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Entwined

Page 20

by Elizabeth Marshall


  “Thanks,” she said, watching as he grasped the bottle between his legs and snapped open the catch on his bag.

  “Do you need some help?” Rose asked, with a flat tone to her voice.

  He shook his head. “No, ta. I’m looking for some alcohol gel, which I’ve just found,” he said, extracting the small bottle from his bag.

  “I guess we all should have done that before handling the bottle?” Grace suggested. “You know, the crazy thing is, I know Kate bought loads…” she broke off her words with a choke.

  “It’ll be fine,” Graham said, covering his hands with the gel before pushing the teat through the ring and resealing the bottle.

  “None of you handled the teat. Here,” he said, returning the bottle to the baby’s expectant mouth. “Take it off him when he’s had half and wind him. You’re doing great, kid,” he said to Rose, reaching out and touching her lightly on the arm.

  “Thanks, but I’d rather his mother could do it.”

  “How is she doing?” Grace asked.

  “Not as well as I would have liked,” Graham replied. “Her blood pressure is low and her temperature is up. I’ve given her a shot of penicillin, so we’ll just have to wait and hope it works.”

  The shrill tone of a mobile’s ring drew their eyes to Eilidh. She flipped the mobile and put it to her ear.

  “How far out of York are we?” she asked.

  A brief silence ensued before she spoke again. “Good,” she said, scribbling something on a slip of paper beside her.

  “What’s wrong?” Grace asked.

  “Nothing,” Eilidh replied, reaching inside her bag and pulling a plastic bottle of water from it.

  Eilidh let out a long breath before scooping up the array of loose papers around her and pushing them into her back pack.

  “What is going on?” Graham asked.

  “I’ll tell you all everything you need to know now,” she said, “but first I’m going to give Amber a drink.”

  Her hand shot into the back pack again, emerging with a small plastic bowl. She opened the bottle and filled the bowl before gently tapping her thigh. “Amber.”

  The dog’s head lifted and turned immediately towards Eilidh. “Come on, Pudding,” she said, watching the dog stretch lazily and amble across the lorry.

  Jenny chuckled softly and it broke some of the tension in the lorry, “She’s not in much of a hurry, is she?”

  “She’s a comfortable creature,” Eilidh said, patting the dog’s back.

  “You had something to tell us?” Graham said, prompting Eilidh.

  “Aye, I do,” she said, taking a deep breath and straightening her shoulders. “Well,” she began lowering her eyes to watch Amber’s tongue lapping at the water. “I suppose I should start with you, Graham,” she paused, and lifted her head to look at him. “Your father left our village…”

  “My father?” Graham echoed, jerking his head up in surprise. “What did my father have to do with you people?”

  “Be patient with me, Graham, please. I will tell you everything, if you will just hear me out,” Eilidh replied softly. “Everyone left with a different purpose and a specific job.” Graham opened his mouth to speak but then stopped himself as he remembered Eilidh’s request. “Graham and Rose, you grew up knowing nothing of your true identities, or your life in Scotland. You lived, like every other family, a seemingly normal existence in York.”

  “This is all frightfully entertaining and I know Scotland is a lovely country but why the cloak and dagger? There’s nothing mysterious about growing up in Scotland, it’s a country, just like any other and just for the record. I didn’t grow up there. I was born and raised in York.” Graham interrupted, unable to help himself.

  “Your father, Graham, and your mother Rose, always knew that their time away from the village was limited and dangerous…,” she took a deep breath and raised her head to look at the faces around her. “The time has come when we must all unite and return to our people.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Graham said, staring at Eilidh as if it were the first time he had ever seen her.

  “Graham,” she continued, undeterred by his outburst, “you weren’t born in York. Your mother, is a mortal, your father… was one of… he was a Highlander.”

  Graham opened his mouth to speak again but Eilidh raised her finger to her lips.

  “He was the finest diviner the village has ever known. Without your father we would not have the knowledge we do today. He left the village to learn more about the Dark Circle.” Eilidh took a deep breath resting her eyes on Corran. “He came to find the woman whose life you have just saved.”

  “She’s not out of the woods yet,” Graham said, following Eilidh’s eyes.

  “No, but you delivered her child safely and he will live,” Eilidh said softly.

  “You can’t know that. No one can,” Graham said, “Of course I wish the little chap a long, healthy life, but who’s to know what tomorrow brings.”

  “Your father did,” Eilidh replied.

  Graham sighed with impatience. “I respect you, Eilidh, really I do and I value you as a friend, but what you are saying is just fantasy. You’ve just lost two of your friends and not one of you thought to call the police. Now you sit here and try and convince me that old legends and myths are reality. Your behavior … your thoughts … you are deluded,” he said, with an exasperated wave of his hands. He tried to rationalize Eilidh’s motives, tried to understand her thinking, but his mind kept returning to the same conclusion. He should, as a medical professional, be arranging mental health assessments en masse. Yet, despite his professional opinion, Graham couldn’t understand why he had made no attempt to act on his judgment.

  “They killed him too, Graham… your father. He was the first one they took from us. He gave his life for the sake of the information that has brought us all together.”

  “He was shot, Eilidh, by a real living human being. The man who shot him…”

  “Was called John,” Eilidh finished.

  “You could have read that in any newspaper from the time,” he replied, dismissively.

  “And he escaped from custody, killing four prison guards in the process. He has never been recaptured,” Eilidh continued.

  “Again, you could have found that information anywhere,” Graham said, shifting nervously.

  He had never been comfortable talking about his father’s death and this occasion was no exception.

  “Your mother disappeared shortly after your father’s death. You never forgave her for leaving you. But she went, Graham, because it was too dangerous for her to stay.”

  “You talk nonsense. My mother had a nervous breakdown. - It is true that I blamed her for leaving me but over time I have grown to understand why she had to go.”

  “It is also true, Graham, that it was your father’s death that drove you into medicine. It was your father’s death that drove you to inject yourself with insulin and it was your father’s teachings that gave me the skill to know what you were going to do that night,” she paused and fixed her eyes on his. “It is also true, Graham, that if I tell you to slide your hand in your trouser pocket you will find a tiny silver locket that your father gave you when he lay dying.”

  “How did you know about the locket? I’ve never told anyone,” Graham said, instinctively pushing his hand into his pocket and closing his hand around the cold metal object.

  “I know, Graham, because you are one of us,” she said simply. “Cast your mind back to your childhood. Remember those days in the mountains, capped with snow and carpeted with heather. See the Stag on the edge of the cliff and the eagle that swooped for its prey. Remember, Graham, because that is your home, the place you were born and the place where you belong.”

  Graham stared at her, eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

  Rose lifted her hand and rested it on his arm. He turned to face her and stared deep into her eyes.

  “It’s true, isn’t it?” he whispered.

/>   She nodded slowly. “Yes, Graham, it is true.”

  ******

  CHAPTER 23

  A white van waited patiently in a pull-off on the A1. A man of average height and a rounding middle stood beside the open driver’s door. With one foot on the running board and the other on the tarmac he was perched ready for flight.

  Simon guided the lorry smoothly in behind the van.

  He stopped the engine and tossed Duncan the keys.

  “I can’t drive this thing, Pa.”

  “If the need arises, you’ll do it,” Simon said, jumping down from the cab and making his way cautiously toward the waiting vehicle.

  Duncan appreciated his father’s confidence in him, but he didn’t share it. Running his fingers over the ridges of the of the ignition key, the image of Harry’s face filled his mind. Duncan’s stomach tightened and his heart pounded as he forced himself to recall the catastrophic way in which he had let Kate and Harry down. His lapse of judgment, his failure to remain alert, his inability to rescue them couldn’t be undone. They were gone, their lives taken by a chance meeting. But he couldn’t be sure that they had been found by chance. The buried crystal should have protected them. He searched his memory for clues of what might have gone wrong.

  “The crystal should have protected us,” he whispered.

  “Did you say something, boy?”

  Duncan had quite forgotten Robert. “Errm… no, not really. I was just thinking out loud.”

  “Very well,” Robert replied, leaving an uneasy silence in the cab.

  “Peter Watson?” Simon said, extending his hand in friendship.

  “I guess you are Simon Campbell,” the man said, accepting Simon’s outstretched hand.

  Simon nodded. “We need to go.”

  “You leading?” Peter asked.

  “Unless you know where we are going.”

  Peter shook his head. “Not a chance. I used the crystal to leave the village. Couldn’t find it again if my life depended on it.”

  “It does,” Simon replied, gruffly. “Get in the van, we’re wasting time,” he finished, turning to head back to the lorry.

  “He’s a fool. I don’t like him,” Simon said, taking the keys off Duncan and sliding them into the ignition.

  “Why Pa, what happened?”

  “The man’s a bumbling idiot. Far too jovial for my liking,” Simon snapped, turning the key.

  The engine roared to life and the lorry rolled slowly toward the exit of the pull-off.

  “What’s in the van?” Duncan asked.

  “Medicine, I hope,” Simon replied sharply.

  “I was under the impression, Sir, that you had a Stag to see to your ailments,” Robert said.

  “Haven’t you been listening to anything? The Stag is dying. Take a look at my wife. Does she look like the Stag’s helping her?”

  “No, Sir, she doesn’t. But I did hope that the creature may offer some assistance to your good woman once we arrive in this village.”

  “You thought wrong. The Stag will die at midnight and, when it does, we will all be as mortal as you,” Simon said, pointing at Robert. “We are returning to the village to save our people from the Dark Circle, not to live forever.”

  Checking his mirrors and rear view monitor for the white van, Simon returned his look to the road. The van had tucked in comfortably behind the lorry and was following at a good distance. He felt a stab of guilt for the way he had snapped at Robert and the rude manner in which he addressed him. His question had been a valid one and hadn’t deserved Simon’s wrath. He still remained irritated by the man despite his silent apology for his rude behavior. Simon also considered that he may also have misjudged Peter Watson and again offered a silent apology. His mind was consumed with worry and his heart torn with fear, but like any soldier, he understood the job he had to do and resolved to do it to the best of his ability.

  The buzz of Duncan’s mobile brought Simon’s attention back to the moment.

  “She is? When?” Duncan turned to face his father. “Pa, she’s awake. Ma’s going to be alright.”

  “Dear God, thank you,” sighed Simon, raising his eyes momentarily to the sky.

  “That is indeed good news, Sir,” Robert said, cracking what Simon thought could almost have been a smile.

  “Can we stop and see her Pa?”

  “Soon lad. We are about an hour from Scotch Corner. We’ll stop there.”

  In the back of the lorry a tiny moan escaped Corran’s lips as she reached out to touch her child.

  “Don’t try and move, Corran,” Rose said, lifting her hand and resting it gently on her friend’s shoulder.

  “Thirsty,” she whispered.

  Graham unscrewed the cap off a bottle of water and lifted it carefully to Corran’s lips. “Just take small sips,” he said, tilting it to wet her parched mouth.

  “Thank you.”

  “How is the pain?” he asked.

  “Bearable.”

  “That’s good. Let me know if you need me to increase your medication.”

  “What happened?” Corran asked, turning her head to look at the baby in the drawer beside her. She reached out her hand and let her fingers lightly brush the baby’s arm.

  “Is… is that my baby?” she asked.

  Rose nodded and forced a smiled down at Corran. “You gave us all a bit of a fright.”

  “Where is Simon?” Corran asked, scanning the faces around her.

  “He’s driving.”

  “Jenny,” Corran cried, recognizing the girl beside Grace. Although she knew her face she had no memory of how she recognized her.

  “Yes, Corran. You saved my daughter,” Grace said, putting her arm around Jenny.

  “I don’t remember… I know we tried but I don’t remember how,” Corran said weakly.

  “Try not to talk. There will be plenty of time for questions,” Graham said, holding her wrist and silently counting her pulse.

  “Is the baby alright?” Corran asked.

  “Your baby is fine,” Graham assured her.

  “I’m sorry but I don’t remember you.”

  “I’m Graham, the doctor who delivered your baby.”

  “I don’t -,” Corran whispered.

  “It’s OK. You won’t recall it. We had to do an operation… A cesarean section.”

  “I think I’ve read about them.”

  “Don’t worry about it now. Just enjoy your beautiful healthy baby,” Graham said.

  “I think Simon was right,” Corran said, staring at the child.

  “Why?” Rose asked.

  “Because it looks like a boy.”

  “It’s not often you can tell the sex of a newborn by its face, but in this case you are absolutely right. You have a very male-looking son,” Graham said, with a small rumble of laughter.

  “Where are Harry and Kate?”

  The lorry fell suddenly silent and the air tensed. Graham reached for Corran’s hand and understood the fear in her eyes.

  “They didn’t come with us,” Graham began, “They… errr… They -”

  “Harry didn’t want to come,” intervened Grace.

  “Yeah,” Jenny chimed, “He put up a terrible fuss about being an old man.”

  “But Simon should have made him come. He could have been reunited with Jessie.”

  “He was very adamant, Corran,” Graham said.

  “And Kate?” Corran asked, casting another frantic look around the lorry.

  “She stayed with Harry,” Grace said simply, hoping that Corran hadn’t hear the choked sob that had just escaped from Rose.

  As if on cue the baby let out a lung busting cry and all eyes shot towards the tiny form.

  “Is he hungry?” Corran asked nervously.

  “He can smell your milk,” Graham replied.

  “Should I feed him?”

  “If you feel strong enough. We’ve started him on a bottle, so it may take a bit of patience to get him onto the breast,” Graham said, searching the l
orry for something to prop up Corran.

  With Corran’s recovery seemed to come an improvement in everyone’s mood. Jenny bounced from the floor and moved swiftly to Graham’s side.

  “I can help you move some boxes, if that will help?” she said.

  “Thank you, Jenny, but don’t go lifting anything too heavy.”

  It wasn’t long before Grace and Rose joined in and between them a solid wall of boxes was built behind Corran’s mattress.

  “You still coping with the pain?” Graham asked when finally Corran was sitting propped up against pillows and boxes.

  She nodded, but the pale color of her skin and the tiny beads of sweat on her forehead told him different.

  He pulled his bag towards him, and clicking the catch on the bag, Graham extracted two boxes of tablets. He slid a card of pills from each box and popped one tablet from each card into a small plastic cup.

  “Here,” he said, passing Corran the plastic tub. “Take these.”

  She took the tub from him whilst he unscrewed the cap on a bottle of water.

  “I’m alright, really,” she argued, holding the tablets in her trembling hand.

  “Why won’t you take them?” Graham asked, offering her the bottle of water.

  “Because I read that taking medicine when you are breast feeding can harm the baby.”

  Graham smiled down at her. “Do you really think I would go to all this trouble to deliver your son and save your life and then put it all in jeopardy by giving you something that would harm you both?”

  She shook her head.

  “Well then, I’m your doctor and I’m telling you that this medication will harm neither you nor the baby. Take it Corran, you need the pain relief.”

  Hesitantly she did as he asked and then handed the bottle of water and the plastic tub back to Graham.

  “Are you ready for your baby?” Rose asked, lifting the tiny bundle from its crib with a forced smile.

  She nodded nervously as Rose lowered the baby gently into the cradle of her arms. Gripped by an overwhelming force, Corran drew the child instinctively to her chest. Her eyes locked on his face as the baby’s bottom lip curled and quivered. A weak cry escaped his throat and she drew him tighter against her.

 

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