Ellin Carsta [Carsta - A Distant Hope

ALSO BY ELLIN CARSTA

The Secret Healer

The Master of Medicine

The Drapers Daughter

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Text copyright 2018 by Ellin Carsta

Translation copyright 2019 by Gerald Chapple

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Previously published as Die ferne Hoffnung by Amazon Publishing in Germany in 2018. Translated from the German by Gerald Chapple. First published in English by AmazonCrossing in 2019.

Published by AmazonCrossing, Seattle

www.apub.com

Amazon, the Amazon logo, and AmazonCrossing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

ISBN-13: 9781542042284

ISBN-10: 1542042283

Cover design by Shasti OLeary Soudant

Cover photography by Richard Jenkins Photography

Contents

Prologue

Looking around the table and at the seemingly happy people chatting over that days dinner, he smiled contentedly. Though everyone lived in the villa, it was not a given that they would take their meals together. But today everyone was gathered in Peter Hansens honor: Georg and Robert, his two eldest sons, along with their wives and children, as well as Karl, his youngest son, who at twenty-nine still hadnt managed to find a wife, let alone start a familywhich caused Peter some worry. At times he thought maybe something wasnt quite right with Karl.

His gaze fell on fourteen-year-old Luise, his youngest granddaughter. He couldnt explain why Roberts second daughter was the dearest of his three granddaughters. He didnt quite know how to deal with her sister, Martha, two years her elder, or with Georgs daughter, Frederike, the same age as Martha. Even his grandson, Richardthe only male descendent so farwas for him merely his sons son. Richard was seventeen, and his parents wanted him to graduate from high school a year early. Hansen doubted his grandson could do it. He saw him as a young man lacking in ambition, who must certainly have some talents, though his grandfather was unable to discern what they might be.

Frederike and Martha resembled their respective mothers too much for his taste; the girls felt that their purpose in this world was to lead a comfortable life at the side of a wealthy husband who would support them financially.

His own wife, Marie, had been cut from a very different cloth. During their almost forty years of marriage, she had been more of a partner to him, until an illness spirited her away two years ago. Not a day had passed since then that he hadnt contemplated her meaningless death and his now equally meaningless life.

He surveyed the room again, only vaguely following the conversation. He put down his silverware, removed the linen napkin from his lap, and stood up holding it in his hand.

I would like to thank you again for finding time for me on this day. It means a great deal to me. Now, I ask you to excuse me. He laid the napkin on the table and walked slowly to the door. Passing Luise, he paused and gently stroked her cheek. His granddaughter smiled and nuzzled against his hand. A moment of indecision, and then he continued on his way.

He felt his familys questioning gaze as he closed the sliding door behind him. He calmly climbed the stairs to his study. After closing the door, he leaned against it for a moment and took a deep breath. He considered this room the most beautiful in the house. Marie had furnished it with her impeccable taste. If only she were here! Everything would have turned out differentlyof that he was certain.

He took out a sheet of paper printed with the company letterhead and laid it before him on the desk. Peter Hansen & Sons. Coffee Merchants since 1850. He smiled. The curved letters seemed but a wonderful, slowly fading memory. He picked up his fountain pen and searched in vain for the right words. Then he placed the pen on the sheet of paper, took a deep breath, and opened the bottom drawer. Taking out a mahogany box, he set it on his desk, closing the drawer before opening it. The pistol was cushioned on a bed of red velvet. It felt good to lift it and place it to his temple. He saw the loving face of his wife before him as he pulled the trigger. Peter Hansens life ended on his sixty-fifth birthdaywith a loud bang.

Chapter One

Hamburg, 1888

Shed lost track of the time. Mother would be frightfully angry. Luise hurriedly placed the bunny back in its hutch and closed the little wooden door. She came here more often since her grandfather died. She missed him so very much! She quickly wiped the rabbit hair from her pale-pink dress and brushed away the dirt its little paws had left. She really should wear an apron when she held the bunny. Her mother had scolded her often enough. She was sure to be punished, and not only because of her dress.

She threw a parting glance at the three rabbits. Only one of them was hers, the white one with black spots. Shed named it Caesar. The others belonged to Martha and Frederike. Grandfather had given them to the girls three years ago, cautioning them to take good care of the animals. Cousin Richard had received one as well, but after a few days, it was dead in its cage. Luise didnt know the cause of death. She would have cared for it; the other girls hadnt evinced the slightest interest in their responsibilities. Luise was grateful for the present and sincerely delighted with the rabbits, but the other two girls seemed to find them a burden.

Just a few days after making the gifts, their grandfather had summoned them to his study and warned them again, individually, to take seriously the responsibility they bore for the little creatures now in their hands. The next day Richards rabbit died. Luise was reluctant to connect the animals death with Grandfathers rebuke, which had obviously annoyed Richard. But if she was honest, she got chills remembering how Richard had delighted in the creatures sudden demise.

Luise ran as fast as she could along the path to the villa, gravel crunching beneath her soles. Then she tripped, twisted her ankle, and fell onto her knee. Pain shot through her whole body. She struggled to her feet and wiped the bloody cut on her knee. A bit of gravel was stuck in the wound; she picked it out, forcing herself not to scream or burst into tears. With a little spit on her finger, she tried to clean her knee, but the blood and spittle mixed with the dirt, making an even bigger mess. Luise felt sick to her stomach. Not from the pain or the blood, but because she knew what to expect from her mothers disciplinary measures, as they were called.

Luise thought about sneaking into the house and running to the bathroom. Maybe her mother wouldnt notice, and she could at least clean up her wound and make herself somewhat presentable. But she rejected the idea: it was too late to look like a proper girl from a good family, with her dirt-stained dress, her bloody knee, and her mussed hair. She could expect at least five afternoons under house arrest.