The Lost Diamond
A STRIP OF RED FLOWERS

Just a few minutes later, everything would change. While Rossy was playing a Chopin waltz, I saw in the dim light a woman descending the stairs. I had believed all along that we were alone! I tried to recall if I had said or done anything indiscreet, but I felt great relief when I realized I had restrained myself, that I hadn’t attempted to cross the line of temptation drawn by the beauty and sensuality of that girl. After all, we wouldn’t have been able to get very far with that woman upstairs.

Rossy was focused on her music. I stood up to avoid being impolite and attempted to greet the woman. She didn’t say a word, just stood by the piano and, perhaps enraptured by the music or affected by the low light, ignored me completely.

As the melody continued to fill the air with beauty, Rossy shared some interesting details about Chopin’s life when he composed that music. I was surprised to see her so dedicated to seducing me, so focused on me, and so indifferent to the presence of that woman. Whether it was her own mother or a maid, she should at least acknowledge her when she arrived. But no, Rossy kept talking about the music, about the first time she had performed Waltz No. 12 in F minor for piano in a concert. She said she had rehearsed it thousands of times but was so nervous that she made a mistake. She was only 10 years old.

“Can I confess something to you?” she asked me as she continued to play the piano very softly. “I told you earlier that I wasn’t afraid to be with you... Somehow, I am afraid now, very afraid, but it’s a fear I like.”

“I want to ask you something that might surprise you,” I said.

I felt that she was waiting for me to say some romantic phrase, to advance with words and actions towards the end of all this preparation of feminine beauty, seduction, candles, and piano music, and finally, we could drown in that ocean of passion we had been creating thanks to the complicity of candlelight and the early morning.

She stopped playing and looked at me, eagerly awaiting my next move.

“Could you describe your grandmother, the one you used to come to this cabin with often?” I asked.

She wrinkled her forehead; she definitely didn’t expect that question. Any romantic, sensual, or uncontrollable seduction atmosphere shattered like glass falling to the ground. I could see the surprised expression on her face.

“Who...?” she said, barely containing her anger.

“If you could describe your grandmother, the one you used to spend weekends with at this cabin,” I repeated.

Rossy loudly slammed the piano lid shut.... what a temper! The loud sound of the wood was a clear signal that an extraordinary romantic opportunity for me was also closing, that I had been very close, and that from then on, it would be almost impossible to repeat.

“My grandmother...? My grandmother...? Are you really asking me about my grandmother, right now, at this moment?” Clearly irritated, her face was flushed.

I nodded gently, trying to calm the wild side of so much beauty.

“I don’t know what to say... My grandmother was very sweet, very good to me. She enjoyed bringing me here and spending weekends alone with me, and I enjoyed being with her. She told me very lovely stories and cooked very well too. It was my grandmother who bought me this piano. She was a woman of great strength. My parents told me she went back to Denmark when I was seventeen and was traveling for a concert. We never saw her again. She didn’t say goodbye to me, which made me very sad.”

“Do you remember her? What did she look like physically?”

“She was a very elegant woman, blonde. Everyone said her face had baby-like features despite being almost eighty years old. She liked to wear her hair up, very, very elegant and feminine.”

“I’m asking you this because there’s a woman standing next to the piano, and I think it’s your grandmother. She’s looking at you as if enjoying seeing you play so well. Can you see her?”

“No...!” Rossy exclaimed, startled, looking around. “There’s no one here; it’s not true. Why are you saying this now? I don’t understand.”

“It’s just that I’m seeing her. She’s not looking at me, only in your direction. She hasn’t tried to interact with me at any point, not even now when she might know that I can see her.”

“It’s a lie, it’s a lie!” Rossy said, getting up. “Is this something you planned with Jorik? What’s the purpose? I don’t understand; what are you trying to achieve?”

“I’m surprised too, Rossy. Up until this moment, I had never had such a direct experience like this. I can hear voices and see spiritual beings in another dimension, but not something like this, in the physical realm. I don’t understand why she doesn’t talk to me.”

Rossy was stunned and kept shaking her head, as if denying what was happening.

“Maybe this can help,” I said. “The woman has something in her hands, I don’t know what it is; it looks like a gift or a package. No, it’s not a package; it’s a white pillow with a small strip of red flowers at the ends. She’s holding it in her hands. I don’t know what that means.”

Rossy returned to the piano bench, covered her face with both hands, and started crying. The woman beside her began to cry too, extending her hand and stroking the young woman’s blonde hair while holding the pillow in her other hand. They stayed like that for several minutes until I stopped seeing her. Only Rossy remained in the room, crying on the piano bench.

I sat in a corner near the fireplace, not knowing exactly what to do. Maybe it was better to let the girl cry as much as she needed. We had been awake all night, going through countless emotions from mockery and distrust at the beginning, then she was so happy, laughing, enjoying her music, and finally, that very special moment with tears. We were trying to make sense of what had happened.

“I was my grandmother’s spoiled granddaughter. She always told me that nothing made her happier than hearing me play the piano. If there was something she had denied to any of her children or grandchildren, she would have given it to me if I asked, anything.”

Rossy spoke calmly but with a voice broken by emotion; tears still rolled down her face. She paused, wiped her tears with the palm of her hand, and continued speaking.

I doubt that anyone else has been as close to Europa Roxanne Dainik as I was at that moment, so fragile, so vulnerable, so stripped of her tenth-degree aikido shell, so far from the femme fatale who speeds down mountain roads in her father’s Lamborghini, from the pianist who enchants with her concerts.

“There was a treasure my grandmother had that she never parted with. Wherever she went, it went with her. She could forget her jewelry, her clothes, or even her shoes, but no matter where she was, she always had her own pillow.”

This time she paused for a longer moment, struggling unsuccessfully to hold back tears. After many years, the memories of her beloved grandmother had returned unexpectedly and like a torrent.

“When I used to stay here overnight, she would come to my bed and give me her pillow so that I would have beautiful dreams. She would tell me that she wanted me to have beautiful dreams. Nothing made me feel more important in the world than sleeping with the scent of my grandmother’s pillow. She had several pillowcases for it, but they were all white with a strip of red flowers at each end, custom-made for her in a shop. No one else would remember that today; most of our relatives didn’t even know that she couldn’t sleep without her own pillow. Yet, she would give it to me when we were together. That’s how loving she was to me. I don’t believe in spirits or life after death, but when you told me she had that pillow in her hands, it left me powerless. Is she still here? Do you think I can talk to her?”

“No, she was crying by your side next to the piano, but I stopped seeing her. However, I must be honest with you; a vision like that is not good news. If your grandmother has passed away, she should have left this world by now. But if she’s still here, it’s because something went wrong, and I’m concerned about why she might be bothering your boyfriend. I told you I would replace an answer to this problem, and that’s what I must do. Most importantly, I don’t think it’s a good idea for the two of us to be alone here. Maybe it’s best if I come back when Jorik is here and personally see what’s wrong between them.”

“Jorik always wanted to sell this property, especially when my father put it in my name. He said his club would pay a very good price for it, and with that money, we could buy something closer to the city. I have my doubts; I prefer to keep it because I have many memories here. But now, with this problem where he sees strange things and says the cabin is haunted, I don’t know. Until today, I thought he was making it all up, but after what I just experienced, I’m very confused. It’s as if I have to choose between the cabin and my boyfriend.”

The morning had fully dawned, and the view of the lake was much more captivating in the morning sunlight. This cabin was a small and charming world within the world, and it seemed to have a magical aura after the unforgettable night we had left behind.

Although we were exhausted and very sleepy, both of us understood that it wasn’t a good idea to stay there. We returned to the city in her somewhat more modest sports Jaguar. She invited me to have breakfast at a café owned by one of her closest friends, an extraordinary place in her opinion, but I preferred to end that day once and for all. Soon, we would have to meet again in very different circumstances, without suspicion, without the need to call me a sorcerer, but with the curiosity to understand what was happening with her memories of the past and the doubts of the present.

Jorik van Fjömm, Rossy’s millionaire boyfriend, took four days to call me. Apparently, his stress-release therapy disguised as a business trip was working wonders. He informed me that his fiancé had told him everything that had happened in the cabin and that he would never return to that place, especially now that the presence of demons had been confirmed.

I tried to convince him, assuring him that there were no demons and that his life wasn’t in danger, but he adamantly refused. He reminded me that the old woman he had seen from the bed was hideous and malevolent, and that he had had two or three nightmares after that, each more terrifying than the last.

We continued discussing what I planned to do to remedy the situation, and I stressed the importance of him being there to help me understand why that woman was haunting him. He refused three times, until he finally revealed a secret he had promised not to disclose. He and Rossy had decided to take a break from their relationship and spend some time analyzing what was best for both.

To show that he genuinely wanted to help in this situation, he had committed to using The Club’s funds to buy the cabin. He told me that if there was no change, it made no sense to continue investing in a relationship that relegated him to a secondary position behind a piece of property, something which he found humiliating. His decision had put his now ex-girlfriend in a very compromising situation; if she wanted to continue with him, she would have to sell the cabin, most likely to the fencing club. This didn’t look good at all.

Perhaps I was mistaken, but I sensed that I was used to giving Jorik what he needed. He had employed the, let’s call it, highly unorthodox excuse of a haunted castle to try to acquire one of the best properties in the mountains at an affordable price and bought on favorable terms that a love-struck woman could offer her boyfriend. I would collect my fees for having seen, or rather claimed to have seen, a tormenting ghost of boyfriends, and The Club would gain a new and beautiful property to offer it select members. A business in which apparently everyone wins... everyone except Rossy. She would lose her cabin, her memories, and who knows, maybe even her boyfriend once the deals were closed.

All these conflicting thoughts were at odds with my way of working. Furthermore, both Rossy and her family would likely have capable lawyers who wouldn’t fall for a passing romance. Moreover, being a very intelligent woman, she would realize if someone was trying to take advantage, even if it was her boyfriend. I shouldn’t worry about anything other than my job, something that I still hadn’t finished.