The Darkness Within

by Alanna Knight

  She opened a drawer and took out a selection of underwear. ‘There will be something here you will need.’

  Alice gave a cry of delight as she handled a petticoat, touching the lace bodice. Rose was very conscious about hands and nails in particular and manicured her own frequently. She would have liked to do the same for Alice’s, whose were sadly neglected. Gran had always been such a stickler for soap and water and clean hands inspected before meals. The old adage about cleanliness being next to godliness could well have been reversed in Mary Faro’s book. She wondered if Gran was also offended by Sven’s dirty fingernails, hands engrained from frequent gardening with his precious orchids.

  An hour later, an almost unrecognisable Alice emerged from the bathing ritual. ‘It’s like the transformation scene in Cinderella, isn’t it, Mam?’ said Meg, as Alice rather self-consciously came into the kitchen and smiled at them.

  ‘Well, now!’ Mary gasped.

  It was well indeed, a beauty had strode into their midst. A beauty with long pale-gold hair. Emily’s dress, though a little large did not disguise her slender curves.

  She took a seat at the table with them, said thank you over and over until her gratitude became something of an embarrassment to Emily. After all, she was kin to Erland; a girl who had made a miserable long journey deserved the best they could do for her and she wanted to know all about Yesnaby. The house was so magnificent and, oh, how she wished she could have enjoyed all this, with time to spare. If only she had made that visit, as Cousin Erland had wanted so badly, before – now it was too late. Just a day or two and then they would go to Edinburgh. Of course, she was grateful …

  Listening to her, watching her as she spoke, Faro and Rose were impressed. Discussing her on their daily walk the next morning, she was refined, well bred, and obviously well educated, quite unlike a humble country lass. She didn’t sound like a crofter’s bairn, with not even a hint of the local accent which, Faro remembered from his visits to Balmoral in the late Queen’s reign, was utterly baffling and often like a foreign language.

  They stood on the clifftop before returning. It was a beautiful cloudless day, with visibility to the far horizons, the sea path travelled by the Vikings long ago.

  Rose sighed. ‘Not many more days like this, Pa.’ Taking his arm she said: ‘I wonder if we will ever come back.’

  ‘You might, Rose. Indeed, I hope you will.’

  She looked at him. A lurking sadness in his words making her remember he had passed the age when a man could hopefully see his future in decades.

  ‘You must come, Pa. Bring Imogen, she would love it.’

  He shrugged, smiled. ‘Maybe.’ They headed back up the drive where their moments of peace were ended by the woeful scene in the kitchen.

  Alice was crying. Standing beside her looking awkward as men do sometimes when women are upset, Sven was saying: ‘Please, Miss Alice, do not upset yourself.’

  She looked up as Faro and Rose came in. ‘My trunk – it isn’t at the ferry. It hasn’t turned up. No one knows what has happened to it. All my things lost—’ she wailed. ‘What am I to do? I have nothing – nothing.’

  Emily, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders, said gently. ‘It isn’t the end of the world and there are lots of shops when we get to Edinburgh.’

  ‘Not without any money. Oh, this is awful, awful. Not only clothes – everything.’

  Emily exchanged a helpless look with Rose. Surely not everything – she had only intended a brief visit to Yesnaby.

  Sven said. ‘I will go again, this afternoon. They said I could try later when the next ferry arrives. It will probably be on that one,’ he added encouragingly. ‘Perhaps, Miss Alice would like to come into Kirkwall with me.’

  ‘What a good idea, you would like that I am sure,’ said Emily, and Rose looked at her. Why treat her like a spoilt child, with her lost luggage the end of the world rather than an irritating incident encountered by most travellers at some time?

  She was smiling now, putting on a brave face and saying yes, she would like to see Kirkwall.

  Sven eyeing her, bowed and said to Emily, ‘It may be cold in the motor car, perhaps a warm blanket, Mrs Yesnaby?’

  Watching them leave, Faro had retreated upstairs to the telescope while Rose and Mary went to help Emily resume her packing.

  ‘What do you think of her?’ Rose asked.

  Emily smiled indulgently. ‘She’s very young, you know, and obviously hasn’t been away from home much in her short life.’

  ‘Her parents must be quite well off?’

  ‘Aye, an only one. I’ve thought about that,’ Mary put in. ‘No doubt skimped themselves and scraped for years to get her educated and find a good husband.’

  ‘I can’t imagine that she will have much trouble finding one.’

  Mary chuckled. ‘With her looks, she’ll be fighting them off. Did you see the way young Sven looked at her, wanting to take her into Kirkwall in the motor car? No offer to take the two bairns this time. Well, well.’

  Rose looked quickly at Emily, and saw by her expression that it was far from well for her. Aware of her sister’s confidences regarding Erland’s protégé, she wondered how long it had been going on and how deep it was. She felt concerned that the situation was identical to John Randall’s passion for Emily, and as Faro would have put it, poetically and ironically, ‘There are those who kiss and those who are kissed’.

  It was early afternoon when the two returned from Kirkwall. Still no luggage at the ferry office. Sven shook his head. ‘They fear it is not going to arrive and Miss Alice was asked to sign a claim for lost luggage.’

  Alice seemed more resigned than angry. There were no tears or wailing this time, just a sigh and a shrug. ‘It could have been worse, if I had come here and found the house empty.’ A faint smile. ‘But you have all been wonderfully kind. I dare say it will turn up and I am sorry to have made such a fuss after all you have been through.’

  ‘So she has grown up a few years in a few hours,’ Rose said to Faro, leaving him after lunch to return upstairs to find a distraught Emily pulling out drawers, scattering their contents.

  ‘Never mind about Alice. This is serious, Rose. It’s the Yesnaby Jewel, our family heirloom. It’s not where it should be. I’m sure I saw it – here!’ She pointed to an empty jewel case and sat down heavily on the dressing-table stool. She put her hand to her face. ‘Rose, it was Erland’s, his most treasured possession, to be worn on state occasions, but fortunately for me they never happened. I would never have worn it, in fact I thought it was quite hideous.’

  Rose knew that was right. She had encountered the Yesnaby Jewel on her visit ten years ago and there was quite a story, which she preferred to forget.

  Emily was saying, ‘Gold. Very large and heavy, golden oval-shaped pendant. In its centre a crowned mermaid, her tail studded with precious stones, sapphires and diamonds, and the mirror she held trimmed with pearls.’

  Rose nodded. The pendant was an exact copy of the mermaid stone in the ruined wall of the original house.

  Emily continued: ‘It is supposed to be at least two hundred years old, handed down to the eldest son and heir.’ She sighed sadly. ‘I can’t imagine Magnus or his wife will like it, either, or whoever else inherits it after we are gone.’

  Rose said nothing as she remembered Erland’s words. The jewel had a very precious secret. Inside was a lock of pale-gold hair, taken from the tresses of the Maid of Norway before they laid her beneath the mermaid stone in the garden. This was also the secret passed on to the next in line. Not usually to a woman, unless there was no son as heir, Erland had said. Women talk too much.

  Emily wasn’t talking this time, she was frantic and moaned that she had searched everywhere.

  ‘Were you going to take it to Edinburgh?’ Rose asked.

  ‘Yes, the thought had crossed my mind to take it to a jeweller in Edinburgh. That’s how I found it was missing. As far as I know that had never been done; it has never
left the house before and this seemed a good opportunity to have it valued.’

  ‘There was no provision for something so priceless, such as a bank strongbox?’

  ‘No,’ Emily said sharply. ‘Erland never even thought of such a thing. The jewel was the soul of the house. It would have been like giving away its heart, handing it to an alien source. He really believed in it and felt the house of Yesnaby would be cursed and fall without it. We were the guardians.’

  Rose shared this information with Faro, whose logical mind rejected it as superstitious nonsense although he was careful to treat Emily’s anxiety with gentleness and tact. He said reassuringly, ‘The house won’t be completely empty, Gran will be here. It’s probably just mislaid. It’ll turn up and she will look after it.’

  This new situation regarding the missing jewel alarmed Mary. Taking into account the break-in, who knew what sinister forces were at work. ‘Perhaps that was what they were looking for,’ she grumbled.

  ‘Hardly, the garden was the last place they would search, Ma.’

  Packing went ahead, trunks were stored ready to be transported to the ferry in hired transport, the motor car to remain in the garage awaiting Emily’s instruction on her return, now almost decidedly its subsequent sale.

  With preparations almost complete, Sven’s main concern was for the care in his absence of what he now regarded as his orchids. After being on beck and call for help with their luggage requirements, he spent hours in the sunken garden ensuring that his orchids would take no harm during his week-long absence.

  Emily, gazing down from the window, noticed that Alice, who told her she passionately loved all flowers, was now also spending a lot of time in the garden, and obviously sharing Sven’s devotion to orchids, which she said she had only ever seen before in books.

  Rose was another candid observer of the two fair heads together, laughing and talking, undeniably a very handsome young couple, and she felt her sister’s despair.

  Once finding Rose at her side as she looked out of the high window, Emily said acidly: ‘Do you know, I am beginning to think it was a great mistake inviting him to come with us to Edinburgh. We should be leaving him here to take care of his damned orchids.’

  Rose was sorry for her, realising that the unseen young woman, who according to the gossips he had been visiting in Skailholm, was no competition for the one on hand, the quite beautiful girl who had arrived on the doorstep of Yesnaby. It seemed unlikely that he ever gave a passing thought to Emily and their very brief idyll – a few kisses – which she believed meant that he loved her and saw in them a future for them both.

  Time moved apace, soon days became hours and on the eve of their early-morning departure, Emily rushed downstairs with a shout of triumph. ‘I’ve got it!’

  The Yesnaby Jewel was found.

  Emily was enraptured but completely mystified. ‘It wasn’t in its case. It was away at the back of the drawer. I was sure I had looked there, everywhere in my frantic search. But no matter how,’ she added, clutching it to her heart.

  Later she said to Rose, ‘I have an idea what happened. The only logical reason, unless I am going mad, was that Magnus had been showing it to Meg, and knowing it was a naughty thing to do – he’s forbidden to poke about in my dressing table – perhaps he heard someone coming and didn’t have time to replace it in its case.’

  She sighed. ‘I’ve just asked him and, of course, he denies it completely.’ She shook her head. ‘He was quite upset when I accused him and I know he never tells lies. But it is still very weird, it doesn’t make sense, does it? I mean, how we can miss something we search for when it is just under our noses all the time.’

  Rose reassured her about that. With a meticulous index system recording even the smallest details in her professional life, she could be – according to Jack – alarmingly careless when it came to looking after her personal possessions.

  Emily bit her lip and said gloomily, ‘I am glad I am not the only one. Perhaps it runs in the family.’

  Rose, however, decided to have a word with Meg. When she mentioned the Yesnaby Jewel, Meg’s eyes brightened.

  ‘Have you seen it?’ Rose asked. ‘Has Magnus ever shown it to you?’

  Meg shook her head. ‘Of course not, but I would love to have seen it. He said it was very precious and that as Aunty Emily was very upset about losing it, he decided that we should search for it. I thought that was a great idea, and Aunty would be delighted if we could find it for her. Trouble was we had no idea where to begin, just knowing it must be somewhere, but that could be anywhere, this is just such a great big house.

  ‘I was sure that the most likely place was still Aunty’s bedroom so when you were all busy downstairs, we crept in and searched everywhere, especially under the bed, but all we found there were dust mice that had escaped Millie’s cleaning.’ She laughed. ‘Don’t tell Grandma, or poor Millie will get into trouble.’

  ‘Did you look in the dressing-table drawers?’

  Meg gave a shocked exclamation. ‘Of course not. Magnus said that was not allowed. They were very private.’

  Rose believed Meg, her story sounded right and she was not a child who ever told lies: the nuns at her school were very explicit about making hell very real and scary.

  The only other person who seemed likely to have lifted it and then put it back again was Millie, who might be short in many things but was the soul of honesty. Could she have been driven by curiosity while dusting her mistress’s dressing table but had been interrupted?

  Discussing it with Faro and considering the secrecy surrounding this ancient relic, they concluded that it was unlikely that Millie had ever heard of the Yesnaby Jewel.

  Faro shook his head. ‘Just one more mystery we are unlikely to solve.’

  Rose sighed. ‘Another one to add to our list. It’s growing, isn’t it?’

  Faro laughed. ‘We must all accept that mislaying things in the house happens to everyone. Perhaps, as Emily now accepts, most likely she had taken it out of its case at some time, meant to replace it and forgot.’

  Even as he said it, and despite the fact that Emily seemed notoriously careless about leaving windows open and losing material objects, he thought this an unlikely theory. ‘I am taking it to Edinburgh with me,’ she said. ‘I’m not letting it out of my sight again, curse or no curse. I still believe it should be valued.’

  Mary had watched over their preparations. There was no joyful holiday ahead for her, only the sad parting from her beloved Jeremy. Well aware when he took her in his arms that this might be their last farewell on this earth, he knew that she who never cried was fighting back tears.

  ‘For the present,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll be thinking of you and I’ll come again soon, I promise.’

  She looked up at him, and although most days she did not feel her age, it was strange to have a son of seventy.

  She smiled wanly: ‘Come again, lad, and bring Imogen.’

  The hour of departure had arrived, the end of the sad occasion of Erland’s funeral with its ironic consolation of bringing the whole family together under one roof again. For Faro this had been an unexpected reunion with his mother and his two daughters, especially Rose, someone to share his delight in solving mysteries.

  There were no glowing successes to report this time, however, rather they were leaving two dismal failures behind them. The secret visit of the royal yacht, with the mysterious passenger, Mr Minton, who had fallen overboard and, as far as they knew, whose body would now be in the deep sea somewhere between Shetland and Scandinavia.

  More baffling still, the murder of the mysterious Mr Smith, with its solving and bringing to justice the person or persons involved now the business of Orkney police, who they were unlikely ever to meet or hear from again. Unless his murder and the revelation of his secret identity were sensational enough for the scandal columns of the Sunday newspapers.

  Such were the thoughts of Faro and Rose as they went down to take a last look at Erland’s
garden with its secret. It was a cold, blustery day with rain that fell like teardrops on the stone seat.

  Emily leant over the wall high above them. ‘Time to go.’

  Faro took Rose’s hand and they climbed the steps together.

  They both smiled, a little sadly.

  ‘Farewell, Yesnaby.’

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Edinburgh

  They had arrived at last. The end of a smooth voyage across the legendary stormy firth, but they had been favoured since it had fewer rolls and lurches than the ferry to Stromness.

  Nevertheless, there were sighs of relief when Leith’s busy harbour came in sight, from all except Magnus, disappointed that there had been so little excitement and he had hoped, he whispered to Meg, that they might have had a more eventful time than playing cards to pass the journey.

  Meg didn’t mind, although it had seemed a long time since they left Kirkwall, and her excitement grew at the thought of seeing Thane again.

  As the ship docked, Rose anxiously regarded the quayside. There was no sign of Jack. She said nothing to the others but his absence bothered her. When they stepped ashore, a man came forward, bowed and said: ‘Mrs Macmerry? Chief Inspector sends his apologies, he is unable to meet you but there are motor cars at your disposal.’ He pointed. ‘If you will permit me to escort you home.’

  Rose murmured ‘Typical’ to her father who grinned: ‘A policeman’s life, my dear,’ as they trooped behind the messenger who summoned a porter to bring their luggage. There was an unexpected problem. Too much luggage for the space required for seven passengers.

  As Jack’s messenger sighed, saying there had been a mistake, Rose wished she had her bicycle, waiting at home for her return.

  Some decision had to be reached and Sven stepped forward, eyed the forlorn trunks lying on the quayside and bowed.