My mind went back to PC Planet. I hoped they could fix my old laptop. All my memories of Pete were on there; the great summer we had last year, the music we both listened to.

  Meeting Ollie had been a highlight and an eye-opener. I wondered if he took the curse seriously at all, or whether he just made the whole thing up.

  ‘Did you have a good day? Got everything you needed?’ Burt said as we drove along. I nodded and looked over at Tallulah. Then I realized that she hadn’t bought a single thing. ‘Yes, thank you,’ I said, settling back into the seat. I felt a bit bad hogging the whole entire day. She seemed untroubled so I let it go, assuming she already had her stuff for the new school year as they’d started a month ago.

  It was dark when we got home. Tallulah said, ‘Bye,’ with her head down, still looking at her phone and Gerty had her coat on to leave as I came in. I supposed it made sense to take Tallulah home with her.

  ‘Your dinner is in the Aga. Don’t burn yourself. Your aunt has gone to bed. I don’t work Sundays, but don’t worry; the nurse comes in first thing in the morning and at teatime for your aunt. I’ve left instructions.’

  It was a bit bewildering taking it all in but I nodded, hoping she’d written it all down. She turned back just as she was about to go out of the door. ‘Oh, and Burt will take you to school on Monday. Be ready at eight.’

  ‘OK, thanks,’ I said and she left.

  The kitchen was warm, dimly lit and filled with the delicious smells of cooked meat and baking. I guessed the big iron thing in the corner was the Aga. The stove baffled me until I managed to undo one of the doors with a clang. A dish with a cover on it was inside, so I grabbed the oven gloves from the hook, took it out and put it on the table. I nearly dropped the top dish taking it off and whistled at the close call. It was some kind of pie with vegetables and gravy. It made me instantly hungry. I’d only had a coke and a muffin at the mall.

  I searched the many drawers for cutlery and sat down with a scrape of the chair. I think the pie was beef, but I couldn’t be sure. It was nice though and I cleared my plate. The piece of paper in the middle of the table was Gerty’s list of instructions. I skimmed it and found it was mainly to do with food for tomorrow. There was a telephone number at the bottom, which I tapped straight into my phone to transfer later.

  I put the note down with a sigh. I was going to be alone a lot. Not too dissimilar to home. My eyes rested on my many bags of shopping. At least I still had data and could spend the evening setting up my phone and MacBook. That cheered me up a bit.

  There was still no message from Mom and Dad. Maybe the time difference had confused them. Deep in my heart, I knew that wasn’t it. Talking to me was just too painful, which was why I’d been sent here in the first place. I was a living reminder of their dead son that should have been me.

  After putting my dirty dishes into the empty dishwasher, I struggled up the stairs with my many bags. I paused at Lila’s portrait. It was weird as I always felt the need to acknowledge her. I wondered if she knew of the Blackwood curse. Maybe she had something to do with it and that’s why the secret smile. I’d probably never know.

  I dumped the whole lot on my bed. Gerty had left the lamp on and the fire lit. I was grateful. It made the lonely room kind of cosy. Plus, I still hadn’t got used to the layout of the room to negotiate it in the dark.

  I went over to the window and peeped out from the closed curtains. The garden was in blackness. I wondered about the rose for the hundredth time that day. Who cared enough about the place, or someone, to put something so beautiful there for no one to see? I was sure it wasn’t for me.

  Then my mind went back to the conversation with Ollie and the Blackwood curse. It was intriguing. But first I needed to make sure it was a thing and not made up. Although he did say that my family was old and so was his. I made up my mind to spend my Sunday exploring and finding out more about it.

  For once I was grateful for the solitude. After all, the round house was out there in the darkness, waiting for me to go back.

  Chapter 4

  I woke up late on Sunday. I’d stayed up until 1 a.m. setting up my MacBook and iPhone with all my apps and numbers. I washed and dressed and finally came downstairs at around noon.

  The house was quiet. The only sound was the grandfather clock ticking loudly, amplified by the high ceilings in the hall. I made my way around the staircase to the kitchen, parked my crutches and picked up Gerty’s note listing what there was to eat.

  Bacon and eggs in the fridge for breakfast.

  OK, that wasn’t too hard. I switched on an old transistor radio on the windowsill, found a frying pan on a wall rack and soon had weird, fat slabs of bacon on the go. Delicious smells filled the air along with some old rock ’n’ roll from a band I’d never heard of.

  After throwing in my eggs and going for scrambled, I demolished my breakfast in seconds. I could never see the point in all that effort cooking and cleaning up when it took precisely ten seconds to eat. I loaded the dishwasher, determined for it to take as little of my time as possible. I had plans.

  I pulled a sneaker on my good foot and an old sock over my plaster cast. Then, grabbing my crutches, I headed straight out of the back door in the direction of the round house.

  I couldn’t wait to get there. It occurred to me that the round house and its secrets was the last thought I had before I went to sleep and my first when I woke up. It was strange that a ramshackle old building could rouse me so much after feeling dead for so long.

  When I was almost there something made me pause. Unease began to tingle up my spine. I got the distinct impression that I wasn’t alone. It was too quiet, and a weird feeling of anticipation hung in the air. Someone else was around.

  My heart pumped. ‘Hello?’ My voice cracked so I coughed and said it again, more loudly this time.

  Instead of a reply, I heard what sounded like rocks falling. I moved closer, dropped one of my sticks and shoved open the door. ‘Hey!’ I shouted.

  At first, all I could see was dust. When it cleared, no one was there. Part of the roof had caved in above the one seat that hadn’t rotted and had completely flattened it. There wasn’t that much rubble, just a roof beam and some plaster.

  Thankfully, it hadn’t hit the angel. She didn’t appear to have been damaged at all. She stood resplendent, even in the dust, and left me spellbound; just as she always did. Her hand held a perfect rose just like last time, but it was very definitely fresh. This one had barely opened and was covered in droplets of morning dew. The dust was settling on top, giving it a light sprinkling of snow. She was now facing a different direction; the hand holding the rose was pointing directly at the damaged seat.

  Before I ventured in, I looked up. There didn’t appear to be any danger of more falling wood. I leaned one of my crutches against the doorframe and hobbled in. I hated that the building seemed to be disintegrating before Burt had time to fix it. I hoped he’d hurry up now the weather would be getting in.

  One large piece of timber had crushed the seat. I stooped to see if I could lift it. It wasn’t that heavy, so I moved it about a foot to the side and let it go with a clunk.

  I looked down and sifted through the rubble with my crutch. The seat must have been hollow and hadn’t stood a chance with the force of the beam hitting it. Maybe Burt would be able to fix it or put something else in its place.

  I was just about to turn away when my cast clinked against something metallic. I bent down and ran my hand through the dust and plaster fragments. I only just saw it. I thought it was an old washer at first; it was so dusty and old. I picked it up and gave it a rub on my jeans. It quickly shined up to a gold ring with a magnificent half pearl in a stunning circular setting. It was beautiful and antique-looking.

  I gave the inside another clean with the corner of my shirt: LB, my heart I will follow, JWB.

  Did the couple still meet here? Maybe they made a hasty exit when they heard me coming, or when the roof started to give. I looked around. I’d thought I’d heard something but I was in front of the only door. Although the large floor-to-ceiling windows held barely any glass; someone could easily have climbed through one of the window frames. A small piece of plaster fell to the floor to prove a point. It wasn’t safe so I decided to go back to the house.

  * * *

  I came out from under the stairs into the hallway to the sound of a loud clanging bell. I followed the sound to the drawing room where I’d met my aunt for the first time. Maybe she needed help.

  I turned the knob and went inside. ‘Hello?’ The fire was alight at the far end, just like it was last time and the heat drew me to it.

  ‘About time. Come here, girl,’ my aunt said. I’d seen so little of her I’d forgotten she actually lived there. I approached the chair with its back to the room and smiled when I came face to face with her.

  She reminded me of a Dickens’ character sitting there, so stiff and straight in her lace collar. ‘Sit and talk to me a while, girl,’ she said, pointing to the upholstered footstool nearby. She reached over to a table next to her and picked up an old Thermos flask and unscrewed it with her gnarly hands. ‘It will have to be this bloody gnat’s pee today. Gerty will have to teach you how to make a fresh pot if she’s going to go off gallivanting on a Sunday.’ She poured milky tea into the two plastic beaker parts of the lid, while I tried to hide my amusement at the thought of Gerty gallivanting anywhere.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, taking a sip and trying to conceal my grimace. ‘I guess I could give it a try.’ Surely no attempt I made could taste any worse than this.

  ‘Sugar’s there,’ Aunt Sarah said, pointing at the small china bowl on the tray.

  I dropped in two lumps and gave it a stir but still wasn’t sure if even sugar improved it.

  ‘So, tell me what you have been up to since you arrived?’

  I skimmed over what I’d bought at the shops yesterday and seized my chance to mention the interesting conversation I’d had with Ollie Black – minus Tarts and Vicars, of course. ‘We met a boy there, in PC Planet. Tallulah knows him from school. He said his family had been close to ours for generations, or something.’

  I watched my aunt carefully, hoping that she could keep a thought in her head for longer than three seconds before she forgot it again.

  She frowned as if she was thinking very hard who that might be.

  ‘He said his name was Ollie Black but had dropped half of it. I forgot exactly how he put it,’ I said.

  My aunt nodded slowly as if she was just realizing who it must be. ‘Young Waxley-Black. Calls himself Black now, does he? Well, he’ll have to work a damn sight harder than that to get rid of the cloud over that family,’ she scoffed.

  Her reaction was so lucid and quick, I could only assume it was true. It appeared there was an ongoing feud between the two families rather than them being close. I was glad I asked as I fully intended to go to the party next weekend, so I made no mention of it. ‘He’s in my sixth form, apparently. Tallulah knows him quite well, I think.’

  ‘Yes, well she would. She’s nothing but a fly-by-night, that one. She’ll get herself in all sorts of trouble if Gerty doesn’t rein her in. Stay away from that boy and that family, if you know what’s good for you.’

  She really was getting herself worked up about it. I couldn’t take my eyes off the blue vein protruding down the middle of her forehead. I was seriously worried she’d give herself some kind of seizure so I nodded vigorously, although, I did want to seize the chance to get more information out of her. ‘Yes, Aunt. Of course. More tea?’ I asked, reaching for the flask. ‘I totally got the same impression. To be honest, Aunt, I didn’t like him much. I thought him a bit arrogant.’

  It did the trick. My aunt chuckled and relaxed back into her chair, taking the cup I offered with her. She nodded slowly. ‘You’re a wise girl. Boys like that have been the ruin of many a good family.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ I said in my most conversational tone. I don’t think I’d uttered so many words out loud since Pete died. I was surprising myself. ‘He mentioned something about a Blackwood curse. What’s that all about? Is it a real thing?’

  My aunt looked at me so shrewdly that I wondered if all the forgetfulness was an act. Maybe there were times when her brain was sharp. ‘So they say. Best stay away from the boys of that house to be on the safe side,’ she said with narrowed eyes.

  It didn’t sound as though there were any daughters. It made me wonder about Ollie’s brother and whether he was an older, hotter version of him. ‘What is it, then?’ I tried to modify the excitement in my voice. ‘You know, if it won’t affect me anyway.’

  My aunt reflected for a moment. ‘My mother told me stories – many years ago. The curse started way before I was born; about a hundred and fifty years ago. Lila Blackwood – in the portrait at the top of the stairs – struck up a friendship with the eldest of the Waxley-Blacks. Jedediah, I believe he was called. It was an age-old tale of forbidden love. Jedediah’s father forbade him to marry or even to have anything to do with Lila. Born the wrong side of the blanket, you see. We Blackwoods had a somewhat chequered past,’ she said with a wink. ‘Her mother was a low-born scullery maid; they said she was a witch. She’d died of consumption, so could no longer defend herself. Needless to say, it was easier to blame her and say the master of the house was bewitched, rather than a weak-willed old reprobate. It was, of course, a lousy excuse. Her dowry was simply not big enough to smooth over her low birth. Marriages were transactions back then. Money or power were how marriages were made.

  ‘Anyway, the Waxley-Blacks’ fortune was almost depleted owing to the old man’s excessive gambling and so their love was doomed. They were forced to continue to see each other in secret.’

  My heart pounded. I knew what she was going to say before she even said it.

  ‘In the old orangery, I believe – That is, until his new wife’s family put a stop to it. His father threatened to cut him off if he messed up the marriage deal. Lila disappeared after that. Some said she ran away to be on the stage – not a reputable business back then, but most believed she’d committed suicide because of a broken heart. The truth was, no one ever really knew what happened to her. However, the night before she disappeared, the servants reported she’d gone berserk with grief; saying all manner of wild things, like they were out to get her and that if she died she’d come back and haunt them. She cursed them all: neither the Waxley-Blacks nor the Blackwoods would ever find love or happiness unless they avenged her death. And an alliance between the families would mean certain death.

  ‘Whisperings had always abounded about her mother being a witch and so she could very well have the wherewithal to make such a curse.

  ‘Well, true to her word, she disappeared the next day. No one would use the orangery, saying it was haunted and there has been a long catalogue of deaths and divorces in both families ever since. So you could say the curse came true.’ Then she winked.

  I was left open-mouthed, unable to work out whether she was being serious or not. It was corny and out there, but it was compelling and romantic too. However outlandish it was, I couldn’t shake it off. The round house had lured me from the beginning. There were the roses, the fallen beam and this morning the ring, still in my pocket. The inscription by JWB, which had to be Jedediah Waxley-Black, and LB, Lila Blackwood. I wanted it to be true, but I wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe it was just a Heaven-sent distraction from everything else that was heart breaking and hopeless in my life. ‘Star-crossed lovers,’ I said, more to myself. ‘Do you know who leaves the flowers?’

  ‘What flowers?’ my aunt said with a frown.

  ‘Someone left a beautiful red rose yesterday and today in the round house – orangery,’ I corrected.

  My aunt looked exasperated and a little uncomfortable, as if the information had disturbed her. Then she looked reflective again. ‘Then we are too late. It’s already started again.’

  ‘What’s started?’ I asked, desperately trying to steer her back on track.

  ‘More tea, dear? Only got this blasted old thing. Never keeps the tea hot enough.’

  I stared at her for a full minute while she went on about the tea. I was so disappointed. She’d forgotten the whole conversation and started right back at the beginning again. There was nothing else for it but to ask her something completely different. ‘Aunt Sarah, if there was anything I needed to find out about my family, the Blackwoods, where would I go?’

  My aunt looked at me as if I’d gone mad. ‘Why, the library, dear child. Every family of substance keeps a good library.’ Then she dismissed me with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. ‘Directly across the hall. Journals, family trees, everything. Historic papers going back generations. I’m not really sure. I’m tired now. It was all such a very long time ago. Can you leave?’ I was shocked at her rudeness, then I remembered that she was suffering from dementia. Her eyelids looked heavy already.

  I took the half-full cup from her so she didn’t drop it and put it on the table next to her. Then I tucked the blanket around her knees and quietly left the room.

  The library wasn’t that big, but there were floor-to-ceiling racks filled with books. A desk was next to the window and a pair of brown sofas faced each other in the middle. I rested my crutches against one and turned a circle.

  Where to start?

  I began with the desk and soon found that what I was looking for would be far too old to be in there. I did, however, find a bunch of old keys on a large ring.

  Next, I checked out the books. Beautifully bound, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Running my hand along the rows, I came to a cabinet with a locked glass door. I could see it was filled with racks of journals and parchment scrolls. This could be something. My mind scrambled for a moment on how to get in, then I remembered the keys. I hopped back to the desk, grabbed them and tried three before one finally fit. I opened the glass door, guessing if I was going to find anything useful at all, it’d be in here.

 

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