She sensed that every single person gathered at Stonehenge in the dawn was infused with the same sparkling energy. They were more than people. They were geometric fountains of light, complex mandalas, diverse and perfect as snow crystals.
She felt herself being lifted by an incoming tide of sound, as if sound had declared itself as a power, a presence, a part of the shining web of energy. It was music. It was resonance. The essence of spirit. The unseen.
Nothing had ever moved her so profoundly as the sound of the Druid’s horn greeting the sun, the way people were humming and singing a single note, making an incredible sound, their hands lifted to the sky, like a field of ripening corn.
And when it had finished and the sun was an icy disc in the winter sky, everyone slept, huddled against the great stones. No one talked. Drums and guitars lay silent. Everyone slept in clumps like kittens, keeping each other warm.
Only the policemen stayed awake, watching from a respectful distance, their minds safe and sensible under frost-glazed helmets.
Freddie came home at noon on the day of the winter solstice. He parked his lorry and listened in surprise to the sound of music coming from The Pines. Kate was playing an LP of Christmas songs: Little Donkey, and Jingle Bells, and I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas.
Something’s happened, he thought, walking up the garden path. He paused to inspect the vegetable plot, pleased to see the twinkle of frost on the chunky-stemmed Brussels sprout plants, their pale green stalks covered in knobbly sprouts. They always tasted better for having the frost on them.
He was bemused to find Kate dancing round the kitchen in her favourite red dress and pinny. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked.
‘Oh Freddie!’ She came to him, bright eyed and radiant. Like she used to be, he thought. ‘Guess what? Go on – guess.’
‘I dunno,’ Freddie said. ‘You won the pools?’
‘No.’
‘You backed a winner?’
‘No.’
‘What then?’
‘It’s TESSA!’ Kate was crying tears of joy as she looked up at Freddie. ‘She’s coming home for Christmas!’
Freddie’s blue eyes sparkled with hope. ‘Oh, that’s good, good news. It’s been a long time!’
‘Fifteen months,’ Kate said. ‘AND – she’s bringing Paul! Look, here’s her letter – and she says they’ve got something exciting to tell us. Ooh – I can’t WAIT. Dance with me, Freddie, come on, crack your face, dear.’
Freddie had misgivings about Paul. But he soon got caught up in Kate’s excitement and found himself laughing and smiling as they whirled around the kitchen.
‘’Tis good to see some colour in your cheeks again,’ he said as they collapsed on the cottage sofa. Lucy’s Dansette record player was making clicking noises. ‘Dust on the needle,’ he said and got up to lift the arm away from the LP before harm was done. He blew the dust off, set the arm back away from the LP, and turned it off. Kate was talking non-stop as she made his coffee, adding a dash of rum and a blob of cream, the way he liked it. ‘You spoil me,’ he said when he managed to get a word in edgeways.
‘We must get a Christmas tree. Can you get one from Tarbuts Timber?’ Kate asked, and babbled on without waiting for an answer. ‘And I must make mincemeat. I haven’t made any yet. A good job I made all those Christmas puddings – there they are – look’ She waved at the dresser where a line of twelve white earthenware basins stood, each covered by a cloth tightly tied on with string. ‘I put sixpences in them this year, and lots of brandy. You wait ’til you taste one, Freddie, with some of my rum butter. And – oh my goodness, I must get some wrapping paper – and we’d better give Paul a present. Whatever can we get him? A tie? Socks? We don’t know what he likes. And what if it snows, Freddie? Where’s the old sledge? They might want to go tobogganing down The Skiddins.
‘’Tis in the shed,’ Freddie said, inspired by her enthusiasm. ‘It’s got woodworm. I’ll get it out later and give it a brush over – and I’ll get a tree after lunch.’
He could drive up to Tarbuts Timber. That would be okay. He hoped Kate wouldn’t ask him to walk anywhere, or go to the Post Office. She gave him one of her searching, caring gazes. ‘Are you all right, Freddie?’ He looked down at her clear eyes and was tempted to tell her about the panic attack and how deeply it had shaken his confidence. Telling her now would spoil her happiness. So he kept quiet.
‘Tessa will want to show Paul her field,’ Kate said, skilfully changing the subject. ‘We ought to get our wellies on and go up there.’
‘It’s very overgrown,’ Freddie told her, ‘and Herbie said he’d seen a hippie up there. I walked up there, as you know. I was shocked to see that fence. Someone is camping in the wood, and fetching water from the spring, I reckon. I wouldn’t mention it to Tessa – she might not even want to go there, after that blimin’ layabout broke her heart. I’m surprised she’s got over it so well, to be honest.’
‘Well, it looks like Paul is her knight in shining armour,’ Kate said, smiling. ‘I can’t wait to meet him. Do you think he’s a townie? I wonder what he’ll think of our country ways?’
Freddie let Kate go on fantasising about Paul while he thought about Tessa’s field. Over the year he’d worried a lot about what would happen to the lovely little field. Would Tessa ever want to go there again after what had happened? Freddie wanted her to keep the field, and plant trees with him, create a wood of their own. He wanted to care for it and use it, not let it go wild and become an impenetrable thicket that could never be reclaimed. Worse, he feared she might be tempted to sell it for a few hundred pounds. Money that would soon be gone. He had an uneasy feeling about Paul. He actually felt that Paul was stealing his beloved daughter away, just when he most needed her.
Tessa woke up at Stonehenge with an odd feeling that nothing would ever be the same again. She’d slept wedged between Lou and Clare, in Lou’s faded one-person tent. It had been hard for her to switch back from creature comforts to the frugal reality of being a hippy. Paul wasn’t wild about her decision to go to Stonehenge. She looked at the ring on her finger and sighed. She felt like two people. The Tessa who paid her rent, went to work, and mothered Paul, and the Tessa who longed to go on crystal workshops, paint angels, and heal animals. The two Tessas seemed to be drifting apart.
She told Lou about her experience at the solstice. ‘It came right up my spine,’ she said, ‘this incredible buzz of energy – and it opened up at the top of my head like a golden flower made of light.’
‘Wow!’ Lou’s knowing eyes warmed with enthusiasm. ‘It’s the Kundalini, Tessa. You had a Kundalini awakening!’
‘The Kundalini? What’s that?’
‘It’s a release of power from the base of your spine,’ Lou told her. ‘It’s a life-changing gift, Tessa. Go easy on yourself. You’re in a state of transition.’
‘A lot of other people had it too,’ Tessa said. ‘I saw it. And together we filled the universe with golden, geometric mandalas. It was connected with the sunrise, the earth energy, and the music – like a mysterious blend of mathematics, music, and spirit.’
‘Wow,’ breathed Lou, studying Tessa’s eyes. ‘Not much impresses me now – but THAT is mind-blowing.’
Tessa nodded slowly. Lou was looking at her with such intensity, it was almost frightening.
‘But, Tessa’ Lou said, urgently, ‘don’t go back. Don’t go back to being a human.’
‘I HAVE to,’ Tessa said, looking at Paul’s ring on her finger. ‘But I know what you mean, Lou.’
‘Don’t waste your life – like I did,’ Lou said. ‘I’m nearly forty now, Tessa, and I wasted most of my youth on a binge of people-pleasing. It was a total waste, a mad, stupid delusion, and nobody got anything out of it except a sense of failure. I didn’t wake up spiritually until I was thirty five, and by then it was so hard to disengage from the family scene, stuff I’d spent my whole life building, blindly believing it was right. I’m warning you, Tessa, don’t do the same thing
. Don’t build yourself a cage and sit in it. You’re a tiger, girl.’
‘Yeah – Tyger, tyger, burning bright / In the forests of the night,’ Tessa quoted. ‘That’s me – a misunderstood tiger.’
‘Why am I not surprised?’ Lou’s eyes smouldered at Tessa from under her wide-brimmed hat. ‘You remember what I said.’
‘I will.’
‘So where are you going now, kiddo?’
‘For a mooch around. I want to see if Art’s bus is here.’
‘It’s not,’ Lou said. ‘And I asked a few guys who know him. No one knows where he is. No one’s seen him.’
Tessa still needed to look for herself, and see the stones in the morning light. ‘Then I’m going back to London to make myself look civilised, and tomorrow Paul’s taking me down to Mum and Dad’s place for Christmas.’
Lou groaned. ‘Family Christmas, eh? I used to like that once. Now I shall go up Glastonbury Tor with a sandwich, and sit there drumming out a message to the world.’
Tessa crawled out of the tent and looked at the encroaching line of policemen. The mist was rolling away into the distance, unveiling lemon sunlight on the bare white fields. A flock of redwings were working their way along a hawthorn hedge, some of them sitting around on the frozen ground, their feathers fluffed out in the cold, and a robin was pecking around the tents, searching for crumbs.
It didn’t take her long to see that Lou was right. Art’s bus wasn’t there. It hurt, but she was glad. A meeting with him now would set her right back into emotional turmoil. Starlinda had brought her out of that with a few chosen words. ‘You have to rise above the emotional body,’ she’d said, ‘into the shining light of your spiritual self.’ It had been a revelation to Tessa. Starlinda and Lou could not have been more different, yet she felt both women were guiding her. She leaned against one of the massive stones, thinking about what Lou had said. I have to be that tiger, she thought. I have to burn brightly, not get negative. I have to keep that Kundalini energy.
Freddie planted the Christmas tree into a metal bucket of soil and carried it indoors.
‘Don’t drop mud everywhere,’ cried Kate. ‘What a lovely bushy little tree.’
‘Ah – I made sure I got one with roots,’ Freddie said, and his eyes sparkled. ‘They wanted to sell me a dead one! I told ’em I didn’t want one chopped off – I want one I can plant afterwards. They let me dig this one up myself.’
‘It’s wonderful – well done.’ Kate’s smile made him feel wonderful too. Pleased, Freddie stood holding the vibrant Norwegian Spruce while Kate wrapped the bucket in scarlet crepe paper. A plywood tea-chest full of decorations was stashed under the table. He pulled it out, feeling the old excitement starting as he glimpsed familiar baubles and tarnished tinsel, dilapidated angels and Santas the girls had made when they were children. Relics of happy Christmases. Complete Christmases.
‘’Tis still like half a Christmas without Lucy here,’ Freddie said. ‘I wonder if she misses it. If she thinks about us.’
‘Of course she does,’ Kate said brightly. ‘We’ve got the parcel she sent – and the letter. Maybe one year we’ll go over there and have Christmas on the beach. Now – shall we leave the decorating for Tessa and Paul to do? I hope he likes our cardboard angels.’
Freddie glanced out of the window. ‘That’s not them surely?’ he said, seeing a car turning into the drive. ‘That’s a posh car – a Mercedes Benz.’
Kate was beside herself with excitement when she saw Tessa stepping out of the white Mercedes, looking fabulous in her Afghan coat, a mini skirt and high boots. Paul towered over her, in an expensive looking black overcoat with the collar turned up. Exactly the type of man Kate had dreamed of for her daughter. She beamed at Freddie. ‘He looks NICE, doesn’t he?’
‘We’ll see,’ Freddie said.
‘Let’s not make the same mistake we made with Tim,’ Kate said anxiously. ‘We’ve got to try and like him, even if we don’t.’
Freddie hardly heard her. He was already heading out in eager strides to meet Tessa. He waited on the doorstep, and Tessa ran across the frosty lawn and flung herself at him. ‘Dad! Oh Dad – I’ve missed you SO much.’
Freddie couldn’t speak. He smoothed her chestnut hair with his large hand, anticipating the moment when she looked up at him. Those pale blue eyes with a core of gold. Now they were full of stars, and the long curved lashes shiny with happy tears.
‘And Mum!’ Tessa opened an arm to include Kate in the hug, overwhelmed to see her radiant smile and feel her mum’s sturdy little body, always so solid and rooted firmly in the earth. Invincible, Tessa thought. ‘I’m so lucky to have you, Mum,’ she whispered.
Kate started to cry. ‘You’ve never said that before.’ She looked at Paul who was standing back respectfully. ‘Now who’s this handsome young man? I can’t wait to meet him.’
‘This is Paul.’
‘Paul,’ Kate repeated as if Paul was a pure gold ingot. She held out both hands, her bright brown eyes shining into his. Paul glowed. He put down his bag and let Kate hold both his hands and gaze at him with her irresistible warmth. Tessa smiled to herself, proud of her mum’s way of making a stranger feel like a long-lost friend.
Freddie held out his hand and the two men eyed each other. ‘Come in then,’ Freddie said. ‘’Tis cold out here, and we’ve got a roaring fire going.’ He picked up Tessa’s bag which was bulging with parcels. ‘And Kate’s got mince pies in the oven!’
Kate gave the white Mercedes a little pat. ‘What a fabulous car.’
‘It’s not mine,’ Paul said. ‘It’s my parents’ car.’
‘Better keep it clean, then,’ Kate said in a conspiratorial whisper. ‘It’s too nice for the kind of mud we have around here.’
Paul grinned. ‘I’ve already been threatened.’
Freddie followed them indoors, thinking about what he had seen in Paul’s hazel eyes. So different from Art’s steady confidence. Paul had the eyes of a damaged soul. His eyes didn’t match what his lips were saying. Not another one, Freddie thought privately, not another blimin’ conman who’s going to hurt my daughter.
On Boxing Day, Freddie suggested he took Tessa for a driving lesson. Tessa’s first thoughts on seeing the Morris Minor had been I could live in it and I can escape in it. She was already sketching her plan for painting it up in psychedelic colours. ‘Don’t go painting daisies on it. You’ll ruin the bodywork,’ Freddie warned, but Kate said brightly, ‘Well, it’s her car now. She can do what she likes with it.’
Paul seemed a wee bit jealous. ‘Lucky girl. My parents never gave me a car, even when I passed my test. But Amelia got a brand new Mini for her 21st. You can count me out,’ he added, ‘if this is a driving lesson. I don’t want to sit in the back with Tessa at the wheel!’
‘Very wise,’ said Kate. ‘You go, Tessa. Paul and I will sit by the fire and have a lovely chat.’
Tessa looked at Freddie, sensing his need to spend quality time with her, just the two of them, and she wanted that too. She wanted to tell him about Violetta, and about the solstice at Stonehenge.
‘We’ll go out on the old airfield, as you haven’t got your provisional licence yet,’ Freddie said, and he drove them to Westonzoyland, and let her get used to the feel of driving a car.
He was a patient teacher, encouraging and reassuring her. ‘You’re taking to it like a duck to water.’
But Tessa was shaking with nerves as she brought the car to a halt. ‘I’m not really a machine-friendly person, Dad, but I’ll get there.’
‘Can you get lessons in London?’ Freddie asked. ‘I’ll give you the money for them – but you shouldn’t take the car up there ’til you’ve passed your test.’
‘Thanks, Dad, you’re so kind to me.’ Tessa turned to look into his eyes. ‘Was this what you wanted to do today? Or is there something else?’
Freddie hesitated. She read the expression in his eyes. Concern, for her. Need. What did he need so badly when he had a good life with Ka
te? It came to her in a flash. Her dad needed her the way the children did; he needed inspiration and reassurance. He needed her light.
She told him about the solstice at Stonehenge and the Kundalini awakening. She held nothing back, and was rewarded by seeing him come alive, his eyes rounded with interest. Then she told him about Violetta, and he listened intently.
‘I know you banned me from talking about spirits,’ she said, ‘but the world is changing, Dad. People are waking up to spiritual truth and light like never before.’
‘Kate banned you from talking about it,’ Freddie said, ‘but I hope I never did.’
‘Living in London has changed me so much, Dad. I have to be careful what I say at work, and with Paul. But working with the children has been fantastic. They’ve taught me a lot.’
Freddie studied his daughter in surprise. ‘How could – what do you call ’em special needs? – how could children like that teach YOU?’ Privately he thought Tessa was wasting her life in such a job, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.
‘They need me, Dad. They suffer constantly, from failure and frustration, and relentless pressure from the adults in their life. What I can give them is simple, caring love. I accept them as they are, because I can see the shining light in their eyes, and all around them. They’re like angels in disguise, Dad.’
‘But what about your art?’ Freddie asked. ‘Don’t you ever paint a picture now?’
‘I don’t need to right now. But it’s always with me. I AM my art, Dad. Art can be invisible. I paint angels in children’s minds.’ She paused. The answer seemed to both satisfy and startle Freddie. She watched his aura grow brighter. ‘And I encourage them to study the natural world – yes, even in London. We watch buds opening, and plant seeds, and feed the birds. One day I caught a Red Admiral butterfly in a jar and the children were so excited and interested; they said the most amazing things, and when we set it free they cheered and clapped – why? – because they know in their little hearts that freedom matters, and caring for wild creatures matters.’
Born to Be Trouble Page 17
