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
Flowers
Carla returned to her own flat and shivered in the chilly hallway as she lugged her backpack through the front door. Compared to the heat and color of the last couple of weeks, the space felt cramped, subdued and uninspiring, as if she’d left a brighter version of herself behind overseas. There were boxes of her things all around, packed and ready to go, waiting for her and Tom to begin their new life together in a new home.
Her phone buzzed and she saw a message from Aaron saying that he’d booked a hotel in Manchester for several days. She felt grateful he was sticking around for a while.
Taking a deep breath, Carla dialed Tom’s number. When it went to voicemail, she left him a message, informing him of Evelyn’s loss. She omitted any mention of the funeral date, deciding it was best to tell him in person. His words echoed in her head yet again. No further drama or complications. How on earth could she tell him their wedding day couldn’t take place unless they shared it with Bertrand’s funeral? All her relatives would think her marriage was jinxed, and she could see why.
I’m so sorry to hear about your aunt. Are you okay? Tom replied in a text. I’ll call you back when I can get a better signal. I’ll see if I can get home any sooner x.
Carla felt too weak and sad to summon a response. It felt like the wrong time to ask how he was feeling about their baby, so she placed her phone back down.
Tears pricked her eyes as she unpacked her backpack and stuffed the clothes into her washing machine. The leopard-skin print, tassels and bright garments Barbara had given her looked too frivolous to wear in England. But at the same time, the white blouses and black trousers hanging in her wardrobe no longer appealed to her. She stood in her underwear in the kitchen for a while, goose bumps covering her whole body, unsure of what to do next. Her limbs felt heavy and she moved only when a neighbor walked past her window.
In her bedroom, Carla pulled on her dressing gown and shoved her travel journal into a drawer in her wardrobe, out of sight. She didn’t think about the tarot cards remaining in her handbag.
Before she closed her wardrobe door, she caught sight of rhinestones glinting on her wedding dress. A cluster of subtle ones formed a rose to the left of the bodice and she choked back a sob as she unhooked the gown from the rail. The ivory silk stuck to her skin with static as she held it up to her chin.
She remembered spotting it in the vintage boutique’s window while shopping with her gran. “Do you really want to wear a secondhand dress?” Lucinda had asked. “What if the person who wore it before you had bad luck?”
