The Macbeth Prophecy

by Anthea Fraser

  “Even if I can, what do you suggest I do about it?”

  The vicar met his eyes. “That, of course, is entirely up to you.”

  When he had gone, Jason sat for a long time thinking over what he had said. A week ago he would have dismissed the whole thing as fantasy, but a week ago he was still safely in London, where folklore was buried more deeply beneath the surface than in this Lakeland village. And a week ago he had not been subjected to the barrage of sensations which had resulted in a visit to the doctor’s surgery. There was a certain kind of justice in that he, who had always derided the supernatural, should have been brought so uncompromisingly face to face with it.

  “How are you this morning, Mr Quinn?” It was Saturday, and Mrs Staveley had arrived to give the cottage its weekly turn-out.

  “Much better, thank you.”

  “It was a nasty bang you had, Madeleine said.” She hesitated. “I wonder if I could ask you a favour.”

  “Ask away, Mrs Staveley.”

  “We’re having a social next Saturday at the church hall – the Mothers’ Union, that is. I was wondering if you would mind presenting the prizes for us?”

  “Well, I –”

  “Everyone would be so thrilled. The judging will be done during the afternoon, and in the evening we’re holding a wine and cheese party when the prizes will be awarded. It would be such an honour if you’d do it.”

  “Very well, Mrs Staveley, I’ll present your prizes for you.” And, cutting short her expressions of thanks, he made his escape.

  “Madeleine – wait!” Matthew increased his pace, catching up with her on the corner of Broad Walk. “I was beginning to think you’re avoiding me! You haven’t waited for me after school all week.”

  “Sorry. There’s been quite a lot going on.”

  “So I gather. I hear you found our eminent friend unconscious among the buttercups?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “What happened?”

  “He apparently received some kind of shock from the stones. Matthew –” She glanced at him and surprised a gleam of intense excitement in his eyes. “You told me once that they store up power. What’s it for?”

  “Not Jason Quinn, as he discovered.”

  Something in his voice sent a chill through her. “But perhaps,” she said very softly, “for you?”

  He gave a breathless laugh. “Clever little Maddy!”

  “If it’s liable to knock you out, I can’t think –”

  “It wouldn’t do that to me. I helped to build it up.” She stopped and stared at him, coldness spreading inside her. “You’re trying to tell me it could distinguish between you? It would attack Jason and not you?”

  “Exactly. The shock is only a deterrent, an anti-burglary device.”

  “But he wasn’t trying to steal anything! He didn’t even know it was there!”

  “No, being Jason Quinn he wouldn’t. Well, he does now. Perhaps it showed him there are one or two things he doesn’t know about after all.”

  The expression on her face belatedly penetrated his elation and he took her arm and drew her forward again. “But why are we wasting time talking about Quinn? You don’t like him any better than I do! Let’s go to the Crow’s Nest for a pub lunch and you can ask Fred about the stones. He’s the expert.”

  They found the saloon bar crammed with people. Matthew steered Madeleine to one end of the counter where Mabel was taking orders.

  “Any chance of a bit of lunch?”

  “They’re queuing for the dining-room, love.”

  “We only want a snack. Ploughman’s, or something like that.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. Go out into the garden – there’s more room there – and Sadie’ll bring it. What do you want to drink?”

  “A pint of bitter and half of lager. Thanks, Mabel. Where’s Fred, by the way?”

  “I think he went outside, too.”

  The pub garden was gay with coloured umbrellas and beneath one of them, deep in conversation, Fred was sitting with Jason Quinn.

  “Damn!” Matthew said softly.

  Jason had seen them and made some comment to the old man, who raised his hand. “Matthew? Come and join us, lad.”

  They had no choice but to go across. Jason rose and pulled out a chair for Madeleine. She didn’t meet his eyes. No doubt he was wondering whether her rebuttal of closeness with the Selbys was as reliable as he’d hoped. Be that as it may, having settled himself again, it was at Matthew that he directed his attention.

  “So we meet at last, Mr Selby. I’ve been wanting to thank you for your letter.”

  The two men’s eyes locked for a long minute before Matthew said, “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  Jason smiled; one of his mocking variety, Madeleine noted. “Just as you like. Can I get you both a drink?”

  “We’ve ordered, thanks.”

  Fred said deliberately, “Mr Quinn here was asking about them stones.”

  “That’s quite a coincidence. So was Madeleine.”

  The old man turned towards her. “What did you want to know, lass?”

  “We were talking of Mr Quinn’s accident,” she said hesitantly. “It looks as though he received a shock from them, and Matthew seems to think it was deliberate; a personal attack.” She paused, aware that she held the attention of all three men. “Surely, Mr Hardacre, that’s impossible? How could an inanimate lump of rock distinguish one person from another?”

  Fred said slowly, “Well, love, stones are made up of the same groups of atoms and molecules as the rest of us. Only a hundred years ago country folk believed they were alive, since every time they cleared their gardens of pebbles, another lot ‘grew’. As for standing stones, they’ve had strange powers over the years and there’s a lot about them we don’t understand. If he’ll forgive me saying so, Mr Quinn probably knows less than most, being as he’s kept his mind closed to that kind of thing. Happen they wanted to teach him a lesson.”

  Matthew had suggested the same thing.

  Jason leant forward. “Enlighten me, then. What powers have the stones had over the years?”

  “Eh well, now you’re asking! They’ve been used for healing, for cursing, and for fertility. Kings have been crowned on them, treaties sworn over them and bishops ordered to destroy them. Even today we’re somehow drawn to them. Show me the boy or girl who hasn’t at some time collected a handful of pebbles on the beach – though ask them why and they likely couldn’t tell you.” The old man sat placidly staring ahead with his sightless eyes.

  After a moment Jason prompted; “And what about the energy they’re supposed to store?”

  “Well, sir, it could come from the earth, or even from the stars if the circles were built to read them. Or it might just be a build-up of human energy, from all those years of ritual dancing among the stones.”

  “And what is it to be used for? Can you tell me that?”

  Fred turned his head slowly and Madeleine felt a superstitious shiver down her back.

  “Aye, I can sir. It’s to free the imprisoned and restore that which was stolen.”

  Sadie Perkins, plump, fair and cheerful, banged down the tray containing the ploughman’s lunches and drinks Matthew had ordered. To the people sitting round the table her normality was an intrusion which violated the atmosphere they had unwittingly built around themselves. Since it was irretrievably dispelled, Jason stood up.

  “I’ll leave you to enjoy your lunch. Thank you, Mr Hardacre, that was fascinating. I’ll treat stones with more respect in future.”

  “Supercilious bastard!” Matthew said softly, staring after him.

  “Did I answer your questions too, lass?”

  “Some of them.”

  “What else do you want to know?”

  “When this – restoration is going to take place.”

  “That’d be telling, now, wouldn’t it? It’ll not be long, though, I promise you that. Not more than a month or so, possibly less.”

>   “Really, Fred? As soon as that?” Matthew’s voice was taut.

  “Aye, I reckon we’ve waited long enough.”

  “You’ve waited?”

  “Only a manner of speaking, miss. The whole village, like.”

  Madeleine’s heart was thumping, her appetite gone. She wished Jason had stayed to hear that last piece of information. She needed his quizzical disbelief to counter the apprehension which was growing inside her. Matthew, on the other hand, merely added to it.

  “By the way, Fred, Madeleine’s been complaining about the Smith boys missing school.”

  “Oh aye? That were partly my fault, I’m afraid. There were things to be done and Tom’s been right busy with all the holiday trade. So I borrowed them two to help out.”

  “Without their parents’ knowledge?”

  “Well, now, I’ve never known Luke and Nell bother about the lads one way or t’other.”

  “But they should have been at school, Mr Hardacre.”

  “Aye, well let’s say I was educating them myself. They’re young enough to come to no harm through a few missed lessons.”

  “What were you teaching them?” she asked curiously-

  “Habits of birds, among other things. Crows in particular.”

  “Crows?”

  “Aye, like yon black monster of their Granny’s.”

  Matthew said tightly, “If it’s all the same to you, Fred –”

  “Sorry, lad, but she did ask. Anyroad, I’ve finished their training now.”

  And with that, sensing Matthew’s discomfort, she had to be content.

  During the days that followed, Jason worked steadily at the outline of the new play. Some of Fred Hardacre’s remarks had given him a lead and his imaginary stone circle became impregnated with superstition and folklore which, characteristically, he intended systematically to demolish. The fact that Matthew Selby had denied writing to him did not surprise him, but Madeleine’s appearance with him after their previous conversation had. She’d seemed ill at ease, though whether that was due to his own presence rather than Matthew’s he could not be sure. Certainly the precarious friendship founded after his accident seemed to have dissolved and he found himself regretting this.

  One evening, purely by chance, he ran into the little chambermaid, Sharon, down on Lake Road. She was more than willing to accompany him to the Pavilion for a coffee, while he plied her with further questions about Patsy Lennard.

  To little avail. She appeared to have told him all she knew, and repeated what Mrs Staveley had said: that the police seemed to be coming round to the belief that the crow was the culprit and there was no murderer after all.

  Jason received this view with scepticism. He was convinced there’d been human connivance behind the bird’s attack, but he’d no grounds on which to base any accusation.

  Finally he gave Sharon five pounds and she went happily on her way. Outside the café window, the grassy bank led down to the calm blue waters of the lake. He sat staring at it, his mind sifting through what he had learned and worrying at what he had not. Then, with a sigh of frustration, he pushed back his chair and went out into the darkening evening.

  Saturday morning came round again, and with it a letter from Tania asking for a divorce. Jason read it through twice and tossed it into the waste basket. So, Mrs Barlow, your prediction was only a few days previous. His second marriage was about to follow his first down the road to failure. He was still brooding over the matter when Mrs Stavely arrived for her cleaning session, and only then did he remember his promise of the previous week to preside at the prize-giving that evening.

  “The social starts at eight, but the prizes won’t be presented till nine-thirty,” she told him in reply to his questions. “If you’d like to come along with us –

  “It’s kind of you, but I have some work to finish first. Will it be all right if I arrive just before nine-thirty?”

  She looked disappointed. Obviously, regarding him as her own particular prize, she had hoped to show him off during the evening. “Well, if that’s what you prefer –”

  “I’ll be there on time, I promise,” he assured her, and wondered how soon he would be able to escape again.

  A babble of voices met him as he pushed open the door of the hall that evening. The building had been the village school until the new one was built and the scuffed skirting boards and flaking paint told their own story. He walked down the corridor towards the double doors from behind which the sounds of revelry emanated. Mrs Staveley bore down on him with a cry of delight and her husband also came forward to shake his hand. Jason was relieved to find he was not, as he’d feared, the only male present. Among the sea of faces he recognized the vicar and his wife and the Marshalls and in the far corner caught a brief glimpse of Madeleine. No doubt she’d been coerced into attendance by her aunt.

  He allowed himself to be led up to the platform and embarked on the speech they seemed to expect from him. One by one the worthy ladies came to receive their book tokens, boxes of chocolates and bath salts from his hand. Then it was over and Geoff Marshall was waiting with a glass of wine to revive him. Jason stood chatting to him for several minutes before moving over to where he had last seen Madeleine. She had disappeared, but a curtain moving in the breeze gave a clue to her whereabouts and lifting it aside, he found an open door leading to the old school playground. It was almost dark with the moon hidden behind banks of cloud, but the cool breeze was welcome after the stifling heat inside the hall. As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he could make out a figure on a wooden bench at the far end of the playground. He walked over to join her.

  “Had enough?”

  “I’m afraid so. I’ve a vicious headache and the heat and noise in there didn’t help at all.”

  “Matthew not in attendance?”

  “Can you imagine him at the Mothers’ Union?” She paused and added heavily, “I know you don’t believe me, but I really am trying to phase out seeing him. After three years, it isn’t easy.” She glanced sideways at him. “I gather you’ve decided it was he who wrote that letter?”

  “It has to be.”

  “And you still won’t tell me what it said?”

  “‘Come to Crowthorpe and watch a Macbeth prophecy coming to pass.’ Words to that effect.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “A Macbeth prophecy? You discussed that once on TV, didn’t you, but I can’t remember what it was.”

  “One that fulfills itself.”

  “And Matthew thinks we have one here?”

  “It would seem so.”

  She shook her head in bewilderment, then winced and pressed her fingers to her temples.

  “Head still bad?”

  “It’ll be all right. You’d better go back to your admirers.”

  “Among whom you obviously don’t number yourself! Am I being dismissed?”

  “Excused would be a better word.”

  “Actually I prefer it out here, even though this bench is somewhat lacking in comfort. Try closing your eyes and leaning against me – it might help.”

  “No, really –” But he had already put an arm round her and it seemed wiser not to make an issue of it. Certainly it was a relief to close her eyes. After a moment she said, “Incidentally, when Matthew and I were talking about your accident, he claimed he’d helped to build up that power in the stones.”

  Jason’s hand moved fractionally against her shoulder. “Having been knocked senseless, I can hardly deny there’s some sort of energy there, but if Matthew Selby considers himself responsible for it, I’d say he’s more dangerous than the stones. I’m only sorry I can’t seem to convince you of the fact.”

  “After you’d gone the other day, Mr Hardacre was saying everything would come to a head within a month or so.”

  “He’s quite a character, that old man. I can’t imagine how he’s managed to amass so much knowledge on such an erudite subject.”

  Madeleine said slowly, “I don’t think he ‘amassed�
�� it. I’d say it’s something he just knows instinctively.”

  Jason snorted. “You’re starting to talk like they do! The trouble is that under all this airy-fairy nonsense there’s a more concrete danger. Matthew can talk till he’s blue in the face about personalized attacks by inanimate objects, but the fact remains that a girl died up there, and it wasn’t the stones that killed her.”

  She raised her head quickly. “It wasn’t Matthew, either!”

  “Maybe not, but I’m damn sure he knows who did.”

  She stared at him wide-eyed, trying to read his expression through the uncertain light, and he felt a shaft of fear for her. She was so appallingly vulnerable.

  He said urgently, “Madeleine, you must stop seeing them – all of them. Don’t you realize the danger you’re in? If you found out too much, or if they only thought you had –”

  “Too much about what?” she whispered.

  “Hell, I don’t know! Whatever it is they’ve got going at that infernal Circle. You could get drawn into it before you knew what was happening, and you don’t want to be the next one found with her eyes pecked out.”

  She gave a little gasp and he said more gently, “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to frighten you. Or rather, I am but for your own good. Don’t you see how easily it could happen? Promise me that you’ll keep right away from them.”

  She said tremulously, “But how can I? They’re my friends.”

  He caught hold of her shoulders. “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve been saying? They’re lethal, the lot of them! Even if they’ve no power at all, they think they have, which is as bad! Why can’t you just accept what I say?”

  “Because I –” A second before he moved she divined his intention and tried to stand up but it was too late. As his hands tightened on her shoulders she said breathlessly, “No, Jason!”

  “I think, yes.”

  The kiss which, if he’d thought about it at all, had merely been intended to put an end to her arguing, immediately got out of control. He was totally unprepared for the effect of her closeness and his own overwhelming response to it, and it was some minutes before the frantic beating of her hands against his chest restored some measure of sanity. As he released her she stumbled to her feet and ran unsteadily back across the playground to the lighted hall.