“It suits me well enough. I have my memories. And now this is resolved, I can put the bad ones firmly in a drawer, knowing Quintillus no longer controls any part of my life.”
“I would like to invite you to my niece’s wedding, as my personal guest. After all we’ve been through together, you feel like part of my family now. And, I suppose your possible relationship to my late aunt means you are.”
Tears sprang to Adeline’s eyes. She could think of nothing she would like more. To be part of this man’s family. “That is so kind of you, Markus. I shall be delighted to accept.”
“Then it is done. Consider yourself an honorary aunt of the von Dürnstein family.”
Adeline smiled, squeezed Markus’s hand and watched the sands of Egypt drift far below them.
* * * *
In the basement of the Königsberg House, a breeze wafted through. It shifted dust and ashes and swirled around. It stopped. The dust and debris settled. A woman stood over it.
“And now, Doctor, you and I can make our peace. One day you will need me to help you. Only I can get you what you want.”
The portrait shifted on the wall. A sigh echoed around the room.
The dust began to collect. Mesh together. Reform itself.
Arsinoe threw back her head and laughed.
Afterword
Lakeside Care Home, Wimbledon, London
August 1980
“My goodness. One hundred years old today. Cook’s baking a birthday cake for you.” The slender Jamaican Care Assistant smoothed Adeline’s sheets and tucked her in securely.
Adeline liked the girl. Jennifer. Always had a smile on her face, and exuded a pleasant aroma of oranges. Whether she ate a lot of them, or wore some kind of orange essence Adeline didn’t know, but it was a comforting, fresh smell. Such a welcome change from the all-too frequent mingling antiseptic aromas of disinfectant and bleach that tingled her nose and caught at the back of her throat. Still, far better that than…
Adeline settled herself back against her just-fluffed pillows. Jennifer could pummel a pillow into submission in seconds.
“Someone from the local paper is coming to take your photograph, while you hold the telegram from the Queen, and the other residents are all looking forward to your party.”
“Will there be champagne?” Adeline asked. She winked at the Care Assistant. “It’s not a celebration without champagne.”
Jennifer laughed. “Oh, I don’t know about that, but…” She tapped the side of her nose. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Adeline smiled. “You’re a good girl, Jennifer. Even if you do try and scare me with these daft magazines of yours.”
Jennifer laughed. “Oh, you know you like them really. Anyway, I wouldn’t have started bringing them in if you hadn’t told me about that haunted house in Vienna.”
And if I’d told you the real story about that house, you wouldn’t have found it so delicious.
“Oh, I nearly forgot,” Jennifer said. “Talking about that, I’ve brought in the latest Haunted House magazine and I’m not sure if it’s your house or not, but there’s one in there. A haunted mansion in Vienna. Someone took a photograph and this weird apparition… Hang on, I’ll go and get it for you. It’s really scary.”
Jennifer bustled out of the room.
Adeline heaved herself up into a sitting position. Arthritis, rheumatism, and now this damned osteoporosis made any movement painful and awkward. She winced. Dear Jennifer. Yet more photographic trickery no doubt. Of course, it wasn’t beyond the bounds of possibility that it could be the same house. Poor, dear Markus had died three years earlier, and the house had fallen into disrepair long before that. He’d tried to sell it, but too many people knew of its shady history. Goodness alone knew what state those wonderful Klimt paintings were in now.
Jennifer returned. “Hey, you should have waited. Let me help you.” She dropped the magazine on the bed and hurried to lift Adeline into a more comfortable position. She then sat down on a chair next to the bed and flicked through the pages until she found the article she wanted.
“Here we are.” She handed it to Adeline.
“I’ll need my glasses. The print’s all blurry.”
Jennifer handed them to her and she put them on. Instantly a recognizable house came into focus.
“The Horrifically Haunted Königsberg House of Vienna,” she read. “Typical lurid headline.” She smiled, but inside her an uncomfortable niggling feeling began. The more she read on, the more that unease grew.
The new owner of the Königsberg House in Vienna’s exclusive Hietzing district had the fright of her life when she was photographing her home prior to renovation. Down in the basement of the mansion she found a derelict room. She photographed it and when the picture was developed, a shadowy figure was revealed. You can see it on page 77.
Jennifer touched her hand “Mrs. Ogilvy? Are you all right? You’re trembling.”
Adeline raised her eyes. She must keep calm. “I’m not sure, Jennifer. I seem to be all thumbs today. Please could you find page seventy-seven for me?
“Of course.” Jennifer’s look of concern wasn’t lost on Adeline. “Here we are.”
She returned the magazine, open at the right page. The black and white quarter page photograph was grainy. But in amongst the room’s rubble and detritus, a familiar figure stood in one corner. Black, empty eye-sockets. On his head, a stovepipe hat.
The page swam in front of her. She dropped the magazine, her hands no longer able to hold it.
“Mrs. Ogilvy! Oh my God!” The sound of the emergency bell faded into the background. Adeline sank lower and lower into blackness.
* * * *
Jennifer’s lilting voice sidled into Adeline’s sleep and roused her. Over the past three weeks since her stroke, she had found it hard to stay awake for more than a couple of hours.
The Care Assistant had someone with her. “Such a shame,” she said. “Her stroke has left her pretty much paralyzed. She can’t speak and she can only move her left arm. But she can see and hear and when you look into her eyes you know her mind’s as alert as ever.”
Another woman spoke, but Adeline couldn’t make out the words. The stranger was speaking so quietly it barely registered as a whisper.
“Oh, I’m sure she’ll be delighted to see you. She often mentioned the old days. Her memory was as sharp as a scalpel. I miss hearing her stories. Of course, I was never sure if she had made them all up.”
If you only knew.
Jennifer’s voice moved closer and Adeline opened her eyes. The smiling face with the brilliant white teeth came into focus, along with her familiar comforting scent.
“Ah, you’re awake, Mrs. Ogilvy. I’ve brought someone to see you. She’s come ever such a long way. You’ll never believe it, but she lives in that house in the magazine you were reading. The one in Vienna…”
Adeline’s eyes opened wider.
Jennifer’s smile vanished, replaced in an instant by a quizzical expression. She stepped back, taking her scent of oranges with her. This time when she spoke, she sounded a little uncertain. “I’ll… leave you two alone for a bit… Give you a chance to chat.”
Adeline willed her mouth to open. Don’t leave me. But only her mind screamed the words.
A heavy aroma enveloped her. One she had hoped never to smell again. Lilies.
A woman’s face bent over her. Swam into focus. Olive skin. Black hair.
Violet eyes gazed down at her.
But that was impossible.
It couldn’t be…
Adeline closed her eyes and prayed.
Meet the Author
Following a varied career in sales, advertising and career guidance, Catherine Cavendish is now the full-time author of a number of paranormal, ghostly and Gothic horror novels, novellas and short stories. She was
the 2013 joint winner of the Samhain Gothic Horror Anthology Competition, with Linden Manor, which was featured in the anthology What Waits in the Shadows. Cat’s novels include The Pendle Curse, Saving Grace Devine, and Dark Avenging Angel. She lives with her long-suffering husband and black (trainee) cat. They divide their time between Liverpool and a 260-year-old haunted apartment in North Wales. Visit Cat’s website at catherinecavendish.com.
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