Heather Song

by Michael Phillips

  “I knew that you and the duke went to see him occasionally, but I…that is, I thought that was because the duke had business with him. I didn’t dream you would go by yourself.”

  “What are you talking about?” I laughed again. “I’ve visited him a dozen times. He was one of my first friends here.”

  “But don’t you know what they say?”

  “What—you mean how the children are afraid of him? Of course I know about it. But that’s all nonsense.”

  “It’s not just children,” said Alicia slowly. “And it’s not all nonsense.”

  Her tone made me shiver. A weird sense of foreboding swept through me like a cloud had briefly passed overhead.

  “What do you mean, Alicia? You’re not afraid of him, are you?”

  “I don’t…No, not really, I mean…of course not,” she answered. But her tone and fumbling were hardly convincing.

  “Then come with me. We’ll have a good time. If you don’t want to visit Ranald, we’ll just have a walk up the Bin.”

  She agreed, though reluctantly. We packed a light lunch and set off between eleven and noon. By then I had managed to coax Alicia mostly back out from under the spell that had come over her so suddenly. It was a fabulous day, warm and bright, fragrant and with just the lightest breeze to keep the air interesting and to prevent it from being sultry. We talked freely as we went, more than we had since she had helped me get ready for the wedding. I told her about Canada and my childhood and about my hippie parents, and even some about my first marriage, which I’d not spoken about to anyone locally except a mention or two to Alasdair and Iain and Ranald.

  As we set out, since it had been my idea, I assumed I was leading the way. But as we went it gradually became obvious that I was following her. She left the path I always took to the Bain croft and struck through the woods, veering a little farther south than my usual route. A few minutes later I found that we were indeed on a trail, though I hadn’t noticed when it had become one. Obviously, I realized, Alicia had grown up here and probably knew every path as well as she did her own backyard.

  Most of the way took us through light woods blanketed with mossy undergrowth. At last we met the Bin trail coming from the south and began climbing the final steep slope, and I saw the trail of my usual path joining us.

  We ate lunch at the summit. It was clear and beautiful as far as the eye could see. Alicia pointed out landmarks I hadn’t known from previous visits.

  Suddenly a low roar sounded in the distance.

  “What is that?!” I asked. “I hear it all the time. At first I thought it was thunder, but there isn’t a cloud in the sky.”

  “It’s the RAF airfield at Lossiemouth…just there,” said Alicia, pointing west along the coast. “It’s probably a fighter jet taking off. Yes, look—there it is!”

  About thirty miles away now, we saw a tiny speck banking almost straight up from the ground. Another roar sounded as a second jet took off. In seconds it had joined the first and was out of sight.

  Peaceful silence again came to the top of the Bin. But not for long.

  “Look, here they come,” said Alicia, pointing again.

  Out over the water straight ahead of us the two planes were visible again, and coming our way. They looked like birds in the distance, except they were moving too fast to be birds. Within seconds they were nearly overhead. Still we heard no sound. They zoomed over us frighteningly low with unbelievable speed.

  “Plug your ears!” shouted Alicia, clasping her hands to her head.

  The next instant a thunderous explosion followed. Even as the delayed sound hit, already the jets were nearly out of sight.

  “I never get tired of watching them,” said Alicia when stillness again reigned at the top of Crannoch Bin. “I have always been fascinated with airplanes. My father was in the RAF. Maybe that’s why. That roar of a jet engine always sends a thrill through me. Can I tell you one of my secret dreams?” she added, looking at me with what was almost a girlishly timid smile.

  “Yes, of course. Please do!”

  “It’s a little embarrassing, especially to tell you.”

  “What do you mean, me? Why shouldn’t you tell me?”

  “You’re an important lady now, a duchess. Why should you care about me and my silly notions?”

  “Alicia! How can you say that?”

  “But you are.”

  “I’m still the same me I always was. I don’t want to hear any more nonsense about me being an important lady. I would love for you to share it with me.”

  “All right—but you must promise not to laugh.”

  “I promise.”

  She glanced away. It seemed she was still staring after the two airplanes that had disappeared beyond the horizon.

  “I would like to fly,” she said at length. “Not with wings, not like an angel, I mean…you know, actually learn to fly an airplane.”

  “That is a big dream! Wouldn’t you be scared?”

  “I don’t know—maybe a little. But I grew up hearing my father talk about flying as if it were no different than driving a car. Of course, I can’t drive a car either!” She laughed. “But I would still like to learn to fly. Maybe some day,” she added wistfully.

  “I think it’s an exciting thought,” I said. “I would be frightened to death. But I was frightened when I first came to Scotland by myself, too. That was my dream, and look what happened!”

  “Yes, but you’re more adventurous than me.”

  “I never was. I’ve only had one adventure in my life…and this was it!”

  “They don’t get much more exciting than marrying a duke and coming to live in a castle!” Alicia said with a light laugh.

  “Does your father still fly?” I asked.

  “He did. He was a pilot.”

  “Is he retired?”

  “He’s dead,” replied Alicia with abrupt matter-of-factness.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Did he have an accident or something?”

  “No. He retired, then died of a heart attack two years later.”

  “Oh.” I nodded. “And your mother?”

  “She’s in a home in Elgin,” replied Alicia. “She has Alzheimer’s. I visit her twice a week, but she doesn’t know who I am.”

  “That must be terribly hard,” I said.

  Alicia nodded and smiled sadly.

  Ever since I’d known her I had been curious about Alicia’s past, especially why she wasn’t married. She was attractive enough, yet she seemed to have lived a lonely existence in the castle all these years. Of course, so had Alasdair. Maybe she had been married? Why hadn’t she and Alasdair married? They were about the same age.

  Now my thoughts were running away with themselves! None of it was any of my business.

  Except that now I was Alasdair’s wife. Technically Alicia worked for me now, too. I was interested. I wanted to know her. Besides, she was my friend. At least I hoped she could become my friend. Up till now we had been what you might call friendly acquaintances. I hoped our relationship would grow to become deeper than that.

  “Have you ever been married?” I blurted out after several seconds. The words just came out, but I let them stand.

  Alicia said nothing for a long time. Slowly another smile came to her lips. But this, like the last, was a sad smile.

  “No,” she said softly. Again it was silent. It was obvious she was reminiscing. I waited.

  “I was engaged once,” she said after three or four minutes.

  Another smile followed that spoke of happy memories. “It didn’t work out.”

  “What happened?” I asked. “I mean…I’m sorry—I don’t mean to pry. I’m just interested. But you don’t have to tell me if—”

  “No, that’s all right,” said Alicia. “It’s no big deal, really. He met someone else, that’s all, and called off the engagement. I suppose it happens all the time.”

  “Not exactly all the time. It must have been awful.”

  Alicia shrugged. “I gu
ess it was. But in a way I suppose I half expected it.”

  “What was his name?” I asked.

  “It was Max…Max Urquhart.”

  I stared back at her with wide eyes, wondering if I’d heard her right.

  “You don’t mean Olivia’s husband?” I said.

  Alicia nodded.

  “I had no idea. I didn’t realize you were from around here. With your father in the RAF, I assumed you had moved around.”

  “We did when I was very young. My only memories are of living in Port Scarnose. I started school here and have been here ever since.”

  “So you knew Olivia…before?”

  “All my life. We were close friends…well, as close as any of us could have been to Olivia. But of course after Max, that all changed. I hated her, but neither could I escape her.”

  “You weren’t working for Alasdair at the time?”

  “Oh, no—that came later. I worked part-time for his father and mother. Then after the duke’s first marriage, when he went away, they asked me to come live at the castle to help keep things in order. When the duke returned, I just sort of went with the place. He kept me on, and here I am.”

  “Had you and Alasdair known one another well…before, I mean?”

  “Well enough, I suppose. He was just Olivia’s brother to me. Then he went away to university and I hardly saw him again.”

  “So there was never anything between the two of you?”

  “Oh, no,” replied Alicia, as if the idea were absurd. “How could there be? I was under the spell.”

  Her words took a few seconds to register. Before I could ask her what she meant, suddenly sounds from behind us interrupted the serenity of our picnic that had grown so serious. I turned to see a family of six hikers arrive, with four loud and energetic children and two rambunctious dogs that immediately began investigating our lunch. We scrambled to our feet and put our things away. We were through anyway and it was time to begin our descent, which I still hoped would result in a visit with Ranald Bain.

  When we came to my usual path, I took it and Alicia followed. The easy slope down through the woods was much the same as the route we had taken before. But when we climbed the stone steps Ranald had placed into the wall bordering his meadow, Alicia became quiet, and she glanced several times in the direction where I knew the cottage lay. She clearly knew exactly where we were. I turned to cross the meadow in the direction of Ranald’s house. Alicia hesitated.

  “I told you, Marie,” she said, “I am not going to that man’s house. You do whatever you want, but I am going back down to the castle.”

  I stopped and turned around. “Do you know the way?” I asked.

  She gave a little laugh. “I could find my way blindfolded,” she answered. “We used to come up here all the time.”

  “Alicia, please,” I said. “I would really like you to meet Mr. Bain. He is a delightful man. I know you’ll find that he is—”

  “Marie,” she interrupted forcefully. “I will not set foot in that man’s house.” Her voice was strange, distant, impersonal, like nothing I had ever heard from her before.

  “But why, Alicia? Tell me why. What are you afraid of?”

  “It has a curse on it.”

  Without intending to, I broke out laughing for a moment. The look on Alicia’s face stopped me cold.

  “A curse?” I said. “How could that be? I’ve been there a dozen times. It’s a wonderful place.”

  “You’ve not actually been…You didn’t go inside?” said Alicia, her voice full of fear.

  “Of course,” I replied, laughing lightly again.

  “Oh, Marie!” she wailed in a horrible and forlorn sound. “Don’t you know what happens to people who tempt the curse? Don’t you know about his wife and daughter? They’re dead, Marie…dead. What have you done?!”

  I couldn’t imagine what had come over her. She was almost hysterical.

  Shaking her head and wailing, Alicia turned to run away.

  But as she spun around, her first step took her headlong straight into Ranald Bain, who had been walking noiselessly toward us. How much he had heard, I didn’t know.

  Alicia shrieked in terror and leaped back. I hurried to her and tried to calm her. She was trembling from head to foot.

  “Hello, Marie,” said Ranald calmly. Then in the most kindly voice imaginable, he added, “Hello, Alicia. I am happy to see you again. It has been many years.”

  Alicia only stared at him, her face pale, her body trembling. She was stiff and unmoving and made no attempt to leave my side.

  Ranald stood where he was and moved no closer.

  “Who put the curse on my house, Alicia?” he said. His voice, too, was unlike I had ever heard it—soft but commanding. He was staring straight into her eyes.

  It was obvious he had heard the gist of our conversation.

  “I…I don’t…Why would I know?” she mumbled.

  “Who, Alicia? Were you there? Did you hear it?”

  Slowly Alicia nodded.

  “Who put the curse on my house, Alicia?” Ranald persisted. The command in his tone was unmistakable.

  Alicia seemed trying to speak. Her features were contorted, her eyes blinking, her mouth twitching strangely. Some terrible otherworldly battle was taking place, with Alicia in the middle of it.

  At last her lips began to tremble. Finally she uttered a single word. It was but faintly audible.

  “Olivia,” she whispered. The moment the name passed her lips, her body collapsed and I grabbed for her.

  I nearly fell backward from the sudden weight. Ranald hastened to my side. We eased Alicia to the ground, where I knelt to support her. Her eyes were closed.

  I glanced up at Ranald with a bewildered look on my face.

  “She will come to herself shortly,” he said. “She will be spent. Get her home where she can rest, but do not speak of this unless Alicia brings it up herself. Otherwise, today’s work is done. When she is ready, give her something to eat.”

  And with that, leaving me more perplexed than ever, Ranald Bain walked across the meadow toward his cottage. A minute after he was out of sight, Alicia’s eyes began to flutter. She groaned, I helped her slowly to her feet, and, holding on to steady her, we began making our way home.

  Chapter Ten

  A Girl’s Power

  I am in love I cannot deny it

  My heart lies troubled in my breast

  It’s not for me to let the world know it

  A troubled heart can find no rest.

  —“Peggy Gordon”

  Alicia clung limply to my side all the way back to the castle. She was completely compliant, did not seem anxious about whether Ranald was around, and said nothing.

  We reached the castle. I took her to her bedroom, then returned downstairs to the kitchen to fix her a light snack. She was able to eat but two or three bites of apple and oatcake. Within minutes she was sound asleep on top of her bed in the clothes she had worn for the walk.

  I left her with much to reflect on. I had never seen such a dramatic change come over anyone as what I had witnessed in Alicia. I was glad Alasdair wasn’t back from his meeting in Fochabers. Normally I would have gone straight to him and told him everything. But this wanted thinking out. I wasn’t absolutely sure I should even tell Alasdair. As much as I loathed the idea of keeping something from him, I did not want to say or do anything that might in some way compromise his thoughts toward Alicia. She had been devoted to him for years.

  When Alasdair returned about three-thirty, I fixed tea and took a tray with some oatcakes out to the rose garden and we sat down together. By then I was ready to talk. He told me about his meeting, then asked how I had passed the day. I told him that Alicia and I had walked to the Bin with a light picnic lunch.

  “Two jets took off from Lossiemouth when we were at the summit,” I said. “They screamed overhead so loud and close, it was terrifying. The ground shook!”

  “I remember hearing them, too,” Alasdai
r said, chuckling. “Growing up around here, you get used to it. Of course all the boys love it and dream of being pilots one day.”

  “Did you?”

  “Sure. We all did.”

  “Alicia loves airplanes, too. She told me her father actually was an RAF pilot.”

  “Really—I didn’t know that.”

  He thought a moment.

  “Funny, isn’t it,” he mused, “how you don’t know people as well as you think. We were around one another all the time as children, but I never knew anything about Alicia’s parents.”

  “Oh?”

  “She was in my sister’s little clique of friends.”

  “So she knew the castle as a girl, then later became your housekeeper.”

  Alasdair became thoughtful again. I was afraid he would go back into that peculiar mood that had come over him at seeing me having tea with Alicia and the other women two weeks earlier. Luckily he didn’t.

  “Alicia was first hired by my father, as I recall,” he said, “when I was down at Oxford if I’m not mistaken. Then I came back and had all my trouble. As she had never married, she stayed on. She maintained the place with a semblance of order during my absence, as well as after I returned. I don’t know what I’d have done without her.”

  “Why did she not marry?” I asked. “She is attractive, bright, capable.”

  “There were several young men, as I recall,” replied Alasdair. “I don’t actually know, to tell you the truth. I was in England during those years. Now that I think of it, she was involved with Max for a time—Olivia’s husband, you know. I didn’t know the circumstances. I was much too sophisticated in my own eyes to pay much attention to my sister’s love life. But now that I think of it, it seems Alicia and Max might even have been serious at one time. Suddenly it was off, and the next thing we knew it was Olivia walking down the aisle on our father’s arm. I was still in England and only came north for the wedding and was then away again. When I next returned a year and a half later, our father was dead, I was the new duke, and my thoughts were too full of Fiona to think much about Olivia’s childhood friends. I’m sorry for bringing her up, my dear,” he added with an apologetic smile.