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"Well, I told them you're expecting a baby," he smiled. " I don't know how you'll take it but it was the only solution!"
"A baby!!!" Lindsay burst into laughter and couldn't stop it. Marc couldn't help laughing with her. But then it came to Lindsay that it was true. She was indeed going to have a child. A little girl, little Elisa. She was going to do everything to find her. To find Connor's daughter. Her daughter.
"You're laughing, that means you're feeling well," Lindsay watched her new friends entering the room.
"Are you already O.K.?" they approached the bed.
"Thank you for the concern, I am fine, yesterday was just a little accident," she smiled reassuringly and charming.
"Good old Lindsay," Marc thought with relief.
"Oh, who are you going to have?" Maria, a pretty young woman asked. "A girl, I'm sure. I am not good enough for boys," Lindsay answered. "And what will be the name?"
"Elisa," Lindsay said thoughtfully and Marc looked up. She sounded strange.
"Her name is Elisa."
After a while the guests told their farewells to Lindsay who reassured them she'll be present tonight at the party. They wanted to go wandering and invited Marc who agreed after some wavering. He would have liked to stay with Lindsay but if she said she were o.k. and wished to be a bit alone why not?
As for Lindsay she knew that Mrs. Canningham would come. It was a strange feeling Lindsay couldn't explain. Perhaps it was a dream, but in the last two days reality became entwined with dreams and Lindsay couldn't part them.
And as she heard someone knocking at the door, she said: "Come in, Mrs. Canningham."
"Well done, my child. You learn quickly," the old woman sat down on the sofa. "You knew I would come?"
"Yes, I did," Lindsay answered quietly. No more hysterics or fears: she wasn't a little child. She won't let this woman take hold of her.
"I would like you to tell me the story to the end, Mrs. Canningham. Would you like some tea?" her gray attentive eyes met the blue ones of the old woman.
"Aren't you afraid to learn something bad?" she asked and there was a shadow of a smile upon her face.
"I'm not. Milk or lemon?"
The woman smiled: "Lemon. Well, this young doctor Doyle fell in love with Natasha. It was obvious. They liked each other, spent a lot of time together and were happy. They visited me often, Ms. Donner and we have talked about different things. Doyle told me he was going to marry the girl. I doubted it would ever happen but he insisted. I am sorry I was right," the woman lowered her eyes. "That night there was a storm, we were cut of electricity, my husband and children went to bed very early and only I was lying sleepless. It was around midnight when I heard someone knocking at my door. I was at once wide-awake, got down and opening the door saw Connor and Natasha. And then the sky: it was red, though it was already midnight. In few words Connor told me about the explosion that caused fire in the Old House. Natasha's parents and everyone in the building died. They were the only soles that survived. Natasha was very sad, she loved her parents but still there was Connor and I think his presence cheered her up. They left the following day, disappearing from the village and as I thought from my life. The Old House lay in ashes, everyone in the village told me the next day about the fire. I could have never imagined that the past will return, haunting me and causing another tragedy. I was already living here for some time: my older children were working by then and Frank stayed with them in the town, in a boarding school. The story happened six years ago just when Clark was away on business. One day I saw Natasha staying in front of me. She has changed a lot: there was no trace of light - hearted girl with golden curls and laughing blue eyes. There was tiredness on her face and traces of tears in her eyes. And do you know what struck me the most?" "No," Lindsay tried not to say more.
"She was pregnant, Ms. Donner and it looked as if she got the baby every moment. I won't hide I was shocked and astonished. We sat in the living - room and between sobs Natasha told me that the whole CIA and other secret services were after her and that she couldn't involve Connor in that business. I found out she has worked for KGB in spite of the fact Connor warned her thousand times she must finish the play. And now when CIA collected enough files for her to be arrested she simply broke away, leaving Connor without any trace. I tried to sooth her and to remind her of her child. Then she said I must make everything possible for the child to get to Dr. Doyle. But I didn't succeed. The following morning I saw Natasha was gone. Her body was found in a day in the woods and there was no trace of the baby. The first whom I called was Doyle. As he came here he was too grief - stricken to ask anything. He never mentioned the child and I told him nothing because it was already too late."
"And what happened then?" Lindsay knew she had to find out the whole truth.
"I don't know, I have seen neither Doyle nor the kid again. But I was sure that some day the story will start again. Be cautious, my child, I feel another tragedy coming. It's an unlucky place for you."
"But you told me that I was destined to come to the Old House. Why?" "You're a scientist Ms. Donner, aren't you? But as far as I know you work for the O.S.I.R. and you have seen inexplicable cases. I simply knew you would come. Perhaps it was Natasha who told me", the woman waited for Lindsay's reaction and as she saw none, she proposed: "Maybe you would like to know where Natasha's buried?"
It was more a statement than a question and Lindsay agreed. She has already thought whether it would be right to draw the team to the case. But what did she have? A pair of old ghosts, things dating back to World War II? A dead girl referring to a dead Case Manager? And Lindsay desperately wished Connor were alive.
The two women left the hotel and headed the mountains. As Mrs. Canningham made her way through the forest, Lindsay silently followed her.
"You can feel it as well, can't you?" the old woman suddenly asked. "What?" Lindsay wondered. And then all at once she knew: it was still. Too still for a forest. Usually there were singing birds, wind whispering in the trees but now it was a dead silence. Lindsay shuddered, "dead" was the word she would have liked not to use but only through "dead" she could describe the atmosphere. And not for the 1st time in this strange place Lindsay had a strong wish to run away.
At last they stopped at a little grave - yard. Lindsay went after Mrs. Canningham following the narrow pace that led to a grave. There were fresh flowers and letters on the tombstone shone, having been newly painted. Lindsay bent forward to read. Everything was usual except the words, written in a language Lindsay didn't know.
"What is it?" she wondered.
"Here is written "ja vernus' "", the woman answered. "Translated in Russian it means…"
"I will be coming back," Lindsay said quietly.
"You know Russian?" it was Mrs. Canningham's turn to be surprised. "No, I don't but I know the words. I have already heard them, in a poem," she replied thoughtfully.
"Natasha liked poetry and Doyle too. As far as I remember he even wrote some."
Lindsay wavered before asking the question but still found courage to do it. "Was Natasha's child a girl?" she wondered cautiously.
"How do you know?" the woman watched her sharply. "Have you seen her?"
"No, not really," quickly replied Lindsay regretting her curiosity. But there was no doubt: there was Elisa and she was waiting for her out there.
After having said farewell to Mrs. Canningham Lindsay went to the Old House. It was a ruin, the walls black from the fire and windows staring like blind eyes. The whole scenery gave the creeps but Lindsay told herself she won't be intimidated. She had to find out more about the mysterious house and about Elisa. The door creaked warningly as Lindsay opened it. Inside it was stiff, damp and dark, the floor covered with fallen leaves and dead mice. Lindsay switched on her flashlight and attentively studied the walls, looking for a sign that would lead her to the laboratory.
Having found nothing she simply took the way through the door that could be seen on the other side of the hall. As she wandered, she used flashlight not to fall over the roots or burnt furniture. And then her eye caught something looking like a glass. It was a glass indeed, a little white - black photo taken already long ago. It was the photo of a young couple: the blond girl was smiling gaily into the camera and near her Lindsay saw a face she knew only too well: it was Connor. A very young boy, looking almost as careless as Natasha. Lindsay wondered how the fire spared the photo. Looking around the room she saw traces of an inferno. Lindsay could only too well imagine how the building exploded into millions of pieces, causing a big fire that seemed to burn the sky. A fire that destroyed lives, dividing loving soles. A fire that killed Connor. Lindsay lowered to the floor and sobbed, mourning the loss she wouldn't ever get over.
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