by Yirak, Laura
Alesta waited a little intrigued at Judy’s distraction, “I’m sorry for everything that has happened. Patrick told me everything. I can’t begin to tell you how worried I was about it all and would perfectly understand if you didn’t want to work here anymore.”
That caught Judy’s attention, “What? Oh no, no. It’s fine. I’m fine.” She stopped and looked right at Alesta to reassure her.
“Are you sure? I mean, you almost drowned for Pete’s sake?”
“Yes, I feel much improved today. Patrick took very good care of me.”
“Good. I just have a few questions about it all. When did the dreams start with Ian?” Alesta asked.
“Maybe a few nights after I moved in, don’t really remember it was something like that.”
“And this has never happened to you before, anything like this?”
“No. Never.” Judy put went into the bathroom to do one last check of her hair and face, Alesta followed behind her. “The Father is here now?”
“Yes. He’s sleeping in my house, had a bit too much to drink.”
“So I heard. I’m glad he’s here, so we can take care of him.”
“Yes, feel free to do so while I’m asleep, I’ll leave the back unlocked. You sure you’re okay, you seem distracted?”
“It’s just my daughter, her moving here, but not to worry, definitely won’t keep me from work. I feel refreshed this morning, ready to do whatever!”
“I feel better about all this then. Claire will be here before lunch time, same as last weekend. All you have to do is take care of breakfast for the guests and she’ll handle the rest of the meals, but I do want you to help her serve, it can get quite busy at meal times.”
“Of course, of course! Right to work then. And don’t you worry about me.” Judy winked.
“Oh and any calls about the ball, just take a note for Patrick he’s handling it all. He’s asleep now on my couch, just let him wake up on his own. I’d appreciate that. Thank you Judy, but before I go I want you and your daughter to come to the ball. I’m having a seamstress come in the week, make sure she’s here! My treat!” Alesta said happily.
Judy thanked Alesta profusely, completely caught of guard by the special invite and called Cara as soon as Alesta left with the exciting news!
Chapter 10
Resisting was futile. After putting away the large delivery from Cannon’s Market, Judy couldn’t help but go over to Alesta’s house. The back door was unlocked as Alesta had said it would be. The kitchen looked empty and uninviting. Judy took it upon herself to step back out again and snip off some daffodils and bluebells that grew underneath the kitchen window, just a few, not enough to go noticed. She tried to press her tartan skirt down as the breeze tried to make her an immodest woman.
There were no vases to be found in the half empty cupboards and so she picked a tall plain glass and popped the fresh flowers into it arranging them in alternating colors. The yellows and blues looked simple but delightful on Alesta’s small kitchen table. It was just enough to brighten the place up and add a hint of spirit.
“There! Much better,” Judy said.
“Meow.”
“Mitsy! You like it too?”
“Meow.” Mitsy went over to her bowl and let Judy know it was empty, then walked over to the fridge.
“Well let me see. Smart kitty aren’t you.” Judy opened the fridge and poured some milk out into the dish and emptied the remainder of a can of cat food that still looked fresh into the other side. “Judy’s got you all taken care of.” Mitsy began to lap it all up.
The living room was quite stunning as Judy looked at all the modern, but ornate details. There was no Patrick sleeping on the red plush couch, just a crumpled cream blanket lying in a pile. Judy picked it up and folded it neatly and placed it on one of the side arms. The cream walls were decorated with many oil paintings, some of the loch, some of people. They were old and gave the room a feeling of character, not like the kitchen where you just wanted to leave.
“She’s got taste.” Judy looked down at Mitsy who with a full belly had decided to investigate the intruder. “And where’s the Patrick? Have you seen him?”
Mitsy just stood there looking like a cat.
“And the Father?” Judy asked, Mitsy then decided the intruder was uninteresting and scampered off.
Judy found the hallway and the stairs. She followed them up and peeked into the first bedroom, but it was empty. The next door down, the last door revealed what she had been looking for.
Father Mac Namara lay in a bundle on top of the bed, no covers, and shoes still on. Judy furrowed her brow at the scene especially when she noticed that he was not wearing his white collar. He looked just like any other fellow without it. A rank smell became more apparent to her as she neared the bed and noticed the waste bin was out of place. It had the odor of a wild night out. She picked it up, covering her nose with her forearm and carried the Father’s waste into Alesta’s bathroom, dumped it out, then rinsed it as best she could. Never had she taken care of a man in such a way, it was the sort of thing a mother did for sick children, but never her Priest. It was an unimaginable display of human frailty. But she shook away the silent insults. After all he had done for her, risking his life she owed him more than maybe she could repay. She owed him a little more forgiveness and a little less judgment.
“My lord,” she whispered.
There was a grumble from the bed.
She poked her head back out from the bathroom to see Father Mac Namara roll over into another pile, “Poor soul.”
He was still asleep and probably would be for a while. Judy wanted to at least make him more comfortable and brought up a fresh glass of water, which she placed at the bedside with the cream blanket placed over him. Next to the nightstand phone, she left the number to the Manor and her cell phone where she could be reached whenever he woke up, signed Judy Worth and to call her right away when he was ready.
It was back to the Manor and to prep lunch. Maybe Claire would be there; Judy wondered as she walked, Claire was already late, but then again Patrick had never mentioned a time of her arrival.
Patrick heard footsteps above and just placed himself in the corner of the wine cellar. He didn’t realize who it was till he heard Judy talking to the cat. It was perfect timing that she had to pick that particular moment to come over. He was already anxious as it was about going back to the underground.
The wine cellar was dusty as Patrick tried several times not to sneeze. When he heard the door close and Judy finally leave, he let out a sigh and got back to finding the secret door. He had been in such a hurry leaving the last time that he hadn’t paid close attention to the details of his escape.
Patrick knew which wall it was and picked up bottles here and there, inspecting the wall. It was closer to the corner that he noticed the small stone button hidden perfectly behind a bottle, exactly like the one on the other side that he had found before.
“Here it goes,” he said as he pressed it.
A small door opened with a heavy stone sliding sound and he squeezed through it. The door closed behind him after a few seconds. The hall was dimly lit, the darker passage to his left lead in a direction he already knew.
Doors lay on all sides of him as he took the straight path ahead. He kept going till he reached the very end, which was quite a long way. It was a dead end. There was nothing but stone and cobwebs.
“That’s it,” Patrick whispered, “A dead end.”
Maybe, he thought to himself, the other doors led somewhere. Maybe they weren’t all just storage rooms. With that idea Patrick opened the door next to him, the very last door.
The room was empty except for a large golden coffin sitting exactly in the middle on a black platform. The walls reflected a golden hue as the low light from the hallway flashed in before him. Patrick stepped closer to the coffin noticing all the small carved roses lining the edges. It was beautiful and delicate, and reminded him of Alesta for some odd reason. He k
new that roses where her favorite flower especially red ones, even though she never bought them.
A muffled sound came from the coffin as Patrick had leaned over to get a better look. He jumped back his heart in his throat. The silence was deafening as he stood away trying to discern any audible noise. Another bump came again. This time Patrick moved closer to the door but still facing the coffin. He couldn’t look away, somehow he felt caught, trapped.
This feeling was just a warning as the coffin room door shut behind him and with it all the light left to leave him standing in the pitch black. He turned and tried to desperately open it, but couldn’t. It was stuck and he couldn’t see a thing. He stood facing the door holding the handle and pulling with all that he had as he heard the coffin lid slide open. Patrick froze at the slick sound. It echoed.
Alesta sat up and saw the impostor by the door, in quick response she jumped into the air and crash landed on the target, pressed it to the ground face down, and sunk her fangs into the back of its neck and drank fresh hot blood.
Oddly enough as she curled her hands around the imposters head they brushed up against some stitches.
She pulled away in surprise, “Patrick!”
“Alesta,” he whispered, feeling the effects of a vampire bite, which were both that of pleasure and pain. “What are you doing to me?”
“Patrick! Oh…..no. I didn’t know it was you…..What are you doing down here? How did you get in here?”
Patrick rolled onto his back relaxing every inch of him, “Oh I found this place earlier in the week, thought I’d explore a bit more….through the pantry way.” He said it as if he had not a care in the world.
“You shouldn’t be down here. I’m so sorry. I never would have if I’d known. I can’t believe it.” Alesta went over to check on the Count and motioned him to stay in the coffin.
“So what are you anyway? A vampire? All those coffins, this one, now you bite me or something, at least that’s what it felt like,” Patrick asked in the same oblivious tone.
“Yes I am.” And with a click of her fingers the room lit lightly as a candle in each corner of the room flickered on.
“Magic,” he said, “That explains everything…..Sleeping all day, never eating……” He let out a sigh, “I don’t believe in vampires.”
The effect was beginning to wear off a little, so Patrick sat up in his kilt and white shirt from the day before and took a good look at Alesta. There was a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth, she tried to wipe it away, but it just smeared. It was his blood. She knelt wearing a long black silk gown. It was more exposed than he’d ever seen her. Her skin was pearlescent; every curve was accentuated by the lingerie. Her arms were slender but toned; her long smooth hair even looked blacker. His eyes followed the line up stopping on her little sharp fangs which rested on her bottom lip. She tried to wipe away the blood again not succeeding.
“I am a vampire,” she repeated. “I didn’t intend on you finding out like this.”
It was beginning to sink in a little more as Patrick stared, “Ghosts, vampires, what else? I think I better go.”
“Patrick, please forgive me for not telling you before. I didn’t……”
“Alesta don’t…..I can’t even begin to understand all this, you, Ian, all of it, whatever else there is. I just need to…..well I don’t even know.” He stood up and she just sat there looking up at him with endearing eyes.
“You know the way out?” Alesta said.
“Aye.”
She watched him go, her face with a look of shock.
The long stone hall was much more now, not just a dead end, but the beginning to a new world in which Patrick was not familiar with. He took a long look back before he left.
The kitchen was a total disaster as Judy poked her head in. It was amazing how quickly Claire had turned the place upside down, but whatever she was doing the smell was divine.
“Good morning Claire!” Judy said.
Claire turned, her bright red bob cut staying perfectly in place, “I never heard you come in. You scared me.”
Judy amused said, “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to. Did you get your hair done?”
“Yesterday. I had them brighten up the color a bit.” Claire was rolling some sort of pastry dough with flour clouding around her, sleeves folded up.
A good cook always makes a big mess. The saying was true and Judy knew well, maybe she could learn a thing or two from Claire, even though she was as young as her daughter.
“I bumped into Cara this morning at the Gossip Cup.” Claire stirred some meat that was in a pot on the stove and added a few spices in.
“Yes, she’s all moved into her flat.”
“So she said. She looks good, cut all her hair.”
“Aye, it’s the fashion,” Judy said. “Are you going to the ball?”
“Ball, no, don’t know anything about that.” Claire was too focused on the task at hand to seem that interested.
“Yes, Alesta’s ball, she invited Cara and me, going to have some gowns made for us too.” Judy wanted to rub it in a little.
Claire turned her head in curiosity, but then back again to the stew, “Oh delightful!” her tone was convincing, but she held on to a bit of jealousy.
Why had Alesta asked them to the ball and not her? Claire stirred the meat a little quicker, stewing as it did.
“We’re very excited about it. Cara will be over during the week for the fitting. I’ve never been fitted for anything before.” Judy started to day dream about it, picturing a scene with dancing and flowers, giggling and twirling. “It’s like going to an expensive wedding, where all the dresses have to made to fit, and all the colors hand picked with fabrics and…..”
Claire cut her off, “Can you pass me the salt, the shaker needs a refill. It’s in the pantry.”
“I’ve never been to such a wedding, but I always dreamt of one.”
“Oh can you refill it for me, I’ve got to cut the dough.”
“What are you planning?”
“Beef Wellington.”
“For breakfast?”
“No, just doing the prep now, I already served breakfast.”
“What?” Judy was confused, “But…..”
“I don’t know where you were, but I already took some stuff up to some of the guests. Don’t worry I recorded it all up in the dining book up front. Do you how to put it into the computer?” Claire asked with a hint of sarcasm.
“Yes, yes I do.” Judy took the hint and went up front.
The book was open on the desk. How had Claire done all of that so quickly and prepped all that food? She hadn’t been gone that long, Judy wondered. The girl, though annoying, had some talent. Judy was slightly worried. If Claire could do all that, then why had Alesta even hired her in the first place?
The computer ticked on and Judy entered in all the data.
“Good morning!” A voice said.
It was Allister.
“Hello there. How may I help you?” Judy asked.
“Tell the Cook that breakfast was brilliant. That’s all and I’m going out if you could please have my suits dry cleaned for me, they’re to the left in the closet.”
“Yes, Mr. Abernethy.”
“Great. Any messages for me?”
“No Mr. Abernethy.”
“My taxi’s here, cheerio then.” Allister was brief, but Judy was glad, distractions while on the computer could lead to a mistake on her part and maybe she’d give Claire the thanks but probably not.
Patrick rolled in after Allister with a look on his face that was heavy.
“Patrick? Hello! What’s the matter?”
Patrick continued up the stairs, “Nothing Judy, just got to get to class.”
“Have a good day Patrick,” she called after him, but he ignored her.
The instructor’s words were subdued. Patrick tuned in here and there; the words on the projected screen just looked a little hazy sometimes as the instructor clicked over the power
point slides. He had flipped his blue collar up to cover his neck wound. Surprisingly it didn’t hurt. The truth about Alesta consumed him, the image of her sitting before him, feeling her press him to the ground. She’d felt so heavy for such a neat frame. The desire to perish in pleasure was a new one for him. He’d suffered every emotion on the train ride to campus, anger, fear, love and all the shades in between.
Patrick glanced about him, all the people living in normalcy. It was a state he could never return to, but he had made the choice to go places where he knew he wasn’t supposed to. He returned knowing that permission had not been given. It was his fault. As this pained love consumed him, so did finding the truth about the object of it. He clenched his hands.
Just as quickly as he’d sat down, everyone around him was bustling away, gathering their lap tops, bags and rain gear. He remained even after the instructor had long gone. Usually he went for lunch in-between classes but he wasn’t in the mood for it. What he wanted was more of Alesta, more of that feeling, the thrill, the intimacy, to touch her, kiss her, all of it and more. He was in love with a vampire. Then and there in his own mind he asked himself if he could forgive her. How could she have told him anyway, he reasoned, as he had stated to her, he didn’t believe in that sort of thing. The secret would remain for he did care for her and though he was still in shock at the whole scenario he would protect her truth.
The next class was shorter. Patrick paid more attention than first one. The issue at hand had partially been resolved with one question lingering. Who was Nicholas? He was more than a friend that Patrick could figure out easily. As he scribbled notes down on his handout he thought back to how they had looked at each other and how they had held hands. He must be a vampire too, Patrick figured. There was a mystique about the man, a charisma.
After the class was over Patrick got a tea to go and made his way back to the train station. The station wasn’t as busy as it had been earlier; most of its users were at work in the city. The rhythmic sound of the train ride back to Alexandria soothed him as it had only irritated him on the way to university. The walk after felt refreshing and as he neared the oval drive in front of the Manor, he stopped and really looked at the place. It took on a different face, not one that was proverbial, but one that gave him a notion of unpredictability. Under all that complicated ivy was his home.