Gradually, I got rid of the dusty work clothes and jumped in the shower. I needed to calm down. I let the hot water wash away all my tiredness and frustrations. The last ten minutes in Jared’s company wore me out more than the whole day at the museum. Sometimes, I wonder why I’m still with him. I know for sure that I still love him, but I love Jared from the first six years of our relationship, not the stranger I’ve been living with for the past nine months.
I met Jared in my first university year. Me, an Arts student, Conservation and Restoration; him, a second year at the Conservatory. The first thing I noticed at him was the way he put his heart into everything he did, and the emotions he transmitted when his fingers touched the piano’s keys or the violin’s strings. Our relationship developed unhurriedly, and we moved in together after about three years. After we finished our studies, we found jobs wherever we could. Wishing for a life of our own, there was no way we could depend any longer on our parents, who had done their best all those years to support our dreams.
I could say he was a wee bit luckier than me. In a very short time, he found a job as a pianist in a five-star hotel. There, with some help from the manager, he got in contact with a small band at the beginning of the road. Joining the band as a side gig, and with the job at the hotel, he built a name for himself, which became more popular by the day. It didn’t take long until they were offered a record signing deal. With all that on his back, he became busier by the day, yet he never once neglected me. He always found time to spend with me, helped me with the housework without waiting for me to ask, he even encouraged me on a steady basis to keep looking for work in my field; he knew very well I was unhappy as a waitress. He never forgot any anniversary or my birthday. Even last year, when I turned twenty-three, he promised me that after they had the first tour, no matter how small, he would propose.
The opportunity showed up two months later. They had to leave in one month, but with a few days before the departure date, Jared suddenly decided he wasn’t going anywhere, and he was leaving the band. The only explanation he gave me was that he simply didn't want to and that I shouldn't stick my nose in his decisions. Ever since that night, Jared no longer set foot in the bedroom, spending all his time on the couch in the living room, with a beer in his hand and his eyes glued on the TV screen; occasionally strumming from an out of tune guitar he found at a flea market.
I talked to him countless times, trying to make sense of what was happening with him, but most of those discussions ended up in a fight. All my motivation attempts got lost in thin air, as I talked to the walls. I suggested he take a few counselling sessions, it was a financial effort that I was willing to make without a second thought, but he didn’t want to hear about it. The only solution I had left was to stay by his side and hope.
The shower helped me relax, but not enough to help me sleep. I swirled around the room preparing the clothes for the next day. I kicked the handbag I had thrown on the floor, and from it, came the book I’d brought from work. It had completely slipped my mind. I picked it up and carefully opened it to the first page. Under the title, slightly erased was written–Lady Jubilee Conwell. It was rather unusual to find such an old book featuring the original name of the author and not a male penname. The only explanation I could think of, which also made sense, was that there was only one copy of this book, which was created and kept inside the family.
At the bottom of the page, almost impossible to read, was something that looked like a dedication.
"You! The one who does not believe. Don’t shut your eyes to the gifts with which the gods have endowed you."
It's funny how I, the one who didn't believe, was reading this message. But I couldn’t help but wonder who it was really for. I set the book on the nightstand until I finished the rest of the preparations for the following day; just in time to hear some heavy snoring coming from the living room. I didn’t want to leave the room under any circumstances, but my heart wouldn’t allow me to let him sleep in the cold, with the window open and without a blanket. Sliding the door open, I passed by Jared on the tip of my toes, closed the window, covered him with a blanket, and turned the TV off. It seemed his light went off after only half a beer but looking at the pile of empty cans and bottles from around the couch, I could say he had far exceeded his norm.
Once back in the bedroom, I jumped in bed. Sure, it was a bit too early to go to sleep, but there was no reason for me not to enjoy the silence and read for a while; after all, this was the initial plan.
Picking up the book, I opened it with care. I had to be very careful with it since it was so old. Perhaps I could strengthen it a bit at work, I didn’t want to have a surprise as it unravelled between my fingers. As old as it was, there was no table of contents, but there was a short introduction, similar to a letter for someone.
“It blisses my weakened soul that after such a long time, this book has finally come in your possession. I know you do not believe now, but what awaits you in the near future will turn your life upside down, and just by opening your eyes and having faith in the unseen world around you, you will be able to overcome the challenges that will mark your destiny.
The Artefacts about which you will read in the following pages, affected the world in different ways, both good and bad. I do realise the list is far from complete. Some of them have disappeared entirely from the surface of the Earth, leaving behind only legends, while the ones that still exist are mainly inoffensive; except for one which has the power to ruin any life that comes in contact with it.
I know you will have many questions for me, and I will try to answer them all, as accurately as I can when we meet.
I hope to see you soon, and when I do, I hope you will believe.”
I somehow felt as if that letter was meant for me. The context was spot on. My life was messed up, and I unquestionably didn’t believe, but the meeting part was out of the question since the author and I existed in different centuries.
I turned the pages, reading the chapters’ titles. They were pretty obvious–Aphrodite’s Heart, Zeus’s Lightning, Poseidon’s Pearl, Artemis’s Bow, and so on. The drawings were quite suggestive, and one or two looked somewhat familiar.
Just a strange coincidence.
I kept turning the pages until I reached a missing portion. Someone was either excessively brutal with the book and didn’t bother to put back the escaping pieces of paper, or they didn’t want for this bit to be read. There were twenty missing pages; a chapter, or maybe two, since on the next page a new one began. I’m not sure why I felt sorry for that, but there was nothing I could do, so I returned to the first chapter and began to read.
I found it very interesting that she chose the first chapter to be about Aphrodite and her artefact and not about Zeus, who was the god among gods. As I read through the rows, I became more and more captivated. I remember what a pleasure it was for me, as a child, to learn about gods, heroes, mythological creatures, and their legends. Looked like nothing really had changed since then. Lady Jubilee had an extraordinarily clear storytelling style, with no detours but without skipping over important points.
Aphrodite’s Heart was a precious stone which brought its bearer fame, admiration, and respect, being infused with the very essence of the Love Goddess. It was one of the few artefacts still intact, at least at that time, being relatively inoffensive. For an extended period, the stone could be found in possession of the Royal Family, as one of the crown’s jewels.
In time, it was in hands who had no clue about its power, but there also existed those who abused it. The result was a temporary energy exhaustion; the moment in which everyone under its influence turned against the bearer, sometimes leading to death.
Unfortunately, I had to close the book, too scared not to break it. Every time I turned a page, the spine crackled loudly. With the feeling I’d be swamped starting the next day, I tried to go to sleep. Actually, it was more the email I got from the Director than my intuition. Something about an assemblage which ha
d to be prepared for display ASAP. No more details were added, but something told me this would turn into overtime.
Oh, well, at least I’m paid for it.
I was more tired than I thought. I fell asleep the moment my head touched the pillow and woke up due to that infuriating alarm clock. It was time to get ready for work, but I didn't have any longing to get out of bed. I moved around stealthily, having no intention of waking up Jared and giving him the chance to ruin my day so early in the morning. The last thing I had to do before leaving was to get the book. If I was going to finish it, I had to strengthen it.
The book, which I had carefully placed closed on the nightstand, was now opened at the missing pages.
Chapter 3
And . . . I was right.
The assemblage the Director mentioned, was, in fact, a massive collection of runes, tarot cards, and bones, used for future readings. The only way to finish all this by the deadline was to work overtime. The idea delighted and frightened me at the same time; delighted by the extra money coming my way at the end of the month and frightened by the possibility of staying all by myself in that place.
With a soft knock on the door, Laura came in, flashing a smile.
“I came to say goodbye.”
“You’re leaving?” I asked, a bit disappointed.
“The shift is over; the museum is closed. You should go home soon as well.”
“I’ll try, but these pieces are so meticulous that it takes me ages, and the Director wants at least half of them by Friday.”
“He is worse than a slave driver sometimes.” She scowled, putting her hands on her hips. “Try not to exhaust yourself, though. Your health is more important than whatever His Highness might say.”
“I’ll try.” I giggled. “I promise not to stay for more than another two hours.” But despite my promise, I didn’t realise when the time passed, and soon the grand clock in the main hall struck midnight.
This can’t be happening! I said to myself, but as fictional as I wished it to be, it was the truth, which meant the only option left to get home was by taxi; an expense I was unwilling to make.
I quickly checked the time on my phone. Midnight, indeed, yet not even a call or text from Jared. I bet he didn’t even notice my absence. His concern certainly warmed my heart
There was no point in heading home now. Also, if I were to take a taxi, it would still take about thirty-forty minutes. I would be left with only a few hours to sleep and would also waste money I didn’t have.
I made a little space on the desk, folded my scarf and put my head on it. I knew I’d wake up with back pain, but despite my uncomfortable position, I fell asleep.
As I fell asleep, I heard, closer and closer, the ticking of a clock. In that darkness, a young woman approached me, with a pocket watch wrapped around her right arm.
“I’ve been waiting for you for so long, and you’re finally here,” she said hopefully before she vanished.
When I opened my eyes, I felt my soul breaking in half. These weren’t my feelings, but they were just as painful. In front of my teary eyes stood an older woman with chestnut hair tied in a loop at the back of her head, a few wrinkles here and there, and eyes filled with compassion. She seemed nice, but that didn’t make me feel any better. I could hear other people talking around me; about money, about something they sold, but it made no sense to me. I couldn’t understand what was happening. Another woman lowered to my level and tried to speak calmly, stroking my head and hair, while her eyes were full of tears.
“I know this is difficult for you, but think about your brothers and sisters. If we hadn’t done this, they would’ve starved to death. You know mama loves you no matter what.”
“If that were true, you wouldn’t have sold me like an animal,” a child’s voice was heard.
It was me, but I had no control over what I said or did. I was a spectator through someone else’s eyes. Right at that moment, a firm slap hit the child’s face, throwing her to the ground, and a man—the father, I presumed—grabbed the mother by the arm and dragged her away. The woman who until then had just sat on the side and watched, came near the child who had risen in the meantime.
“Don’t worry, you will see your family again,” she tried to encourage her. “The Earl and his family are very kind people. My name is Emma, and I will teach you everything you need to know, so you will have a good life working in this house.”
She nodded.
“What’s your name, child?” Emma asked.
“L-Leah,” she answered among sighs.
“Follow me, Leah. We need to get you cleaned up and fix your uniform, but first, you need to eat something; you’re nothing but skin and bones.”
Leah had never seen so much food in her life, and maybe, if it were an ordinary day, she would have enjoyed the plate in front of her, but her parents had given her away from home for less money than you could take on a lamb.
The grey dress, which served as her uniform, was a little loose, but she had never received a new dress nor had a dress that would be hers alone, without having to share it with her sisters. A ray of hope began to sprout in her soul. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all. All the other servants she met along the way, encouraged her as much as they could, though they had never seen her before, and all had nothing to say but words of praise when it came to the Earl’s family.
“Leah, come with me,” Emma said. “The young lady wants to meet you.”
I felt her soul shiver with fear. What if she would say something stupid? What if the young lady wouldn’t like her, and she would drive her away? She began to walk scared, with her eyes on the floor, one step behind Emma who started to educate her.
“Remember the first and most essential rule. Never talk without being talked to first; never make direct eye contact unless requested, and you respect all orders no matter how strange they might sound. You will see in time that they are exceptional people with very peculiar interests. And one more thing; in this house, gossiping is not allowed under any circumstances.
It wasn't long before they stopped in front of two big, white doors. After a short knock, from the other side, a crystalline voice was heard.
“Come on in, Emma.”
She pushed the heavy doors, and both entered the spacious room.
“My Lady, I brought her. This is Lady Jubilee Conwell;” Emma addressed the child. “After you learn what you have to do, you will take care of her quarters and fulfil any orders you may receive from her ladyship.”
Leah attempted something like a clumsy reverence, but then, curiosity overcame her fear, and raising her eyes slightly from the floor, Leah looked at the woman in whose hands was laying her fate. As she looked up, we were more and more enchanted by what we saw; starting from the blue dress so elaborately made, the long black hair falling in waves reaching down to her hips, white skin, and black eyes with thick eyelashes…
“You are so beautiful,” Leah said aloud; but realising her mistake, she quickly averted her eyes, ashamed.
She’d been there for less than five minutes and already broken a rule. Closing her eyes tightly, she waited for her punishment, but Lady Jubilee only chuckled.
“Raise your face, child,” she said. “What is your name?”
“Leah, My Lady,” she answered, slightly lifting her head, only to notice that the distance between the two of them was only getting smaller.
“You are so tiny,” her eyes narrowed. “How old are you?”
“Thirteen.”
“Emma, it is your responsibility to make sure from now on Leah is fed properly. In her current state, she won’t even be able to lift a pillow.”
“Yes, My Lady.” Emma bowed her head.
“I know I can count on you to do what’s right. You are a strong young woman,” she said, placing a hand on the child’s chest, “and you will get even stronger with proper guidance. You and I will get along just fine.” She smiled.
Lady Jubilee looked her deep in the
eyes, but it was like she could see something beyond Leah. It was as if she could see me.
***
I woke up with a bang when my behind touched the floor. Maybe it would be a good idea, if I’ll ever have slumber parties at work again, to lock the chair’s wheels before going to sleep.
I got back on my feet with some difficulty, rubbing the painful area. That’s what I got for not paying attention to my surroundings. And speaking of surroundings, the sun was up in the sky and had been for quite a while, but why was it so quiet?
I went out to the empty and quiet museum. Even the main doors were locked, and there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for it; it was Monday. The museum was always closed on Mondays, so I could go home. I slapped my forehead; I could’ve gone home last night. At least now I could use the monthly ticket and not waste any more money. I went back to my workshop to collect my things, and I would have almost left without the book if the cream pages on my desk hadn't caught my eye. I was quite sure I’d left it closed; yet, again, it was opened at the missing pages. Maybe I hit it with my hand during the night. I took it to put it in my bag, but stopped mid-way; had I just had a dream about Lady Jubilee? What meant a tired mind; so easily influenced.
It was time to go, I needed sleep in a proper bed.
The way back home was at the very least exhausting. As usual, the underground was so crowded, that if someone was moving, even an inch, I could have kissed the neck of the person in front of me. No wonder I had no social life, spending time with humans was draining.
The Curse of Time Page 2
