The Pembrokeshire coast had an aurora of ancient magic about it. Grant and Sandra had been making it their holiday destination since they met at The University of Sussex in the mid 80’s. Little had changed since they started coming, though the costal villages had become more up market and artisan, the coast itself had remained largely untouched by tourism or time. They loved the fact that even in the hight of summer they could find a remote cove to climb down to, where they could spend the day relaxing, writing and playing with their dog Kovu, a long haired German Shepherd.

This day was pretty much like any other late summers day. They had got up to watch the sunrise and drank coffee outside their bay window campervan before they strolled down to the cove adjacent to the campsite.

The accent was steep and tricky and put most casual tourists off, so this morning like many mornings it was just Grant, Sandra, a couple of seals and the hypnotic sound of the sea.

“Grant Grant look!“ shouted Sandra excitedly. About 4 meters away an old looking greenish glass bottle was dancing in and out of the waters edge with the waves.

“Grant! Quickly get it before it gets washed out again“ pleaded Sandra, reluctant to get her brand new walking boots wet retrieving it herself.

“Why,” Grant grunted, “it’s only a bottle, it was probably chucked over board by a fishermen having a few beers in between catches. “

“No, look Grant it’s really old and what if it breaks up and hurts one of the seals.”

“Ok ok” he said, knowing if he didn’t get it he would be made to pay for it for the rest of the day.

Grant pushed himself off the rock on which they were both perched and padded down to the shore.

Just as he got there a small wave caught the bottle and tossed it like an offering directly onto Grants right sandal, “arrhhhhh that blood hurt” he screeched.

Sandra started to laugh “see it wants us to find it”. He reach down and picked up the bottle. It looked like one of those old fashioned medicine bottles, smaller than a Coke bottle and made of a thick green glass with a cork wedged in the top.

Sandra stopped laughing as she noticed a strange look come over Grants face. “What is it babe, are you ok? Did the bottle cut you or...“ she trailed off. “Sand you are not gonna believe this “ shaking his head in disbelief. “ There is a piece of paper in here“. Grant lifted the bottle up to his eyes and started squinting inside. ... “and I think it’s got something written on it .“

“ You are kidding. Shit Grant how fucking awesome. Quickly bring it here let’s see if we can get it out”

Grant turned to walk back to the rock on which Sandra was excitedly perched and handed her the bottle .Sandra immediately began work on the aged cork using both fingers “Hmmmm it’s proper wedged. God knows how long this has been there. “ Hey hun come on, let’s take it back to the van we have that old corkscrew hopefully that will get it out “

15 minutes later the out of breath couple were sat back in the campervan, Grant with corkscrew in one hand and bottle in the other

Grant started working on the cork with the rusty corkscrew, which had probably been in the drawer of the camper since it was new 40 odd years ago. At first the cork seemed reluctant to give up its seat. Then suddenly with a hiss and a pop and a Champaign like fizz the cork flew out across the van causing Sandra to let out a high pitch scream. “ shit what the fuck .....” “Must have been some kind of trapped gasses” muttered Grant looking equally shocked ‘ “God yes ...... what’s that smell.. it’s like something died in there .“

Grant grimaced as the pungent smell of something rotting hit his nostrils. Jesus what the .... “ I think it may have been out at sea some time “ Sandra said her voice muffled by her hand covering her face and nose as she leaned over to take a closer look at the bottle an its contents. Grant peered into what now appeared like a gaping cazom left by the cork and gingerly pulled out the scroll of paper ..... “let me see “ a muffled screech came from under Sandras still firmly wedged hand as she nudged closer to Grant to take a closer look.

Carefully unfurling the scroll the couple peered eagerly to see the message it contained.

It’s a poem .... I think ? “Read it Grant. I cant see”

“Inside this glass upon the sea

The spell that binds has taken me

Until the time

Another comes

For then by grace

They shall take my place”

“Inside this glass upon the sea

The spell that binds has taken me

Until the time

Another comes

For then by grace

They shall take my place” What does that me..... but before he could finished his sentence there was another loud hiss and the note started to evaporate turning into dust spilling onto the van floor

Sandra had not had a chance to take in what had just happened when Grant fell backwards arms stretched wide crucifix style onto the campervan rock n roll bed which they had not yet push up into its bench seat position.

“Grant” screamed Sandra, diving to the bed terrified by the sight of her lover who was staring straight back at her ...except they were no longer his eyes. She sat up not quite understanding what she was seeing. It was Grant. His hair, his face, his clothes .... but the eyes .... they were not Grants beautiful blue eyes .They were black like horrible deep needy pools of darkness.

“Grant ..... Grant are you ok “ she edged back of the bed .... The man on the bed slowly sat up flexing his hands then looking down at them as if he had never seen them before.

“Grant” shouted Sandra ... now shaking The man now perched on the edge of the bed tilted his head, quizzically looking at Sandra through the dark pools that were intermittently scouring the interior of the van.

Who is this grant you speak of .... The voice like the eyes where not Grants

Edging slowly backwards to the van door Sandra caught her foot on something . It was the bottle .... a corked green bottle ... inside was a scroll of paper. Slowly she bent down still keeping one eye on the man sat on the bed and grasped the bottle .There was a smokey mist glowing around the note lighting the bottle as she stared in disbelief she saw something else. Grants face tears pouring from his beautiful blue eyes

A hand grabbed the bottle from hers ... ill take that said the man ....

You have no idea how long I’ve waited for someone to find me and now the bottle which has imprisoned me must go back to the sea

Brushing past Sandra the man walked out of the van taking a long deep breath pulling in the fresh sea air and the views of the coast. “Arhhhh its been a long long time’’ he grinned

20 years later.

No one really knew how long the woman had been staying on the campsite. She was pretty much just part of the scenery.

Her battered ancient Camper had served as her home first long as anyone could remember. She liked to befriend young men who came to holiday in this most beautiful part of wales, especially those especially those who came to the campsite on their own. Not in any creepy way of course, she was perfectly friendly and loved to take them down to the Cove, where she would to tell them about a glass bottle she once found that had drifted upon the shore and had had a strange message inside.

The woman said she had a small fortune stashed away, money she had saved by living in her campervan and that anyone who could find a bottle similar to the one she had found all those years ago would be given all her fortune. Of course none believe she had a penny to her name or her story about the bottle and the strange message, but Sandra had become a bit of a local legend her long salt and pepper hair and her unusual dress sense had given her the nick name of the Celtic Witch even though it was rumours she wasn't even Welsh.

Then one day everything changed. A young man had turned up at the campsite. A beautiful man with amazing blue eyes. She taken a particular liking to this man and took him daily down to the Cove presumably to look for her mythical bottle. On the Friday just before the young man was due to leave they returned from the Cove together holding hands and laughing like long lost lovers , something shed never done with any of the men should befriended before. Then she got into the campervan started the engine and they drove off. Sandra never returned. A week or so later the man's family turned up at the campsite looking for him. It was like he disappeared off the face of the planet. Despite several news conferences, A social media campaign and national media coverage no trace was ever seen of either of them again.

The only evidence the police could find was a note left a the rock by the shore of the cove

It read

“Inside this glass upon the sea

The spell that binds has taken me

Until the time

Another comes

For then by grace

They shall take my place”