You Let Me In - Camilla Bruce Page 0,57
found him at my door at the lilac house, red-cheeked and ruffled, pale hair a mess. The navy-blue tie with little golf clubs on it hung like a deflated balloon down his chest. His blue sports jacket was unbuttoned.
This was nearly two years after Dr. Martin died. I was nearing my forties then, and looked the part, too. Ferdinand, though, had aged more. He looked as if he were closing in on fifty, with gray temples and sagging skin. I don’t know how long he had looked like that before he came to see me.
Maybe it was all that worrying that did it, all that tossing and turning at night. I was unprepared for his visit—any visit—and remember I felt a jolt of anxiety myself when I heard his car park outside.
“You have to help me,” he said when I opened the door. I had thrown on a satin robe over my pajamas. It was way past noon, but you know what it’s like, us eccentrics like to lounge about and eat croissants for breakfast.
“Ferdinand, what is it? What has happened, is it Mother?” That was my first thought, that the old witch had finally keeled over, the heart of ice shattering in her chest.
He shook his head, looking miserable, biting his lips, flexing his fists. “No,” he said in a thin voice, “it’s worse.”
“Come on in, then.” I opened the door for him. He staggered as if drunk, but he didn’t smell like alcohol. I placed him by the kitchen table and poured coffee in large pink mugs. Then I sat down across from him, wondered if I should take his hand and then decided to let it be, it would simply be too awkward. Instead, I just sat there and waited for him to speak.
He seemed a little calmer then, cradling his cup, blowing on his coffee, but the eyes he turned to look at me were pained. “I think I’m losing it, Cassie. I’m really losing it.”
“What has happened?” I curbed another impulse to touch him. “Why are you so upset? Did Mother do something to you? Did he?”
“No … no, nothing like that. It’s in my mind, Cassie, it’s my mind…”
“Tell me.” A surge of worry began to grind in the pit of my stomach. This didn’t bode well. Not well at all.
He gathered his wits enough to raise his gaze and meet mine. “I always thought you innocent, you know.”
“I know that,” I said, though I didn’t.
“No matter what they said, I never believed it was true. You are not a killer, Cassie. Never were.”
“Why are you bringing this up now?” The worry bloomed and ached.
Ferdinand removed his glasses, dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief. “It isn’t right,” he said weakly. “It isn’t right to see such things.”
I suddenly felt cold. “See what, Ferdinand? What did you see?”
“Nothing.” He turned his teary eyes up to look at me across the table. “Nothing for a while—”
“But you did, didn’t you? You did see something.” My heart was hammering fast in my chest.
His gaze started flickering, from the cupboards to the table and back again. “I don’t know what I saw.”
“Tell me, brother, maybe I know.” Suddenly it was the most important thing in the world to have him tell me. To confirm what I suspected.
“It was such a long time ago—”
“Back when we were children? Did you see him?”
“Yes. How could I ever forget that thing?”
Suddenly I was furious, wanted to smash my mug into the wall. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? Why didn’t you say anything?” Why hadn’t he supported me? Verified my stories? Then I felt sad for all the fear he had carried. I knew all too well what that was like.
“I told Father.” His gaze dropped. “I told Father, and I wish I never had … I never spoke of it again to anyone and after a while I stopped seeing … Then you moved away. But I think of it, often. That creature—his ghastly face looming—”
“Oh, Ferdinand.” Finally I touched him, lay my hand on his. His skin was cold and clammy. “What happened now? Did you see him again?”
He took a moment, shook his head and swallowed hard. “Last night, when I was playing the piano, something so strange happened. I had left the patio doors open to let the wind inside. I do that sometimes, so I can feel the night around me while I play.”
“And…?”
“Suddenly I got this feeling like someone was watching me, and when