A wave of alarm hit Carla. “Gran?” she said, thinking how Lucinda had tried to hide her hospital letter. She shouted it even louder. “Gran?” Her knees threatened to give way as she looked frantically around her. Aaron took her arm to help prop her up.

Carla struggled to focus on individual faces, wanting only to see Lucinda’s gray hair and olive eyes. When she spotted an extravagant plume of black feathers heading in her direction, she sidestepped her way around a group of her cousins. “What’s happened?” she asked Mimi, panic continuing to bubble up inside her. “Where’s Gran?”

Mimi dabbed a tear from her eye with a gray lace handkerchief. She was dressed in a black satin Victorian-style dress that reached the floor. “Oh, darling. Lucinda went to the hospital and...and...” She stumbled over her words and hung her head.

Carla gripped Aaron’s shoulder to steady herself. “Oh god, no.”

He was solid beside her. “I’m so sorry,” he said under his breath.

Someone took hold of Mimi’s arm and tugged her away before Carla could ask her anything else.

She screwed her eyes shut, praying this wasn’t really happening. People all around her were murmuring about hexes, bad luck and omens, their low whispers sounding like chants. Carla wanted to yell at them to shut up. She should never have left her gran, shouldn’t have gone chasing around overseas, should never have doubted her and Tom. Her tears came thick and fast, streaming down her face and wetting the ends of her hair.

Her relatives swarmed around the lawn until Carla saw the crowd part, letting someone through. Carla stared at the ground, overwhelmed by sorrow. But then she saw a small flash of color. A pair of shoes grew closer, and she could make out that they were embroidered moccasins. Carla’s gaze crept tentatively up the person’s body, taking in their generous curves and a paisley headscarf. She almost crumpled to her hands and knees when she saw her gran standing before her.

Carla let out a gasp of relief and her tears fell even harder. “Gran.”

“Thank goodness you’re here, honey,” Lucinda said, circling her arms around Carla’s back and holding her tightly. “I’ve just got back from the hospital.”

Carla held her tightly, too, burying her face into her shoulder. “Are you okay? I thought that you’d...gone.”

She stopped when she saw Mimi heading back toward them. “Sorry I was whisked away, darling,” she said. “I was going to tell you that Lucinda has been at the hospital with Jess and Evelyn.” She swallowed and pressed a hand to her neck.

Carla looked all around her again, this time trying to locate her sister. There was still a sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. “Why? What’s happened? Why is everyone wearing black?”

“It’s all so absolutely dreadful,” Mimi said. “Bertrand and Evelyn were at the library yesterday afternoon, choosing books together. They were discussing their next knitting project when he complained about feeling dizzy. Evelyn made sure he sat down and went to get him a glass of water. It only took a couple of minutes, but she returned to find him slumped forward at the table. Evelyn yelled for help, but it was too late. Bertrand had already passed. Evelyn is beside herself, absolutely devastated. We all are. Our family curse has claimed yet another—”

Carla raised a palm to stop Mimi’s next words. “Please don’t say that,” she said firmly.

Mimi pressed her scarlet lips together and nodded. “Jess is with Evelyn at the funeral home right now, talking about arrangements.”

“Evelyn insisted on doing it straightaway,” Lucinda told Carla. “Bertrand didn’t have any other family she’s aware of and Evelyn wants to keep busy. Our extended family has turned up to help.” She paused and glanced over at Aaron, who was talking to one of Carla’s cousins. “What’s he doing here?”

“Don’t worry, he’s with me,” Carla said. “We traveled back from Paris together and were pulling up in a taxi when we saw a crowd.”

Lucinda raised a questioning eyebrow. “Paris?”

“It’s okay, Gran. Everything’s fine. Aaron’s actually been really helpful. I’ll tell you more about it later.”

Carla walked with her gran into the living room, followed by Aaron, who accompanied Mimi. More of her family members had gathered, and she saw many aunts and cousins, some relatives she didn’t recognize, some she did recognize but couldn’t quite remember their names. Their black clothes and hunched shoulders reminded her of a murder of crows.

Her eyes narrowed when she spotted Myrtle sitting in the corner of the room. The fortune teller wore her black velour tracksuit, silver running shoes and winged eyeliner, and her violet eyes swept across the room, as if taking in every detail.

Carla’s first instinct was to stride over and demand that Myrtle explain the tarot cards and the prediction she’d made that had almost destroyed her impending marriage. Instead, she spun around and forced herself to go into the kitchen, knowing it wasn’t the right time or place for any kind of showdown. She helped her gran and Mimi make cups of tea and took out her anger by hacking crusts off ham sandwiches.

Although the bungalow was full of sorrowful women, Aaron said he’d stay. He helped to press hot beverages and plates of sandwiches into shaky hands, and Carla overheard him commiserating and uttering soothing words.

As the sky grew darker outside and the rooms in the bungalow became dimmer, the front door opened and Evelyn staggered in, propped up by Jess. Evelyn’s cheeks were hollow and her eyes circled with mauve. When she saw everyone waiting for her, her body started to cave in on itself.

She was instantly surrounded and embraced by her family. Carla watched as this marvelous array of ladies acted like foot soldiers, coming together to do battle. Fingers caressed Evelyn’s arms and hair, and the number of women saying sorry together sounded like a song. They led Evelyn to the sofa, where a pile of cushions and blankets awaited, urging her to drink, eat and rest. Mimi sat down beside her sister, their foreheads pressed together as they shared the grief.

It was then that Carla spotted Jess standing in the corner of the living room, seeming so small, with her bottom lip trembling. She looked exactly the same as she did when their mother had died. Overcome with a sense of empathy and responsibility, Carla attempted to weave her way across the room to comfort her sister. However, in the few seconds it took, Jess was gone. Carla searched room after room for her sister but couldn’t find her anywhere.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to find Aaron wearing a caring smile. “I overheard Jess saying she needed some time alone,” he said. “Evelyn’s gone to lie down, too.”

Carla nodded at him, grateful for his update and presence.

Later on that evening, Mimi wore a pair of black rubber gloves to wash the pots. “Oh, darling, it’s all so terribly tragic,” she said, her elaborate paste earrings swinging as Carla joined her at the sink. “I spoke to Evelyn earlier and it transpires that Bertrand had an existing medical condition, a small hole in his heart that he’d only just told her about. She says he was such a kind person, he didn’t want to worry her with it. Evelyn had waited her whole life to find her soulmate and then he was gone in the blink of an eye.”

Carla thought about Evelyn’s glow when she’d spoken about carving initials into a candle. It was one of the few times she’d seen her aunt truly happy. Lars and Agatha might have found a way to outrun the family curse, but poor Evelyn and Bertrand hadn’t managed to, and now the legend would become even more ingrained in the family history. The dark rain cloud hanging over her and Tom’s wedding day had turned into a downpour, and her heart sank when she thought about telling him her aunt’s bad news.

“Carla, darling. I need to speak to you about something very delicate,” Mimi said, dropping her voice to a hush and removing her gloves. She placed them on the side of the sink and let her hand rest on top of them. “Evelyn told me about the funeral arrangements and apparently the next available date is the first of June, in the afternoon.”

Carla nodded, not really taking this in. Then the words appeared to shift, collide and boom in her head. Her mouth fell open and she let a cup clatter into the sink. She didn’t notice as the china cracked and broke in two. “But that’s my wedding day,” she said in disbelief.

Mimi pursed her lips. “Evelyn was in such a state, she agreed to the date without realizing it. Jess was waiting for her outside the room, so didn’t pick up on it. I phoned the funeral folk and asked for an alternative date, but the next one available is a whole week later. I can ask Evelyn if she’s willing to wait, but she’s been destroyed by all this...” She let out a mournful sigh.

Carla wiped her hands on a towel, rubbing between each of her fingers. All the omens were stacking up against her wedding and it was easy to believe it really was jinxed. If she and Tom went ahead with their ceremony, it couldn’t be a joyous occasion with Bertrand’s funeral taking place on the same day. Even if they postponed his funeral until after her wedding, there would be a sense of foreboding hanging over her big day. She couldn’t possibly ask Evelyn to move Bertrand’s funeral date on her own behalf. Carla pressed a hand to her stomach and leaned on the kitchen countertop.

“Are you okay, darling?” Mimi asked. “Sorry to press you, but is the funeral date okay?”

Carla felt like the universe was spinning around her and she started to feel queasy. Her trip overseas had set a string of events in motion that would never have happened if she’d stayed in England. How could she refuse her aunt the funeral date she’d already agreed to? “Yes,” she managed to whisper. “It’s okay.”

“Thank you, darling.” Mimi said, wrapping an arm around her. “I truly am sorry.”

Carla heard a familiar voice cackling in the living room and glanced through a gap in the door. She saw Myrtle holding up a cup to read someone’s tea leaves. “Myrtle,” Carla seethed aloud, her eyes becoming slits. Everything had started with her.

The fortune teller somehow seemed to know she was being observed and threw a stare back in Carla’s direction.

Mimi looked at the two women in turn. “Um, is everything okay between you and Myrtle, darling?” she asked hesitantly.

“No,” Carla said. “Did Myrtle tell Evelyn anything about her future during her tarot reading? Did she predict something bad might happen?”

Mimi gulped. “I’m not sure. I know I like to tell everyone the story of a curse, but we can’t be absolutely sure it claimed poor Bertrand. Myrtle might be the only custodian of the truth.”

Carla’s phone suddenly pinged with a text that rang through the air. Several heads instantly pivoted in her direction. “Sorry,” she mumbled and took it from her pocket, quickly changing the settings to silent. The message was from Anastacia in Amsterdam.

I’ve explored the library archive extensively and haven’t found anything else with regard to Lars and Agatha. I found evidence that Isabelle had a daughter, Eva, who died a decade ago.

Carla sent her a quick thank-you for the information, planning to call Anastacia back at a more convenient time. She felt a hand gently squeeze her shoulder and turned to see Aaron standing beside her. “I should go find a hotel for the night,” he said.

She’d quite forgotten he was still here and tore her thoughts away from Anastacia and Myrtle. “Thanks for staying around and supporting me. You’ve been brilliant.”

“Anytime,” he said with a tired smile. “I hope Evelyn’s okay and that things go well with Tom.” He opened his mouth to add something else, then thought better of it. “I’ll say goodbye to your gran on my way out. Take care.” He gave her a hug and kissed her on the cheek.

Carla nodded numbly. She watched Aaron’s back as he left the room, dealing out embraces and kisses as he went, and she couldn’t help thinking that after all this time, he still felt like part of the family.

Twenty-Nine