A Haunting Love

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17

Chapter Ten

Ramona's pronouncement that not only was Smith ... not Smith ... but he was their uncle struck both teens so dumb that the only sound anyone heard for most of thirty seconds was that of breath being drawn raggedly into lungs and then expelled.

Debbie managed to make the first noise. "But we don't have an uncle!" she gasped.

"Am I then a ghost?" asked Robert, smiling. "Perhaps one of the ghosts you say inhabit my house?"

There was, despite the emotion and uncertainty of the moment, a subtle shift in Debbie's thinking. Her rational brain accepted that this man was Robert Nettleton, whatever that meant. She didn't believe her mother would simply lie to her about that. While she didn't understand what that meant yet, her mind did accept that this was a Nettleton, and that he had the right to say it was "his" house.

"You're her brother?!" choked Robby.

Robert kept smiling and addressed Robby. "I am."

Ramona, after getting her last sentence out of her mouth, had been unable to go on. She hadn't been prepared to tell her children about Robert, much less about what she and Robert shared. But, during the silence and interchange between the children and Robert, she had thought frantically about his statement ... that Debbie and Robby had been kissing in the woods ... and what she had seen them doing as the bookcase was opened. She had thought about what that meant, and it allowed her to go on.

"Children," she started, her voice that of a mother. "My sweet darlings," she said, altering her voice to try to express the love and excitement that was welling in her chest. "I couldn't tell you about Robert. There were ... difficulties. I didn't tell you about so many things. I was worried that it would affect you badly. I have so much to tell you I don't know where to start."

"Nettleton!" said Debbie suddenly. "Robert Nettleton!" She looked at the man in awe. "You're the little boy ... your parents ... you found them ..." Her face filled with grief at what this man's memories must contain.

Robert's face didn't smile now. "Your grandparents. Yes, Rami and I found them. It was a bad time."

"No!" said Debbie just as suddenly. "Your sister's name was Elizabeth. We read it in the papers!"

"Papers?" asked Ramona, not understanding.

"Yes!" said Debbie. "At the library. They had old newspapers. They had stories in them about what happened. We read them," she said, looking wonderingly at her ... uncle." She looked at her mother, her face twisted with questions. "The papers said Robert and Elizabeth Nettleton. And your maiden name was Shanks." She shook her head, denying what she had been told in this room.

Robert held up his hand. "Be at peace child. We can explain all this to you."

"I'm not a child!" Debbie said, her anger sudden and hot.

"No," mused her uncle, looking at her in a way that made her feel uncomfortable. "I suppose you are not, at that." He smiled again. "You are a beautiful young woman. Please accept my apologies."

He stared at her a little longer. Then, "Your mother changed her name after the ... when we were in foster care. Things were very difficult for us then. People thought we carried some kind of curse. We were in boarding school for some years, and when we came back we didn't talk much about who she was."

Ramona joined in, having something now she could talk about.

"He didn't care. About our name, I mean. I wanted to forget everything. We went first to a place that was horrible, and they wouldn't let me see Robert. I hated that place. Then, suddenly they took us to live with a nice woman, who cared for us and loved us. She was so nice to us. But then she got sick and had to go away. Our new guardian was a cold man, and there were other children in the house who treated us badly. They called me names."

She trailed off, her face sad. Then she went on.

Even at the boarding school people looked at me strangely when they heard my real name. So when our guardian suggested that I take his name I agreed. Anything that would cause people not to stare at me I thought was a good thing. I began using my middle name too, Ramona, instead of Elizabeth. All I wanted was to be invisible ... to be left alone."

Debbie's heart was breaking at the story. She realized there were unshed tears in her eyes.

"Why didn't you ever tell us?" she asked. "Daddy never said anything either."

"I never told your father who I was," said their mother. "When we married and he brought me to our new home he had no idea it was next door to the place I hated more than anywhere else in the world. I couldn't tell him. He was so proud of our new home and we loved each other. Then, when you were so young he was taken from us. I blamed the house ... this house. Maybe we are cursed." She gave in a low cry.

"Nonsense!" said Robert. "Things happen in this big wide world. Some are good and some not. Life is what you make of it. You were happy with Richard, yes? And your wonderful children? Did they not make you gloriously happy?"

"Of course" said Ramona sitting up straighter. "They were my whole life."

"And all that happiness took place next to this house, did it not?" he pressed.

"Well, yes, but ..."

"That is why I came back here," he said. "I knew that I could find happiness here, near to you. And I knew that if, for some reason you were not happy, I could give you happiness." It was an egotistical statement to make ... the assumption that her happiness depended on him.

Yet, he spoke mere fact. Both of them remembered the only happiness they had experienced as they were growing up in a harsh world, the happiness they felt when they were together. And, while their sexual passion for each other was unbridled, that was not the primary reason for their happiness together. They shared so many things that no one else in the world could understand. Their bond had been forged with a heavy hammer, and they were welded together beyond anyone's ability to separate. To Ramona, his statement did not come as one of self importance.

Still, she had spent a long time alone, with only her children.

"You took your time coming back to make me so gloriously happy," she commented dryly.

He actually bowed to her. It was a movement that looked natural to him, as if he had been raised in an environment where bowing was normal.

"I wanted to come sooner, but could not. When you stopped writing I used some of my money to have men check on you." He smiled at her reaction to having been survielled without her knowledge. "I know, it was a terrible thing to do, but I had to know whether you were well or not. I lived in the most squalid conditions, with people who had only two sticks to rub together to make fire. When the reports came that you were doing well, I knew that those people needed me more than you did. When they were finally able to feed themselves, and had the knowledge to carry on, I came here instead of finding another destitute village. I found that I needed you, as much as I thought you might need me."

That speech brought back into the light what the children had peeked at those several times ... what they had been spying upon when they were caught.

"But ..." squeaked Debbie, "You're brother and sister!"

"As are you two," said Robert smoothly.

That caused both teens to blush and avert their eyes.

Ramona was thinking what they were thinking.

"How could this happen? Between you two I mean?" she asked.

"How did it happen between us?" asked Robert, looking at her intently.

"That was different. We were alone in the world. You gave me love and tenderness," she said.

"Is it so different for two children who have lost their father to accident, rather than crime?" asked her brother. "They have still lost their father, and are growing up alone in one sense. The world is just as harsh a place today as it was then. They have fared better, perhaps, but it has still been difficult for them."

He turned his eyes on the children.

Robby found his voice. He was amazed by all he had heard, and had been content just to listen. But now he spoke.

"Our lives have been wonderful," he said. "I hardly remember my father. We have no complaints at all!"

"This is wonderful for me to hear," said their newly discovered uncle. "Perhaps I have spent too many years with people who had to struggle every minute to make their lives bearable. I know I felt as if I were more blessed than possible when I saw what they had to live like day in and day out. Perhaps I am jaded."

"I still need you," said Ramona. She darted a glance at her children. While their lives might have been carefree, hers had not. She didn't know how to explain that to them without making it sound like they weren't worth everything she'd had to go through.

"You have to understand," she said to them. "I wouldn't change anything if it meant that you would disappear from my life. I love you more than life itself. But I have never loved a man like I love this man."

"Not even Daddy?" asked Debbie, who had only the vaguest fragmented memories of the man she had just named.

"I loved him," said Ramona firmly. "He loved me and saved my life. He gave me you two, and you saved my life when he was taken from us. It's hard for me to explain, but when we were little, Robert saved my life too. Without Robert I would have wasted away and died of a broken heart. I love him too, and I always will. I cannot change that."

"This is all so strange," said Debbie. She looked at the man who, until an hour ago she had called "Smith" and hated. Now she didn't know how to feel about him. She had a sudden thought.

"Then this is our house!" she yipped. She realized how that sounded and restated it. "I mean, our grandparents lived here, and you lived here, Mommy. That's your bedroom upstairs ... the one with the girl's things in it!" She looked at her uncle. "And the one with the toys! That one was your room!"

"How do you know all this?" cried her mother. She suddenly remembered them in the secret passageway. "How did you know about the secret places?"

That led to another hour of discussion and explanation as the children confessed to their countless trips to the house, how they'd found the bent place in the fence, and then the root cellar and its secret tunnel. They talked about the games they played. They left out the sexual games - that was still something they were uncomfortable discussing - but described how they had found things, and what they had thought of the things they found, and how they had felt at home here, like they belonged in this place.

"I never knew," said Ramona. "My own children, spending hours and hours here and I never knew!"

"We were afraid you would have forbidden us to come back if you ever caught us," said Debbie.

"You were right," said their mother firmly. "I would most certainly have done that. I can't believe you kept that secret from me!"

"Like you kept the secret of who that horrible bearded man was when he came to our house? When he ruined everything?" Debbie shot back. Then her head jerked as she realized what she'd said. "I mean it's not really ruined, I guess. But it was then." She got flustered.

"I always hoped that once this place was restored to its original condition that I might lure your mother and you to live here with me," said their uncle. "I hadn't planned on suggesting that until you had gotten to know me, but such is life."

And that led to another hour of discussion about why the disguises and subterfuge had all been necessary when Robert first came back ... was still necessary for another few weeks at least.

And that led to an attempt to discuss, on the part of the kids at least, where the money was coming from to do the extensive restoration that was going on. Neither of the teens was stupid, and they knew that it was going to cost more money than they could imagine to complete the task.

"Your Grandfather's fortune was passed on to us," said Robert simply.

"I don't know about you," said Debbie, "but we certainly don't have any fortune."

She looked at her mother, who was looking at her folded hands on top of the dining room table.

Ramona talked to her hands. "There are several other things I never told you."

And that led to Debbie attempting to grill her mother about money, at which point Robby stood up and said "I'm starving. Can't we get something to eat before we do any more talking?"

Debbie was obviously consumed with curiosity about the "Nettleton fortune", but Ramona stood up too.

"An excellent idea!" she said. "Be patient Debbie, we can talk about all this more later."

Debbie groaned and made much of being told to be "patient" again. She did, however, reflect for a moment on how much information she had gotten in the last few hours, and how many of her questions had been answered, albeit in an astonishing manner. So she clamped her jaws together and stood up too, at which time she realized she was also ravenous.

"Would it be all right if I invite your Uncle to dinner again?" Ramona asked. Her voice was neutral.

Both kids looked at each other. This wasn't anything even remotely like what they had expected when they wondered who Smith was, and it was all so new that they still didn't know how they felt about things yet. But he was their uncle, and their mother did love him.

"Of course," said Robby, speaking for both of them.

"We'll call for pizza," said Ramona. "When was the last time you had pizza Bobby?" she asked.

"I can't even remember," he grinned. "Must I wear my disguise, just to go next door?"

"You do and I won't speak to you," growled Debbie. But she smiled tentatively too. "I have more questions."

"I can't wait to give you answers," said her "new" uncle.

Ramona, who had driven her car to the house, found her briefcase and told the kids to come with her. Robert suggested that by going the secret way, he could get to the back of the house without being seen. He asked Robby and Debbie to go with him, and they immediately agreed.

Ramona said she'd get pizzas on the way.

The siblings and their uncle, who grabbed a flashlight, entered the passageway through the same bookcase they'd been uncovered behind, pulling it closed behind them. Then they led their uncle back down to the tunnel. The only thing they'd ever used for light was candles, and the flashlight made it seem both lighter where they were standing, and much darker where the light did not penetrate. When they got to the root cellar and Robby pushed the shelf/door open he commented on how amazing it was that a mere six year old boy could have opened the heavy door.

"There was a counterweight on it back then," said Robert. "And the hinges were oiled. It opened quite easily. I imagine the rope has broken over the years. I'll have to add that to my very long list of things to repair."

They led him up the stairs into the darkening evening, and then through the trees to the fence. They were surprised when he was able to fit through the fence too.'

"This opening must have been made by the men who killed your Grandparents," said Robert sadly. I saw it the other day, when I caught ... when I saw you two. But I didn't think anything of it then. From now on you may enter the estate through the gate. There are other smaller gates also, but all are chained and locked with rusty old locks."

"Are we really going to live in the manor?" asked Debbie.

Her uncle walked along for a few more steps before he spoke. "Nothing would please me more," he said. "But that is up to your mother. I have no claim to her, other than blood. She may not wish to give up the home in which you were raised. And the mansion has bad memories for her. I have laid those ghosts to rest, but I don't know if Rami will be able to do that."

Robby spoke, his voice surprisingly adult. "You really love her, don't you." It was more of a statement than a question.

Robert nodded. "I love her above all else. Were I destitute, the only thing I would crave is her love."

"But you're not destitute," said Debbie. "How much money do you have?" She couldn't resist asking and, as a mere teenager, she had not learned of the unwritten rules of society that frowned mightily on asking such a question.

Robert laughed. "I have a lot. Your mother probably has more. She has never touched her inheritance. I have spent some of mine."

"You didn't answer my question," said Debbie, stopping at the edge of the forest. "How much?"

"You will have to ask your mother that question," said her uncle with a gleam in his eye. "As I recall she wanted to wait to talk about that."

"Oooooo!" said a frustrated Debbie. "You two must be brother and sister! You're both driving me crazy!" She stomped off toward the house.

Robert and Robby watched her go. Both men watched her butt cheeks lift and drop as she strode along.

"She has so much passion. I think I am envious of you nephew," said Robert.

Robby shook his head slowly. He, like his uncle, was watching the rise and fall of Debbie's buttocks as she stomped across the yard. "You have no idea," he said. "But I think that's what makes her irresistible to me." He looked at his uncle. "I think I might be a little envious of you too," he said, ready to back up if things turned ugly.

"Your mother is a beautiful and passionate woman too," said Robert, completely unfazed at the idea that this boy might lust for his own mother. "I am the luckiest of men in the world." He grinned. "Except perhaps for you."

They hurried after Debbie, not so much because they were in a hurry, but because she was getting too far away to watch. She got in the door before them and slammed it behind her.

They found Debbie hounding her mother, who was setting out the fine china again, even though all they'd eat on it was pizza. Ramona, recovered somewhat from the ordeal she'd just been through, seemed to be ignoring her daughter. When the men came in Ramona turned to them.

"Take your uncle and show him the house," she said tersely. "And take your sister with you." It was apparent she was not as oblivious of Debbie's repeated attempts to find out how rich the family was as it had first seemed.

"Maaahm," came Debbie's drawn out moan.

"Go," said Ramona, unrepentant at her own obstinacy.

Debbie dragged her feet on the carpet as the men turned toward the hallway. She followed them silently as they went to Robby's room and various things Robby was proud of were pointed out. Then they showed him the bathroom and her mother's room. Robert stood in the middle of Ramona's bedroom and took in deep breaths.

"This place smells like my sister," he said smiling.

But when they got to Debbie's room she stood in the doorway, facing them.

"I'm still not sure I like you," she said, obviously still in a funk. "My room is private."

Robby rolled his eyes and started to move her by force, but his uncle stopped him.

"One must always respect a lady's boudoir" he said. "Perhaps one day I shall see it." He turned toward the living room. There was no place else to see in the modest house.

Robby shot his sister a dark look and then followed Robert. Debbie stood uncertainly in her doorway and then finally followed the men.

The arrival of the pizzas interrupted any attempt by Debbie to pick up where she'd left off. She didn't really know why she was so interested in how much money her uncle and mother had inherited. Had someone asked her what she'd buy if she had more money she'd have been hard pressed to come up with more than a few new outfits and perhaps her own stereo system. She was still too young to think about cars and college and things like that. Her needs were pretty well met already. But still, she wondered, and her stubborn nature made her pursue the answer.

Finally, when the boxes lay empty and grease-stained, and they all felt full enough that all they wanted to do was sit and rest, Robert leaned back and sighed.

"Now, what do you want to know?"

"How much money do we have?" Debbie promptly asked.

Ramona sighed.

"That money, the money that is in the bank, came from the death of my parents. They were murdered for that money. And we don't need it. We have everything we need already. I had thought a little about using some of it to send you two to college, but I have never wanted that money. It is blood money."

Debbie started to say something but her mother held up her hand.

"And, if you suddenly have a lot of money, it changes things. People treat you differently. They want some of your money. There are some who want all of your money. They don't care about you ... just the money. Even your friends will act differently toward you. They say things like, 'Well you have more than you need, so give me some.' And even if it is your money, to do with what you wish, if you do not give them some they feel like you have taken something from them. Money is not a bad thing, but the lust for money has caused more pain than all the wars in history. I don't want you two to have to face that pain."

Debbie thought about that for a minute. "Okay" she said finally. "So ... if we said we didn't want any of that money ... would you tell us how much there is?"

Robert laughed, a long, loud belly laugh. Debbie frowned at him, but he held up his hand.

"I'm sorry," he said. "It's just that it is very hard to 'not want' money when you know it is there. But there are ways. Let me ask you this. Are you thirsty?"

Debbie looked confused. "Thirsty?"

"Yes" said her uncle. "Are you thirsty for a drink of water right now?"

"No," said Debbie, still confused.

"But you will be thirsty some time in the future, yes?"

"Well of course," said Debbie. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

"Money is like that," said Robert. "At some point you become very thirsty. If water is scarce, then thirst is a horrible thing. But if you can just turn on the tap any time you wish then water means very little, yes?"

"It still means a lot if you're really thirsty," said Robby.

"True" said Robert. "But, most of the time, you don't think about the water in the faucet, yes? Only when you are thirsty."

Both kids nodded.

"Then, you must look at your money like it is water. When you have great thirst, it is good to have. But one must not think of it all the time and give it inflated importance. Do you understand this?"

Again both kids nodded. Debbie shook her head then. "But money isn't water. There's water everywhere. There's so much water that you couldn't drink it all. That's why you don't think about it all the time."

"And this money that you are so interested in," said Robert. "What if there were more of it than you could ever spend? Would you then lose some of your interest in it?"

Debbie blinked. "That would have to be a lot of money," she said.

"How much is a lot?" asked her uncle. "Hundreds? Thousands? Millions?"

Debbie looked uncomfortable. "I don't know. Millions I guess."

"And how many millions?" he pressed. "Just millions? Tens of millions? Hundreds of millions?"

Debbie looked shocked. "I think a million or two would be more than anybody could spend," she said. "I mean unless they bought stupid expensive things that they don't really need."

"Then, my beautiful niece, let me assure you that your mother has more money than you, and your brother, and any additional brothers and sisters that may come along could ever spend. Just think of it as if it were water."

The first thing Debbie thought of was what her uncle had said in the woods ... that her mother had more money than he did, because he had spent some of his and she had never touched hers. She looked at her Uncle.

"And you?" she asked again.

"The same," he said softly. "More than all of us could ever spend."

Debbie licked her lips and looked around.

"More than four million?" she asked.

"More than forty million," said her uncle.

Debbie's mouth hung open. "How?" she gasped.

Robert waved his hand. "The banks. They have kept our money, and used it and made money with it, paying us interest. The interest was added to what our parents left us and then they paid us interest on the interest. It is the way of banks. And it has been some thirty years they have done this."

Debbie couldn't breathe. "We're millionaires?" she squeaked.

"Many times over, my dear," said Robert.

"Wow," said a stunned Robby.

Ramona had to speak. "But we don't need millions to live. I like our life the way it is now." She darted a look at her brother. "And now that Robert is back in my life I love our life. We mustn't let money change things! It could ruin everything!"

"One can drown in very little water," said Robert, nodding.

"Bobby," said Ramona. "I thought you couldn't receive your trust unless you graduated from college."

He nodded. "When I was in East Africa there was a need for both expertise and money in the tribes I was working with. They were just establishing the Royal College in Nairobi, and I managed to get a degree in engineering through them. Officially it was awarded by the University of London, but it satisfied the prerequisites for obtaining access to my trust. It made a huge difference in the good I was able to do in the following years."

His bland statement led to questions from both teens about where he'd been, and what he'd done, and that led to questions about the people he'd met and what they'd been like.

Ramona sat and listened to her brother with a warm feeling. Just looking at him and hearing his voice made her feel good. The mantle clock chimed and she listened with half an ear until it reached ten melodious clangs.

"It's late" she announced suddenly, interrupting her brother's account of working with the Masai. He was talking about Kali, a Swahili word for the hot, spicy food he loved.

"We don't have anything to do tomorrow," objected Debbie. She and Robby both were completely enthralled by the stories their uncle had been telling them.

"Ah, hurul-ayni," he said to Debbie, "but I have much to do on the morrow, and need my rest," said their uncle.

"What does that mean?" asked Debbie, smiling.

"It is Swahili for 'beautiful maiden'" he said, bowing to her.

Debbie blushed, but grinned hugely too. Perhaps this strange man wasn't so bad after all.

"Okay" said Debbie, her face slightly flushed. "But you have to promise to tell us more stories later."

"You are, of course, welcome in my home ..." he looked at Ramona "Our home, as far as I am concerned, any time. Any time at all." Again he bowed to the children. He saw their look of amusement and added, "It is a habit I acquired in foreign lands. It soothes people. They are more willing to hear you when you bow."

"So," said Debbie cheekily, "You're trying to soothe us?"

"You have made your dislike for me clear," said Robert.

"Well ... yes," admitted Debbie. "But that was before we knew who you really were. I guess you're not so bad," she finished, unable to meet the eyes of the man she'd screamed her hate at.

"You have taken a huge weight from my shoulders," he said. "Perhaps some day I'll even be worth a hug."

The first thing Debbie thought of when he said the word "hug" was the hugs she'd seen her naked mother giving him, while he made passionate love to her. Debbie felt a rush of emotion that she wasn't able to categorize as being either good or bad.

"Yeah ... well, some day," she said carefully.

"Until then," he said, turning.

Something startling occured to Debbie suddenly and she turned to her mother. "Mom? Robert ... Robby? Is Robby named after ... him?"

Ramona nodded, her eyes turning to her brother, who finally looked startled.

"It was the only way I could have him near me at the time," she said. "Now, come. I'll take you home Bobby," said Ramona. "So you don't have to walk."

Robby barked a laugh, and when the adults looked at him he blushed. "Sorry" he said. "I was thinking of ... never mind," he finished, also unable to meet his mother's and uncle's eyes. He had been thinking that every time his mother went to the manor she ended up naked with a stiff prick buried in her.

Robert smiled. "Perhaps you want to come with us?" he offered in a gracious voice. "You can watch without having to hide behind the walls if that is what you were thinking."

"Bobby!" squealed Ramona. She reached out and slapped his arm.

Robby was so unnerved by his uncle's bland invitation to watch them have sex that he was momentarily lost for words. Finally he blurted out, "Maybe later." Then he turned even redder and lay his head on the table with a moan.

Robert laughed. "Yes, I imagine you would like to be alone too, eh?" he said with a chuckle.

Ramona turned around and pointed at her children. "You two don't do anything until I get home. We still have some things to talk about!"

Both kids just nodded, looking pale all of a sudden.

Ramona pushed her brother toward the door, still looking at her children.

"And I'll be right back!" she said firmly. She then berated her brother as they went through the door, telling him he was shameless and crude and ... The conversation, if it could be called that, was cut off by the door as it closed.

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