I listened as Big Ben struck eleven, twelve and closed my eyes, but tonight it kept going. Thirteen. Had I heard it right? I peer into the darkness, and tap my phone. All I see is a blank screen before it changes.
Not one o’clock, not two, but something in between.
If I had been drinking then all this would be plausible, but I’ve been dry all October. Covers are pushed back and I open my window as wide as it will go. From here I can see the face of the clock.
That will put my mind at rest.
Blinking I stare outside my window, but instead of the London horizon, there is a tree. I move the gnarled branches away from the glass. Multi coloured leaves dance in the wind before they drop to the earth.
Mum has warned me about this night – the only night where the clocks are moved forward on all hallows eve. It is a right of passage for a witch – to see our past, so that we could have a future.