The Inheritance: Chapter 5 - Part II (Updated 11/14)

[CuriousSimmer]

The Inheritance
Chapter One - Part VII
August 1945

I had my suspicions about the Thornycroft family, but little did I know that I was not the only one whose interest was raised...


The little bakery downtown was known for its delectable goodies--and not just the baked kind. It was a place to swap gossip for pastries and secrets for cups of coffee, all in the interest of good natured curiosity.


But behind the loaves of fresh-baked bread and sweet donuts...


...and beyond the delicious cobblers and savory lunch pastries...


...hidden behind a padlocked door above the garage was where the real gossip was traded--and not among the neighbors.


"Was that her? Was it all true?" demanded Erik Koenig. He had been left home to mind the bakery all day, and had been sorely disappointed at the fact that he had missed out on the pair's greatest breakthrough to date.


"I can't be sure," said Adela firmly. "But I think it was. I'll try to get a closer look...somehow. From the way it looks, she's been locked up all this time."


"We'd better find out and be sure," said Erik darkly, turning to glance at the map of the world behind him. "It's very important that we get this first step right, or we'll have missed a golden opportunity to control it all."


Adela looked coldly at her cohort across the table. "Don't think I don't realize what the stakes are," she said, her voice tinged with ice. "I know the stakes more than you realize."

Two weeks later...




I had a doctor's appointment in Florence. I stayed two nights in the city and arrived back on a rainy night. The first thing I noticed was the large fountain that had been installed in the courtyard. It was running beautifully, adding a nice cadence to the falling rain.


I knew Dante was at the villa because I saw the lights on from the driveway. I called for him, and he called that he was in the nursery, but not to come in yet. I smiled; he had been surprising me with little things for the past few weeks. It felt nice, after those years married to Roger, to have someone who wanted to make me smile.


"What are you doing in there?" I asked through the door. He only laughed and said, "Wait and see. Have patience, my dear." I returned the laugh and stood outside the door, waiting patiently--or perhaps a little impatiently--until he said, "All right, come in!"


He stood in the center of the nursery, which had been redone completely since I saw it last. Gone were the moldy carpets, the peeling wallpapers, and the splintered furniture. In their place was a warm, safe haven for my child, who was due to arrive within a month. "Oh, Dante, it's beautiful! You shouldn't have."

"I wanted to have somewhere beautiful for your child. For...our child," he said, placing a hand on my swollen womb. "I want to help you raise the baby. I want to be its father, Elizabeth."

"You are," I said, and kissed him. "You will be."


We spent hours that week planning our engagement party, which would double as the showing off of the refurbished villa. Dante continued to surprise me. But unknown to me, there would be more surprises to come...

[CuriousSimmer]

The Inheritance
Chapter One - Part VIII
September 1945

Dante and I sat in the library, finally finished planning the party. It would be tonight, tonight that we celebrated with family and those we had come, through various social occasions, to know as friends.

There was nothing left to plan for that night as Dante combed his hair back and I put in my best hair pin. We had only to enjoy ourselves. Unfortunately, fate had dealt us another hand.


The whole neighborhood showed up for the party: Lady Thornycroft in her furs; Adela Koenig in her fashions from Paris; Lord Grant Thornycroft in his medals and sashes; Erik Koenig in his favorite suit; and Mama Moretti in her sensible dress.

I must admit that everything was beautifully done. It may sound immodest, but the table was tastefully set; the food was immaculately prepared, and the music was played on my new, top of the line gramophone.

The conversation went from gossip ("Did you hear about Maisy Wilcox's husband? He nearly drowned in the swimming pool!" said Grant), to religion ("I simply don't see vhy ve need Gud," intoned Erik), to politics ("I see no problem with Mussolini's fascism, it was Hitler where things went wrong; no offense, Fraulein Koenig," gushed Lady Thornycroft).


We laughed and drank good wine and ate good food and enjoyed ourselves. That is, until Lady Thornycroft got up to indulge in another slice of cake.

"My dear Elizabeth, there's something out in your garden. My goodness, it looks like a man!" I hurried over to the window to have a look for myself. There was a man in my garden! I went to the door, Dante hurrying after me.


"Who are you?" I asked, peering into the darkness. "What do you want?"
"It's me," said a voice that was all too familiar.


And then Roger Williams stepped into the light from the window, his handsome face unchanged by his supposed death.

The party ended immediately. Lady Thornycroft, perhaps remembering her own experience at the tea party, helped to corral the guests as they left. Dante and I retired to the lounge to talk with Roger.


"Roger, what...?" was all I could say. My voice refused to form words, even if my mind could could have lined them up into an intelligent sentence, which it couldn't.

He looked sheepish as he sprawled over my new sofa. "I'm sorry, Lizzy, I really am. I never meant to hurt you, but I really needed to get away. Who's this?" he added, pointing at Dante.


"He's my... we're getting married," I said, still dazed.

"What? But you're still married to me," said Roger, jumping to his feet.

"You're dead," said Dante heatedly. "She's free to do what she wants."

I staggered to my feet; my stomach was turning and I thought I might be sick.


"You're pregnant," said Roger with a smile. "That's great! It's mine, right?"

"Yes," I said weakly. I felt dizzy, I felt warm and uncomfortable. I was humiliated, but I had done nothing wrong. The world was spinning, and I reached for the mantle as support. "Roger, if you're here, who the hell is this?"

I nodded at the ashes on the marble mantle. "Oh," he said. "I put my tags on one of my squadmates when we were ambushed."

The matter of factness with which he described his fraud threw me into a rage. I lifted the urn with every intention of hurling it at his head, but at that moment, I felt wetness in my shoes. I looked down. My legs were wet. My water had broken. The baby, it seemed, was on its way.

[Astral Faery]

Nicely written, as usual.  Your pictures are nice, too, and go well with the story.  I'm pretty ticked off at Roger and wish she would've hurled the urn at him, too!  What nerve.  He's so casual about the whole thing, like it's no big deal - doesn't he have a shred of decency to realize what kind of impact that might make on his wife?  And I can't wait to find out more about the lady in the attic.  Quite a gripping tale!

[AjiDivine]

You have drawn me in. Great story....I am impatiently waiting for the next installment.

[CuriousSimmer]

I just realized that she doesn't look pregnant in the shot of her at the mantle! :/ I think she gave birth before I could take it, I know it happened right around there. Just pretend she's still big.

Thanks to everyone who's kept up with the story, I hope not to disappoint you.

[Astral Faery]

LOL!  I didn't even notice!

[CuriousSimmer]

The Inheritance
Chapter One - Part IX
September 1945

While I was going through the pain of labor, in town at the Koenig Bakery, Erik and Adela Koenig were experiencing some discomfort of their own.


"What the hell was that?" Adela shouted so loudly that a cat scampered out from the alley between the garage and the bakery. "What the hell was that?"
"I don't know," Erik admitted. "Be quiet, someone will hear you. For the love of--just be quiet, all right, and we'll figure it out."
"We need to call the Commissar," said Adela forcefully as she drew the curtains on the window.


Adela made no move for the phone, however. She remained staring at the pinboard on the wall. "We had no idea," she said. "I can't believe it. We had absolutely no idea. This changes everything, don't you understand that?" She ran her fingers through her hair, shaking the rings loose in a burst of nervous energy.


"We might not have to call in the Commissar yet," said Erik darkly. "You know he'll just--"
"You don't understand. This was a stupid assignment, it was simple. Find the girl to leverage the Thornycrofts. The Americans weren't even supposed to be involved!" said Adela.
Erik stroked his chin thoughtfully. "It's possible that this is all just personal. He could just be--"
"Don't be stupid," Adela said. "An American soldier shows up in this town, at this time, just after we've set up shop?"


Five minutes later, Adela had dialed and been connected. "Leningrad; the Black Commissariat; clearance level highest; passcode 'Pride of Proletariat'," she said in her native Russian.
"Da, Commissar Ysadrov here."
"Commissar, we have a problem..." said Adela, twirling the cord for the phone around her finger nervously.


"I still don't know about this," said Erik as he settled into his seat. "I still think we should wait more and see how things go."


"It's too late now," snapped Adela. "We're, as they say, locked in. Perhaps we can benefit from Commisar Ysadrov's expertise. In the mean-time, get ready."


They both looked at the chair at the head of the table. Soon it would be occupied and soon, they hoped, they would make sense of this rapidly-complicating situation. And if they were lucky, they might just survive.

Three hours later...


Josephine.

The name meant nothing to me, and it meant everything. It wasn't a family name, or the name of a myth of which I was familiar. But every time I looked into the face of my beautiful baby girl, the only thing I could think was "Josephine". She was perfect; ten fingers, ten toes, and the smoothest skin I had ever felt.


I didn't want to go back to the problems that were swallowing my life, but I did. I left Josephine in her crib and went back downstairs, where Dante and Roger were glaring daggers at each other.

"Are you all right?" Dante demanded.
"The midwife left hours ago, where have you been?"
I gave a weary sigh and took a seat on the sofa with Dante. "Resting," I said.
"How's the baby?" Dante asked.
"Josephine Marie," I said with a smile.
"Can I see her?" asked Roger.
"Um..." I said. I didn't want to have him upstairs; it felt like he was intruding on my life, the life I was trying to build with Dante. But Roger was Josephine's father; I couldn't refuse. "Yes, all right, for a moment. Dante..."
"I'll wait down here," he said softly.


"She's beautiful," said Roger.
"Yes, she is. Roger, now that we're alone, I need to know what it is you want. You faked your death to get away from me; I can't imagine you've come to claim me."
"I realize now that I was wrong," said Roger earnestly. "I mistreated you, I know that now. I want to be a family, with you and little Josephine. What's the harm in that?"
"I've moved on, Roger. You're dead, remember?"
"But I'm not. In the eyes of God, we're still married."
"I don't think so, Roger."
"For God's sake, Lizzy!" he said loudly. Josephine began to wail, and I picked her up.
"Just go, Roger. Please go. We'll talk about this... tomorrow. Okay? Please, go." I comforted Josephine as Roger picked stood and then left. I held Josephine and looked into her face. Her facial features were mine: the slightly upturned nose, the formed cheekbones, the pink lips. But her eyes, I realized... her eyes were Roger's. And for the first time I began to consider that we were a family now. Did I have a responsibility to Roger, after all he'd done? Would he be a good father for Josephine?

These were questions I couldn't answer.

[Astral Faery]

I can answer them - tell Roger to go take a hike, lol!  I'm sure there's more to his side of the story, but so far he's really looking like a turd to me.  We'll have to see if he can redeem himself.  Baby Josephine is beautiful.

[purpleshoes]

Awh, Josephine is so cute.
I don't like Roger. I think Lizzy should get rid of him somehow and marry Dante.

[CuriousSimmer]

The Inheritance
Chapter One - Part X
September 1945

I didn't sleep the whole night, and in the morning I needed advice. I called the local cathedral and spoke to Father Bianchi. He invited me down to speak and pray with him, and I left Josephine in the care of Dante.


"What is troubling you, my child?" asked Father Bianchi. He was an older man, a native Italian, and a man of the cloth. "You look as if you've been through a storm."


"I have a question," I said. "A question about marriage. You see, I married a man named Roger four years ago. Shortly thereafter we became...estranged, but mindful of the church's teaching, we tried to work it out. He went away to war and I received a telegram saying he was killed."


"Yes, my child. The church is very clear on this. What is your concern?" asked the Priest.


"After my husband died, I came here to my family's villa. I met a man there and.. well, a relationship developed and he proposed to me and I accepted. This whole matter is complicated by the fact that, before he went off to war, I became pregnant with my husband's child."


"Are you thinking that, perhaps, continuing this relationship with this new fellow would be being unfaithful in the eyes of God? The Bible doesn't forbid remarriage after being widowed, my child." Father Bianchi patted my hand comfortingly.


"Well," I said, shifting uncomfortably. "The thing is, Roger...didn't die. He faked his death and has come back. He says he wants to be a family with me and our daughter, Josephine. But, Father, I'm not comfortable with this. Roger's deceit makes me uneasy."

Father Bianchi nodded thoughtfully. "The situation is not one that is covered in the scriptures," he said kindly. "I can only say that you should think about it and pray about it and in the end you must be guided by your conscience and the will of God."

The Father blessed me and said to come by if I ever needed anything, and led me to a prayer altar.


Kneeling under the cross, I prayed with all my might that God would grant me the wisdom to make the right choice, for me and for my daughter. Most of all, I wanted a safe, nurturing home for my family. My heart sang for Dante, but my Catholic sensibility said I was pledged to Roger.


As I left the church, I recalled the verse inscribed on the base of the cross at which I had been kneeling. Of all the promises that God had made his people, I felt his promise to be with us was the one that was least fulfilled.

Back at the Villa...

Dante came down the stairs when her hear my car in the drive. "Josephine is soundly asleep," he told me as he helped me out of my coat. I swept my hat off my head and tucked it in the closet before following him into the living room. "Let's open that champagne; we never got a chance last night."


"Here's to us," said Dante. I wanted to tell him everything, about being torn between faith and love, duty and self-indulgence. But I couldn't, not yet, not until I had made a final decision. And so I drank to us.


"Before I forget," said Dante, as he returned our flutes to the bar. "Come here, I want to show you something."
I went over and was shocked to find a service pistol on the table. "Dante, what in the world are you doing with that?"


A sudden wind swept over the hill, and gray clouds billowed outside. Dante said, "I don't like the looks of Roger. Something about him isn't right. I want you to be safe in case he tries anything."

As I looked down at the gun, a chill trailed down my spine. "I hope I never need to use it," I said quietly.

"So do I," said Dante, his eyes brooding.

[discowhipped]

Ooh, this story is really good! Lots of scandal... drama and mystery. Just my kind of story. :-P

[purpleshoes]

Another amazing chapter.
I just love this story.

[steelguy]

Holy cow! I blinked and missed about 4 new chapters!

This is great! All these intriguing little hints and plots. And I love your camera techniques - really adds to the drama.

But his Roger? Absolute Cad and Scoundrel! Fellow should probably be charged with desertion or something, too - if he faked his death and disappeared. You can't just wander back like this without the authorities making a fuss about it.

Keep it up!

[Astral Faery]

I like being a part of her internal struggle.  That was nice to see.  And I also like the way Dante was so ominous about the pistol and Roger.  Can't wait to see what happens next.  Great job!

[CuriousSimmer]

The Inheritance
Chapter One - Part XI
October 1945

Appearances could be deceiving--it was a lesson that Ashka Ysadrov had learned at an early age and one that she had tried to teach those under her charge. From the looks of the bakery, Erik and Adela had learned well.


"Welcome to--ah, Commissar!" said Adela, straightening up. "We didn't realize you'd be here so soon."
The Commissar folded her arms. "I hope that would have no impact on your readiness status. Is there somewhere private we can talk, Comrade?"
"Of course, we can go to the safe room."
"Wait. This is a functioning bakery, yes?" asked the Commissar. Adela nodded. "I am hungry. Make me something for dinner, would you?"


"Greetings," said the Commissar as she stepped into the kitchen to find Erik reading the newspaper. "I am Ashka Ysadrov, two times winner of Order of Lenin, Colonel in the revolutionary intelligence service."
"Yes, Commissar," said Erik with disinterest. "We've met several times."
"Of course. It is you who leads this outpost, am I correct?"


As Adela served the sandwiches, she listened to the conversation between Erik and Ysadrov. What fools they were, she thought to herself. Erik was more interested in bedding the wives that came to the bakery than executing their mission. And Ysadrov thought that he was heading the mission.
"I want no more excuses," said the Commissar as Adela set out the sandwiches. "We will discuss this when I have been fed."

Night fell, and the trio went to the secure room above the garage.


"This is the American?" Ysadrov asked, pointing at a poor-quality photograph on the bulletin board. Erik had snapped the photo using a tiny camera the night of the engagement party.


"Yes. We don't know what he's doing here, but we thought it prudent to alert you," said the Commissar.
Ysadrov sighed and walked towards the conference table. "The Americans have been posturing for some time. Since Potsdam, since Yalta certainly. It's possible they know about your mission here. And if they do, the British do, so be wary of the Thornycrofts."


"The world is reshaping itself, Comrades. If you are capable of keeping up and doing what is required, you will have a place in the new regime. We all will," said Ysadrov, a sinister glint in her cold, grey eyes.


"But if you fail," she continued, "you shouldn't expect a place in the Soviet Union. In fact, if you fail, you shouldn't expect a place in this world at all. I hope I needn't explain it more clearly."

Meanwhile, at the Thornycrofts'...


While the Koenigs were dealing with their new visitor, the Thornycrofts had a guest of their own. Throughout the previous two weeks, Grant Thornycroft had run into Roger Williams several times. Tonight, Grand invited Roger over for dinner.


"Mother," said Grant while they enjoyed after-dinner drinks in the lounge. "I'd like to ask Mr. Williams here to stay with us. We have the spare room, after all, and Mr. Williams has just been staying at the dreadful little in in town."
Lady Thornycroft was hesitant. "Well, I don't see why not. I'll have to get the guest room ready. Shall you being your visit tomorrow?"


"I would be honored and quite grateful," said Roger, smiling at Lady Thornycroft. "I appreciate your hospitality."


"Don't imagine you'll get something for nothing," said Lady Thornycroft, a coy smile playing across her lips. Roger looked at her uncomfortably, and she laughed. She gestured to herself and to Grant and said, "I hope we'll get to know everything about you."


But little did the Thornycrofts and Roger know that, thanks to a broken latch on the attic door, someone else would be hearing everything too.