by Aubade Teyal
Chapter Eight - Poker
They set off to Balreaig immediately after lunch.
'It's at least an hour's walk,' Mannik explained as they walked. 'There's a general store, which sells chocolate and pot noodles, a few houses and...um.... another school.'
'Oh? I thought it was just a small village.'
'Yeah, it is. A small village with a general store and a school.'
They had just reached the brow of a hill. Calgacos was already out of sight, and they were looking at a stretch of forest, like mist, settled on the land. There was no sight or sign of man, other than the worn mud track on which they walked.
'A small school?'
'No, Pineham is as big as us apparently, but quite different.'
'Local kids, normal subjects, no freaky teachers?' Lennox asked.
Mannik shook his head.
'I don't know about the teachers, but the kids aren't local. It's an elite, girls only, boarding school. The others talk about it... quite a bit.'
Lennox could imagine what they said. An all-boys school and an all-girls school only a few miles from each other and in the middle of the deserted Highlands, what else was there to talk about?
They reached the forest and entered its uneven canopy. Although the air was chill, it was a bright day, and the needles on the Scot's Pine trees splintered the sunlight into rainbows.
'Does the forest stretch all the way?' she asked.
Mannik mumbled a reply.
'What?'
'I don't know,' Mannik admitted. 'I've not been before.'
'You said you knew the way!'
'I think I do. I’ve watched the others go. And I…I wanted to go,' Mannik tried to explain. 'But you can't go on your own and you have to ask Kearns for permission...'
His voice tailed away into an embarrassed silence. He didn't need to say anymore. Lennox understood exactly. He had been too scared to ask, and there had been nobody to travel with.
Lennox found herself wondering, not for the first time, why Mannik's parents had sent him here. But it was Mannik who finally broke the silence and said what they both had been thinking.
‘It’s strange, but you are better suited to this school than I am, for all that you're a girl and I'm a boy.'
Lennox thought carefully before she answered.
'I don't think so.' she said at last. 'Without you, I'd be lost. If the situation was reversed, and I'd been here before you came, I would have been on my own, just like you were, except it would have been worse. I'm just lucky you were here.'
'Until you came, I was the new boy,’ Mannik explained, the words pouring out in a sudden torrent. ‘I only started in September. My parents weren't even allowed in. I was met in the courtyard by Kearns. He watched over us as I said goodbye. Then my Dad drove off and I was left. I knew as I watched the car disappear out the courtyard I was in trouble. I think even my dad knew this wasn't the right school for me. He drove off fast enough. That was the last time I saw him.'
'So why did your parents send you here?'
Mannik convulsed slightly, his head jerking from side to side.
'I've got 3 older brothers, did you know that?'
Lennox shook her head. She knew nothing about his family, and she never presumed anything. Her own family had taught her that, if you could call it a family. Were two people enough to constitute a family?
'And they all go to the local Grammar, Lanark. I thought I was going there too. I'd taken the exam. Got a scholarship too, just like my brothers, and I still have the letter in which they offered me a place.'
'So what happened?'
'So….my parents changed their minds.'
'What? Why?
Mannik shrugged and kicked the dirt as he walked, unearthing fresh soil.
‘They’d found this place instead. Somehow. Apparently it was just what I needed. Teach me to stand on my own two feet away from my brothers, they said'.
Mannik's prominent adam's apple darted up and down, and his unruly hair seemed to bristle with tension.
'They have no idea,' he laughed once, high and wild. 'No idea what they've done. On my first night, Gram...'
His voice dried up, like a shrivelled prune. His mouth was still open but nothing came out.
Lennox looked at him, and knew the feeling. Some things could not be spoken.
'I won’t let him lay a finger on you again,' she swore. 'I promise.'
Mannik's mouth snapped shut, but he nodded once, sharply, then quickened the pace. He was grateful, but he just couldn't say it. Lennox understood that too.
Balreaig was nestled by a curve in the river in the gentle Glen Sanda. Looking down from the two surrounding hills, it appeared to have no more than 100 or so houses. Pineham, the sprawling girl's school, was just as extensive as the village, and considerably more exclusive, with high red brick walls, and lawns as smooth as glass encircling the school like a moat.
On their way into the village, Lennox and Mannik walked past Pineham’s main gate, a polished chestnut wood that could have been brand new.
'Definitely different to Calgacos,' Lennox commented. 'No rot in sight.'
It was also closed tight, and there was neither sight nor sound of the girls.
'Do they ever let them out?' she asked.
'Not often according to Shergar. But apparently he's found a way in.'
Lennox looked again at the high walls and imposing gate. She assumed Shergar wasn't going in through the main gates. They looked like they only opened for chauffeur driven cars.
Balreaig appeared to be a simple, remote village. There were a few cars around, all of them parked, and a number of people heading on foot either to the general store, the pub or home. The benches in the village square were empty.
The square was lined by identical, grey stone terraced houses, apart from one small building which stood alone, an outsider, and appeared to have once been a shop as it had deep set mullioned windows. Outside was the sign: 'Library,' and underneath had been added 'Town Heritage Centre.
Lennox walked in, and straight up to the elderly gentlemen sat at a desk.
'Are there any books on local history here?' she asked.
Beneath his weathered skin, the elderly gentleman eyes brightened.
'There are indeed.'
The gentleman pushed his glasses up his nose with a blue veined, skeletal hand, and studied Lennox.
'What are you doing? A school project?'
'Yes,' Lennox agreed, looking round at the shelved walls and the sparse collection of books. 'And I need all the information I can get. Are there any books that mention Calgacos?'
The gentleman’s expression changed, his face splintering into a thousand wrinkles as he frowned.
'A school project, you say?’ he asked, ignoring her question. ‘But you're not from Pineham, are you? You can’t be. Not got one of their fancy uniforms, have you? But you’re a girl, and Calgacos doesn’t take girls. Never has. So which school do you come from?’
His watery gaze was stubbornly direct. He glanced over at Mannik, then back to Lennox.
‘I see you’re also with him, and Pineham would close before it accepted a boy. So you must be Calgacos. Somehow. Is that right?’
This was what she hated most, an inquisition, and from a stranger.
‘Yes, I am, And are there any books on Calgacos?’
‘So you come from Calgacos, you’ve walked over an hour to get here, to ask us for information, and books, on your school!’ His tone had turned in an instant. ‘Have you got nothing? No books, I’ll bet. Calgacos doesn’t really use books much does it? Not that kind of school.’
By her side, Lennox felt Mannik flinch. One minute he was with her, the next he was gone, out the door. He was probably waiting for Lennox out of sight, outside. This old man was not your typical librarian. For Mannik, he was sacrilegious.
‘Thanks for your help,’ she hissed. 'I’ll see what I can find on Calgacos myself.’
She spun round and almost wal
ked straight into a young man, hurrying forward. He had a small beard, hair cut brutally short, and smudged glasses hiding flickering eyelids. 'I'm Mr Finn, the librarian, I’m sorry I was out the back and didn’t see you come in. Can I help?’
‘…no,’ Lennox was taken by surprise. After the old man’s hostility, she was not prepared for Mr Finn’s friendliness.
But Mr Finn had more to say.
‘Did I hear you say Calgacos? Is that what you’re after? Books about Calgacos?’
‘We don’t have any,’ the old man grumbled from over her shoulder.
Lennox hurried forward, trying to get away from the old man. Mr Finn matched her, step for step.
‘And this is Mr Christie, my most loyal member,’ he explained, gesturing to the old man behind their backs.
'And only member, near enough,' Mr Christie interjected
'Allow me to explain,' Mr Finn continued, taking the lead, ushering Lennox forwards, as polite as Mr Christie was surly, 'What Mr Christie means is that there's nothing on the school, Calgacos.'
'Too damn right,' muttered Mr Christie.
'But we've got quite a bit on the castle. Here.'
He led the way over the shelves called the library, and pulled out two books and handed them to Lennox, Donnhegil; A History and The Clan that vanished.
Lennox frowned.
'What's Donnhegil?' she asked.
By the desk, Mr Christie snorted and rose to his feet.
'What's Donnhegil? I ask you. What do they teach up there? That's what I'd like to know. Nothing good's ever come out of that place.'
If he'd been younger, Mr Christie would have sailed from the room. As it was, he hobbled out the door. He lived the other end of the high street, and Mr Finn's chair was the last sit down he allowed himself before he reached his own stone wall.
'Donnhegil is the name of the castle,' Mr Finn explained, as Mr Christie left. 'Calgacos is the name of the school.'
As he spoke, he stared at Lennox. The girls from Pineham never came within a stone's throw of the Library and Heritage Centre, or Balreaig, and there was not a girl in the village who could compare with Lennox. With her translucent skin, ethereal eyes and lithe figure, it was difficult not to stare at her.
But Lennox hadn't noticed Mr Finn's sideways appraisal. She was staring at one of the books he had handed her.
'The clan that vanished,' she said, then added more softly. 'By Angus Christie.'
She looked up, just in time to see Mr Finn look away, and colour slightly.
'Your most loyal member?' she asked, looking out the window, where the elderly gentleman was making his way past the benches, and the people there, with a slight tilt of his hat.
'The same,' Mr Finn agreed, finding himself staring once again at Lennox.
'He doesn’t like Calgacos.'
'He doesn't like many people.'
‘What did he mean when he said nothing good ever comes out of Calgacos?'
'It’s got a bad reputation that's all, with some of the villagers.' Mr Finn explained.
'Why?'
'I don't really know. I'm not from Balreaig. So people round here don't gossip to me. I only know what Mr Christie tells me, and he doesn't normally talk about Calgacos, though he knows more about the area than anyone. Half the books in this library were written by him, that's why he's my most loyal member.'
Mr Finn attempted a fragile smile.
'I could probably arrange a book signing, if you'd like.'
The door opened and two boys raced in, and headed for a shelf of comics. They were followed by young, shy girl who stood just inside the door and looked lost, for all that it was a one room library.
'Excuse me,' Mr Finn said. 'Customers, at last!' and with a final, parting glance at Lennox, withdrew to the girl's side.
Lennox found Mannik outside lurking under a lone tree, hands deep in his pockets, head down.
He didn’t question her until they were out of the village, and then it was tentative.
‘Well?’ he asked.
‘Well?’ Lennox did not try to hide her irritation that he had deserted her, again. ‘Where were you?’
‘Outside.’
He didn’t try to question her again on the way home.
