by Alys West
The other usher escorted Amy’s mum, Carole to the front left side row. Kenny and his friend, Craig, appeared and stood together by the altar. Kenny ran his finger around the inside of his collar, shuffled his feet, looked down. Craig said something that raised a smile. They both looked at their watches.
For some reason her thoughts swung to Winston and what he’d said about finding out who’d killed Mum. Would things have been different if she’d told Hal the truth about Mum and her magic? Would they still have been together and she’d have been here as his girlfriend or even his wife? Sat on the family rows at the front rather than on her own here at the back?
She looked down at her hands wrapped around her shiny red bag. Who was she kidding? It wasn’t that simple. Only if Hal accepted what she told him could things have been different. She should have risked telling him when Mum died but in the tumult of emotions she’d clung to the rules she’d grown up with and she’d lost him.
But he was back and this could be their second chance. She wasn’t going to screw it up again.
***
It was an old cream car with wide windows so everyone could see the bride. Only the glass was obscured by rain and the ancient wipers were struggling to clear the windscreen. Water spurted from beneath its wheels. Rachel slipped her cap back on her soaked hair and ducked further behind the shelter of the arch.
The driver got out, his uniform almost instantly soaked to a deeper grey, and took an umbrella from the boot. From the door, Hal rushed out holding a big, black brolly aloft.
To Rachel it seemed to be happening in slow motion. Hal came round to this side of the car, opened the rear passenger door and Amy’s father, Duncan got out looking uncomfortable in kilt and formal jacket. The driver opened the other door and, after a long moment, Amy climbed out, long skirts unfolding behind her. Instantly her veil was caught by a gust of wind. She tried to grab it but it streamed out to the side, tugging at her blonde hair.
Behind the arch, Rachel’s hands flew out stirring the air around her. Another stronger gust whipped around the bride. It picked the rain up, blowing it straight into Amy’s face. Gripping Duncan’s arm, she struggled to walk towards the open door while the driver tried to keep the umbrella above her head. As she gathered up her train, the bouquet of white roses fell from her hand and landed in a puddle. Hal scooped it up before taking her other arm, propelling her towards the entrance.
Directing the wind towards the umbrellas, Rachel smiled thinly as they flipped inside out. Both men fought to hold them. The rain soaked into the bride’s French pleat and the artful curls framing her face.
Amy looked around. Rachel shrank back, grateful for the few onlookers who, despite the weather, had paused to see the bride arrive. In that brief moment, Rachel saw the grief and fury in Amy’s face. This was supposed to be her perfect day. From back in the day when they were peedie girls playing with barbies, Amy had always known exactly what her wedding would be like.
Hal wrestled the umbrella back upright and held it over Amy’s head. But it was too late to save her hair, which was plastered to her face, or rescue the delicate kitten heels. Two more steps took them into the dark cavern of the Cathedral’s door and they were lost from view.
***
The notes of the organ changed, deepening and swelling. Reverend Fraser walked to his place before the altar. Kenny and Craig stepped forward. The guests turned to look down the aisle. Hal stepped through the doorway, Amy clinging to his arm. Jenna frowned. Something was wrong. Amy’s hair was a mess, her dress clinging to her body as if it’d been plastered on. The bridesmaids surrounded her as the organ music became Mendelssohn’s bridal march. But the bride scurried into the dark shadows at the side of the church rather than walking down the aisle.
A moment later, Hal strode past and spoke softly to Carole, Amy’s mother. She darted out as the organist abruptly broke off. As Hal returned down the aisle, Jenna raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”
“Amy’s in a state. A storm blew up just as she arrived and she’s soaked.”
“Is she alright?”
“I think so. She’s wet and a bit irate.” He nodded at her bag. “You don’t happen to have a hairdryer in there, do you?”
“Sorry. All I’ve got is a comb and a lipstick but she’s welcome to them if they’ll help”
“Give me the comb.” Hal held his hand out. “It might be some use.”
A crack of thunder made her jump. Automatically, she looked up. “That’s quite a storm.”
“I know.” Hal glanced back towards the door. “Came out of nowhere.”
When he’d gone, Jenna swivelled to look behind her. The doors were closed. Above them a dim light shone through the crisp geometric shapes and bright modern colours of the stained-glass window depicting the history of the Cathedral. Thunder rattled again and she shivered. She was used to changeable weather but, even for Orkney, this was a bit extreme.
***
She’d intended to go home now. She really had. She’d achieved what she wanted. But she couldn’t move. Something rooted her to this spot and around her the storm raged. The few folk remaining on the street ducked into shops or sheltered in doorways as thunder cracked above, followed seconds later by a flash of lightning.
Rage surged inside her and she couldn’t hold it. Her best friend had stolen her boyfriend. Didn’t that give her a right to be angry? Especially as Amy had done it when she’d been at her most vulnerable. Just when she really needed them both.
She raised her hands towards the dark clouds filling the sky and called out her pain. The sky answered; bursting with thunder, riven by a fork of lightning, spitting out hail. She reached for the power of the sea and pulled on it, sending it up into the clouds. The energy created a vortex and into it poured the wind. Her hands spiralled around each other. It was as instinctive as breathing to direct it up from the harbour and send it hurtling towards the Cathedral.
***
It was over twenty minutes later when Hal stopped by the front row and spoke quietly to his cousin. Reverend Fraser reappeared as Kenny and Craig took their places by the altar. Carole slid back into her place in the front row. Jenna turned in time to see a flurry of movement behind her. Holding tightly to her father’s arm, Amy walked around the side of the church and paused next to Hal. The bridesmaids made last minute adjustments to her veil and dress before taking their places.
The organ struck up the bridal march again. En masse the congregation turned to look. Pulling her shoulders back, Amy said something to her father and started to walk. A deep rumble of thunder marked the moment when she stepped into the aisle but she didn’t falter. Reaching the back row of chairs she smiled and Jenna couldn’t help but smile with her. Despite the hastily repaired hair and makeup she looked happy. Really, genuinely happy.
A loud crack overhead made Jenna whip round. Her eyes widened as a large, heavy object hurtled through the stained-glass window above them. For a second she watched it, saw glass tumble inwards in its wake. Then instinct kicked in and with a wordless cry, she ducked, covering her head with her hands. A huge crash resounded through the church. Pain sliced through her left arm.
There was a terrifying long moment of silence before noise erupted throughout the Cathedral.
Chapter 11
A crash came from inside the Cathedral. A second later, something smashed against the pavement outside. The sound echoed off the surrounding buildings. There was a moment of silence and then a woman screamed.
Oh God, what had she done? Head down, Rachel darted away. A man shot out of the newsagents and ran towards the Cathedral. Blindly she turned down a narrow lane between gardens and broke into a stumbling jog. Rain pelted against her as the wind dragged at her coat. All her eyes could see was the moment when the top half of one of the stone pinnacles on the Cathedral’s roof had broken off. She’d screamed ‘No!’ as she tried to stop the wind that swirled like a maelstrom around the building but it’d fallen, sliding a few feet down the s
tonework, bouncing off the tracery before splitting. One half punched a great jagged hole in the stained-glass window as the other hurtled towards the pavement outside.
Bursting onto the main road her trainers skidded to a halt on the wet pavement. Cars hurried past, water spraying from their tyres. Automatically she turned towards the harbour. A siren grew louder, was joined by a second. Then they both stopped.
Were those ambulances? Had folk been hurt? Had the lump of stone which smashed the window hit someone?
Her feet hurried her faster. She mustn’t be seen here. Why had she let it get so bad? Why hadn’t she stopped it when she had the chance? She should never have come today. It was stupid to think that she could hold it together while Amy and Kenny got married; that she could mess up Amy’s day so it wasn’t her perfect dream wedding and then walk away. She’d always struggled to control her powers when she was upset but, since Maeshowe, she balanced on a knife-edge every day. Why hadn’t she accepted that? Done something else? Gone somewhere far, far away from Kirkwall and the wedding?
The white sands of Westray flashed into her mind. She should have gone there. Never mind the expense, it would have been the safest place. A gust of wind blew her sideways and her feet faltered. Rain slid mercilessly down her face. This was all her fault. She had to make it stop. Only she had no idea how.
***
Someone was screaming. It went on and on, getting higher and higher. Jenna raised her head. Her left arm hurt. A large gash ran along her forearm. She clamped her other hand over it but blood seeped between her fingers.
A few feet away in the centre of the aisle Amy knelt by her father. He was face down on the floor. Blood stained Amy’s dress, reddened her hands. Absurdly and incongruously, the organist continued playing the bridal march as if the last few seconds hadn’t happened.
Carole was suddenly beside her daughter. Then Kenny and Dr Lloyd. Kenny gently took Amy’s arms and moved her away from her father while Pippa tried to comfort Carole. A woman across the aisle from Jenna was sobbing, cuts marking her face. Hal spoke quietly to her and led her away. A verger appeared, handed a first-aid kit to the doctor.
“Have you called an ambulance?” Chris Lloyd asked.
“Yes. They said five minutes.”
The doctor nodded. “Get everyone away from here, will you?”
Jenna sank back into her chair as the music broke off in a wheezing flurry of notes. She groped in her handbag until she found a clean tissue and pressed it against her cut. It was too late to stop blood getting on her dress. Not that it mattered. Not really.
The doctor’s hands were at Duncan’s neck, checking his pulse. Blood seeped from beneath his head and started to spread across the stone floor. She glanced away. How had this happened? How had the day changed from a celebration to carnage in seconds?
A shattered cone-shaped piece of stone lay six inches from Duncan’s body. Broken glass was scattered around him in tiny shards of jewel-bright colours. Turning, Jenna looked up. One of the middle panes of the stained-glass window was completely missing. Only a few twists of broken lead clung to the stonework.
Hal reappeared and moved people away, leaving only the family around Duncan. Carole started crying, tears sliding down her cheeks and soaking into her smart pink dress. Amy simply stared, her blood-stained hands limp by her sides, Kenny’s arm around her shoulders. Her bridesmaids huddled together, shock written on each of their faces.
Shuffling awkwardly down the row of seats after the other guests, Jenna cursed herself for wearing these ridiculous heels. As she reached the side aisle, Hal was suddenly by her side. “Are you okay?”
Wordlessly, she raised her arm to show him. Very gently, he tilted it towards the light, peered at it. “It’s deep. I’m no expert but I think you might need stitches.” Opening his sporran, he took out a clean white handkerchief. “Gran insisted I have this. She gave it me this morning when I said I didn’t know what to put in a sporran.” With gentle fingers, he wrapped the handkerchief around her arm and tied it tight. “It was Grandpa’s. It’s got his initials on it. I think she wanted something of him to be here today but now I’m glad he wasn’t here to see this.”
They’d never talked about his grandpa’s death. Jenna knew they’d been close. Without thinking she spoke to the emotion behind his words. “You must miss him.”
“I do. I…” Hal’s hand moved to hers and held it tight. As their eyes met, she felt the distance between them closing, although neither of them moved an inch. “I didn’t understand before. Grief, it’s a tough gig. It changes things.”
Jenna’s fingers tightened around his. She’d not expected this. She’d thought the fault was hers, for closing down, for shutting him out. “I should have talked to you. Tried to explain.”
“You couldn’t. I get that now.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. She struggled to find the words to tell him she was sorry. Then Chris Lloyd appeared at his shoulder. Jenna’s gaze slid to the doctor’s face and, as Hal turned, his fingers slipping from hers, the moment shattered. Chris said something quietly to Hal. Jenna caught only a few words, something about the Balfour Hospital and triage. The doctor moved away, his stride swift, returning to Duncan’s side. Hal faced her again, scrubbing a hand over his chin. “I’ve got to go. They need help getting people to the ambulances.”
“Will…will Duncan be alright?”
Hal shook his head. “I don’t know. He pushed Amy behind him but the stone hit his head…” His hands moved to tell the rest of the story.
“What about you?”
“I heard the crack as the window smashed and had just enough time to stop the bridesmaids following.”
“Thank God! Or they’d have been right in the way when the glass fell…” She looked up at him. Saw the same understanding in his eyes. The wail of a siren grew nearer. He glanced towards the door. “Go,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
She leaned back against the stone wall, cradling her left arm against her chest. Hal’s words were like a blanket wrapped around her, keeping the terror and the pain at bay. He understood now. Could that mean they did have a second chance? Not immediately, she didn’t expect that — he was still healing from the split with Cassie — but in the not so very distant future?
***
Reaching the harbour, Rachel jogged along the pier. Rain streamed down her face, wind buffeted her, slowing her progress until each step was a battle. Another siren started and then slowly faded. How many folk had been hurt? Did they need to go to the Balfour? Passing the ferry terminal, she was gasping for breath but she couldn’t stop.
Reaching the end, she bent over, her chest on fire, her legs aching. Dark clouds bruised the sky. Rain poured ceaselessly as the waves pounded against the sea wall. Inhaling deeply, Rachel closed her eyes. Her heart thumped as if she’d run a marathon, sweat clung to her skin.
Clear your mind, Nina had always told her, before you attempt a spell. The same must apply to stop one. She closed her eyes, tried to focus on her breathing but all she saw were the falling stones, the crashes and the scream. Panic clutched at her. What if she couldn’t stop it? What if it went on, getting stronger and stronger, causing destruction all over the Mainland?
She couldn’t let that happen. This was on her. She had to stop it. Closing her eyes again, she thought of Nina. Her face, her voice, the smell of the herbs from her dispensary, the way she called her ‘Sweet Rachel’ when she did something right. And, as if Nina spoke to her, she knew what to do. Raising her hands above her head, she pushed them down with each exhalation. Thinking only of the movement, only of the breath, she kept going. Recriminations poured through her mind but she put each one in a bubble and let it go, like Nina had told her. Her arms kept moving and, long, long moments later, her breathing slowed, her heart rate steadied.
She opened her eyes and looked out to sea. Fast moving clouds covered the sky. They thinned for a moment, rays of light streaking over the water. God’s fingers some folk called th
em. Rachel turned and walked away. They were more than she deserved.
***
The pain was getting worse making Jenna feel lightheaded and dizzy. Close to where she stood, a skull, perched above crossed bones on a gravestone, grinned at her and she shivered. The Cathedral had been here for over eight hundred years. No doubt bits of it had fallen off in that time. But why today? Was it a terrible accident? Or was something else going on? Or someone? Someone she’d suspected was raising powers she didn’t understand and had done nothing to stop?
Bending, she took her shoes off. The stone was sharply cold beneath her soles, even through her tights, but it steadied her as she walked along the side aisle to the north transept. A few guests stood around in huddles, talking quietly. They glanced at her and she nodded to them and headed for the corner under the rose window. She dropped her shoes into an empty chair, took her mobile from her bag and found Winston’s number. When he answered she said, “It’s Jenna. Are you in Kirkwall?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Something’s happened at the Cathedral. Something that…” She broke off trying to find the right words.
“What is it? Are you alright?”
It took her a moment to recognise the concern in his voice. “I’ll be okay. Hal says I might need stitches but…” She looked down at the white hankie, saw pinpricks of red, making a crazy join-the-dots pattern on it.
“Who’s Hal?”
“Friend. His cousin, Kenny, was getting married today.”
“Was?”
“Yes, a piece of masonry fell through the west window of the Cathedral just as the wedding started. Amy, she’s the bride, was walking up the aisle with her dad and he shoved her out of the way. The stone hit him. He’s… he’s not good.”
“Christ! Anyone else hurt?”
“Amy’s in shock, I think. Some of the other guests have got cuts but I don’t know how bad they are.”
