“Maybe another time.” As in never. Antonia’s entire life had been based on science and logic and the notion of a curse was preposterous. Yes, she knew her aunts made remedies and teas, and that her aunt Gillian believed in amulets and enchantments, but they certainly didn’t call down curses and deal with the Black Art. Antonia slipped the key into her purse, where it fell among other items she would likely never use: throat lozenges, paper clips, pens that no longer worked. Her hand still felt oddly hot and she found she was quite dizzy, which anyone in her condition might be. At this hour of the day she often had a snack to keep her energy up. “Do you have any fruit?” she asked.
“Of course.” There were some plums and bananas in a ceramic bowl, which the attorney offered Antonia. “I’m sure the curse is just a story.” Ariel laughed. “I mean, do you feel cursed?” Their eyes met then. Big mistake.
Antonia devoured a plum, but she was still starving. She was shaking as a matter of fact.
“Do you want me to order sandwiches?” Ariel asked. “There’s a place around the corner.”
“Yes.” Antonia no longer had the urge to leave. “Cheese is fine. No mayonnaise. No mustard. Lettuce, but make sure they wash it and double the tomatoes. Pickles would be great.”
“Perfect,” Ariel Hardy said, although she didn’t move to make the call.
The baby kicked Antonia without warning, swiftly bringing her back to the here and now. The Reverend was right. You didn’t know if you had the ability for some things until they happened to you. You could surprise yourself with what emerged from inside yourself. It now occurred to Antonia that perhaps she herself was the woman in her dreams who was drowning, the figure with red hair, her white blouse floating out all around her, going under fast. Antonia sat back in the leather chair, her head swimming, her carefully planned future utterly disrupted. She made certain to bite her tongue. She was usually too quick to give her opinions and now it seemed as if it might be best for her to be quiet for once in her life. Everything was the same and everything was different. It was then she knew what her current situation was. This is what happened when you fell in love.
IV.
The professor’s office was in Notting Hill, just off Westbourne Grove, at the end of Rosehart Mews. It was easy enough to miss, and meant to be so, as Ian Wright didn’t wish to be disturbed when he was writing, and he was always writing.
There was an indistinct pentagram formed of gray bricks set into the cobblestone, but the image was faded and the stones were old. Anyone who didn’t take careful notice could easily miss the address, for there was no number marking it, only the faint star that disappeared on those rare occasions when snow drifted down, but which stood out in the rain, for it was darker when wet, gleaming and nearly black. Sally spotted the sign in the window right away, but of course she was looking for it. Control and removal of black magic.
The front door, painted black, opened from left to right. There were bells above the threshold, but they were rusted and the jangle they made was more of a cough than a chime. It was just Sally’s luck to be the one who must beg for assistance, exposing her broken heart to a stranger. They’d begun the afternoon in London at the pub at the crossroads, a cozy place called the White Bull. Franny had insisted they draw straws to decide who would approach the professor. The Owenses were no good at asking for help, it was not in their nature, and no one wanted the task of seeking it out. Sally had won the draw, which, in her opinion, meant she had lost. She was frustrated, but it was fate that she should be the chosen one. Her daughter was missing and it was her responsibility to find Kylie. She had no choice and set off for the mews, despite her anxiety about approaching an alleged expert on left-handed magic.
“You made that happen,” Vincent declared to his sister once Sally had gone.
Gillian had gone up to the bar to order sandwiches and drinks and was out of earshot. The pouring rain outside had stopped, but everything was damp, the streets flooding with murky puddles. The usually busy neighborhood was all but deserted as it was just past the lunch hour. People had taken shelter and stayed where they were in case another round of rain struck, as was predicted. So much the better in order to pick up one another’s thoughts. Vincent grinned. He had distinctly sensed a silent incantation for luck emanating from Franny’s direction when it had been Sally’s turn to pluck a straw. He’d seen his sister’s lips move as she whispered, and he’d known Sally would choose the short stick.