The Blackwood Curse: A Night Shades Novel, page 5
There were many ledgers of accounts and binders containing birth and death certificates. I pulled out one of the scrolls and was thrilled to see it was a beautifully hand-drawn family tree. It only went back to 1903, so I took another. I took it over to the desk and laid it out using two heavy paperweights to hold down the top corners.
My finger traced the many branches looking for the familiar name. There were many children. Some had very short lives. A lot never even got to marry.
I was about three-quarters up the page when I came to Lord Byron Horatio Blackwood, who married Matilda Letitia Grey. They had a son and two daughters and there, on a limb all on her own, was Lila Mirabella Blackwood Dunn. There she was, the object of my fascination since the time I’d first arrived. Somehow, seeing her there made her more real. And even though it represented the reality of her situation, I felt sad for her; there all alone. She was on the same line as the other three but not joined to the tree. It made me angry for her that she was so conspicuously different. I’d found the object of my search, treated like an adopted member of the family. I couldn’t help feeling the parallel to me. I was stuck out on a limb and ignored; we were kindred spirits.
I put the scroll back and went through the binder of birth and death certificates next. Both were in a plastic wallet together, one for each person. Now I knew the name of her father, Lila was easy to find. Everyone’s was the same; birth on the front, death on the back. All that is, except Lila. There was only one, recording her birth. Lord Byron was recorded as her father and Florence Dunn her mother. I guessed it was pretty lucky that she appeared there at all.
It all pointed to the theory my aunt had spoken of earlier, that no one actually knew where she went and, therefore, when and where she’d died. There wasn’t anything else of interest in the cabinet after that. I locked it and put back the keys.
I browsed the books again. This was going to be my favourite place after the round house. The collection was amazing. Many of them belonged in a museum. They were leather-bound and some were even first editions.
Eventually I came to a battered, well-thumbed copy of Wuthering Heights. It was so worn and well-loved that I adored it instantly. I took it with me to sit on one of the sofas. When I opened the cover and heard the comforting crackle of the spine, my mouth went dry and I could barely breathe. The elaborate looped handwriting on the title page said:
* * *
LB,
your eternal rock,
JWB
* * *
Then, underneath, a quote from the book:
* * *
If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be, and if all else remained and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.
* * *
Wow! It felt like the author was speaking to me just as she’d spoken to Lila all those years ago. It felt like a promise – the promise to live on to find the other. Then something fluttered out of the pages onto my lap. It was a note scrawled with another quote:
* * *
Honest men don’t hide their deeds.
* * *
Then, underneath:
* * *
But indeed I must.
Let me send words as arrows to your heart, that they may be sure and true. A rose shot by the bow of an angel as my life’s blood.
JWB
* * *
It sounded like some kind of riddle and I had no idea what it meant. I looked at it and looked at it again, hoping the note would tell me something new.
On the surface it was poetic and romantic, but I couldn’t help thinking it held some hidden meaning. I folded the note carefully and put it back inside the book, then tucked it into the waistband of my pants.
I left the library, the words of the letter going round in my head. Over and over. I went back to the kitchen where I made a ham sandwich for lunch. I took the note out again, read it and reread it. What was it trying to tell me?
I went back to my room and tried to read the old, worn book to see if there were any other hidden scribbles or notes to be found, but there were none. Always, I ended up rereading the note.
Dusk came. Then nightfall, and the round house disappeared from view of my window seat. With a deep sigh I took out and read the note, yet again. Then, as if the words were highlighted to me, three words jumped out of the page:
Words
Angel
Rose
I almost stopped breathing. Could it be?
‘The orangery!’ I said aloud, looking out into the blackness. If only there was enough light. In the morning, as soon as I woke up, I would go back.
JBW had left something else in the round house and I had to find it.
Chapter 5
The kiss woke me up with a start. It was deep, with tongues and his weight was sublime on top of me. It was so real; I could see the pink of his skin and his dark lashes through my barely open eyes, but they were a veil hiding who he was. He felt so familiar in my arms. Even his smell attracted me and wasn’t overshadowed by the scent of roses all around us.
Open … open your eyes.
When I did, instead of seeing him, my eyes opened to the stars and the small glass chandelier on the ceiling of my room. I couldn’t help feeling disappointed. The brightness was replaced by grey; that grey of early morning. My body still tingled from the kiss and the feel of him, so close to me. It made me feel hot and in need of a shower.
I wiped my brow with the back of my hand and reached for the glass of water on the nightstand. The clock said 7 a.m. I might as well get up. I threw the covers back and my legs over the side of the bed, forgetting my cast. Feeling stiff, I hopped over to the window. The curtains scraped on the metal pole as I pulled the curtains back. I remembered it was the first day of school today, then I froze at the sight of the garden below me. Everywhere, as far as the eye could see, was a blanket of untouched snow. Oh my God. I couldn’t believe it. I thought England’s climate was warmer than this in October.
I switched my clock over to the radio to hear the news and all it told me was what I already knew: Snow, snow, snow. My mobile said flat battery and so did my MacBook.
I frowned. I’d had extraordinary bad luck with my tech stuff lately. It was weird.
I decided to get dressed and see if Burt or Gerty were around. ‘Hello, anyone home?’ I called over the banisters. There was no answer.
Then I began to worry about my aunt. With Gerty not here, perhaps she was stuck in bed. I knocked on the master bedroom door and couldn’t hear a sound. The house was silent.
I pushed open the door a little and listened. I could hear the indiscernible talking of women’s voices. It could be the TV, so I went further in.
A lady I didn’t recognise turned around. I could see my aunt sitting in the chair in front of her. She was giving her a wash, a towel in hand. ‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘It’s just no one else is around and it’s snowed.’
‘Yes, it’s bad, miss. I had to walk here today,’ the woman said. ‘I’m Rose, your aunt’s nurse.’
I smiled. ‘I’m Beccah. Do you know if I’m still going to school today?’
My aunt’s face took on a faraway expression. She didn’t seem very lucid this morning. ‘It won’t stop now,’ she said. No one’s going anywhere until you meet him.’
‘Meet who?’ I said. I wasn’t sure if she was talking about me or lost in a memory.
‘The Waxley-Black boy.’ She sighed deeply. ‘It’s happening again, and no one can escape it.’
‘Shush now,’ Rose said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.
I found my aunt really disturbing like this, so I made my excuses to go. ‘I think I’ll get ready and wait, just in case.’
‘There’s no point … no point,’ my aunt said over and over. Rose gave me a sympathetic smile.
* * *
I took a quick bath and dressed as warmly as I could. I decided on one of my new sweaters and a long skirt I’d got for school. I pulled on some long socks, stretching one over my cast.
I knew exactly where I was going first. Without even a drink or breakfast, I shot out of the back door, finding the snow pretty heavy going with my crutches. The cold was already seeping in through my sock; the soft powder impossible to keep out.
My heart beat faster as it always did as I neared the round house. I just never knew what I’d find. When I got there, it looked like a fairy-tale cottage with icicles glittering in the sunlight. I peered in through one of the broken windows. Snow had come in through the hole in the roof. I propped my crutch in the door jamb as usual and pushed open the door. It was more difficult to move over all the snow that lay like fluff on the floor.
I managed it with a couple of hefty shoves, hopped in and scanned the room for change. Apart from the snow, everything appeared to be the same. The angel was in the same place and she still held the rose, only it had opened a little more today. My eyes followed where she was pointing at the crushed seat. It was where there was the most snow, as the hole in the roof was directly above it. I hopped over and crouched down, scooping up the snow in my hands and putting it aside. I wanted to look more carefully this time. There had to be something I’d missed. Some message. But I found nothing. All I found were six red rose petals amongst the snow that reminded me of drops of blood. I wondered if this was the message but dismissed it. The note I’d found in the library was written over a hundred years ago. Still, it did look like spilled blood.
I was bitterly disappointed. I’d been convinced I’d find something – a hidden note or personal keepsake. I couldn’t help feeling that the snow had been sent to keep me there for a reason, however silly that sounded, even to me.
I went back into the warmth of the house and was surprised to find Gerty there, stirring a huge pot. ‘Porridge?’ she said.
‘Oh, you got here. Yes please. Do you know if the school is open today?’ I said.
‘No, it won’t be. No one will be going anywhere today unless it’s in a four-wheel drive or on foot. That’s why I was late. Burt will be here in a while, I expect. He’ll probably get on and start fixing the orangery. At least patch it up against the weather.’
I sat down at the table with my bowl of oatmeal, not sure if I liked the idea of Burt fixing the round house or not. I didn’t want him unknowingly destroying anything hidden there. ‘Do you think he’d mind if I helped him?’
Gerty looked at me as if I’d sprouted wings, or something. ‘You’ll have to ask him.’
‘What’s Tallulah doing today?’ I asked. On her phone, I guessed, with endless rounds of ‘he said this, and she said that’.
‘Well, when I last saw her, she whooped with delight and announced she was going back to bed.’
Her impression of her daughter made me laugh. I could so imagine her doing that.
Gerty switched the old transistor radio on; it was the size of a small clutch bag on top of the windowsill. It kept on about the freak weather for October that had closed schools and roads and even affected the power supply for some people. Guess I had my answer confirmed about going to school. Then I asked, without holding out much hope, ‘Will they still install the Wi-Fi today?’
Gerty widened her eyes as if I’d reminded her of something she’d totally forgotten about. ‘I doubt they will come out. They said the router will be posted. That might come today, if the postman can get here on his rounds. I’ll give the telephone people a ring this afternoon.’
I sighed, not sure what I’d do with myself.
Just then, the back door opened, and Burt came in after banging his boots on the step. ‘Mornin’, ladies … bloody weather. In October … have you ever heard of it?’
I certainly hadn’t. Gerty tutted. ‘It’s inconvenient, that’s what it is.’ She put a cup of tea down on the table for Burt and said, ‘I’ve got things to do.’
‘Gerty said you might work on the orangery today?’
Burt picked up his tea and pushed back his flat cap a little while he thought. ‘Yeah, should do really. Get the roof done at least. We don’t want more snow to ruin the inside, do we?’ He smiled and took a large gulp of tea.
I scraped the last of my oatmeal into the bin and said, ‘Can you be careful? I mean, if you find anything weird, or interesting, can you save it for me?’ I didn’t look him in the eye. I sounded too much like a weirdo.
‘Will do,’ he said. ‘Can’t say as I think there’ll be much to find. Specially now the only love seat left was squashed flat.’
My eyes widened. ‘Love seat?’
‘Yeah, that’s what they used to call ’em. Courting couples would sit and talk. They could look out over the gardens and that, while their chaperone waited not too far away, outside,’ he said with a wink, which made my cheeks go red. ‘So, what you gonna do with yourself today, then?’
I shrugged and was about to say something when Burt interrupted. ‘Oh! I almost forgot.’ He bent down and took something flat and heavy from the bag by his feet.
‘My old laptop?’ I said with a frown. I recognised it because it was ancient and covered in stickers of bands.
‘Yeah, I bumped into young Ollie Black yesterday and he gave it to me to give back to you. Said, when they switched it on to test it before they sent it off, it worked fine. So, he said try it and see how it goes. No charge or anything.’
I took it from him, thrilled to have it back. I’d already prepared myself for the worst and apparently I needn’t have worried. I’d have to thank him when I saw him next. My MacBook wasn’t working either today. Maybe something was interfering with everything electrical round here. I’d try it again later.
‘Do you need any help today?’ I said. ‘I’m going to be bored.’
Burt laughed and rolled his eyes. ‘No, love, why don’t you go off for a nice walk? The snow makes it look like a Christmas card out there and there’s some lovely countryside. You can take Brutus with you if you want?’
I stared at him, slightly wary at who the hell Brutus was.
He laughed. ‘He’s my little Jack Russell with severe ‘little guy’ issues. He’s in the Land Rover. Gerty won’t have him indoors. Says he upsets your aunt. More likely because of her spotless floors,’ he said, with another of his characteristic winks.
‘Ok,’ I said, not convinced. I guess it could be fun.
‘Come on, I’ll introduce you. Wrap up and I’ll meet you out front.’
I put my bowl and Burt’s cup in the dishwasher and went back up to my room to put on a few more layers. I put a boot on my good foot and another thick sock over my cast. Then I put on a hat and gloves. I was lucky, I’d only just got them.
In the end I wasn’t sure if I could move very far at all with all the padding, let alone through the snow. If I fell over, I was sure I would never get back up. I went down the stairs and straight out of the front door.
Burt was already there, letting out an impatient-looking black, white and brown terrier from the back of his Land Rover. He had the cutest brown eyebrows, brown muzzle and black button nose that scooted near the ground, sniffing, and headed straight for me as soon as he saw me.
‘Down, Brutus!’ Burt shouted when he jumped up at my legs.
I had to laugh at the most inappropriate name I’d ever heard.
‘Take this,’ Burt said, passing me a leash. ‘You won’t need it unless another dog comes along. Then put it on, because he thinks he’s a German Shepherd at times.’
The dog was already sitting, looking up at me expectantly; clearly recognising the lead. His tongue was comically hanging out the side of his mouth as he panted.
‘Don’t go too far. It won’t be easy on crutches.’ Burt pointed to a footpath that led off through the trees. ‘Follow the path. There’ll be less snow there. You’ll come to a fork eventually. Take the left one. It’ll bring you in a loop back here.’
I wasn’t sure and looked up the drive to where I knew was a road.
‘The snow is deep on the road,’ he said, bobbing his head at my bad leg.
‘Where does the other fork go in case I get lost?’ I took my phone out of my pocket and there was still no signal.
‘If you come out at the Waxley-Black place then you’ve gone too far.’
I tried to hide the surprise and interest from my face. Suddenly, the idea of a walk had become a whole lot more appealing. My sense of curiosity completely overtook the downside of an arduous walk. I just wished I hadn’t got the darn plaster cast on my leg. It was going to slow me up a lot.
I said a goodbye to Burt, making him promise again to keep anything interesting he found in the orangery, called Brutus, and assured him I wouldn’t stray from the path.
The dog, eager to get going, bounded past me and straight into the woods at the opposite side of the drive. At least he seemed to know where he was going.
Burt was right. Everything did look like a winter wonderland out here. The sun was now out, reflecting off the snow, making it glitter like diamonds. I took out my phone and took some amazing scenic photos and a cute selfie with Brutus, panting with his tongue out the side of his mouth. We continued on the path with him criss-crossing in front of me wherever the scent took him. It felt like we went on like this for ages.
My hands and shoulders began to ache, and I had to take frequent stops. It occurred to me then, that apart from the path, everywhere looked the same in all directions. If it snowed anymore it would be easy to get lost. The melting ice crackled around me sounding eerie, like everything was moving, and a bird called in the distance making a bleak and lonely sound. I quickened my pace.
When I finally came to the fork in the path, I wish I could say that I forgot Burt’s advice, but I didn’t. The truth was I was intrigued to see what the Waxley-Black place looked like.
I walked on for about ten more minutes, until the snow-laden trees began to thin out. The path led to a circular drive in front of a large old house, very similar to my aunt’s. Brutus ran on, eager to investigate, just as the front door slammed and a young man came out to a grey van parked just outside. Brutus barked to say hello.
