Vampire Agent (English Version)

Chapter 15

Widow

I was a little surprised that it was a house and not a hotel, but didn't lose a word about it and followed him silently.
"It's the house of an acquaintance. I don't believe in hotels," Jonas explained, even though I hadn't asked. I looked around the area.
I had not been here before, however, it looked like any other small street in England. Houses with simple facades, small paved front yards with stairs leading to what I thought was the laundry room, and ugly walls with fences in front. Jonas had simply opened the gate and now went to the door to unlock it. I didn't even question why he had access to an acquaintance's house.
"The upstairs is kept free by her, in case of a convention," he went on to explain, as if I cared.
I still didn't reply anything. I just wanted a bed and my rest.
"There is a bed and a sofa bed." he informed me and let me in, "Where do you want to sleep?" he then asked. I looked at him sullenly.
"I couldn't care less," I mumbled as I then walked past him. He closed the door without saying anything back.
"Go ahead and look around if you want," he instructed me, gesturing into the house as he took off his coat.
It was a cozy little house with country style furniture. Even with half-height wood paneling and ugly wallpaper. Just typically English somehow.
I took a quick look around. Small kitchen, semi-open to the dining room, a guest bathroom and a living room in the front of the house.
No weapons, except for the knife block on the sideboard.
I assumed if you went past the stairs and further into the interior of the house, there was at least one more bedroom.
All in all, small rooms. And with this set up, it seemed even more cramped than it probably was. But nothing that made you suspect there was a torture cellar, so I went upstairs and looked at the rooms there as well.
There was a sort of lounge, a large bathroom, and a bedroom. In the common room there was a piano, a desk with a computer, and the folding sofa Jonas mentioned earlier.
I looked at the instrument and thought.
How long had it been since I had played?
Certainly not in fifty years.
I convinced myself that Jonas was still downstairs and went over to press a few keys.
Remembering that Mozart and Beethoven had been high in those days, I expressionlessly played the first few bars of the Moonlight Sonata. It had been a really long time.
"I thought you didn't have any big hobbies?", I heard Jonas' voice from the doorway.
"It's not a hobby either.", I grumbled quietly, stopping immediately and shoving my hands into my pockets.
"Where do you want to sleep?" he then asked me after a moment's hesitation. I pointed my chin at the sofa. He nodded, also with his hands in his pants pockets, and didn't move.
"...Are you okay?" he then asked me after a long hesitation.
"Is the question serious?", I asked, looking at him annoyed.
"If we were in the company, no. But now that it's just us, it is," he said, looking like he had no intention of leaving before he had an answer.
"I have reasons for not wanting to go back to England, and especially not to London. That you dragged me here against my will anyway I really resent. Apart from that, I'm still sick to my stomach and tired as hell," I said truthfully, my eyes fixed on the floor with my teeth clenched. Jonas was silent for a moment. 
"Widow, honestly, what else is so bad about the city today?" he asked me. 
I remained silent. 
The reminder. 
"Like I said, I have my reasons," I then muttered. 
"If you don't tell me..."
"Bullshit. Just go crash.", I snapped at him now.
Next thing I knew he would have said he couldn't help me like that.
But I didn't want his fucking help at all.
He stood in the doorway for some more time, then nodded and turned away with a muttered, "Good night, then." 
As soon as he had disappeared into the bedroom, I also closed the room door and within a very short time I was lying on the sofa and had also fallen asleep.
A few hours later I woke up drenched in sweat. 
A nightmare filled with painful memories. 
Restlessly, I sat up and rubbed my face tiredly. 
I gave up on it. 
This was now the third time I had awakened through this dream this night. I got up and opened the door of the room a crack. 
Jonas' door was open and he was snoring quite loudly. With a sigh, I wondered if I could risk a quick breath of fresh air. In principle, there was nothing to be said against it.
Quietly I put on my cardigan, took my shoes under my arm and crept downstairs.
I grabbed the front door key and out of the corner of my eye I saw something I could use right now. A pack of cigarettes. 
I looked for a lighter and put both together. 
Smoking couldn't kill me, ergo I could afford a few cigarettes. I checked one last time to see if Jonas' snoring could still be heard. Then I went out and followed the road for the time being.  
I glanced at the street signs and realized that I knew the area after all. Britannia Road... A crematorium was to be built near here at that time. The plan made the rounds big time.
Another thought that made me uncomfortable was that Norman was buried in the surrounding cemetery. 
Instantly, I grabbed a cigarette and lit it. 
I took a deep drag and closed my eyes for a moment. I didn't even know if his grave was still there or if they had re-leased it in the meantime. 
A guilty conscience plagued me. He had been more than a colleague and actually I should have taken care that it was preserved. 
But I had not managed to get over myself and return here. 
I took another drag on the cigarette and walked back and forth a few times at the end of the street, my gaze directed toward the cemetery. 
Should I go check it out? 
My stomach cramped at the thought, but my feet carried me there almost automatically. 
It was not closed off and without looking up I found my way to the place where he was buried at that time. I took a breath and then looked up. 
I stared at the old stone. 
The grave was overgrown and the stone looked worn, but Norman's name was still legible.