The Haunted Cottage in Cornwall

                                                Lady-Thriller by Ellen Gaber

"Samantha, what's wrong? Are you feeling all right?“ Worried, Martha tried to read in the face of her best friend.  "Jake goes to Australia for half a year !"
Samantha Brown put the wallet with the illustrations, which she had made for Martha's childrens book, on the desk and reached for a handkerchief.
  "Now sit down first and tell!" Martha urged her friend.
  "Why does Jake go away? Did you have a fight? "
Samantha sat down in the wicker chair in front of Martha`s large cluttered desk and wiped away a few tears.
  "A dispute? No, of course not. "

She stroked the red-blond curls from her delicate face. Here, a strange little birthmark before her right ear was visible. It had the shape of a curled snake.

Even today, Martha stared involuntarily on this extraordinary snake mark. Whether it had a deeper meaning? Was Samantha endowed with it by an inscrutable providence for a certain reason ?
  "Jake is to hold a series of lectures on his experiments with seed. Australian farmers have invited him. And even the universities are interested in it,"Samantha explained now.
  "A great opportunity for Jake to get ahead professionally. You do see that, Samantha?“
  "Yeah, sure. But we are only such a short time together. Will our love survive this long separation? "doubted Samantha.

"Look at it as a test of your relationship. If you pass it, you can get married, " the practical Martha advised.

She herself was a passionate spinster and could not imagine a man in her life. In her small publishing house she had enough to do and in her spare time, she was deeply involved with the mysterious, seemingly inexplicable things of the world of parapsychology.
  "You're right as usual and it always does well to talk to you," sighed Samantha.
  "Then let us now drink a strong black tea, while we are looking at your drawings ," suggested Martha and grabbed the folder that Samantha had brought.

When, after an afternoon tea, Samantha left the friend, she had a contract for a book illustration, that had to be completed in December and a cashier's check for a few hundred pounds in her pocket.

"Until December - it is still a long time," she thought as she stepped in front of the publishing building onto the busy street. For the time being it was the most beautiful summer weather, which was somewhat unusual for London. She made a few purchases for dinner at the small grocery store on the corner and then entered fully loaded the apartment house, where she lived since her mother's death.

On the stairs she met Helen her long-standing hall neighbor. Helen was about Samantha's age, always helpful, but unfortunately quite curious. In particular, she was interested in Samantha's relationship with the attractive Professor Jake Appleton. Samantha was quite reluctant when it came to Jake. Their love for each other was so new and therefore so fragile.

They had met each other in the bookstore, where Samantha worked. Jake, the attractive tall man with bright merry eyes, close-cropped dark blond hair, had asked her to find a picture book that he wanted to give his little nephew.

This moment a corpulent customer knocked over a couple of books from their stand and walked carelessly away.
Samantha bent down to pick up the books. Jake helped her. And when his long slender hands reached for the books, she had already fallen in love with him. Laughing, they restored the former order together.

Jake remained until the bookstore closed. He waited for Samantha, until she stepped into the street from the large glass door. And his face looked so daringly when he asked her to have a drink with him, that she could not say no and did not want to.

From then on, they saw each other every day.

And since that first meeting two months had passed. Inconceivable! Jake was already part of her live. Did he feel the same?
  "Hello, Samantha, how are you? Has your professor already flown into Kiwiland? "
  "He does not fly to New Zealand, but to Australia!"

Samantha's reply was a little harsh and promptly her face got somber again. She reached for her keys and had no desire to continue the conversation.
  "It is indeed quite as far away from London," Helen remarked sympathetically.

Just when Samantha unlocked the door of her cozy little two-room apartment, the phone rang. Her face brightened.
  "This is definitely Jake. Maybe he can still come for dinner before flying. "

The shopping bags ended up on the floor. She quickly picked up the phone handset.

„Am I speaking with Miss Samantha Brown?" an unknown female voice asked her..
  "Yes, I am Samantha Brown."
  "I'm calling on behalf of the solicitor's office Huxton. Mr. Huxton would like to know, if you have received his letter.

The letter was sent to you in the last week - as an express letter !"

The woman's voice sounded slightly reproachfully.

Immediately Samantha felt guilty. All right, a letter had come. And it lay still unopend on her small cherry wood secretary. Jake's impending departure had taken too much of her attention, to take care of her post.

She and Jake had done so much together, to make the last days memorable.

Samantha jammed the handset between ear and shoulder and tore up the letter.

She thought of the last wonderful day they had celebrated with a picnic on the Thames.

How could you have the heart, to separate for such a long time from me, Jake?
  "Miss Brown? Are you still on the line? " the stranger's voice asked, somewhat impatiently.
  "Yes, of course." Samantha flew over the short letter, inviting her to visit the office for an inheritance matter as soon as possible.
  "If it's all right for Mr. Huxton , I'll come by tomorrow," suggested Samantha. They arranged an appointment for late afternoon.

Samantha knew the law firm in London's West End. She had often passed the shiny brass plate on the impressive marble facade. It could just be a mistake, maybe be a confusion of names, she thought. After all, who should bequeath something to her?

Samantha stood all alone in the world. When she was six years old, her father was killed in a plane crash. Her mother, who was never able to overcome the death of her beloved husband, died three years ago, when Samantha was just twenty. Relatives did not exist, except father's quirky sister, who lived somewhere in Cornwall. Samantha's mother did not know her and never spoke of her.
From the sale of her parents' house Samantha funded a training as a bookseller and bought the apartment in which she lived now.

In addition, she took drawing classes at the Academy of Fine Arts. Her dream was to live entirely on her art.

In her work as a bookseller she got to know the publisher Martha, who very soon became her best friend and encouraged her to further promote her talent for drawing. Soon she got small, but regular orders for childrens book illustrations, which improved the sparse booksellers salary somewhat.

The phone rang again. This time it was really Jake. 

"Samantha, I could not manage to come to dinner to you. Can we see each other at the airport? "

"Of course, Jake. I'll be there. "

Samantha quickly hung up the phone, so he could not hear the disappointment in her voice.

*************

In the bustling coffee shop at the airport Jake was waiting for her, and closed her immediately into his arms.

  "Samantha, it is so incredibly hard to part from you!"
      "I feel the same, Jake! Will you remember me? We will be separated for so long! "

Jake with his strong arms encircled the petite Samantha solidly, then he bent her head back, brushed her unruly red curls from her face and kissed tenderly the little snake mark near her ear.
    "I will hardly succeed to forget you. You are something so unique,so special, my Samantha, and not just because of this little special mark. Again he kissed the mark and then turned to her mouth.
    "Last call for the passengers of the flight to Sydney," the speaker of the airport building tore apart the lovers. Jake grabbed his black briefcase, kissed her one last time and then disappeared behind the passport control.

With tearful eyes Samantha walked out of the airport building and searched on the forecourt for her red mini that she had parked in the short parking zone.

For a while she remained seated in the car and stared without seeing something.
   "Miss, you can not stay here!" A Bobby knocked admonishingly at her car window.

She wiped away her tears for the last time. Dark storm clouds gathered on the horizon, as she started the car.
   "Now my days will be so grim as the clouds," Samantha thought, when she was queuing into the traffic. Half a year separation seemed like an eternity.

It was after midnight ,when she arrived home. Luckily there was a parking space near her apartment building.

Deadly tired, she fell at last on her bed and still could not sleep for a long period.

Did Jake love her ? If so, why did he go to Australia? Was his career more important than her?

Actually she had expected from Jake ,that he would talk about their future together. Had he planned it and just not found the right moment?

She had to think of her unhappy mother, who had never got over the death of her beloved husband. Mother had loved too much, without her husband, she felt like a nothing ..
  "Am I like my mother?" asked Samantha. "Do I have to cling to a man to live ? I have my art, Mother had nothing but her great love for husband and daughter.

Martha's words came to her at once: "It is a test of your relationship. If you pass it you can get married. "
   "Martha is right," she thought, and finally fell asleep.

Next morning bright sunshine helped Samantha, despite the shortened night's sleep to be wide awake. It was the right day for her leaf green linen suit and high-heeled sandals. Did not Martha advise her to make herself especially pretty when she was unhappy?

Samantha put a passport and birth certificate for visiting the solicitor's office into her handbag..

Martha's recipe worked. In the bookstore they greeted her more attentively than usual
  "Great, how you look today!" praised a colleague and Maud, her department head, asked if she intended to undertake something special.
  "Yes," Samantha did not reveal more. "Today I must leave the shop in time!“
Then she turned to the first customer of the day, who wanted to buy a picture book for his grandson.

The bustle in the big bookstore was usually hectic.

Samantha worked in the childrens book department. She knew hundreds of colorful picture books from her own experience and therefore was a good consultant for children, parents and grandparents. Some of the books she had illustrated herself. But no one of the colleagues and customers knew about her talent. Samantha was convinced, that she had to learn still a lot and really needed more time to make really good illustrations. Secretly she thought, that

Martha bought drawings from her only out of friendship.

„If I had more time, I could be so much better," she sighed inwardly. The bustle in the shop was indeed enjoyable, but also often very stressful for Samantha. She wanted to be completely dedicated to her drawings. That was Samantha's dream. However, at the time she could not afford to abandon the work in the bookstore completely.

The day dragged on. Because of the good weather there were not a lot of customers today.

At point five Samantha hastily said goodbye to her collegues and left the bookstore.

In the impressive marble hall of the office building she studied the brightly polished brass plates. The firm was on the tenth floor. Samantha entered the elevator and looked at herself in the mirrored elevator car. Her face was pale, she probably was a little excited. What, if she really would be an heiress?

But nonsense, there were so many Englishmen by the name of Brown. And also the name Samantha was not exactly rare. Most surely it was a kind of misunderstanding...-

At the reception desk sat an elderly lady who rose when Samantha made ​​herself known.
  "Mr. Huxton is expecting you, Miss Brown. Please follow me!" she said pleasantly and led Samantha into a wood-paneled room, that was occupied half by a huge desk. Behind it sat a white-haired gentleman, who now stood up and welcomed Samantha. He invited her to sit in the comfortable leather chair. Then he went back behind his desk, cleared his throat and flipped through the pile of papers, which was in front of him.
  "First of all, Miss Brown, I would like to express my condolences to the going home of your aunt Mrs. Samantha Brown."
   "My aunt had the same name as me? I had no idea of that fact! "

Mr. Huxton nodded his head and then asked her a question:
  "You never met your aunt, Mrs. Brown in person, is that right?"
  "As far as I know, never," replied Samantha. "On my question, if I had any relatives, Mother told me of an aunt, a pianist, who should live somewhere in Cornwall. But I had the feeling, that she did not like talking about her. Unfortunately I did not get to learn even more. Mother was very ill and died shortly afterwards."

Mr. Huxton nodded sadly. Then he said something quite unusual:

"Can I ask you something, Miss Brown? Would you push back your hair on the right side slightly from the face? "

Samantha stared at him in amazement, but he smiled so kindly. So she did him the favor and lifted the red-blond hair a little, so that her ear was visible.
  "Incredibly, the same sign, " he whispered.
  "You mean this snake mark?“

Samantha let their hair down again.

„I was born with it. Actually, I can only see it when I look at myself in the mirror from the side. But what ... "She paused, because Mr.Huxton's face had become very serious.

He opened the file in front of him and took out a white oblong envelope and shifted it to Samantha.
  "It is a personal letter from your aunt. She wanted me to pass it to you after her death“.

Samantha asked, how and when her aunt had died.

„Mrs. Samantha Brown, last residing in the community of Borrington, passed away on July 16th of this year. The cause of death was heart failure. She died at the age of 73 years, " read Mr. Huxton.

Samantha turned the letter in her lap. The sender on the old fashioned pressed gold print had her name, but was a Mrs. Brown.

"May I make you now accquainted with the will of Mrs. Samantha Brown in which you are named as her sole heir?"

Samantha nodded, turned the envelope in her hands, stroking it slightly. Then she looked at the lawyer attentively.

And then she could not stop being amazed. She had inherited cash assets of several thousand pounds and also a cottage situated in Borrington, a tiny town on the coast of Cornwall.

Mr. Huxton took her surprise with a little smile. He cleared his throat again and then read the last part of the will:
  "I want that my niece uses Rose Cottage for herself. In no case Rose Cottage may be sold. I have my reasons, which I will explain in a personal letter to my niece ,“ the final sentence ended.
  "And what do you say to this last wish of your aunt?" Mr. Huxton inquired and took off his reading glasses.

"Will you move into the house? It is actually just a cottage but with a privileged location right on the cliffs overlooking the sea. It once belonged to Borrington mansion. That building literally burned down to the foundations, leaving only portions of the basement walls standing, as far as I am aware. At the beginning of the 20th century it was completely destroyed by fire. The grounds of the mansion are also part of your heritage. If you want to sell, I can introduce you to an investor, who wants to build a hotel there with a golf course. "
  "I'll look at it first," said Samantha and rose.

Mr. Huxton smiled and stood up.
  "I will inform the neighbors about it, they keep the key for Rose Cottage."

He handed Samantha a detailed map, on which also the croft of the neighbors was located.
  "You can arrive there any time, someone of the Millers is always at home because of the dairy cattle. The phone number I have listed here. "

Samantha stuck map and letter into her purse and thanked Mr. Huxton.
  "I'll go right on Sunday," she told him and said goodbye.

She felt as under a light general anesthetic as she entered the elevator.

So that's an heiress, she thought, and smiled at her reflection. But then she got quickly serious.
  "I'll first read the letter, before I decide, she thought and tried in vain to shake off her drowsiness. And to her numbness joined an inexplicable fear of what was to come.

"My dear Samantha

when you read this letter, I will no longer be among the living. Maybe you will visit my grave in the cemetery of Borrington and bring me some roses from our cottage. Because it's our, no, now your cottage. You have the same sign on the cheek as I do. I know, because I once saw you many years ago. You had holidays with your parents near Borrington and were walking past my house on the hand of your father, my brother. I came out and talked with your father. But he would not listen to me. He took you in his arms, as if to protect you from me. It hurt me very much. The wind was blowing your curls back and then I saw that you have the same sign.
That is why I have entrusted you with Rose Cottage, so that you cherish it and respect its peculiarities. You wonder, that I speak of a house like of a human being? All I can tell you, that the house is alive. It has a character all of its own, which you'll learn. You yourself will be safe and secure in Rose Cottage, others may be not. You'll find out. Only: you cannot sell the house. Strangers have no business there!"

Samantha lowered the letter sheet. She sat on her comfortable sofa, in front of a cup of tea, which had gotten cold.

Yes, she could remember that incident in Borrington. About four years she was, when she was walking with Father. She remembered how she sighed with delight when she saw the many sheep with their snow-white lambs on their pasture by the sea.

Then they came to a little house which almost disappeared among white climbing roses. From the house suddenly appeared a woman with flying

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 19.02.2015
ISBN: 978-3-7368-7965-2

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Aus dem Deutschen übersetzt Originaltitel: Das Spuk-Cottage in Cornwall gaberellen@gmail.com