Elizabeth’s arms fell to her sides. She gasped for air and whispered. “My mother? She…she hasn’t died?… Is she really my mother? I…thought my mother’s name was—”

“Klara,” Patrick said. His voice low and powerless. “That’s how papa used to call her.” He shook his head as if refusing to say more. Then suddenly he raised his head and looked at Alice. “How did she find out? Did you tell her?” There was no anger in his voice. It seemed to be just a question.

Alice shook her head. “No. I think this is none of my business. It was only up to you to do so.”

Patrick’s face colour returned and deepened immediately.

Alice let Patrick’s arm go and turned her hand revealing an open palm. With a shrug she said, “It was Lily who told her Liza was here. And before that Claire saw Liza sleeping outside the other day and recognized her.”

Elizabeth’s jaw dropped. She noticed it, pulled it up and said, “She recognized me? After all these years? But why…” Why didn’t she try to find me? Elizabeth couldn’t pronounce her thought out loud.

Patrick shook his head without raising his head.

“I think you better go to Claire and find out for yourself,” Alice said.

Elizabeth nodded. She stood up and looked at Patrick. She hoped he wouldn’t come with her.

He kept on shaking his head, looking on the floor. What was wrong with him?

“You can speak to Patrick afterwards, if you like,” said Alice.

I don’t! Elizabeth hoped that this thought wasn’t too obvious.

“If you like,” said Patrick.

This started Elizabeth. Was this an offer to talk? After he almost threw her out of the house?! “Are you sure?” She couldn’t take her eyes off Patrick, even if looking at him still sent chills to her spine.

“No, I’m not. And I don’t want to.” He glanced at her, his eyes red and tired. “But probably we should.”

“Liza,” said Alice. “You should go now and talk to Claire. She becomes tired very fast. So you better talk to her before she takes her next nap.”

“Is she ill?” Then for the first time of their acquaintance she saw something close to restlessness in Alice’s eyes, so she added, “Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to be so pushy. Where should I go?”

“You are not at all pushy. Don’t worry,” Alice said. “Claire’s room is on the second floor. I’ll show you.” With this she went out of the kitchen.

Elizabeth followed Alice up the stairs. She recalled how the handrail felt many years ago. Further then that should couldn’t tell what she saw or felt as she climbed the stairs. She tried to remember how her mother looked like when she, Elizabeth, was small and simultaneously to imagine how her mother looked like now.

Her vain attempt to see her mother in her memories and now was stopped by Alice’s back, into which Elizabeth almost bumped. She managed to stop one inch behind it. “Oh sorry, I—”

“Wait a second here, OK?” Alice smiled as she took a step away and turned to face Elizabeth.

“Yes, yes.” Elizabeth backed a step too.

Alice left the door open. Elizabeth heard Alice saying, “Claire, Liza is here. Shall I call her in?”

Silence followed.

In the next moment Alice appeared in the gap of the opened door. “You can go in now.” Then she ran down the stairs without making a sound.

Elizabeth turned to the door and knocked. I should knock, right? Even if allowed to come in?

Again, silence.

Elizabeth entered the room and in the first moment she thought it was empty. In the next she heard a quiet sound of typing on a keyboard at her right.

Elizabeth turned and saw a woman in a wheelchair. The typing stopped. The corner of the room, where she sat was dark, but Elizabeth still could see her features clearly. Either the darkness or something else made Claire’s face soft.

She had grey hair, Patrick’s eyes, and a smile. A frozen smile. After she stopped typing, not a single muscle of her body seemed to move.

Her gaze darted somewhere and then back to meet Elizabeth’s eyes. Elizabeth frowned. Claire repeated the movement. Looking somewhere away then back at Elizabeth.

As Claire was about to make the same movement again, Elizabeth decided to follow her gaze. She looked at her left and discovered a white wall with a brightly lit spot. On it, the words were projected, and started to multiply, “Hello Liza. I am so glad you found your way here.”

Elizabeth turned to the woman in the wheelchair. She had tears in her eyes.

Picture: At a bus stop in the centre of Aalborg.

P.S. Chapter 11 will be written and posted latest in two weeks time.

P.P.S. You can find the complete story written so far at “Free Online Books”.

P.P.P.S. If you think your friends might this story, then let them know about it and forward it to them.

Everything except one paragraph  (1st paragraph in Chapter 1) of “Nothing is As it Seems” is under copyright © 2016 by Victoria Ichizli-Bartels

Ingrid and Alice stood up in unison, Steve’s head tilting after Ingrid. Alice took the mugs to the sink, while Ingrid released the brakes on Steve’s wheelchair. Before she pulled the wheelchair away from the table she patted Steve’s hand, which he seemed to have readily placed on his shoulder for her to reach.

The noise died as Alice closed the door after Steve, Ingrid and herself.

Elizabeth cringed. The silence was deafening.

This is not how she imagined a family reunion.

Not that she expected one.

Elizabeth didn’t think she would find anyone from her family here. She actually didn’t know now what she had expected. Had she ever grasped her wish into words? Elizabeth wasn’t sure.

Her father told her about her mother’s death when she was small. But he never mentioned a son.

And now Patrick, the “mad” mad, was her brother.

Elizabeth stole a glance at him.

He stood at the same spot, which he occupied after letting Alice, Steve and Ingrid out.

When he gazed at them a minute ago, he looked so scared. So lost. Like a small boy. Although by now Elizabeth was sure that he was older than she was. And she now guessed, whose elbow was touching her shoulder on the photograph she showed to Alice and Ingrid.

Oh no, the photograph! Elizabeth glanced at the table. How could she take it back without Patrick noticing?

She glanced up and discovered that Patrick watched her but in the next moment he seemed to check where her gaze had been the moment before.

Patrick froze.

Too late, he saw it.

Patrick made a step to the table and took the picture.

He gripped it with both hands, his jaw moving from one side to another.

Then he did something strange. He looked closer at the photograph. But not this was strange. The way he did it was strange. He bowed his body above the picture instead of bringing it closer to his face.

Elizabeth couldn’t make out Patrick’s expression. She saw only his high forehead, dense brows, pressed together, and skulls moving.

Shiver ran along Elizabeth’s spine in spite of the warm air full of chocolate aroma filling the large kitchen, which Elizabeth recognized being the living room when she was small.

Can’t Patrick say something? Should I say something?

“Sorry”, she said.

Patrick look up, his eyes glazed. He squeezed his eyelids shut and then released them. “Why.” He paused. “Why did you come?”

“My…father died and I…”

“What?”

“I wanted to find out…”

“What?”

“What happened when I was small. I don’t remember anything from here. I mean…inside. I remember how the house looked from outside. But not exactly how it used to be inside. How…we lived here.” She looked at Patrick hoping to ignite at least a little compassion in him. “I must have been old enough to remember something. But I don’t.”

“Oh that’s simple.” Patrick’s cold gaze returned, however mixed with something undefinable, as he took a chair at the opposite side of the table. “You fell of the roof.”

Elizabeth felt her eyes opening as never before. “I fell…of the roof?”

“Yes. I pushed you.”

“What? You…” Elizabeth found all her face muscles gathering somewhere around her nose. “But why?”

“Because you were stupid and I hated you.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath and looked at Patrick in disbelief. His look was on the picture, which he still held in his hands.

“I don’t believe you,” Elizabeth said.

“That’s your problem.” Patrick shovelled the picture toward Elizabeth along the table top. “Now, that you know what happened, you can leave. You are not wished here.”

A lump of something appeared in her stomach and started to raise inside her. No, not tears. It was anger. And a very strong one.

“No, dear brother, you won’t get rid of me so easily.” She crossed her hands in front of her. “What did I do as a child that made you hate me. And as it looks still make you hate me?”

“You were just stupid. That’s all. There is nothing more to that.”

“I don’t believe you.” Elizabeth drew a deep breath. “I don’t believe a word you said. And…I want to know more. About our parents. About our mother. You owe me this much.”

“Owe you? Since when? Since our dear father took you away from us…from here? You probably used to idolize him, right?”

Elizabeth drew another deep breath but didn’t manage to answer, because Patrick hit the table top with his forearms as he supported himself on the polished surface.

“And I bet you still do,” Patrick said. He leaned back in the chair. “So just go back to where you come from and live further in your fairy tale of a story. What was here is none of your business.”

“It is my business and I bet I have a right to this house as much as you do!” Oh-oh, this didn’t go out well.

“Is this is what your visit is about? To get money out of the house? Not the honourable”, Patrick grimaced, “finding and reconciling with the long lost family. Ha! You know what? Just go to the court and claim a part and let the lawyers do the talk.” Patrick stood up. “I’m done with you. I guess you will find your way out.”

“Patrick, wait! This is not what I meant.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He took a step to the door and was surprised as it almost hit him in the face.

Alice stood at the other side. “Oh, I didn’t see you. Sorry!” She measured him with a concerned look. “Are you all right? Did I hit you?”

Patrick grabbed the door knob. “No, no, I’m fine. I was just finished here and wanted to do some urgent things and—”

“Claire wants to talk to Liza.”

Blood left Patrick’s face.

Elizabeth frowned. “Who is Claire?”

Alice looked at Elizabeth, at Patrick, then back at Elizabeth. She put her left hand on Patrick’s covering the door knob and the right arm on his other arm. It was as if she knew what just happened here and as if she was trying to stop him from leaving. Then she said turning back to Elizabeth, “Claire is Patrick’s and…your mother.”

Picture: Snow in our garden.

P.S. Chapter 10 will be written and posted latest in two weeks time.

P.P.S. You can find the complete story written so far at the page “Free Online Books”.

P.P.P.S. If you think you have friends who could like this story, then let them know about it and forward it to them.

Everything except one paragraph  (1st paragraph in Chapter 1) of “Nothing is As it Seems” is under copyright © 2016 by Victoria Ichizli-Bartels

Elizabeth looked into Patrick’s eyes full of rage.

Yes, what am I actually doing here?

She felt her head spinning. She turned to Alice, trying to focus on her eyes. Please, Alice, help me!

Alice turned to her husband without granting even a slightest look Elizabeth. Instead, she slowly made herself comfortable by setting one of her forearms on the table and another on the back of her chair.

Patrick pushed and pulled the door toward and away from him as if not sure whether to stay or leave the kitchen and all the people inside it.

Alice finally said, “Don’t you think it’s time you talked to your sister?”

The door in Patrick’s hand stopped. The world spinning in front of Elizabeth a second ago froze as well. Sister?

Ingrid put her both elbows on the table, leaning deeply to look at Patrick and Elizabeth. “Sister?” she said Elizabeth’s thought out loud.

Patrick glanced at Alice, his face filling with colour. “So you guessed.” Patrick’s voice was not more than an audible whisper. He lowered his gaze to a spot somewhere under Alice’s chair.

All Elizabeth could do was watch this scene unfold. She dearly hoped that it would somehow resolve without her needing to say anything.

“But of course!” Ingrid exclaimed seeming to be oblivious to Elizabeth’s and Patrick’s confusion. “You two are like twins. How didn’t I see it before!? Only the hair colour is different.” She looked to Elizabeth, then at Patrick and then at Elizabeth again. “Liza, do you dye your hair?”

Elizabeth pushed her eyelids apart. “Um. No. Yes. I mean, I do only highlights.”

“Looks good.” Ingrid turned her head to Patrick without moving her shoulders. “Patrick, you could use some too.” She chuckled and winked at Steve, who sniggered inaudibly.

“Mum.” Alice stood up. “Let’s get Steve and Lily for a walk outside. The fresh air would do them good.”

Ingrid nodded. “Yes, a good idea. And an empty kitchen without witnesses would do Patrick and Liza good.” She winked at both.

Picture: A house on the outskirts of Aalborg.

P.S. Chapter 9 will be written and posted latest in two weeks time.

P.P.S. You can find the complete story written so far at the page “Free Online Books”.

P.P.P.S. If you think you have friends who could like this story, feel free to forward it to them.

Everything except one paragraph  (1st paragraph in Chapter 1) of “Nothing is As it Seems” is under copyright © 2015-2016 by Victoria Ichizli-Bartels