Two Loves

Chapter 26

Warning: The cheesiness is about to take over.

***

On my way home, the streets are already getting darker and darker. London in spring is always gloomy. The sun rises late and sets early, and above everything, a cloud of smoke is hanging like a shroud that cancels out the light. You can almost see the ash edges on the white apple blossoms. And this shroud is also having its power over me - while walking, the tiredness completely takes over. I don't even remember when I wasn't sleep-deprived for the last time.
My eyelids droop at every street corner, and still, I know that I won't sleep well this night. Things must be sorted out, and letters written and articles, heavy in my briefcase, must be edited, and, and, and - the list goes on and on. I am already formulating a letter to the grandmotherly Lady Crowley when I open the door to our apartment.

Wait.

My hand goes into my pocket. The key is still there.

Then why the hell is the door open? Didn't I lock it this morning? No, impossible, because I remember that the door was stuck and I had to pull it heavily to close it.

Suddenly, all tiredness is gone. A burglar really is the last thing I needed today. I open the door silently and peek in the hallway behind it. No light, and no chaos. If there is a robber in there, he is very careful.

With a shiver, I remember Andy Nespier, and the letters Atticus and Isaac exchanged, together with the diaries my brother and I both keep. But the police surely wouldn't go that far, would it? Would it?

A blackmailer, on the other hand...

I set down the briefcase in the hallway and, trying to not make a sound, take an umbrella from the holder to my right. A heavy, old piece, belonged to my father, with an iron ending and a sharp spike and take slow steps forward. My ears tingle, trying to catch every sound made.

Softly, I open the door to the living room. Dark, as is the hallway. Or...

No. A weak gleam of light escapes from under the door to the kitchen. My brows furrow in confusion. What kind of burglar robs the kitchen?

Still suspicious, and the umbrella at full blast, I sneak over to the door and press against the wall next to it. Now I also hear quiet clattering. Someone is definitely in there, and it seems as if they want to steal the silver cutlery. Oh no, my friend, you won't get any of that.

I take a last deep breath, then I storm forward blindly, bang down the door and, in the same moment, yell "Hands up where I can see them!"

In the same second I enter, someone already grabs my weapon and twists it so far backwards that it slips out of my hands, whirls it over my head and headlocks me.It goes so fast that I cannot possibly defend myself.

"Let me go!" I scream and try to wrestle myself from these arms, without success. The burglar is smaller than me, but definitely more skilled. Then he suddenly lets me loose. I fall forward on the floor.

"Cymbeline?!"

I know that voice, it dawns upon me as I turn around, fists clenched - and freeze when I see who is standing there in my kitchen.

"Ada?!"

She puts her hands on her hips, looking confused. "Cym, dear, why the hell are you storming your apartment with an umbrella?"

"Why the hell do you break into my kitchen?!" I respond, equally incredulous. Noticing that I still have my fists aimed at her, I take them down.

"I didn't break in here" Ada objects vaguely. "I merely told your neighbour that I am your cousin who came over for an evening, and since I sadly don't have a key, I must ask her for help. That's not illegal, just an infringement. And maybe you should not hide your latchkey under the doormat, darling, it's quite obvious."