On the Edge of Darkness

by Barbara Erskine

  It was a few days after Adam took his final exam the following summer that he saw Brid again. She was waiting for him, as she had once before, near his house, and she dived on him as he climbed off his bicycle after a visit to Robbie to celebrate the start of the holidays.

  ‘A-dam! A-dam! Where have you been? I have come for three days!’ She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth, then she pushed him away and punched him gently in the stomach. ‘You forget Brid?’

  ‘No.’ Recovering from the shock of seeing her, his face broadened into a smile. ‘No, I never forget Brid. How did you get back? What about your uncle?’

  She smiled, and put her finger to her lips. ‘I have persuaded him to be nice. I will tell you later.’ She glanced round. ‘Is it safe for me here?’ She looked nervously up the street. She would never tell him the fear she had felt when she saw her first car, a black Alvis belonging to James Ferguson from Birnam, roaring along the narrow road leaving a trail of blue smoke.

  Adam followed her gaze and then glanced back at the house. Behind him the manse would be empty. Jeannie Barron would have gone on the bus into Perth as she usually did on a Wednesday and his father would be visiting the cottage hospital. He nodded. ‘No one will see us.’ He smiled at her, still holding her hand. ‘I tell you what, shall I fetch some cake?’

  ‘Chocolate cake?’ She looked at him archly.

  ‘Maybe.’

  She followed him nervously around the back of the house and even more hesitantly in at the back door.

  ‘It’s all right. There’s no one here.’

  He beckoned up the passage towards the kitchen.

  ‘It’s big. Like a castle.’ She tiptoed over the flags in awe.

  ‘No it’s not.’ He flung open the kitchen door and stopped in surprise. Jeannie Barron was standing at the table, up to her elbows in flour, rolling pastry.

  It was too late to turn back. She had looked up and seen him. ‘Well, young man. Did you have a good visit with Robbie? Did you remember to tell him to say hello from me to his grandmother – ’ She broke off abruptly as she saw Brid hovering behind him. ‘So, who is this?’

  Adam watched her eyes move quickly up and down, taking in Brid’s long hair, her embroidered tunic, her soft leather skirt and her laced sandals. Her frown was so quickly hidden he wondered if he had imagined it.

  ‘So, lassie, come in and let’s be seeing you.’

  Brid hesitated and Adam, turning, took her hand with a reassuring smile. ‘This is Brid. Brid, this is Jeannie who makes chocolate cakes.’

  Brid’s face lit into a smile. ‘I like chocolate cake.’

  Jeannie nodded. ‘I thought he couldn’t have been eating them all by himself. Well, if you look in the pantry you’ll find a new one I made specially for him.’ She turned back to her dough. ‘And what kind of a name is Brid, if I may ask?’ Like Adam she had pronounced it Breed.

  ‘It’s short for Bridget,’ Adam put in hastily. ‘Sort of a nickname.’

  ‘I see. And where do you come from then, lass? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.’

  ‘She lives in a village the other side of Ben Dearg,’ Adam answered for her again. ‘Her brother is the stone mason there.’

  ‘I see. And you’ve no tongue in your head?’ Once more the quick shrewd glance. Jeannie Barron had summed Brid up at once. A pretty tinker child, or perhaps foreign. More likely the latter in view of her silence. And besotted with young Adam, if she were any judge.

  Adam had emerged from the pantry with the plate.

  ‘Greaseproof is over there.’ The floury hand waved towards the dresser. ‘Then get you both from under my feet, if you please. I’m here today so I can have Friday off and stay with my sister the whole weekend, and I’ve a lot to do before I’m away.’

  Outside Brid rounded on him. ‘I thought you said it would be safe. That is not your mother?’

  ‘No. I told you. My mother’s gone away.’ Adam was fairly sure Jeannie would not mention the visit to his father.

  ‘So, it is the woman who looks after the priest?’

  He frowned. ‘I wish you wouldn’t call him a priest. It sounds so papist. I told you. He’s a minister.’

  ‘Sorry, A-dam.’ She looked contrite. ‘She makes nice cake.’ Then, as she did so often she changed the subject, abruptly and without a second thought, dismissing Jeannie as no longer worthy of interest. ‘Come. We go find Gartnait.’

  They did, but not before she had pounced on Adam in the shelter of the lonely screed valley on the north side of the waterfall and laughingly begun to pull off all his clothes.

  ‘A-dam! You are tall and big!’ Her glance was deliberately provocative. She stood in front of him and slipped her tunic up over her naked breasts. ‘Me too. I am big now.’

  ‘Indeed you are.’ He smiled. In the twelve months since he had last seen her, her breasts and hips had rounded and her slim child’s legs had become more shapely.

  They made love again and again and then after a respectful handful of cake had been given to the Lady in the waterfall they swam under the icy cascade. Afterwards they found a sheltered patch of sunlight where the wind couldn’t chill them, and lay on the flat rocks to dry.

  ‘I have studied the omens.’ Brid was staring up at the sky. ‘You and I will be together forever. I read the entrails of a doe before I ate her flesh as a cat. She told me so.’

  ‘Brid!’ Adam sat up. ‘You are joking? That’s disgusting!’

  ‘No.’ She smiled at him and pushed him back, her fingers playfully clawed as she raked them gently over his chest. ‘I not joke.’

  He stared up into her eyes and for an instant he was appalled by what he saw there. ‘Brid – ’

  ‘Quiet, A-dam.’ Her lips came down on his, and for a while he was silent, distracted from his thoughts by her hands.

  When she at last lay back next to him, sated, he turned a sleepy head towards her. ‘I thought you said you weren’t allowed to talk about your studies?’

  ‘I’m not.’ She looked defiant.

  ‘So you made all that stuff up? About the entrails?’

  ‘I didn’t make it up.’ She sat up, her legs crossed, and looked down at him. ‘Do you want me to show you?’

  He looked at her and suddenly he was afraid again. The hardness he sometimes saw in her eyes was at such variance with her passion. He was confused. ‘No!’ He spoke sharply. ‘It didn’t really say you and I will be together forever?’

  ‘It did.’ She smiled, and he saw the small pink tip of her tongue flick across her lips. ‘You and I make love together forever.’

  He frowned. He had not thought about Brid and the future. The future contained university and medicine and a shining array of new opportunities. He wasn’t at all certain yet how Brid fitted in, if at all. He shifted uncomfortably, watching her through narrowed eyes as she sat beside him, silhouetted against the brightness of the sky.

  I told you to beware my sister, A-dam. She is a daughter of the fire and her power will kill. Forget her, A-dam. She is not part of your destiny.

  Gartnait’s words echoed in his head suddenly, and he shivered. ‘You haven’t told me yet why your uncle let you come back.’

  ‘He has come to visit my brother and to see the stone. It is nearly finished.’

  Adam sat up. ‘You mean he’s here too?’

  ‘No. Today he rides to visit my other uncle, my father’s brother …’ She worked out the relationship on her fingers. ‘Then he comes back from Abernethy in two, three days. And then I am staying here with Gemma until the snow comes. We can see each other all the time!’

  She leaned over him and kissed him on the lips again.

  Adam frowned. A shadow had drifted across the sun. ‘Not all the time, Brid.’ He raised himself onto one elbow. ‘You remember I am going to be a doctor? I am going away to university in October.’

  ‘To university? What is university?’ She sat up and scowled.

  ‘It’s a place you go to study.
Like school, but more difficult.’ His voice rose with enthusiasm. ‘Like you do with your uncle.’

  ‘But I see you after you finish study. In the evening.’ Her eyes were very intense, holding his.

  He felt uncomfortable. ‘No, Brid. We can’t do that,’ he said gently. ‘I’m going to Edinburgh. It’s a long way from here. I shall be staying there.’

  ‘But you will come back? To see your father? Like I come back to see my mother and Gartnait.’

  He looked away. The sun reflecting on the water made him screw up his eyes against the glare. ‘Yes. I’ll come back.’

  He wondered if that was a lie. He never wanted to come back to the manse. Not if he could help it. But what if that meant he would never see Brid again? He looked back at her and gave her a reassuring smile. ‘We’ve plenty of time, Brid. I don’t go for weeks and weeks and weeks.’ It still seemed like forever. Taking her hand he pulled her sharply so she tumbled forward into his arms. ‘Let’s make the most of now, shall we?’ The future could take care of itself.

  They never got as far as the stone, that day or the next. Adam went back to the manse and collected his camping things. He knew Jeannie probably suspected that he would not be sleeping in his small tent alone, but she said nothing, giving him a huge bag of food to keep him going while he watched the birds. Loaded with tent and sleeping bag and groundsheet, a Primus stove, saucepan, food, bird book and binoculars, he could hardly walk as he set off once more towards the hill. The weight did not matter. Brid was waiting for him, and anyway they were not going far.

  They camped only a hundred yards from the falls. There, to his intense embarrassment, she gave him an intricately worked silver pendant on a chain, hanging it herself around his neck. ‘For you, A-dam. Forever.’

  ‘Brid! Men don’t wear things like this!’ He flinched uncomfortably as it nestled against his chest.

  She laughed. ‘Men in my world wear this with pride, A-dam. It is a love token.’ She pulled the edges of his collar across to hide it and kissed him firmly on the lips. Before very long he had forgotten it was there.

  Two evenings later, with the dark blue velvet of the sky sprinkled with pale stars, Gartnait found them.

  ‘How long have you been here?’ He looked furious.

  ‘Not long.’ Brid glared at him.

  ‘I look for you everywhere. Everywhere!’ he repeated. ‘Broichan is at our mother’s house. He is angry!’ The emphasis he placed on the last word spoke volumes.

  ‘I have a holiday.’ Brid looked mutinous.

  ‘Holiday?’ Gartnait repeated the word puzzled. Then without waiting for elucidation he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet. ‘You have been here with A-dam?’ His face betrayed a succession of emotions: anger; fear; suspicion. ‘Brid, you have stayed here? Here? On the other side?’

  Brid’s chin rose, if anything, a little higher. But there was a touch of colour in her cheeks. ‘I like it here. I saw A-dam’s village; I saw his house,’ she said defiantly.

  ‘And what will you say to our uncle?’

  ‘I will say nothing. I came to see our mother.’

  Adam had not dared meet Gartnait’s eye. He knew what they had done was wrong. It was his fault. He was the man. He should have said no. He should have sent her away. Only they both knew that was impossible. Even now, as he looked at Brid and saw the heightened colour in her cheeks, the silky sheen of her hair, still dishevelled from their love-making in the tent only minutes before Gartnait had appeared, and the line of her long slim tanned thigh beneath her skirt, he could feel his desire running rampant through his veins. Clenching his fists he looked away from her. ‘Can’t you say you couldn’t find her?’ he said to Gartnait.

  ‘You want me to tell my uncle lies?’ Gartnait looked at him disparagingly.

  ‘Not lies.’ It was Adam’s turn to blush. ‘Just say you looked everywhere.’

  ‘He knows I looked everywhere,’ Gartnait replied bitterly. ‘He knows there was nowhere else to look.’

  ‘He must not know you have come here,’ Brid put in anxiously.

  ‘Nor you, little sister.’ Gartnait shook his head. ‘Or he will kill us both.’

  There was a moment of silence. Adam felt the small hairs stand up suddenly on the back of his neck.

  Brid’s huge grey eyes were fixed on her brother’s. It was as if they had forgotten he was there.

  Adam swallowed hard. ‘Look, I know he’ll be angry, but I’ll explain …’ His voice tailed away. He was remembering his previous encounters with Broichan.

  Brid was very pale. ‘A-dam. You stay here in your tent. I will go and see my uncle. Then I will come back.’ She sounded very confident.

  ‘But I should come with you.’

  ‘No, you know that is not possible. Better he does not know I have ever seen you again, my A-dam.’ Her voice softened suddenly as she saw his stricken face and she darted over to drop a kiss on his forehead. ‘I will come back soon. You see –’ she broke off abruptly and he saw her gaze pass to the edge of the clearing.

  Adam craned round in sudden terror and saw to his intense relief a familiar face staring at them over the rim of the bank. His friend, Robbie, was scrambling towards them, grinning broadly, when he stopped abruptly, his whole expression frozen into fear. Adam looked round and saw that Gartnait had drawn the knife he wore habitually at his belt.

  ‘Gartnait!’ he cried, alarmed. ‘He is my friend. It’s all right.’ The whole afternoon was turning into a hideous nightmare. ‘Put it away. He’s my friend.’

  Reluctantly Gartnait sheathed the knife, but his face remained sullen and hostile as Robbie, after a moment’s hesitation, came forward.

  ‘Adam, you old devil, I didn’t know you were going to camp.’ He recognised the tent. He had one just like it and in the past the two boys had often camped side by side. He was staring first at Brid and then at Gartnait. ‘Who are your friends?’

  Adam frowned, reluctant to introduce them. Gartnait and Brid were a part of his own private world, his secret world, which had nothing to do with home. He repeated their names without enthusiasm. ‘They were just going,’ he added as the two young men bowed at one another stiffly.

  Brid reached up and unself-consciously kissed Adam on the cheek. ‘I will see you soon.’ She smiled at him and touched his face with her hand. For a fraction of a second she clawed her fingers and he thought he heard a gentle purr. Then she and Gartnait had gone.

  Robbie whistled. ‘Who on earth were they?’ He sat down next to Adam and stared at him hard. ‘They’re not from round here. What weird clothes!’

  Adam was shivering. Not for the first time he realised that something about Brid frightened him intensely. ‘I met them over the other side of the hill,’ he said slowly. ‘Gartnait is a stone carver. He travels around.’

  ‘And the beautiful young lady?’ Robbie’s eyes were alight with intrigue.

  Adam forced himself to smile. ‘She’s his sister.’

  Robbie punched him on the shoulder. ‘You randy old devil! How did you manage to get yourself a girlfriend like that!’

  Adam flushed painfully and he felt a shock of annoyance go through him as well as fear. In spite of himself he glanced round. But they were alone in the centre of the huge bowl of the surrounding hills. ‘Don’t be daft. She’s no one. Just someone I met.’ Even as he said it he felt he was betraying her, but Brid and Gartnait and Robbie were worlds apart and he intended to keep them that way. He felt the cold weight of silver on his chest suddenly and shrugged the open neck of his shirt closed, surreptitiously fastening the button. He had no intention of letting Robbie see the pendant round his neck. As soon as he was alone he would remove it.

  He stayed alone in the tent that night, but she did not return. Nor the next, and on the Saturday Adam packed up his gear and took it back to the manse.

  With something like relief he put her out of his mind. Three times the following week he cycled over to Robbie’s and together they planned what they would
do when they got to Edinburgh. It was finally beginning to dawn on Adam that he was actually leaving, and his thoughts turned to Brid less and less often, visiting him only at night in his dreams. Her silver charm was hidden in a box in the bottom of one of his drawers.

  His results arrived; his grades were excellent and his place at medical school was confirmed. Numb with shock and excitement he received the news in his father’s study and stood looking down at the letter in his hand.

  ‘Congratulations, Adam.’ Thomas smiled at him. ‘I am very proud of you.’

  Adam was speechless for a moment. He read the letter again. There was no doubt; there it was in black and white.

  ‘A great step,’ his father went on. ‘You’ll make a fine doctor one day, son.’

  ‘Thank you, Father.’ At last Adam found his tongue.

  In half an hour it hit him with dizzying force. He was on his way. He was going to the city. He was leaving the manse forever. He did not intend to come back, even in the vacations. He was going to be a doctor.

  This time he did not give Brid a second’s thought.

  Broichan was waiting when Brid returned to the bothy with Gartnait, seated in front of the fire. There was no sign of Gemma.

  ‘So, you have been trespassing beyond our world. You have lied and cheated and broken your vows!’

  ‘No!’ Brid faced him, her cheeks flaming. ‘I have betrayed no one!’

  ‘You have betrayed me. And you have betrayed your gods.’ Broichan had not raised his voice. ‘On your horse. We leave now for the north.’

  ‘But I’m staying here – ’

  ‘You are staying nowhere!’ Broichan stood up, towering over her. ‘You have betrayed your brother and your mother. You have betrayed the blood that runs in your veins. You have betrayed your calling – ’

  ‘You have no proof of any of this! You are guessing – ’