Ugly Girl
Copyright© 2026 by Han Jansz. van Meegeren
20. Liberation Follows the Surmounting of Grief
In the end, Ciaran was the one who called Sandor. And true to his word, he was with us in Scotland within 24 hours.
Jutta wasn’t with him, much to Sylvia’s disappointment. She had surely been expecting her arrival.
As before, the welcome was a man’s affair. They both walked into the woods without even looking at us. I apologised to Sylvia for this. After all, it was her son who completely ignored her and took off with a complete stranger.
“He is teaching young Ciaran another lesson: we are responsible for them, and when we have settled things amongst ourselves, they come into the picture and not before.”
To me, it was still the height of rudeness, but if they thought this was normal, who was I to judge?
“Do you think Jutta refused to come with him because she didn’t want me?” Sylvia asked, her small voice sounding uncertain, which was unusual for her.
“The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind,” I said honestly. “Of course she wants you, no doubt about it.”
We waited impatiently outside for them to return. The wait was long. We said little. We already said the most important things to each other, I think. Finally, they came our way. From a distance, they could easily be father and son. I was deeply thankful to Sandor for taking such good care of Ciaran.
“Good afternoon, Girl and Auntie Zuzanna. You both look well.” He smiled. “Do you mind if I talk alone to Girl here for a moment? Please cover your ears with your hands.” The last part wasn’t a request; it was an order. I automatically looked at Ciaran, who nodded in agreement. I closed my eyes and covered my ears. The chain on my left wrist rattled softly. I think it was one of the last times I’d hear that. After that, all I could hear was Sandor’s muffled, deep voice in the distance. After a few minutes, I felt Sylvia’s hand on my thigh. Sandor and Ciaran had disappeared. Sylvia looked as if she’d won the Scottish lottery.
“Sandor is willing to let Jutta go, and for now, we can stay in the living quarters of Club Kinky Kinta, which they’ve built in the barn. It seems to have turned out nicely. It’s always been Jutta’s dream to live in the club again. Besides, it’s on the same property as the house, so she’s also very close to Ilse. Ilse is three months pregnant with her first child, so she’ll be a grandmother.”
That was it. They lived happily ever after. With a sudden movement, I pushed Sylvia against the wall, my right hand tightening around her throat.
“Consider yourself released, but be warned: any stupid move you make will lead to me coming back to end what you intended to do. Tell Jutta that from now on, she’ll be responsible for you. Should she falter for even a second, I’ll not only be at your funeral, but her life will also be over the next day. That’s not a threat; it’s a promise.”
I let her go and strode into the living room, practically dragging Sylvia along behind me. I sat down on the floor at Ciaran’s feet. Syl sank down beside me. I took a deep breath. Beethoven’s Fifth played in my head. Ta Ta Ta Taaaaammm, Ta Ta Ta Taaaaammm. Three fast, and hold the last bar for three seconds. My cuff clicked open immediately, just as Master Ricardo had promised. I repeated the bars on Sylvia’s cuff. Sylvia and I were separated. It didn’t feel liberating. It felt like a loss. The ugly girl had been fine for a while, but now it was time to reconnect with the beautiful girl.
It was too much. I was only human. Without looking at what I’d knocked over, I got up and ran outside. I didn’t want to cry in front of Sylvia. But once outside, everything came rushing out at once. Sadness. Jealousy. Loneliness. Suddenly, I felt so very alone. I heard Ciaran coming up behind me. I braced myself for his fake, deep, masterful voice. But it didn’t come. He wordlessly wrapped a blanket around me and pulled me in tight. Soothing words in my ear. Every bit of self-control I possessed up to that point evaporated. I started walking away. Ciaran put his arm around me. My whimpers must have been audible inside, and I didn’t want Sylvia to feel guilty about wanting to leave. It was her perfect right to choose her own path. I think the chance of Sylvia harming herself again was very slim. It is finished. I’ve done my job.
We returned to the house. Sylvia looked at me with red, tearful eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
I made a dismissive gesture. “Nonsense. It’s time to walk on your own again.”
I turned to Sandor. “Master Sandor, I understand congratulations are in order. How wonderful for you both.”
For a few moments, Master Sandor passed for Sandor, the new father. “Thank you. Will you be alright?”
“Of course, I have Master Ciaran to take care of me.” I gazed with affection at Ciaran, who seemed a bit bashful.
They had to leave that evening. Sandor had dropped all his work and come straight to us. He had an important meeting tomorrow afternoon that he had to attend. Ciaran had to go to work as well. Before they left, Sandor and Ciaran seemed to have a man-to-man conversation outside. Sylvia’s belongings fit in a large travel bag. We could always bring her anything else she might need later.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.