they behave, and what matters to them: Judith, no nonsense and determined, sharing her knowledge; Autumn, needing something to help her push through her scepticism into belief; Lizzie, with her classic liberal C of E response, who turns and runs when she realises that the water might allow her to see the thing that has most caused her to doubt her faith.

In case it's not obvious, I absolutely adored The Witches of Lychford. The tone was just right, the setting perfect, the characters delightful; it all was very much my cup of tea. And while your mileage may vary, it's only a hundred and forty pages, so what have you got to lose?