by Katie Allen

Julia stood at the door of her room, suitcase at her feet. She looked around the room that had been her home for so long. She was leaving it, never to return. Liz and the others had been kind, "Please, always consider this your home. Come often to visit us."

To which Julia had replied, "I will. I promise to come. As often as I can."

But they knew as well as she did, that she would never come back. The room was as empty now of her personality, as it had been on the day she first arrived. A hint of her perfume lingered on the air, but once Mrs. Johnson used her lemon polish on the furniture, even that would be gone. Julia picked up her small suitcase, containing a change of clothes, a nightgown and her diaries of the last few years. Everything else was picked up yesterday; the barrel for storage until she called for it, the suitcases for the airport, tagged and ready to be loaded on to the plane heading to England.

She turned off the light, pitching the room into darkness, for the sun was not quite up. Then she closed the door as she left the room. She checked her watch; the cab wasn't due for a while. As she had planned it, no one knew she was leaving so early or would be up to say good-bye. She had said her good-byes to the family last night. Now it was time to say good-bye to the house. She walked through the halls, making no sound, as if she were already the memory she was about to become. She opened the door where the playroom had appeared, but it was only a closet. She looked for Quentin's staircase, but it was gone. Portraits of stern-faced Collins’ watched with disinterest, as she peeked into rooms bidding the house and the life she led at Collinwood goodbye.

Julia opened another door, and stood at the doorway which had taken her to a parallel time. The room was empty, barren. She would miss the adventures she and Barnabas shared almost as much as she would Barnabas himself. She allowed her thoughts drift back.

When they had taken Quentin's staircase back to the present, she clung to her hopes. Barnabas was now a mortal man, and she thought he would put the past behind him. Once again as Barnabas grieved over a life he could not have, Julia comforted him. After a few months, he resigned himself to a future without Angelique, and decided to go on with his life. Julia and he had never been closer, and she was not surprised when he began to talk about their marrying. Julia couldn't remember ever being so happy. And then one day she arrived at the Old House and Angelique answered the door.

"Why sister. Say you are pleased to see me." She smiled.

Barnabas was behind Angelique, happiness in his face. "Julia! Angelique is alive."

Julia tried to get Barnabas alone, and when she finally succeeded the news was not what she wanted to hear.

Barnabas was not unkind, but firm. "You are not to come here anymore, must not see me alone. Our friendship, our relationship, hurts Angelique. So it must change. She and I are going to be married."

"Barnabas, think about it. How did she get here? Can you trust her?"

Barnabas' eyes were sad, as he took Julia's hand. "I won't talk about Angelique to you. Not any more. It's not fair to her or you. Julia, you know I will always care for you, always love you. How could I not? You were my best friend, at times my only friend, my conscience, my hope. I owe you my life. If things were different that love would have been enough." Barnabas shook his head. "But things are as they are. Angelique and I have a bond that is so much more than love. You know this is true."

Julia nodded. She was too stunned to think, to talk.

"I'll say good-bye. I'm sorry this happened the way it did. I hope that one day you will forgive me. Go on with your life, Julia. Find a man who is not burdened with the past."

Julia left without saying good-bye, feeling as if she had been torn in two.

As she left the house, wanting only to get away, a voice stopped her. "Julia, a moment please."

Julia turned. It was Angelique. She looked appraisingly at Julia. "I see he has told you the good news."

Julia drew from strength she did not know she had and looked coolly back at Angelique. "You don't expect me to congratulate you."

Angelique smiled. "No. But I do expect you to go."

Julia swallowed the lump in her throat. "So I've been told."

Angelique circled Julia, making her uneasy. "Not just from this house. You are not a sister to him in this time. I won't have you mooning after him. These people here are not your family. It's time you go."

"Is that a threat?" Julia looked speculatively at Angelique. "How did you get here to this time?"

Angelique laughed. "I haven't bewitched Barnabas. Believe me, I have no magical powers. Or don't believe me, it matters little what you think. You cannot come between us. Stay if you want. Watch as Barnabas and I marry, have children, and grow old together. Hurt yourself again and again." Angelique lost her spite, and her face grew compassionate. "I am sorry. I am as jealous of you, as you are of me. This is why you must go. If you stay we will destroy each other, and Barnabas too. He feels guilty about you. I wish he didn't care about you, but he does. I beg you Julia. I can understand that my happiness means nothing to you, but if you want him to be happy, please go."

Julia believed Angelique was earnest in her plea for Julia to allow them their happiness. For the first time Julia believed Angelique was telling the truth about no longer being a witch. She didn't have that kind of magic over Barnabas. But that knowledge brought pain. Angelique was right, she would have to go.

When Julia got back to Collinwood, she found Willie waiting for her outside. "Not now, Willie. Please not now." Julia said, wanting to be alone.

"Julia. Please. She just came to the door. Barnabas said she explained how she got her, but he wouldn't tell me what she said. Just that it wasn't important as long as he believed her. Julia I'm worried. He's not thinking. We've got to stop him."

"Willie, there's nothing we can do. They are going to be married." Trying to move past him, Julia said, "I've got things to do."

Willie stopped her. "I know you probably don't want to talk about it, but what will you do now? You will stay on at Collinwood, won't you?"

"No. I'll be leaving after the wedding."

"But what if Barnabas needs you? What if Angelique hasn't changed? You love him. How can you go?"

"How can I stay?" Julia took a deep breath, calming herself. "Whatever Angelique is, or will be..." Julia sighed and put a hand on Willie's arm. "You don't understand. Barnabas doesn't want me. I've got to go, if I am to have any peace." Julia entered Collinwood, leaving Willie, unhappy, on its doorstep.

Julia came back to the present. Last week they married. She smiled and toasted them with the rest of the family. Angelique was right. To stay would be to hurt herself, again and again.

For the first time since she had met him, Barnabas was completely happy, maybe for the first time in his life. Watching Barnabas' happiness only increased her own unhappiness, and yet she couldn't stop watching. The way his face lit up when Angelique entered the room, the little things like hands touching, and eyes exchanging glances, all felt like knives piercing her heart. When Julia announced she had given up her position at Wyndcliff, and would be traveling through Europe, a grateful Angelique, included her in their plans and parties. She could afford to be generous, and Julia in an attempt to save face, helped out to show the others she was happy for the couple. And out of love and pity her friends pretended to believe that lie.

She was leaving Collinwood. It was the right thing to do. Barnabas was happy, the family at Collinwood was happy. Maybe she was the only one left shadowed by the curse of unhappiness here, and when she went all unhappiness would go with her.

Suddenly the room before her changed subtly. At first she thought her lack of sleep was causing a distortion of her vision, then she realized the room had changed. A man was in the room. It was Barnabas. No it wasn't. The hair was cut differently, and the clothes were of a type that she had never seen him wear, a turtleneck shirt and casual slacks. The man leaned against the fireplace in despair, and groaned, "Julia."

To Be Continued

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