by Aline Riva
“There is a chill in the air!” she announced, “I do not think it is the rain or the storm...I feel coldness creeping in.”
She looked about the room as outside more lightning flashed.
“Something has touched us...”
“No. Something touched me,” he replied, getting out of bed as another flash from the skies forked brightly, illuminating his naked form, then he grabbed a black silk robe, threw it on and went over to a table by the window, where a crystal ball was reflecting the storm and it seemed as if the lights from above that forked the sky reflected into the globe itself, trapping lightning in the ball. As he sat at the table and placed his hands either side of the crystal, the door opened and a flood of light came in from the hallway as a second woman joined them. She was shorter with fair hair that fell to her shoulders, her white nightgown skimmed her thighs and as she went over to the table and placed her hand on his shoulder, Raine glanced up at her.
“So glad you could join us, this is something you need to see, Louisa... I said you had a talent for scrying... observe this...”
Then as Tatiana joined them and the two women looked on in awe,he moved his hands over the crystal ball and the reflected lightning faded out as within, grey clouds swirled and snow began to fall in a flurry.
“This is curious...” he muttered as he focussed on the vision within, “At a time of snowfall there will be a death... and I see a demon rising... But where? When?”
The vision faded and the globe was just a glass ball again, reflecting another flash of lightening in the angry skies beyond the window. He gave a sigh of frustration and the woman named Louisa massaged his shoulders through his silken robe, but he shrugged off her touch.
“Tonight isn't a time for fan girls – sorry. This is serious... something is coming.. something I don't like the sound of one bit. Tatiana, leave me be until morning. You too, Louisa. I need to meditate.”
As the two women left the room, the young male witch known as the Magi sat there alone, a troubled look reflecting in his dark brown eyes as he finally let slip the confident, professional veneer that made the women subscribe to his channel and fall at his feet.
“Shit!” he muttered, “It's a demon... a bloody soul trader... What am I supposed to do about that? And why me?”
Then he looked again into the crystal ball, drawing up every last trace of his psychic energy as he tried to look deeper – but saw only a swirl of falling snow, somewhere behind it Christmas lights twinkled on a decorated tree, then the scene vanished once more.
The storm was moving off now, the thunder was distant and as he looked to the window and watched as a downpour began to spatter the pane he felt that cold chill returning – this was just the start, an omen of something terrible getting closer every day as if that demon was riding in on the wind...
“I'm not sure I can handle this,” he murmured, then he fell silent as the weather outside stayed as unsettled as his thoughts and he wondered if perhaps his involvement with the occult had taken him deeper than he had ever intended to go – a bit of white magic online had brought him fans and followers and women and money – but this was a demon, a real one. He wasn't sure if he ought to prepare to fight, or pack a suitcase and run...
Friday came around fast.
Cherry had not heard from Drake since the day she had visited the museum, but not hearing from him when he had her number and her email only made her feel sure there was no change of plan.
By five thirty that evening it was already dark and freezing cold outside, flakes of light snow had started to fall and after trying on several outfits and then deciding none were right for a night out in the snow, she left the pile of discarded clothing on the floor and went for her warmest jeans, her thickest boots and a warm jumper over a t shirt.
Once her coat was on, her hair barely styled under her warm winter hat, she cast a glance back at the black dress, the green skirt, the long blue dress, the velvet top and other items she had left in a heap and glanced to the mirror. At least she had put on some make up and looked okay despite the cold and the falling snow cancelling out her hottest outfits. It would be freezing down by the restaurant, it was across the road from the pier and the air would feel like ice and one look to the window told her the snow was falling heavier already...
Still on time, Cherry left the house and her best friend who was in the front room with the heating on watching TV and ventured out into the cold. As she closed the gate behind her and stood there on the street she looked up watching a cascade of snowflakes falling in a flurry, coloured amber under the glow of the street lights as they fell to soft ground already forming a thin blanket of snow that had settled on the pavement, on leaves of evergreens and on boughs of trees stripped by the passing of Autumn.
She considered calling a taxi but that would have made her too early and she wanted to be outside the restaurant when he showed up, so instead she headed off to the bus stop, it was a short walk and the cold had not yet managed to get to her, but she was sure it would by the time she got off at the last stop and the air came blasting like ice carried over from the sea.
As the bus took the darkened route past the fields looking gloomy by night as snowflakes fell heavier still, she noticed the bus had slowed a little, the roads were not coping well with the snow that was settling even though it was a thin layer. She wondered what would happen if it worsened during the evening and public transport was cancelled or roads became inaccessible. Then she smiled, looking down and hiding her smile in the thick scarf that she wore as she guessed it wouldn't get that bad – maybe it was just that she liked the idea of her and Drake, snowed in together at the museum...
The bus reached the final stop and as the doors opened the icy air blasted in along with a flurry of flakes and the sharp scent of freezing sea air. She got off the bus, went into the shelter where the panels that kept out the elements saved her from more of the snowfall, then she took out her phone and sent a message to Drake:
See you at the restaurant in ten minutes.
There was a brief pause and then a message came back:
Who is this?
“Just the woman you invited for dinner!”she exclaimed aloud, oblivious to the stares of a small crowd of shoppers, laden heavy with bags after an evening shopping spree making the most of the extended opening hours in the town centre.
She turned her back to the crowd, facing the clear wall of the shelter as driving snow pattered against it and sent another message:
This is Cherry. You said to meet me at the restaurant?
There was no delay with the reply this time.
Change of plan. Meet me at the museum, something has happened. It's urgent. Sorry.
“Sorry?” she said aloud, “Yeah no problem, I'll just walk up the promenade in the blizzard!”
Then she sent a message back that did not reflect her annoyance:
Okay.
All trace of anger at the walk uphill in the freezing snow was fading out by the time she turned the corner and headed for the museum, where the closed sign was on the door but through a window a warm light blazed brightly. It was the fact that she was freezing cold by now, that was enough to ice the anger out of her...Now she was wondering what could have happened to change his plans – and she really wanted to know why he had not bothered to tell her until now. It had to be work, maybe another disagreement with Owen... Or there could be a million other things to blame, because she barely knew him and had only met him once...
As she went up the steps to the door she tried to push all trace of annoyance aside. He seemed like a nice guy and there had to be a good reason why he had not bothered to tell her dinner was cancelled until the last minute, but she felt sure the first question she would ask would be why, as soon as he opened up the door, because she had been expecting a dinner in a warm restaurant, not to have to make her way through the snow in the freezing cold back to the museum after dark.
A shadow moved behind a heavy curtain as someone r
ose from a seat in the office. Then she hit the buzzer even though she knew he had seen her approaching the entrance. She waited, ready with her question.
The door opened and suddenly her question about why he had dragged her up here in the cold was far from her thoughts:
Drake wasn't there. Owen had answered the door...
“Cherry...Come in, please,” he said.
His voice was hushed and his eyes looked red...Had he been crying? Suddenly she felt alarmed as she followed him inside and he closed the door, she noticed his hands were shaking and his face was pale. His light grey suit looked creased as if he had slept in it.
“Come though to the office, I need to talk with you. Something has happened.”
With that he turned around and walked off in the direction of the office, giving her no time to demand answers.
She hurried after him, joining him in the office, closing the door behind them and as he heard it shut he turned from a drinks cabinet in the corner, a glass of neat brandy over ice was in his hand.
“Would you like a drink?”
She shook her head.
“I just want to see Drake. I arranged to meet him tonight. Where is he, what's going on?”
“Please, sit down.”
He gestured to the sofa and she sat there, he came over and joined her, sitting on the other end of the seat keeping a distance between them. His hand shook again as he raised the glass and drank from it, then he set it down unsteadily. As he looked back at her she saw a strange expression in his eyes, perhaps one of shock, certainly deepest sorrow was in there too... Now she felt a flicker of alarm.
“What's happened? Is Drake okay?”
He said nothing for a moment, seeming to struggle in his pause to compose and arrange his thoughts as he silently shook his head, looked away then back at her, still saying nothing.
“Owen, what's wrong? Drake said he would meet me tonight. He's not here, so where is he? Is he in trouble? Did something happen? What's going on?”
He still hesitated.
In that moment as her heart quickened its beat she got a terrible cold feeling wash over her that had nothing to do with the weather outside – bad news was coming, she was sure of it...
“Owen? What's wrong?”
He drew in a slow breath, still pale and visibly shaken as he reluctantly met her gaze.
“I...I don't know how to say it...every time I say it I can't believe it...I'm sorry, Cherry. Drake died two days ago.”
As she recalled their last meeting, every moment seemed frozen in her mind, the way his eyes had sparkled, how her heart had warmed instantly to him....Drake was dead? It seemed impossible. Tears stung at her eyes as she spoke in a voice choked with disbelief.
“No...he can't be! I saw him a few days ago and he was fine! No, there has to be a mistake, you must have heard it wrong -”
“Cherry, he was here in the office with me when he collapsed. We had been talking about the future, making plans for this place, we'd drawn up a new business agreement, it was a good afternoon, a complete turn around from the way things had been lately – then he just collapsed. My best friend just collapsed on the floor.”
His voice trembled as he blinked away tears, looking to the rug near the desk.
“I still can't believe it happened...not the way it did... one minute he was fine the next...”
He paused, stifled a sob and wiped his eyes as he looked down at the floor. Then he slowly raised his head, staring at her like the shock was still heavy on him, too heavy to shake off.
“I called an ambulance. They asked me if he had taken anything...I said no, I mean, Drake wasn't like that...they seemed to think he had reacted to something...but later at the hospital they said he was in a coma, blamed it on his lifestyle – all that stress and work and never stopping... It just happened with no warning, he collapsed and there was nothing I could do. I didn't expect him to last for two days after that but he did. He held on but in the end, he couldn't survive. They said he would never recover...switched off his life support. I didn't expect him to go through all that, I thought he was gone when he went down on the floor, it was so fast...but he held on...I wish I could have stopped it from happening! I just wanted to save him, I keep thinking about it!”
Tears streaked his face as she stared back at him, sorrow filling her heart as her eyes stung with tears.. She didn't want to believe it was true, but she was hearing it and one look at Owen's shocked expression was all the confirmation she needed.
“Did he suffer?” she asked quietly.
“I hope not... I keep asking myself that question. I think I always will.”
He grabbed the drink in front of him and downed it in one, then set the glass down hard again as the melting ice hit the side of the glass and threatened to crack it.
“I have to arrange his memorial service. It has to be me doing the hard stuff... he laid everything out in his will, why couldn't he have allowed for that too? I just want this to be over, I want to get this place up and running for one more year and then sell it. I can't stay here, I can't do it. But you still have your job for the winter, of course. At least your job is safe. You don't have to start until the end of next week – at least you get a few days off!”
He laughed even though tears filled his eyes and she felt utterly bewildered. She didn't doubt he was in shock and grieving for the best friend he deeply missed. It was clear their business relationship had not always been great, but losing Drake had put Owen in absolute misery.
“Are you sure it was natural causes?”
He looked at her sharply.
“I just said so. Why would anyone want to kill Drake? The museum was his life!”
“I didn't mean to upset you I was just wondering, he must have known a few people in his lifetime, did he have any enemies?”
“No,” Owen said firmly, “Everyone loved Drake. So did I, Cherry! I loved him like a brother!”
“But you called him a prick at the interview, I heard you say it!”
Anger blazed in his eyes along with a swirl of deepest grief and she wasn't sure if she ought to apologise or get up and head for the door, but then he spoke up, making his feelings clear.
“I get why you would think he wasn't my favourite person but you're wrong! I had a separate investment go bad this year – I borrowed some company money for it. When I told him about it, he went up the wall over it! But it wasn't enough to wreck our friendship, we worked all that out, we laid it to rest and he said we would move on from it. He meant that. He was a good bloke, he was one of the best!”
“I know he was. I just want to be sure about why he died.”
“The hospital was very sure. They said he was clinically dead and turned off his life support. You have no idea what I've been through!”
“I'm sorry,” she said as she wiped a tear from her face, “I'm sorry he's gone and I'm sorry you lost him. We had a date tonight, he was going to take me to dinner...” her voice choked up as she sobbed, but then she pulled back from it, thinking of Drake and how happy he had seemed – he wouldn't have wanted either of them to be sitting here miserable and if holding herself together was all she could do for him now, she would do it.
Owen paused for a moment and then as he spoke again, his voice was hushed.
“At least he's coming back here. He had a contact in the funeral business, he was very interested in developments in embalming...he wanted to be preserved and displayed in a case in the entrance hall. I can't go against his final wish.”
Her eyes widened as she recalled Drake telling her about how he had wanted to be a part of the museum after his death.
“You're seriously going to go along with it?”
“It's in his will, it's very clear, I can't object anyway! He put a clause in it that if any co owner of the museum objects to his body being placed in the cabinet and kept on display, they lose their right to run the business and he's even laid out how he wants the place sold in that event. When I sell this pl
ace, it has to stay as it is – with his body in the case. He covered everything. He knew what he wanted to do.”
She tried to picture Drake, cold and dead and behind glass in the museum and a shiver ran down her spine.
“If you don't want to take the job now I'll understand,” Owen added.
“No,” she replied, “I still want the job. I want to do it for Drake.”
He nodded.
“If you're sure.”
“I am sure.”
He got up and took his glass over to the drinks cabinet.
“Would you like a drink? I'm having another one. I think we could all use something strong tonight.”
“No,”she replied, rising from her seat, “I'll go now. I'll be back in a few days to start work. Just call me or send an email when you're ready. By the way, when is the memorial service?”
He looked totally bewildered as he shook his head.
“I don't know, I haven't arranged the bloody thing yet! He covered everything else, why didn't he do that too?”
She felt awkward.
“Because he's too dead to organise it himself, perhaps?”
“Sorry...I didn't mean to sound so selfish.”
“I'd better go now,” she replied, then she turned away, feeling deep sadness and an ache in her heart, a sense of loss for all that could have been and now never would be, but her emotions were not just centred on Drake's loss – in that moment, when he had said that about the memorial service like it was a mere inconvenience, she had wanted to slap Drake's business partner. But grief could do strange things and it was clear Owen Stokes was devastated at the loss of his closest friend...
Cherry didn't feel the cold on the way home, not even when the weather delayed the bus by twenty minutes. She barely noticed the ride home or how many times the bus stopped to let in freezing air and thick flakes of snow as more passengers got on. The walk home was as silent as the falling snow, her boots were sinking thicker into it now but there was no sense of joy at what could be a white Christmas if the snow lingered – she saw his face in her mind, recalled his smile and his voice and thought of the meeting set for that night that would never happen now. Perhaps he had been the one for her, and now he was gone. The place in her heart that had felt so warm for Drake now felt empty and cracked with grief.
