Three witches stood on top of the cliff, arms wide to the sky as it slowly turned from blue to grey, to an unworldly black. The wind whipped up and the sea began to churn. Waves boomed and exploded in high arches of white spray. The witches’ chanting got louder as they pointed to where a small fishing boat rolled back and forth dangerously, dwarfed by the mountains of water rising up around it. People could be seen scurrying across the deck like ants, clinging onto the railings. Waves rushed to the witches’ command and surged forward over the boat, trying to claw it down into the blackness. A shrill cackle echoed across the sky as the boat went under for the second time. Then a phone began to ring.

‘Nerys turn that bloody thing off’ Mair shouted over the wind. Nerys was scrabbling around in her cloak pocket, one arm still outstretched to the sea. Olwyn rolled her eyes.

‘I told you to leave it at home’ Mair screeched as the phone continued ringing. Olwyn concentrated her efforts on the fishing boat, trying to drown out the bickering in the background, but sunlight was starting to break through the clouds and glint off the tops of waves. She threw up her hands in defeat and trudged off. The black cloud suddenly dissipated and the sea settled, a distant cheer went up from the fishing boat. Mair scowled at Nerys and turned to follow at Olwyn’s heels. The phone was still ringing. Nerys answered it.

‘Oh er Nerys, I wasn’t sure if you were going to answer…it’s Clive, from Jones & Jones?’

‘Clive, of course’ Nerys purred. She knew the other two would forgive her for disrupting the drowning when they found out what she had in store for Clive. Clive was the dull-eyed Estate Agent who had sold them their current hovel – ‘a charming rustic cottage’. Even witches seemed to be powerless when it came to Estate Agents. Clive had been particularly unresponsive to any of their complaints, so Nerys had come up with a plan to ensure she got his attention. Nerys had transformed herself into a demure beauty and taken her issues to him personally. She’d sat opposite and focused all of her attention on him until he was shifting uncomfortably in his shiny trousers and dabbing at the sweat from his brow. When she invited him up to cliff-side cottage he’d almost leapt out of his chair.

That evening, when Mair and Olwyn were out scouting the cliffs for passing ships, Nerys had taken Clive on a quick tour of the cottage, ending at her bedroom door. She looked up at him invitingly, slowly reached up for his tie and pulled him towards her. Clive squealed. His sausage fingers fumbled with her buttons, Nery muttered a spell and her clothes flew off. Clive threw himself upon her and just as he looked up from hungrily kissing her neck, Nerys revealed her true self. Clive screamed like a banshee and bolted out of the cottage. Shirt flapping and trouser-less he raced down the garden path and hurtled straight over the cliff-edge. Nerys cackled gleefully from the doorway.