Tapestry

by Fiona McIntosh

  William’s neighbour nodded in agreement and added, ‘The Earl even pulled off his coat and rolled up his sleeves to help, My Lord. He was most energetic.’

  Mackintosh gave a sneer. ‘Meanwhile, Mar lingers in Perth, impressed to learn that the Frasers, MacDonalds and Mackenzies have rallied.’

  Tomorrow would tell them whether the bridge would hold. William chose to sleep on the ground with his men in a barn. When Pollock protested, he hushed him.

  ‘In war we are equal, Pollock. We all bleed.’

  The next morning — as cold as its predecessor and, though not raining, just as sodden underfoot — William sought out Mackintosh, leaving instructions for his men to be ready to move at the given order.

  Old Borlum saw him coming and spat on the ground. William looked out across the fields to where the English Army was also readying itself.

  ‘Do you worry about the target you make?’ he asked, gesturing at the bright green, blue and red tartan the older man wore.

  The gruff highland leader curled a lip. ‘Aye, I might well have a target painted on my back, but I’d rather take a pike through my tartan than die in soft velvets.’

  William cleared his throat and grinned disarmingly. ‘The highlanders are certainly a force to be feared.’

  Old Borlum scowled. ‘Mar has received more men in the space of a week than all of Argyll’s army put together, and still he hesitates. He’ll get my highlanders slaughtered.’

  ‘Our barricades are strong at four points,’ William said.

  ‘Then pray it’s enough, laddie, for they’ll be over that bridge by midday, ye mark my words.’

  EIGHT

  London, December 1978

  Jane threaded her way back to the hotel at the Seven Dials, banishing memories as they erupted.

  The concierge opened the hotel door. ‘Good afternoon, Miss Granger,’ he said sombrely. Obviously word about Will had spread around. ‘Your parents have left messages.’

  She hurried through the foyer, deliberately not making eye contact with any of the counter staff, who tried to capture her attention with notes. Then she walked briskly around the corner to the lifts. The trip up to the fifth floor felt like an eternity. Back in her room, she flopped onto the bed, still in her coat, and closed her eyes to prevent herself from crying. She took slow, deep breaths until her heart felt as though it had stopped racing.

  Robin was right. What was she fighting it for? She would let Will go with his parents. There was nothing to be done for him here. The decision was made and it felt like a monstrous weight had lifted from her burdened shoulders. Before she could change her mind, she reached for the phone and called her parents.

  Her father was silent until she’d finished speaking. ‘You sound very sure.’

  ‘I am sure, Dad. I don’t like the alternatives. I’m going to give him this chance. If it doesn’t work, I’ll face the next big decision then.’

  She heard him sigh and whisper something, presumably to her mother. ‘Are you back in the hotel?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. I’m going to try and sleep once I’ve spoken to the Maxwells.’

  ‘I suggest you sleep on that decision before you share it with them. But in the end it’s up to you, love. Your mother and I would really like you to go and see someone called Hollick. He’s been recommended by Uncle Dick.’ She knew her parents had been muttering between themselves about seeking some professional counselling for her.

  ‘Dad … is this a psychiatrist?’

  ‘Pyschologist,’ her father corrected, as if it made all the difference.

  ‘I’m not mad, Dad. I’m sad.’ The rhyming made it sound comical, but neither of them laughed as they might have in another situation.

  ‘I didn’t say you were mad,’ he replied quickly, not entirely masking his frustration. ‘In fact, you’re one of the most clear-thinking people I know. It’s why I’ve trusted your decisions all of your life, even when you wanted to marry Will in such a rush.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Jane …’ he began, sounding dictatorial. Then his voice softened. ‘I’ve never known you to be anything but your own girl. Will seemed to smother your natural inclination to be …’

  So her dad had also noticed. Typical! They were too alike. ‘To be what, Dad?’

  She heard him sigh gently. ‘To be you. He speaks for you, I noticed.’

  ‘Isn’t that how it is when people fall for one another? They begin to think for their partner?’ She knew she sounded defensive.

  ‘Of course, love. Sorry, I’m just used to outspoken, darling Jane. I’m not used to you deferring to anyone.’

  ‘I’m not, Dad. I promise.’

  ‘Good. Don’t let Maxwell senior bully you either. Do this because you want to. Anyway, I do think talking through your pain with a professional will be helpful.’

  She didn’t have the strength to argue. Besides, it was another diversion. ‘When?’

  ‘Your mother made an appointment for tomorrow at 10.30. He’s in Harley Street.’

  ‘Of course he is,’ she said, not meaning to sound as sarcastic as she did. ‘All right, Dad,’ she said softly. ‘If it brings you and Mum some peace of mind.’ She pictured them sitting side by side on the hotel bed a floor below, both listening in.

  ‘It would.’

  ‘Fine. Don’t worry about me for dinner.’

  Her mother chimed in, proving Jane’s suspicions correct. ‘Darling, please, you have to keep your strength up and your sister’s arriving this evening. She’ll want to see you.’

  ‘I just want to rest. Please don’t worry. If I wake up at a reasonable hour, I’ll call. If not, I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast.’

  There was a pause and the sound of scuffling; her father must have taken back the handpiece. ‘We’ll check in on you later, Jane.’ Clearly they didn’t trust her state of mind. ‘You take your time … rest.’

  ‘Thanks, Dad. I love you.’

  She heard the click of the phone. Distantly she registered the hum of the hotel lifts, the sigh of the heating in the room, the faint growl of traffic below, but mostly she was aware of the coo of the doves — or were they pigeons? — fluttering and landing intermittently on her balcony. One pair marched up and down the railing, male wooing female intently, cooing and begging her to capitulate. Was it true that doves mated for life? She wasn’t sure, but she liked the notion that they might. She knew some birds did give their lives to each other. Swans did, she was sure. And if one died, the romantics believed the other would grieve itself to death.

  Her mind was drifting. Will isn’t dead, her internal voice assured, refocusing her. He’s sleeping, waiting for you.

  But waiting for her to do what?

  She heard Robin’s question in her mind. Where is Will’s special place?

  Where indeed? She sat up, balancing on her elbows, too troubled to sleep and yet too tired to think about being anywhere but quietly here in bed. But life had taught her that action was better than inaction in most circumstances, and certainly in this instance.

  She remembered Will’s parents and immediately rang their hotel, Claridge’s. She had to leave a message, realising now that they were both probably still at the hospital.

  ‘Yes, thank you. Can you tell Mr Maxwell that I’ve reached a decision? Please ask him, or Mrs Maxwell, to call me when they can.’ She waited for the inevitable question. ‘Yes, it’s Jane.’ Pause. ‘No, just Jane. They know.’ Another pause. ‘Yes, they have it.’ She was sure Will’s father would already have spoken to her parents at this hotel.

  She pulled off her coat, scarf and boots and looked around the room, which was still scattered with Will’s belongings. She was planning a shower, but absently moved around touching his things, even smelling one of his sweaters to inhale his cologne. She ran a finger across his old leather briefcase, stuffed and overflowing with books and files containing his notes. She sucked in a breath, suddenly remembering the talk he was giving in Scotland. Had someo
ne let them know up there? She dug around in the briefcase to find his diary.

  Several minutes later she ended another call, trembling from the stress of having to explain to the event manager, and then again to a professor at the university, what had occurred. They’d both heard the reports about the attack, but no name had yet been released.

  She ran a shaking hand across her face, recalling the shocked silence of the woman on the other end and how, eventually, her lovely Scottish accent did its best to give the appropriate responses. Jane understood it was all anyone could do, yet the words felt hollow, fell so very short of the mark in easing her pain. The sympathy, the gentle voice, the wishing for everything to become well again just made it worse, in truth.

  Snatching two tissues from the nearby box and sniffling into them, she opened a folder from Will’s briefcase, flicking through the pages of the speech he’d laboured over. She felt a deep pang as she remembered how he’d anguished over hitting just the right note for this presentation and would never give it. In a brief flash of bright-coloured madness, she toyed with the notion of delivering the talk on his behalf. Rationality returned as she realised that she wouldn’t make it through the first few sentences of his presentation without breaking down. Besides, she didn’t know anything worthwhile about ley lines, and hardly anything about his research project as a whole.

  Her gaze absently scanned the carefully written words, the letters large so he could refer to the notes easily.

  However, Alfred Watkins, an amateur archaeologist who coined the term ‘ley line’, meant it as a way of describing a clearing. From a height, Watkins could map clear straight tracks, which he claimed were ancient trade routes. New Agers, UFO believers, dowsers, witches and warlocks claim they hide a mysterious energy, which only a few can tap into. And now our concept of the ley lines has expanded to include what are known as Earth vortices — places on our planet that hold enormous and inexplicable natural energies. The major ‘Earth vortices’ include Sedona in Arizona, Mount Everest in Nepal, Nasca in Peru, Stonehenge in England, and my personal favourite, Ayers Rock in Australia. ‘Uluru’, as I prefer to call it out of respect for its Aboriginal custodians — the Anangu — is believed to record the Dreamtime activities of the Anangu’s ancestors from thousands of years ago. It connects the Anangu with their forebears and glows red like the blood that still runs pure —

  Her reading was interrupted by the shrill ring of the telephone on the desk where she was sitting. She snatched it. Predictably, it was Will’s father.

  ‘Hello, John.’

  ‘Jane, sorry, darlin’. I’ve only just been able to pick up your message.’

  It annoyed her briefly that he suddenly sounded so like Will. It was just the American accent, she assured herself. Yet she also realised they were sharing an awkward pause, and although it was barely more than a couple of heartbeats in length, in that time everything about her miserable situation shifted from confused to sparklingly clear. Jane could almost hear chimes in her head as a crystal light winked and seemed to take her hand and guide her in a straight line.

  Will must go to America to be saved.

  And Jane would go to Australia to save him.

  Where is Will’s special place? Robin had asked. She hadn’t been able to answer then, but she could now.

  He would want to go to Uluru, where some insisted that one of the Earth’s greatest magical vortices existed. She knew from his excited chatter that it was a site of immense sacred significance and of strong spirituality. It was the destination he had chosen when she asked him a question nearly identical to the one Robin had posed! How could she have forgotten Will’s answer?

  Perhaps waiting there in the desert were more answers for her. Was that what Robin had been getting at? Was that his clue, the pathway that he was trying to show her … the straight track to Ayers Rock and redemption? Would she find deliverance at this vortex? If the realisation hadn’t been so traumatic, Jane was sure she would have found herself laughing. She was even thinking in the right terminology.

  ‘So, Jane, you … er … you said you’d reached a decision,’ John murmured awkwardly at her ear.

  She blinked herself out of her roaming thoughts, surprised by the sudden release she felt.

  ‘Yes. I … I agree he should go with you. He must have this chance.’

  She could feel his relief sizzling down the phone.

  ‘Thank you, Jane. Wow, you impress me. I want you to know, kid, I truly believe this is the right path to take.’ His words resonated. ‘Will you come with us?’

  ‘No.’ She hadn’t meant to sound so convinced or answer so fast. ‘Er … I’m going to be doing something else for Will.’

  He couldn’t hide the surprise in his voice. ‘Not coming? How can you help him if you’re not with him? You’re his fia—’

  Don’t say it! Don’t undermine me. She forced her voice to sound positive. ‘Will wanted to go to Ayers Rock.’

  ‘Ayers Rock? What, that huge monolith in Aussie?’ Americans never quite grabbed on to that terminology correctly, did they? she thought absently as she formulated her excuse.

  ‘Central Australia was on his must-do list. He wanted to take me there.’

  ‘So?’ Now he just sounded belligerent.

  ‘So, I’m going, John. I’m going for both of us,’ she pressed, more firmly now.

  ‘Why?’

  I don’t know why! Robin seems to think it’s the right path! her internal voice screamed at him. ‘Because it’s what he’d want,’ she said instead, sounding softly exasperated. ‘It was going to be our honeymoon destination,’ she lied, grabbing at the only plausible excuse she could think of. ‘I have to do this. It’s where he wanted to go — it was one of the last things we were talking about before he … Anyway, my mind’s made up,’ she said, sounding far surer than she felt inside. ‘I’m going to take something of him with me and go there for him.’

  ‘He didn’t tell me he was marrying into Heaven’s Gate.’

  She didn’t know what Heaven’s Gate was, but it sounded like a slap, an insult. However, she didn’t back down, her father’s warning burning in her mind. ‘And he didn’t tell me his father was so narrow-minded. Now, I’m giving you and Diane what you want —’

  ‘I should think we all want the same thing,’ he cut in.

  ‘… But I’m no help to Will in his present state.’

  ‘You don’t know that. I’m sure the doctors would like the love of his life nearby, talking to him, trying to get through to him.’ He couldn’t disguise the sarcasm in the words love of his life. She loathed him in that moment, and wondered how a man with his personality had produced such a gentle soul as Will. ‘How does rushing off to a fucking big, red rock in the middle of Australia help my son?’

  ‘Listen, John, swear at me again and I won’t take your calls — as well as which, I may just refuse you the freedom you want with your son. Remember the Baltimore adventure is your idea, not mine.’ It felt good to assert herself. This was the Jane she preferred. ‘I’m supporting you because I agree we have to give Will every possible chance. He may be your son, but please don’t forget that I’m entrusting you with my fiancé. And while you’re putting your faith in science and medicine, let me balance it up with the potential healing of the spiritual plane.’ She was breathing hard, feeling the anger creeping past her defences. She didn’t believe in Will’s hippy-trippy stuff either, but now she definitely wasn’t going to back down. Either she defied Maxwell, or became his doormat. ‘Don’t ever think Will wasn’t into it,’ she added as a final barb. ‘He was a researcher who demanded fact, but he also loved the notion of the mystical.’

  ‘Prayers, you mean?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, because it gave him a simple explanation for something she suspected he would never even try to understand or engage with. Despite Will’s determination to find hard research-based evidence for the ley lines, she knew he was still drawn to the magical qualities they possessed for some people
. She could hear it in her mind while reading his notes … portals to other worlds. ‘I’m going to say a prayer for him in a special place that was extremely important to him and his work. Since he can’t go there, I’ll make the pilgrimage for him.’

  ‘Mumbo-jumbo bullshit, Jane. You surprise me. You really didn’t strike me as one of those lunatics. But you’ve said okay and that’s what matters to me, kiddo. Just be at the hospital tomorrow to sign the paperwork we need to release Will.’

  ‘I have to be there, anyway. The police have more questions. They will have interviewed all the potential witnesses; there will be plenty of people who saw what happened.’

  He waited, and when she said no more he continued, but in a softer tone. ‘Listen, honey. He chose you to be our daughter-in-law. We haven’t had a chance to get to know you, but in time I think we’ll understand each other better. I’m sorry if I sound unreasonable; my boy comes first right now. If you want to go off on some madcap lark that helps you get your mind straight, that’s fine. But come back to him soon — he’ll need you. You may be the one who saves his life.’

  That’s what I plan to do, she wanted to say, but instead cleared her throat. ‘This is something I have to do. And now the decision is made it feels right. You yourself said we have to try everything we can to save him. Well, I’m trying everything — I’m letting you take him away from me and then I’m going in search of answers.’

  They exchanged strained goodbyes, but once Jane had hung up, she felt a fresh energy racing through her. Ayers Rock. At least now she had a plan; she had some direction. Back in control! She was going to climb to the top of the great Earth vortex and she was going to write Will’s name in the book at its summit. And then he would open his eyes and speak her name. She knew it was a curious thing to believe, but somehow it felt right. This was what Robin had been referring to, she was convinced. At last she was thinking clearly — or rather, seeing clearly.