Free Shadows of the Past by Frances Housden Page A

need to get a surveyor in. I know someone…I’ll give him a call.”
    She couldn’t control the urge to rail at him. It burst out of nowhere. The words tumbled out as she leaned across the table toward her brother. “You talk so easily of dividing up the property, as if it was only a piece of land and not our home.”
    Her brother’s eyebrows rose as he gawped at her. “What’s with you? You don’t even live here anymore.”
    “Yes I do, but my work is in Auckland. I could be here—”
    “Enough!” Her mother had the last word. “Take no notice, Franc. Siblings, they argue about the littlest things and then bang, it is over. Why don’t you take Franc for a look at the vines tomorrow,” she said, her eye on Maria, and changed the subject neatly.
    Michel had to have the last word. “You always stick up for her, Mamma. She’s not a baby now.”
     

    For the first time, Franc saw a flash of real annoyance in Rosa’s eyes. “I think you’ve forgotten something, Michel. Wait till you and Sarah have a daughter.”
    Michel looked at his wife, who had to be at least six months pregnant with their first child. He touched his wife’s stomach as if for reassurance. “Sorry, Mamma. You’re right, I forgot. It’s been so long.”
    The chattiness took a nosedive and smiles gave way to frowns as Maria’s sister, Giovanna stod and began gathering up the coffee cups. Franc pulled Maria out into the hall away from the brooding silence as the others began clearing the table. “You feel okay? You’ve gone a bit pale.”
    “I’m all right, just tired. It’s late.”
    “Guess you won’t want to go outside for some air.”
    “No. I think I’ll go up and get ready for bed, but you go ahead, get some air, it’s a nice night. I’ll see you later.”
    Then he remembered the sight of her lace chemise and imagined the feel of satin and lace in his hands. “You going to wear something like that nightdress you shoved inside your drawer? It would look great on you, make your eyes look like pansies.”
    The compliment was worth it just to see the color return to her cheeks. “You flatter me, my eyes are plain brown. And whatever I wear to bed, you aren’t likely to see it.”
    “You can’t blame a man for trying.” He stopped at the foot of the stairs. Her hand was still in his and he lifted it to his mouth, rubbing his lips across her knuckles. “Sure you wouldn’t like me to come up and help you?”
    “In a word, no. ” She climbed the stairs in silence, and when she rounded the top, he saw her touch the back of her hand to her lips. She was thinking about him.
    It was enough for now.
     

    Maria’s eyes were closed. Tight. She refused to open them. Refused to look. If she didn’t look, maybe it would go away like the other nights when she’d had the dream. Nightmare.
    There was a spiked band around her head, pressing into her skull. Excruciating anguish forced tears from under her lids that cooled on the journey down her hot face. She was neither asleep nor awake, but somewhere in between, where the past met the present and she was part of both.
    A shudder ripped out of her soul as she broke the silence with her sobs. She could hear them, knew they were her own, no matter that the sound seemed to come from a distance.
    “Don’t dare to move,” said the voice that belonged to her past, present and future, for it never went away.
    She tried to lie still, but knowing that pain would follow the voice, her skin quivered with tension. She was a bowstring stretched too tight and ready to snap.
    The slow sting of cold steel caressed her breast with a lethal kiss.
    Her eyes snapped open.
    It was dark in her room. Dark as in that other place she wanted to forget. Managed to forget while she was still awake.
    The knife glinted as if a breeze had blown moonlight into her room. Blood dripped from its tip onto her breast then it sliced again and completed the sign of the cross.
    She screamed and sat up in