the same one that led the funeral procession." Vera pointed to the painting. "Oh, I knew he was dead, but he didn't die like that," she explained. "He woke up clutching his chest, his bulging eyes almost popping out of his head. Knowing it was the end, he grabbed for a note pad and scribbled and scrawled and didn't finish it all. He tore the page from it - now you tell me - why would he do that, if he hadn't finished?"
There hadn't been a note!
He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. What if it were true? What would that mean?
She seemed to read his mind.
"You were there this morning, it's why you were late . . . there was a note. It slipped under the bed off the bedside table, the draught from the door blew it there when the housekeeper went in to wake him. She found it after you left. Do you want to know what it said?"
The cold truth of what she was saying started goose bumps rising; a chill ran over him, and the hair on his arms stood up as if in an electrostatic parade.
"Will you tell me?"
Vera beckoned him closer. "Yes, but it's for your ears only."
Mrs Flynn looked fearful. She shook her head and said emphatically, "I'll not leave the room!"
He bent forward and inclined his head towards her. She leaned and whispered something in his ear.
What she said made him stand erect and incredulous. She gave him three predictions, and of those, one came true within the hour. The second would be confirmed in the not too distant future, while the third would remain a secret until the time was right to reveal it many years hence. She played her tongue suggestively across her lips, her green eyes shiny with unmistakable desire.
Mrs Flynn was outraged. She grabbed his bag, shoved it into his arms and ushered him out. "That's enough! What sort of doctor are you anyway!"
Ryan blustered, protesting.
Her finger pointed to the door. "Out!" She started moving towards him. He had the distinct impression if he didn't leave right away, she might help him on his way.
The sun came out beyond the confines of the room. Not visible outside the window, it didn't shine in directly, but the increase in light drew his attention to the painting. At the top was a tiny church with an illuminated cross. How did I not see that before? For no particular reason, he noted that the window faced north.
The business with Dr Robert and Mr Ryan's subsequent visit made Brenda Flynn's mind up for her. Vera's little predictions were becoming all too frequent and always coming true.
Keep her on the side of God, away from the Devil. After what she'd seen of her flirting with Ryan, it was time to act.
She reported Vera to the church and told them all that she knew of her devil's curse.
Chapter 11
Ryan had waited for three weeks for the results of Vera's blood test to arrive before he called the hospital. He'd hung on while the lady at the other end checked the records, papers rustled dryly as she leafed through them next to the receiver on her desk. In the background, two women chatted excitedly about their holiday plans. Finally, she picked the phone up again.
"Hello, Doctor Ryan, are you still there?"
"Yes," he replied, rather wearily.
"Thanks for holding. Vera Flynn you said? I'm sorry we don't have a record of an appointment in that name."
"Thank you for your time." While waiting, he absent-mindedly doodled on his paper blotter and after he'd put the phone down, he examined the series of shapes, squares within squares, elaborate crosses and concentric circles that he'd drawn. They had no apparent meaning: he wondered what a psychiatrist might have made of them.
Besides psychiatry, his number one interest was the paranormal. When he first met Vera he hoped studying her in more depth might confirm some universal truths he suspected were common to all beliefs, pagan, conventional religion, or otherwise.
Initially, he didn't believe in God or any other supreme being, but what he found repeatedly was that the more
There hadn't been a note!
He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. What if it were true? What would that mean?
She seemed to read his mind.
"You were there this morning, it's why you were late . . . there was a note. It slipped under the bed off the bedside table, the draught from the door blew it there when the housekeeper went in to wake him. She found it after you left. Do you want to know what it said?"
The cold truth of what she was saying started goose bumps rising; a chill ran over him, and the hair on his arms stood up as if in an electrostatic parade.
"Will you tell me?"
Vera beckoned him closer. "Yes, but it's for your ears only."
Mrs Flynn looked fearful. She shook her head and said emphatically, "I'll not leave the room!"
He bent forward and inclined his head towards her. She leaned and whispered something in his ear.
What she said made him stand erect and incredulous. She gave him three predictions, and of those, one came true within the hour. The second would be confirmed in the not too distant future, while the third would remain a secret until the time was right to reveal it many years hence. She played her tongue suggestively across her lips, her green eyes shiny with unmistakable desire.
Mrs Flynn was outraged. She grabbed his bag, shoved it into his arms and ushered him out. "That's enough! What sort of doctor are you anyway!"
Ryan blustered, protesting.
Her finger pointed to the door. "Out!" She started moving towards him. He had the distinct impression if he didn't leave right away, she might help him on his way.
The sun came out beyond the confines of the room. Not visible outside the window, it didn't shine in directly, but the increase in light drew his attention to the painting. At the top was a tiny church with an illuminated cross. How did I not see that before? For no particular reason, he noted that the window faced north.
The business with Dr Robert and Mr Ryan's subsequent visit made Brenda Flynn's mind up for her. Vera's little predictions were becoming all too frequent and always coming true.
Keep her on the side of God, away from the Devil. After what she'd seen of her flirting with Ryan, it was time to act.
She reported Vera to the church and told them all that she knew of her devil's curse.
Chapter 11
Ryan had waited for three weeks for the results of Vera's blood test to arrive before he called the hospital. He'd hung on while the lady at the other end checked the records, papers rustled dryly as she leafed through them next to the receiver on her desk. In the background, two women chatted excitedly about their holiday plans. Finally, she picked the phone up again.
"Hello, Doctor Ryan, are you still there?"
"Yes," he replied, rather wearily.
"Thanks for holding. Vera Flynn you said? I'm sorry we don't have a record of an appointment in that name."
"Thank you for your time." While waiting, he absent-mindedly doodled on his paper blotter and after he'd put the phone down, he examined the series of shapes, squares within squares, elaborate crosses and concentric circles that he'd drawn. They had no apparent meaning: he wondered what a psychiatrist might have made of them.
Besides psychiatry, his number one interest was the paranormal. When he first met Vera he hoped studying her in more depth might confirm some universal truths he suspected were common to all beliefs, pagan, conventional religion, or otherwise.
Initially, he didn't believe in God or any other supreme being, but what he found repeatedly was that the more
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