The Ghostly Past

Chapter 35

She hadn't known what to expect from the painting. Was she expecting to see Leo's face? If so, she was disappointed. It was a man she had never seen before, a dark haired man in uniform, posing, his family coat of arms on his sweeping cloak, his beard trimmed neatly, dark eyes watching her intensely from within the frame.

"What you expected?" Elias asked her.

"Yes and no." Clara murmured. Strange as it sounded, he did feel familiar. But was that because she expected him to? "I almost feel like I know him."

"It's strange like that with research subjects, even long dead ones." He laughed. "You study someone for so long, they start to feel like family."

He promised to take her to see the other portraits another day. Parting ways, Clara headed back across to Sliema and the hotel, intrigued but slightly disappointed. All of the information had been interesting, but there was nothing that gave her more insight into why the curse happened or how it could be broken.

Harriet dragged her to the pool that afternoon, and they drank cocktails on sun loungers, gazing out at the spectacular view of the sea, whilst occasionally slipping into the crystalline waters to cool off.

"So what's tomorrow's plan then?" Harriet asked. "I'm supposed to be singing in a church first thing in the morning in somewhere called Mosta?"

"I'll come with you. Moral support." Clara smiled.

"Sounds good." Harriet paused. "You make any headway in your research?"

"I hit a bit of a brick wall actually." Clara sighed. "I'm thinking of visiting Mdina, the old capital if you want to join me. We could go together, catch a bus after you've sang?"

So they did. She sat in an attentive audience, watching her friend sing a few Italian arias to much applause, her voice ringing out pure and strong in the splendid acoustics of the ancient church. Afterwards, they caught a local bus, relishing the air conditioning as they weaved their way up to the walled town.

It was known as the Silent City, a place where no cars except those few of the residents were permitted to enter. It was like stepping back in time, as the pair crossed the bridge in the long procession of tourists, hearing the clatter of hooves and clang of bells as horses and carts passed them by.

The enclosed Medieval town was a strange place, filled with narrow streets and alleyways, so quiet and relaxed once one escaped the main tourist traps. The architecture was a mixture, Norman and Baroque influences melding together, historical palaces now serving as private residences.

Clara and Harriet allowed themselves to be carried along in the tide of people, Harriet's camera clicking with each photo she took.

"Mdina was first inhabited and fortified by the Phoenicians in around 700 BC." A tour guide was explaining. "At the time it was known as Maleth. It is the highest natural point of the country, and roughly in the centre. During the time of the Roman Empire, the Roman governor had his palace here. In 1693, an earthquake badly damaged the city, and much of it was rebuilt."

"It's gorgeous." Harriet murmured, adjusting her sunglasses.

It was beautiful, Clara acknowledged. It was also profoundly familiar, and she just couldn't put her finger on why. As they rounded the corner, something in her mind told her there would be a cathedral at the end of a large square.

"Oh wow." Harriet grinned, taking photos again.

Clara frowned. It somehow wasn't right. The square was as she remembered it, but the cathedral, though beautiful and impressive in its baroque facade, was not what she remembered. Then the thought struck her as absurd. She'd never been to Malta before. How could she remember it?