He walked slowly round, mentally recording each detail of the place that had meant so much to him, as though already he knew he would never come back. His plan was to leave the cake behind. He was pretty sure that Brid would not find it, but the birds and animals of the high screes would.
The sound of Brids voice behind him made him leap out of his skin. A-dam! I knew you would come. I sent a message in my head to bring you here. Suddenly she was sobbing. She threw her arms around his neck, then, uncharacteristically she drew back. I must come with you. My uncle plans to kill me. The statement, so flat and unemotional, stunned him into total silence. He put me into a magic sleep, and he told me what he was going to do. But I have more power than him! She let out a wild burst of laughter. I pretended to sleep, but I heard him. I did not make a sign. I did not move my face, but when he had gone I made my plans. I took one of his best ponies and rode in the middle of the night, and I rode until I came home. She smiled wearily, a humourless, cold smile which chilled him. He plans to kill my brother too when the stone is finished. He knows now that Gartnait and I know what the stone is for. It marks the gateway to other times and to knowledge that is forbidden to all but the highest initiates, so we must both die. You see the mirror? That is the sign that from here you can see through the reflections into other worlds. That is how I have come to you. I am not going back. There is only a small part of the work left. When the serpent is finished Broichan will give orders that we are to be buried under the stone a sacrifice to the gods. The hardness vanished and she kneaded her fists into her eyes like a child. Gartnait has gone. He has gone south with my mother three days ago. He wanted me to go too, but I stayed. I waited for you.
Adam had a strange cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. Brid, what are you talking about? Your mother and Gartnait would never leave you. Your uncle would never kill you. This is nonsense. All of it.
Nonsense? she echoed wildly. Broichan is the chief priest of this land. His word is the law. Even the king would not defy him if it was over a matter of the gods. Her eyes hardened again and he recoiled. A-dam, dont you see, you have to save me! I have to live in your world now. I am going to come with you. To your school in Edinburgh!
No! Adam stepped back further. No, Brid. Im sorry, but you cant. Its impossible.
Why cant I? Her eyes were fixed on his face.
Because you cant. He was filled with horror at the idea.
You cant stop me! A-dam, I have nowhere else to go.
Go with Gartnait and Gemma. You belong with them.
I cant. They have gone to the south.
Then you must follow them. This is nonsense. Brid, I cant take you to Edinburgh! Im sorry.
But you love me, A-dam.
Yes He paused. Yes, I love you, Brid. It was the truth, but at the same time, he realised suddenly, there was a part of him which would be quite glad never to see her again. Her angry outbursts and her possessiveness, her wild declamations, had become alarming. And at the same time there was a part of him which had already begun to separate itself from Pittenross and everything there. He softened his voice. Our love is for here. For the holidays. There is no place for you in Edinburgh. None at all. He hesitated. Brid, women are not allowed where Im going. He did not like to lie but in a way it was the truth. Robbie had found them digs to share off the High Street and one of the landladys conditions was, nae young women. Sharing the digs there would be only one other, a skeleton Robbie had bagged for him from a newly qualified doctor. The story was that the skeleton, known as Knox, had been divested of its skin and flesh by the young man himself who had now headed south for London to become a dermatologist.
Brid. Adam took a deep breath and caught her hands gently in his own. You have to go back. Im sorry. You know you arent really in danger. He deliberately closed his mind to the picture of Broichan with this cruel eyes, wild hair, and savage, tight-lipped mouth. That was all a wonderful fantasy. A game we played when we were children. He frowned. Brid, theres a war about to start. Im going to be a doctor. Please understand. He touched her face gently. Its just not possible.
A-dam Her face was ashen. War does not matter to me. I will help you with the wounded. Please. I love you. She grabbed the front of his sweater. If I go back I will die.
No, Brid.
A-dam. You do not understand. She was clinging to him, her face hard.
Brid, I do. Listen. You have to go back to find Gartnait and Gemma. Next holidays well meet and well compare notes, all right? You must understand. You cannot come with me.
She let go of him so suddenly he staggered backwards. Through her tears her eyes were blazing. A-dam, I will never let you go. Never! Her voice was almost vicious.
Adam stared at her, shocked. The skin on the back of his neck was prickling suddenly, but he managed to remain calm. No, Brid, Im sorry. He stepped away from her. Please, try and understand. He could not bear the look in her eyes any longer.
He turned and began to run as fast as he could down the hillside, away from her.
6
The digs were situated up a curved stair in a narrow wynd of tall grey corbelled houses off the High Street. Adam felt an initial wave of intense claustrophobia as he surveyed his new domain, with its small hard bed, empty bookshelf and wobbly table, and then, seeing it instead through Robbies proud eyes he shifted his point of view and saw it as a haven of independence.
Throwing his bags down on the bed, next to which lay his trunk, he raised his hands above his head and gave out an exultant shout of freedom. They were, Robbie told him gleefully, just ten yards from the nearest pub. In the corner the skeleton of Knox grinned amiably at him. Within seconds it had acquired a hat and a university scarf, the box containing Adams gas mask was slung irreverently round its shoulders it was only days after Chamberlain had returned from Munich and the threat of war had receded once more and the two young men had pelted back down the stairs to sample a pint of Tennents. It was the first time that Adam had ever been in a bar.
It was a path they were to tread many times over the next few months between the exhausting rounds of lectures; in Robbies case they took place in the Old Quad, and in Adams in the new buildings in Teviot Place for chemistry, anatomy and dissection, in the Botanical Gardens for botany and in the Kings Buildings for zoology. After the initial strangeness of university life, and the shock of having so much freedom away from the deadening atmosphere of the manse, he took to the course like a duck to water, avidly soaking up each subject as it came, taking little time out to look for recreation. Once a week he wrote a dutiful note to his father. His mother he went to see at last.
She had changed out of all recognition. Gone was the tightly pulled-back hair, the sober dresses, the strained, pale face. When he walked hesitantly into the tea shop on Princes Street where they had agreed to meet he stood for a moment staring round, his gaze passing over the vivacious pretty woman with the swinging curly hair and fashionable hat who was sitting near him, already presiding over a teapot and a plate of cakes. Only when she stood up and held out her arms did he look into her eyes and see there the love and fear and compassion and feel the overwhelming rush of emotion which brought tears to his own eyes.
She had changed out of all recognition. Gone was the tightly pulled-back hair, the sober dresses, the strained, pale face. When he walked hesitantly into the tea shop on Princes Street where they had agreed to meet he stood for a moment staring round, his gaze passing over the vivacious pretty woman with the swinging curly hair and fashionable hat who was sitting near him, already presiding over a teapot and a plate of cakes. Only when she stood up and held out her arms did he look into her eyes and see there the love and fear and compassion and feel the overwhelming rush of emotion which brought tears to his own eyes.
I wrote, Adam. I wrote often, my darling. She was holding his hand openly on the tabletop, playing obsessively with his fingers as though reassuring herself that they were all there. You must believe me. You do understand? Its not your fathers fault. He is such a good man. He must have thought it best if you didnt get my letters. She looked away suddenly and he saw the pain; the glint of a tear on her eyelashes. I wasnt good enough for him, Adam. Im weak. I needed things She couldnt speak for a moment and busied herself pouring more tea for him, her hand shaking slightly. I was suffocating, Adam. I felt as though I would have died.
He didnt know what to say. Smiling at her silently he squeezed her hand and buried his face in his cup.
She was blowing her nose on a lace-trimmed handkerchief. After a moment she looked up at him and smiled. The tears had gone. So. Are you going to be a good doctor?
He grimaced. I hope so. He withdrew his hand to stir some sugar into his cup. If I am, its because I learned it from you. Visiting all those poor people in the parish. Hating to see them suffer. Wanting to help them.
He looked down into his tea, distracted suddenly by a memory of a young man lying beneath a tree. Gartnait, with Brids small hands busy tending his wound. How strange. He had not given her a thought since he had been in Edinburgh.
He looked back at his mother. Her face was sober. I hated all that. The visiting. I had no idea, when I married, what it entailed being a ministers wife. She paused, not noticing the crestfallen disillusion in her sons eyes. Ive met someone, Adam. A good, kind, gentle, understanding man.
Adam tensed. He didnt want to hear this.
I hoped your father would divorce me. I was the guilty party. She glanced at Adam and looked away again. That way I could marry again. She refused to meet his eye. But of course he cant do that, being in the church, so, I well, Ive had to pretend. She was staring down at her hands. Almost unwillingly Adam looked down too and saw that the narrow gold wedding band had gone. Instead she wore a ring of carved twisted silver.
I am sorry, Adam. I will understand if you hate me for it. She was pleading, still not looking at him.
He bit his lip. He wasnt sure how he felt. Anger. Hurt. Rejection and yes, hatred, but not for her, for the unknown man who had stolen her from them.
He cleared his throat nervously. Are you happy now?
She nodded.
Again he looked away. She was happy! Had she ever really wondered how he was, imagined his loneliness, his desolation when she left? He found himself suddenly near to tears, remembering Wee Mikeys teasing. The boys in the village had been right all along. She had gone off with another man. She was, as his father said, a whore.
He stood up abruptly. I have to go, Im afraid. He schooled his voice with care.
Adam! She looked up at him at last, devastated.
Im sorry, Mother. He didnt even know what to call her, he realised suddenly. Not Mummy. Never Mummy. Not any more.
We will meet again, Adam? Soon? There were tears in her eyes again.
He shrugged. Perhaps. Suddenly he couldnt bear it a moment longer. Turning, he blundered out between the tables and almost ran into the street.
Jeannie Barron baked less often now. She had agreed to stay on after Adam left; the ministers needs were very meagre and the house very quiet. Her work did not take her so long, and it was cheerless without Adam there. So it was with some pleasure that she looked up at the knock on the kitchen door and saw the pretty face with its frame of long dark hair peering round at her.
Brid, my lass. How nice to see you. She smiled and beckoned the child in. But she wasnt a child any longer. As Brid sat down at the kitchen table and fixed Jeannie with a cold stare the woman felt a shiver of apprehension whisper over her skin. So, how are you? Youll be missing Adam, as we all are, she said slowly. She turned the dough and thumped it with her fist.
You will tell me where he is. Brids eyes, fixed on hers, were very hard.
Jeannie glanced up. Did he not tell you where he was going? Alarm bells rang in her head.
He tells me he is going to Edinburgh to study healing.
Aye, thats right. Jeannie smiled, relaxing again. Hes very bright is our Adam.
I will go too. Brid folded her arms. Her expression had not changed. You will tell me how.
How to go to Edinburgh? Thats difficult. Jeannie was playing for time. If Adam hadnt given the girl an address to write to then he had a reason. It costs money, lass. Youd need to go on the bus or on the train.
Brid looked blank.
Why not wait until he comes home in the vacation? Its not so long. Hell be back before you know it. Besides, he hasnt written to tell us yet where hes staying. She hoped she would be forgiven the lie. Edinburgh is very big, lass. Bigger than you can ever imagine. You would never find him.
I will ask. The people will know where the healers school is. You will give me money.
Jeannie shook her head. No, Brid. Im sorry. I cant afford to hand out money, lass. You must find your own.
I will have yours. Brid had spotted Jeannies handbag on the dresser. Pushing back her chair she moved towards it, putting out her hand.
No! Jeannie had seen what was coming. Stepping away from the table she grabbed it, covering it in flour. No, miss! I had a feeling you were no better than you ought to be. You get out of here now. This minute, or Ill call the minister! If you want to go to Edinburgh you go your own way, but I warn you, youll not find Adam. If he wanted you to know where he was he would have told you. So, thats an end of it, do you hear me?
For a moment there was total silence in the room. Brid stared at her with eyes of flint and Jeannie felt a jolt of real fear. She swallowed hard. The minister was actually not in his study. She wasnt sure where he was. Visiting someone in the parish, perhaps, or in the kirk. She straightened her shoulders. Brid was only a slim wee thing. Why should she feel so afraid?
She read the fatal message in Brids eyes for just one second before Brid put her hand to her leather belt and calmly drew her knife. She tried to run, but it was too late. The beaten and polished iron weapon caught her between the shoulderblades before she had taken more than one step and she fell awkwardly, clutching the bag to her chest as the blood slowly welled out over her pale blue cardigan. The only sound she made was a small gasp.
Brid stood still, amazed at the incredible surge of energy and excitement which had shot through her. Then, expressionless, she wrestled the bag from Jeannies clutch and opened it, tipping the contents on the floor. She surveyed the items with interest. There was a little round mother-of-pearl powder compact, given to Jeannie by Adams mother when she realised that the minister would not allow her to keep such a frivolity. A comb. A handkerchief. A small diary. A purse and a wallet. She ignored the wallet, which contained a large white five-pound note, not recognising it as money. The compact she took and examined. She pushed the small catch on the side and gasped as it opened to reveal a mirror. For a moment she stared at herself, rapt in wonder, then, hastily, she tucked it inside her dress. Then she reached for the purse. Inside were nine shillings, three sixpences, four pennies and a hapenny. She hoped it was enough to go to Edinburgh.