Raven's Heir | ONC 2021 honourable mention

13 - Theo's story

"Lorraine was in her last month of pregnancy when I left for a business trip." Theo turned on his heel and continued his pacing. "I am—I was an architect and had finally found a job in a renowned firm. Not an easy feat after years wasted in the war. We hoped to win a major project in Bruxelles." He stopped by the tiled stove and turned towards us, arms crossed. I had no problem believing he was an architect, and it explained his preference for black turtlenecks.

"My plan was to ride the next train home when the contracts were signed, but then a message from Lorraine reached me in my hotel. She was in premature labour, and I cut the trip short, dropping everything to get back. If only..." He trailed off, a longing expression on his face.

"What happened?" Matt had overcome his former nervousness and leaned forward, his gaze glued to our partner.

"My client suggested flying. Europe was still recovering from the war, and it would be much faster than a train. There was a place available on the Sabena flight from Bruxelles to London where I'd get a connection to Zurich. A few hours instead of several days. When I boarded the Dakota in the afternoon, the weather was awful and got worse over England. Night fell, and we had fog during the approach to Heathrow. The last thing I remember is the plane lurching, dipping forward, and then the hard impact before an inferno consumed us."

Matt called up a search engine on his pad, his nimble fingers scrolling through the results. "I got it. Douglas DC-3C OO-AWH of Sabena airlines, crashed in Heathrow, on the second of March 1948. All but two of the three crew and nineteen passengers were killed. Two airfield workers pulled a few persons out of the fire, and—oh." I stepped up to study the list of victims over his shoulder. It mentioned one Swiss passenger.

I glanced from the screen to Theo, who seemed shaky, and nodded. "Yes, that sounds right. My last impressions were screams, blistering heat, and in the end, nothing."

"Hm-hm." The husky voice from behind me made me whirl around. Sir Guillaume entered the library through a bookshelf and bowed from the hip, his usual smile curving his lips. "Good evening, my lady, gentlemen. I couldn't help but overhear your discussion of matters that might concern me." He strutted around the coffee table and studied Matt's ashen face. "Are you ill, young man? For a living person, your complexion matches my long-lost scion very much."

Worried for Matt, I sat down beside him and squeezed his shivering shoulders. "Matt? I'd like to introduce you to Guillaume de Corbières."

"Um." He straightened his back to acknowledge our guest with a nod but didn't move from my side. "Nice to meet you, Sir Guillaume."

"The pleasure is mine, I assure you. But now, back to business. Why did you turn up here decades after your death, Theo Matran?"

"To find my beloved Lorraine, I guess." Theo frowned and took up his restless pacing. "Although I can't remember a thing between my death on that British airfield and the moment I studied the ad for the job as a ghost hunter, I think."

I found it hard to imagine he never asked himself who he was and why he came here.

"So you applied for the job and came to the interview, just like that?" I snapped my fingers. "Didn't you feel odd, out of place, or something?"

"No, I was focused, driven by a pressing urge to be here, in Corbières. None of you asked me personal questions, so I don't even know if I remembered anything from my past life, I didn't dwell on it." He had a point, there. Matt, Lou and I had taken him for granted and been reluctant to talk about our background.

Still walking back and forth like a caged tiger, Theo shrugged. "It never occurred to me that something was amiss until we left the castle earlier today."