Dead Souls Volume Three (Parts 27 to 39)

by Amy Cross

  ***

  From afar, the island of Thaxos was just a ridge of green and yellow, resting serenely with the rippling blue waters of the Mediterranean all around. Anyone seeing the island from such a distance would undoubtedly imagine it being utterly idyllic, with no idea of the horrors that unfolded on a regular basis. Only as they got closer would they notice the mansion high up on the central hill, and they might start to wonder who would want to live in such an imposing building, and why.

  Still, the scene was so calm and serene, it would be almost impossible to imagine that anything too awful could happen on such a beautiful island.

  Suddenly a roaring engine could be heard, as a small motorboat broke the silence and cut through the water, heading straight for Thaxos with just one person onboard.

  II

  “Hello,” Estella said, standing in the doorway with a sad, faint smile.

  Looking up from his desk, Doctor Lassiter stared for a moment, shocked to see his unexpected visitor. Getting to his feet, he smiled as he made his way over to her, although he couldn't help feeling a little flustered. Estella always set his heart racing just a little.

  “Estella, to what do I owe this -”

  “Are you busy?” she asked. “I don't want to disturb you.”

  “No, of course I have time for you, please...”

  “Your waiting room was empty, but -”

  “I have no patients right now,” he continued. “That's a rare thing.”

  He gestured for him to go over to one of the sofas on the far side of the room.

  “I shan't take long,” she replied, glancing down at the small glass vial in her hands, “I just...” She paused, realizing that although she'd rehearsed this meeting over and over in her mind, she suddenly felt woefully under-prepared. “Well, I just thought this would be a good chance to come and see you. After all, I'm to be married to Baron Le Compte in just a couple of days' time, and after that things will be... different.”

  “Yes,” he said, with a hint of caution in his voice, “I suppose they will.”

  “Might I have something to drink?” she asked as she headed to the sofa. “Tea, perhaps?”

  “Absolutely. I was just thinking that I could do with some myself.”

  As Doctor Lassiter headed through to the kitchen, Estella used a handkerchief to wipe dust from the sofa, and finally she took a seat. She waited patiently, knowing that she should say something but feeling as if silence was a welcome refuge. She could hear Lassiter working in the next room, and after a few minutes she heard the familiar whistle of the water-boiler, and she allowed herself a smile – genuine, this time – as she remembered all the times in their youth when he'd made a cup of tea in order to calm her nerves. Tea, for Doctor Paul Lassiter, was better than any balm or cream, and was perhaps the greatest medicine of all. She always thought of him when she drank tea, even at Edgar's mansion.

  “Just a moment longer,” he called out.

  “It's fine.”

  She looked down at the vial again. The clear liquid looked so innocent, as if it could have no effect at all, but she'd worked all night to make sure that it would perform its task. For the first time, she was going to try using her powers for something permanent, something that would stick. Now she only had to -

  “Here,” he said, bringing two cups through and setting them on the table, before taking a seat in the chair opposite. “I don't know how I'd get through my days without tea. God, that sounds bad, doesn't it? I know it's a drug, really, and I should try to wean myself off it, but I suppose we all have our vices.”

  They sat in silence for a moment, each waiting for the other to speak first.

  “Once I am married to Edgar,” Estella said finally, with tears in her eyes, “I don't think it would be appropriate for us to see one another again.”

  “I -” He paused, clearly shocked by her words.”Right...”

  “You know how things are,” she added.

  “Well, I suppose there...” He looked down at his cup for a moment.

  “I'm sure you'll find someone,” she continued. “There must be dozens of pretty young women in town who'd jump at the chance of being a doctor's wife. I mean...” She glanced around the bare room. “Don't take this the wrong way, Paul, but the place could use a woman's touch. You should take a wife at the first opportunity, if only to improve the décor.”

  “I'll take that into account,” he replied.

  “Plus you need someone to cook your meals. I do hate to think of you finishing work and going home to an empty house, with an empty kitchen, and an empty bed.”

  “And do you think of that often?” he asked.

  She paused. “From time to time.”

  He allowed himself a faint smile.

  “Now I know that there might be some silliness,” she continued, “or some lingering feelings, or some other nonsense that we've generally been ignoring these past few years, but I want you to know that...” She paused. “Well, I want you to know that if it wasn't for Edgar, I might well have considered becoming your wife myself. There, I've said it. I've always been extremely fond of you, Paul, and I feel that there are a few things that have gone unsaid for so long, and it feels good to get them out. I hope I'm not distressing you in any way.”

  “Of course not.”

  “At the same time, what's past is past. I am marrying Edgar, and that's simply the end of it. Once the ceremony is over, I shall be extremely busy with the house and the gardens, and I don't think I shall come down into the town much, if at all. I see a great separation coming in my life, so I thought it would only be polite to come and say -” She paused again, focusing for a moment on the need to keep from weeping. “I thought I should come and say... I mean, I should...”

  Again, silence fell between them.

  “Goodbye?” he asked finally.

  She nodded, before looking down at her hands in the hope that he wouldn't see her tears.

  “I suppose I knew this was coming,” he continued. “It must have been very hard for you to come here today.”

  She shook her head, as a single tear dripped down onto her lily-white gloves.

  “Well, I agree with you,” he continued. “There's no need to draw these things out. I know it's becoming fashionable these days to talk about emotions until the cows come home, and that's all well and good, but sometimes such issues are better left in one's own heart, don't you think?”

  “Absolutely,” she whispered.

  “It's a shame to be losing a friend,” he added, taking a sip of his tea but finding it to be a little too hot. “We were friends, Estella, were we not?”

  She nodded.

  “And maybe even a little more than that,” he continued. “Maybe -”

  “No.”

  He paused. “No?”

  “Don't say it. Even if it's the truest thing in the world, don't say it.”

  “I'm sorry,” he replied, clearly concerned, “I didn't mean to upset you.”

  “Edgar's house is so beautiful,” she continued, still looking down as a few more tears fell onto her gloves. “And so huge, too! I think I shall never finish getting it set up the way I want, there are so many rooms! And I know how the people of this town look up to the Le Comptes, so it shall be a wonderful privilege to be part of that world., to be high up there, knowing that the people of Thaxos esteem the family so very much.” Instinctively, she used the back of her left hand to dry her eyes, but she quickly saw that the tears were soaking into the fabric. Putting her hands back in her lap, she couldn't help staring down at the vial. “I am so very lucky,” she continued, her voice starting to break into a sob, “and I must pull myself together and focus on being the best wife I can, because I can, you know. I can, I swear, I know I can...”

  “You will be the most wonderful wife,” he told her. “Edgar Le Compte is the luckiest man in the world, and I hope he knows that.”

  She nodded.

  “I suppose,” she continued, “that you think me t
o be very old-fashioned.”

  “Just a little.”

  “I can't help it.”

  “I know.” He paused. “Estella...” Getting to his feet, he hurried over and sat next to her. He paused again, worried about decorum, before putting an arm around her shoulder. “Is that okay?” he asked.

  “Is what okay?”

  “Me... touching you.”

  She paused.

  “If it helps,” he added, “I'm quite sure it'll be the last time ever.”

  She nodded. “It's fine.”

  “If he ever treats you badly,” he continued, “you know you can come to me. I'm not just talking about physical things, I doubt Le Compte would actually stoop so low as to hit a woman, but there are other ways people can hurt one another. Emotional abuse -”

  She shook her head.

  “It's real,” he continued, “and it can be as damaging as physical abuse, and the scars sometimes take much longer to heal. Don't let Edgar manipulate you, if that bastard -”

  “You mustn't say such things,” she whimpered.

  “I mean it,” he told her. “This might be my last chance to tell you what I really feel. Don't let him grind you down, don't let him make you think you aren't worth anything. You act like you're the lucky one, being allowed into his world, but the truth is, he's the one who's lucky. He's getting you in his life, and if he has any sense at all he'll let you change things, he'll let you do what you do best and he'll welcome everything you have to offer.” He paused, waiting for her to reply but realizing, after a moment, that she was still weeping. “You don't have to marry him,” he added finally.

  She turned to him, as tears ran down her cheeks.

  “You don't,” he continued. “Estella, you have every right to tell him to go to hell.”

  They sat in silence for a moment, as if they were each scared to speak.

  “You could stay here,” he said finally, with a hint of fear in his voice, “and then... Remaining on Thaxos would be impractical in the long-term, so you'd have to leave after a while.”

  “And go where?”

  “I don't know, but... I could go with you.”

  “Don't be foolish.”

  “We could find somewhere,” he continued, reaching out to take her hand. “We could go together.”

  “Paul -”

  “It's not too late.”

  She looked down at his hand, watching as his fingers slipped between hers.

  “Marry me, Estella.”

  She shook her head.

  “Come away with me and -”

  She pushed his hand away.

  “There's a ferry later this week,” he continued. “Maybe that's a sign, maybe it's God's way of letting us know that we have this chance.”

  “I can't marry you,” she told him. “I love Edgar.”

  “Do you? Or do you just love the idea of him?”

  She shook her head again.

  “I know being a doctor's wife isn't the same as being the wife of a great man like Edgar Le Compte,” he continued, “but none of that stuff matters, not if you actually love the person you're with.”

  “You're very sweet.”

  “I love you.” He waited for her to reply, but as each second ticked past he felt a sense of dread in his heart. “I love you Estella,” he said again, “and I know I'm not a man like Edgar Le Compte, but I think I can offer things he can't. I have a good profession, I can find a new place to work on the mainland...” Another pause. “I love you, and I know you love me too, even if you won't say the words.”

  He waited.

  Her lips quivered for a moment, as if she was on the verge of saying something, but finally they remained sealed

  “I still know,” he said quietly.

  “Such foolish notions,” she stammered, picking up her tea but somehow letting the handle slip through her fingers. The cup fell to the ground and smashed. “Oh, I'm so sorry...”

  “It's nothing.”

  “Might I... Might I have another?”

  “Of course.” He quickly gathered up the broken pieces, before hurrying to the kitchen.

  Once she was certain that he was going to be out of the room for a little while Estella looked down at the vial for a moment before finally unscrewing the lid. She glanced at the door again, before reaching over to Lassiter's cup and pouring the contents of the vial into his tea. Grabbing a spoon, she gave the tea a quick stir, and soon there was no sign that anything had been added. Slipping the empty vial into her purse, she sat back and waited for him to return. Sniffing back tears, she tried to regather her composure, and finally she took a series of slow, deep breaths that helped her to get her emotions under control.

  “I meant every word that I said,” Lassiter continued as he brought a new cup through and set it down in front of her. “If you'll just think about it -”

  “Let's not talk about such silly things,” she replied, forcing a smile. “You should drink your tea, it's going to get cold.”

  “Damn my tea, I want to -”

  “Damn your tea?” she continued. “Why, I never thought I'd hear such words come from your lips. Tea always makes one feel better, don't you think? So drink up.”

  Sighing, he took his cup and sipped a little tea.

  “Drink it all,” she told him, her voice thick with tension. “Come on, Paul, you always say that tea is like a wonder-drug. I'm sure you'll feel so, so much better.”

  He continued to sip at his tea, before downing the rest in one go and turning to her. “Listen, Estella, I know you might think that the things I said were foolish and wrong, but I meant every word. We can leave Thaxos together and start a new life. I think I have a pretty good idea how you feel, and I know you don't love Edgar, not really, and I know I'll be a better husband than him. If you're really honest with yourself, you have to admit that it's the trappings you really care about. You love his mansion, you love the titles and the airs and graces, you love the parties, you love the idea of rising above the rest of this miserable little island, but...” He paused, searching her eyes for some hint of an answer. “Do you really, truly love the man himself?”

  She took a deep breath, followed by a sip of tea.

  “Yes,” she said finally, “I do love Edgar. I love him with all my heart, and if you don't understand that, it's your problem.”

  “Estella -”

  “I put longsummer wort in your tea,” she continued. “Do you know what that is, Paul?”

  “I... Longsummer wort? Isn't that a flower that grows on -”

  “It's absolutely harmless,” she told him. “It's not poisonous at all, but when it's combined with certain other items, it has some remarkable properties. Of course, they only work if one knows how to handle them.”

  “What are you talking about?” He looked down at his empty cup. “Estella, why -”

  “Memories are such funny things,” she continued. “They can drive us to do foolish things, such as proposing marriage to women who are already engaged. Ordinarily memories are pleasant enough, but occasionally it would be nice if one could lose a few. I don't see that you'll gain much from sitting around in this dusty old surgery, thinking about what might have been, or what could be one day...”

  “Estella -”

  “I'm a witch,” she told him.

  He stared, as if he could barely believe the words that had just left her lips.

  “You won't remember this in a moment or two, so I might as well tell you. I don't really understand how it happened, but in the past few weeks I've begun to develop certain abilities. I think it was that time in the church that kicked it all off, although perhaps the powers had been dormant since I was a child. Either way, I am becoming more a part of Edgar's world than I ever thought possible, and I'm only just beginning to understand what I shall be able to do. So you see, there is yet another reason why the pair of us could never be together, Paul. You could no more marry a witch than I could marry a common doctor.”

  “Is that what I
am to you?” he asked. “A common doctor?”

  She nodded.

  “And you really mean that?”

  “I...”

  “If I'm really about to lose my memory of all this,” he continued, “what harm is there in telling the truth?”

  “Because I will still remember,” she told him, “so there is that to consider.”

  “Estella, we can't control our memories. The past is what it is, and whether you like it or not, you and I -”

  “Have barely met.”

  He stared at her, shocked by the suggestion.

  “It's true,” she continued, sniffing back more tears. “All those days we spent together as children, all the fun we had, all the laughter... None of it actually happened.”

  “Of course it did!”

  “The longsummer wort, combined with a few of the other substances in the vial I slipped into your tea, will take away certain memories,” she explained. “Do you remember that day we walked around the whole island? We can't have been more than fifteen or sixteen, and we kept to the shore, it took us all day but we managed it.”

  “Of course I remember that day, we -”

  “You won't, not in a moment or two.”

  “Estella, I will never forget that day, or -”

  She waited for him to finish, and finally she saw the hint of confusion in his eyes.

  “We...” he continued, as if he was struggling to summon the memory. Clearly disturbed, he got to his feet and headed over to his desk.

  “It's already fading,” she told him calmly. “Soon, all memories of our friendship will be lost, and you'll just know me as someone from the town who ended up living in the mansion, and you'll have no idea that we were ever close. And those memories will remain lost to you until the day you die.”

  “Estella...”

  “It's better that way. I hate to think of you down here, pining away, when you should be happy. It's my wedding soon, Paul, and this is my gift to you.”

  “I don't want to forget,” he gasped, leaning against the desk as if he was in pain. “Estella, please, I don't know how you're doing this, but I feel as if...”