“We’re going to be parents,” Carla interrupted, her heart racing. “That surpasses everything. We know how we feel about each other...” She let her words peter out, knowing her efforts were futile, at least for now. In time, she hoped Tom would be as delighted and excited as she was, because his current response made it feel like a pebble was lodged in her throat. If he didn’t want the baby—and if he didn’t want her—it would prove Myrtle had been right all along. The family curse would win. Again.

But there was nothing she could do or say right now. Tom had to make up his own mind, and she had to let fate take its own path, for once.

Carla said goodbye to him, hung up and then defiantly tied her hair into a ponytail.

Looking down at the gentle dome of her belly, she spoke to it, just as she’d done with Jess. “Hello, you,” she whispered. “I know things are a bit messy right now, but don’t worry, because we’ll figure everything out. You’ve already traveled with me to Spain, Portugal and Amsterdam, so I think you’re a tough little thing. Though I must warn you, our family isn’t exactly ‘normal.’ They’ll probably shower you with four-leaf clovers and hope you’re born under a full moon, but they’ll also love you more than anything, just like I will. Just like your father will, too.” She closed her eyes, hoping, praying. “Whatever happens, we’ll be fine. I promise.”

As she left her bedroom to go find Babs again, Carla realized she’d crossed her fingers so tightly her knuckles had turned white.

Twenty-One

Window

Carla sat at the kitchen table with Babs the next day, resting her chin glumly on her fist. Everything she knew and loved seemed to be breaking apart and floating around her, out of her reach. Her midriff felt taut, and her emotions were tidal. One moment, she felt so full of energy she could run a marathon, and the next, she had the motivation of a dishcloth. It was difficult to tell if her lethargy was due to the heat in Spain, hormonal changes or from Tom’s lackluster reaction to her pregnancy news. She felt like her family curse was hitting home, and questions about their suitability only continued to abound. Her voice shook when she asked Babs, “What if Tom doesn’t want to get married any longer?”

Babs sat painting her nails lilac. “You can’t force that decision and you’ve thrown the guy a curveball. He’ll need time to let things sink in,” she said.

“Tom told me he’s never wanted children and he sounded so resolute about it, like there was no way he’ll change his mind.”

“He might adapt. I’ve always wanted kids, but I had to accept it wasn’t going to happen. It sounds like Tom’s experiencing my circumstances in reverse.”

Babs’s reasoning didn’t do much to stop Carla’s upset from morphing into anger throughout the day. She stomped around the farmhouse, drinking water to prevent another fainting spell, and ate the fresh food Diego had stocked in the fridge.

Babs spent a couple of hours on her phone before reporting back to Carla that she was going to return to Blanca del Mar, where she could keep an eye on the renovation work starting on her bar. A friend had returned from holiday and Babs was going to stay with her for a while. “It’s too remote for me here, but I’ll stay as long as you want to,” she added. “Have you decided where you’re going to next?”

Carla shook her head. She didn’t want to keep checking her phone for calls or messages from Tom, but the screen was like a magnet to her.

“Do you want me to hide it from you?” Babs reached out her hand to take it.

Carla clutched the device to her chest and shook her head, feeling like a toddler about to have her favorite toy removed.

“You need to relax and forget about Tom for a while. Do something to keep busy.”

It was easier said than done, and Carla jumped to attention when her phone vibrated in her hands. She caught her breath and prepared herself to see her fiancé’s name on the screen, but it was Jess’s instead. Her spirits plunged and she carried the phone to her room, positioning it on the dressing table while she sat on the bed.

“Gran thinks we should both grow up and make amends,” her sister said gruffly on Facetime. Her lips were thin and tight, as if she had no choice in the matter.

“She’s probably right,” Carla admitted. “Where is she?”

“In bed, nursing a cold.”

“Is she okay?”

“Just a bit tired.”

“Are Mimi and Evelyn okay?”

“Yes, fine.”

Their conversation was so stilted that Carla let out a sigh. “Look, Jess,” she started. “I know we had words about the database, but I don’t want to fall out with you over it. How did your interview go?”

Jess fidgeted with her collar. “Really well. They offered me the job.”

Carla felt her stomach plummet even more. “Oh, Jess...” She took a moment to think. “I really don’t want you to leave.”

“It’s a bit late for that now. We’ve not been getting along. You don’t trust me at work, and this new company seems great—”

“Of course I trust you,” Carla interrupted, her face full of hurt.

“No, you don’t, not fully. Myrtle’s reading was a wakeup call that I’m thirty-four and need to move on with my life.” Jess looked away. “Anyway, I’ve been calling all the couples who matched during the twelve-month problem period, just like you asked me to. There’s been several separations but the overall success rate is pretty high and...” She trailed off. “Myrtle said I’d be working near water soon, and I saw the fountain in the courtyard. Omens do exist.”

Carla thought about magpies and tarot cards and the curse, and she nodded in agreement. “I’m starting to think they might, too.”

Jess closed one eye. “Did you really just say that?”

“I’ve had an eventful few days.”

Carla could tell Jess about the men she’d met and the places she’d visited, but that wouldn’t bring them close together again. It felt like she and her sister were on opposite ends of a swing bridge as it opened, and she had to find a way to jump over the gap, even if it meant revealing something that could severely impact Jess and her relationships, too. “I found out that Mum carried out some research into our family tree during her travels.”

Jess shrugged a shoulder. “And?”

Carla persevered. “I found out that Agatha, our ancestor, was engaged to a man called Lars.”

Jess’s face remained unimpressed.

“He did die at the altar before they married, because I read about it in an old newspaper article,” Carla said, hesitating before adding her big reveal. “It also stated a curse really was cast on our family.”

This time Jess wriggled herself upright. “Are you making this up?”

“No. I’m the realist, remember? The one who doesn’t believe in fairy tales. But I saw this with my own eyes.” Carla located the photo and article on her phone and sent them to her sister.

Jess waited for the image to load. “Wow, Lars and Agatha look so young and gorgeous,” she said.

“That’s what I thought, too.”

“I guess I always believed in the story of a curse without thinking how it really played out,” Jess pondered aloud. “It seems kind of awful that Lars was only twenty-eight. That Isabelle Roelof woman was a witch in all senses of the word.”

“It makes me wonder what happened to Agatha, if she ever found love again,” Carla mused. “I don’t suppose there’s any way we can find out.”

The two sisters both swept their hair back off their forehead at the same time. Then they noticed and twitched a smile at each other.

“I’ve missed you,” Carla said softly.

Jess worked her lips, not finding a response. “I’ve got something to tell you, too. Bertrand has asked for Mimi and Gran’s blessing for him to propose to Evelyn. Of course, they said yes. He’s going to wait until after your wedding day to pop the question, so he doesn’t steal your thunder. He’s such a cutie.”

“That’s fantastic, great news. Yes, he does seem very sweet.” The words wedding day made something catch in Carla’s throat, and tears welled in her eyes.

“What’s up?” Jess frowned. “I thought you’d be pleased.”