Subj: Consequences of Falling ch. 49
Date: 8/5/01 7:59:45 PM Central Daylight Time
From: Nicole

November 2000, 4:00 PM

Constance stared outside the airplane window, watching as the ground became clearer during descent. She was returning from Italy. She had finished playing European concert halls a month earlier. She had remained behind to search for Quentin, checking their old haunts to see if he had been there. He could not be found...at least in the flesh.

Constance almost always felt Quentin around her. First, she would hear his waltz begin to take over the room, filling the enclosure until she could hear nothing else. Then Constance would feel him around her, touching and speaking to her as if he had never left his body. She knew not to ask him when he would be flesh again because he knew no more than she did. Constance learned to merely enjoy his company, to enjoy his still pleasing touch even if it was spectral. The only problem arose when he decided to come to her while she was in public. No one else could hear the music or feel his presence, but they could see the affect Quentin had on her. While they had been together, Quentin had had the odd habit of kissing her neck while Constance was talking with someone, testing to see how long she would take before kicking his shins. Apparently astral Quentin enjoyed this too. No matter who Constance was talking to, Quentin would wrap his phantom arms around her waist and caress her neck, only stopping when she would say "Enough Quentin." This happened often enough for the press to speculate about her sanity based on her conversations with her imaginary friend.

Constance did not care. She had never been much of a media's darling, be it as Constance DuVane or her latest 7-year manifestation. She knew that people would say what they wanted and that there was no use arguing with the opinions of others. People still traveled for miles o hear her play piano and reviewers continued to rave about her talent. Most of these people attributed her skill her her "lineage." If they only knew!

"Ms Douglas?" Constance looked next to her to see a petite red-headed girl who could not have been more than fifteen. In her hands she held a small blue book and a black pen. "I don't mean to bother you," she said in her baby's voice, "but I was wondering if you would sign my..."

"Sure hon." Constance watched as the girl enthusiastically fumbled to a blank page and handed her the book. "What's your name."

"Elise."

"Lovely name." Constance signed it simply "To Elise...Astrid Douglas." She handed the book back to the girl, happy to see her pleased expression. Signing autographs had become an exercise in remembering her new name. As far as anyone knew, Constance DuVane was dead. As far as anyone was concerned, she was Astrid Douglas, only child of Constance DuVane and Grant Douglas. The last 7 years had given Constance a healthy respect for both Barnabas and Quentin. Pretending to be your own descendent looked easier than it was in actuality.

As she left the plane, Constance slipped on her black sunglasses. She more or less liked the look of it, the jet-seeing chick on a mission. She like glancing through the crowd with moderate anonymity. She never saw anyone she noticed, which was for the better. If she had seen Quentin, she would have flown past all security blocks to reach him. Had she seen Josef, she would have pounded his skull into the wall until she heard it crack. Avery's punishment had recently gone into full affect and seemed to be going rather nicely. She thought it was time for Josef to receive his just deserts.

After going through security, Constance left the airport for the car she knew awaited her. The driver opened the door to the black limousine. Angelique sat in the back, a briefcase opened on her lap. Constance crawled inside and motioned for the driver to move once he re-entered the car. "Did you get the papers I asked for?"

"Of course," said Angelique as she handed the papers to Constance. "Why do you need medical credentials?"

"I'll need them to move freely around Windcliffe."

"Why are you going to Windcliffe."

"I have to talk to Chris Jennings," explained Constance.

"What good will it do you?" asked Angelique.

"I have to know how his conditioned as progressed. Julia has been watching him for the past 10 years. She used to give me reports on his conditions. She hasn't done so in the past 4 months. I need to know what's going on."

"You're not going to like what you find out," said Angelique.

"Why?" Angelique handed Constance a letter:

"By the time you read this, I will be gone. All has been prepared. Julia Hoffman-Collins"

"When did you receive this?" demanded Constance.

"2 months ago," said Angelique. "It wasn't addressed specifically to either of us. I thought of calling you but i knew it wouldn't help you to hear it."

Constance sank back into the seat, staring intently on the note. "How did she know that she would die? She's said nothing to me before about being ill."

"She probably didn't want to worry you," said Angelique.

"But this doesn't feel right."

Angelique fell back into her seat and sighed. "I have to agree with you. So I suppose we're off to Collinsport?"

"Well, I was going there anyway," said Constance. "Why not? It's been years since I've seen Barnabas. I've missed feeling like I was two inches tall."

Dark Shadows is a Dan Curtis Production.