"How did today go?" Paul had dreaded the question the entire trip home, but he took a deep breath and was about to give his father some bland response when his father looked at him with an intensity he had never seen before and said: "Tell me."
Paul stared at his father for a few moments, how had he known?
"Something...happened," he began, "I'm not entirely sure it wasn't all a dream," he added, attempting to laugh it off.
One look at his father's stony expression caused his own to turn serious once more, "The woman was there again. We were in the ballroom and suddenly music started to play, I couldn't tell where it came from and fortunately no one was harmed by it. But the woman...she went into some kind of trance, the music stopped the moment she came out of it," Paul was startled as his father abruptly dropped the pot on the stove and grabbed him by the wrist, dragging him behind him up the stairs.
"Just tell me one thing, Paul," he said as he rummaged about in his cupboard, finally pulling out the folio he had been examining a few nights earlier. "Did she look like this?" he asked, opening the folio to reveal a sketch of a young woman with dark hair and large eyes.
Paul examined the portrait before nodding slowly, "Yes, older, but that's her," he replied thoughtfully, "where did you get these?" he asked, realising there were more pictures.
His father merely took the portrait off him and shut the folio, "Who is she?"
His father barely spared him a glance as he put the folio away, "Someone from the past," he said, "but if she's here and going there of all places we could have a problem."
To say that Paul was confused by his father's behaviour would be an understatement, "Going where? Who is she?" he asked again.
His father looked at him as though he had only just realised who he was speaking to, "Do not concern yourself, my son," he said, clapping him on the shoulder.
"Come, it is time for dinner," he continued in a tone that brooked no opposition.
…
The next morning Paul rose early as he had another few sites to inspect for potential as tourist attractions. He was surprised to find that his father had all ready arisen and gone out, leaving a note saying that he would be home for dinner.
Seizing the moment he went up to his father's room and opened the cupboard to get another look at the folio, all he found was a note in his father's handwriting.
His ears and face burned with shame as he read its contents:
My son, did you really think I would be so stupid as to leave the folio where you could find it? I told you, do not concern yourself. I will see you when I return.
Putting the note back carefully so as to make it appear he hadn't snuck through his father's belongings, Paul made his way out to conduct his business.
Determined not to think on the subject, as he had been instructed; but it was easier said than done.