Heart of Ice

by Sk Quinn

  ‘Wait a minute,’ says Blake. ‘Is that the fox you stole from my brothers?’

  ‘I didn’t steal him,’ I say. ‘He jumped right into my arms.’

  ‘Lucky sod,’ says Blake.

  After Dan Dan has given me a good sniff, he trots away, then looks back – like he’s waiting for something.

  ‘He wants us to follow him,’ I say.

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I just know.’

  95

  Dan Dan winds his way through the trees.

  After ten minutes or so, I start to think he’s getting us even more lost. But then we reach a clearing. And see a tent.

  I put a hand to my mouth.

  Dan Dan runs to the entrance of the tent and sniffs the zip.

  I hear a rustle from inside.

  The zip opens and there, looking scared and pale, is Bertie.

  ‘Bertie!’ I grab him and fling my arms around him. ‘Oh my god! What on earth are you doing out here? Why would you run away like that?’

  Bertie must have got supplies from base camp – there’s a whole load of tinned and packet army food inside the tent.

  ‘Don’t want to go back,’ says Bertie, shuffling away from me. ‘Don’t take me back.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Don’t want to talk about Grandpa.’

  ‘Bertie, is that what this is about? Listen, we’ve been over this. You can do this. You can testify. You don’t want Grandpa to walk free, do you?’

  Tears fall down Bertie’s cheeks. ‘Can’t!’

  I try to hug him, but he leans away from me.

  ‘Bertie. It’s okay.’

  ‘You’re going to make me. And I can’t.’

  ‘Listen Bertie—’

  ‘Won’t talk to them!’

  Blake crouches down. ‘All right there little buddy? You don’t have to talk to anyone you don’t want to. Just stay with me and Regan, we’ll see you right. We like your Grandpa. He’s given us a castle.’

  ‘DON’T WANT GRANDPA!’ Bertie screams so loud that birds take off from the trees.

  ‘Well done Blake,’ I say. ‘Don’t you know what his Grandpa did to him?’

  ‘Did to him?’ Blake looks confused.

  ‘GRANDPA HURTS ME!’ Bertie yells.

  ‘Did he?’ Blake asks me.

  ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘He did.’

  ‘I didn’t know. I thought … everyone said it was made up. Even Anise said … ’ He puts a hand on Bertie’s shoulder. ‘Hey little buddy. Listen, I didn’t know that about your granddad okay? I won’t be friends with him anymore. Maybe I can help you. I can be with you when you speak out in court.’

  ‘WON’T TALK!’ Bertie yells.

  ‘Okay, okay.’ I hold up my hands. ‘Listen. Bertie. You don’t have to speak in court. And no one will make you. I have an idea. A way all of this might work out.’

  96

  When we get back to the castle, Rab is guarding the door.

  ‘You found the wee lad!’ he says. ‘What happened?’

  ‘He’s okay,’ I say. ‘He was just in the woods that’s all. No harm done.’

  Rab frowns at Blake. ‘Is Thornburn bothering you, Miss Seraphina?’

  ‘He was helping. Did anyone get hold of Patrick?’

  Rab shakes his head. ‘He doesn’t have a clue what’s happening. The phone lines are still down and the road is blocked. It’s not even safe to fly a helicopter. But Patrick’s old tank is up and running. We’ve sent it up to clear the road.’

  ‘When will the road be clear?’

  ‘Within the next hour. But Miss Seraphina … the wedding is already—’

  ‘I need to hurry. There’s a wedding dress upstairs with my name on it.’

  ‘You don’t seriously think the wedding can go ahead, do you?’ says Blake. ‘You’re already an hour late. And Patrick has no idea why. He probably thinks you’ve done a runner.’

  ‘He’ll wait for me,’ I say. ‘I know he will. Come on Bertie.’ I push past Rab. ‘Let’s get ready.’

  ‘I’ll help,’ says Blake¸ hurrying after us.

  97

  On the way to Bertie’s bedroom, Blake and I find Daphne.

  ‘Bertie!’ she cries. ‘Thank goodness! Are you okay?’

  Bertie nods.

  ‘Daphne, will you help Bertie get ready?’ I ask.

  ‘What for?’

  ‘The wedding.’

  Daphne’s face falls. ‘But Seraphina, it’s too late. The church was booked for eleven. It’s twelve already.’

  ‘Patrick will wait for me. I know he will.’

  ‘Then you’d better hurry. You need to dress. And your hair and makeup girls are already packing up.’

  ‘One more thing first, though.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I need to see Anise.’

  ‘Is this something to do with your plan?’ Blake asks.

  ‘What plan?’ Daphne asks.

  ‘Seraphina has some sort of plan,’ says Blake. ‘So Bertie doesn’t have to testify.’

  ‘I’m intrigued,’ says Daphne.

  ‘It hasn’t worked yet,’ I say.

  98

  The East Wing walls are grey and cold. The odd tapestry hangs here and there, but they’re faded and dingy.

  ‘That’s Regan’s room,’ says Blake, pointing to an open door.

  I peer inside. There are heavy metal CDs lying around the floor, next to crisp packets, beer cans and overflowing ashtrays.

  ‘Anise isn’t in here,’ I say.

  ‘She’ll be in her own room. Down the hall,’ says Blake.

  ‘Don’t they share a bedroom?’

  ‘Regan doesn’t like sharing. He calls on Anise when he wants her. That way he can keep his room free for anyone else who wants to visit.’

  ‘Like Zara?’ I ask.

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Doesn’t Anise know what’s going on?’

  ‘There’s none so blind as those who won’t see.’ Blake leads me further down the corridor. ‘This is Anise’s room.’

  He knocks hard on the oak door.

  A soft, frightened voice calls: ‘Regan?’

  ‘It’s me Anise,’ says Blake. ‘Can I come in?’

  The door creaks open.

  Anise wears a blue silk bridesmaid dress, the slim bones of her hips and ribs showing through the fabric.

  A pale plait is woven around her head. There are bluebells pushed into the plait.

  Her eyes widen when she sees me. ‘Oh! What are you doing here?’

  ‘It’s a long story. Can I come in?’

  Anise throws Blake a frantic look.

  ‘Regan’s not around,’ Blake says. ‘His room is empty. You should let Seraphina in, Anise. It’s important. It’s to do with Bertie.’

  ‘Bertie?’ Anise pulls the door further open.

  The room is small and simple, although I notice a collection of red-net lingerie poking out of the chest of drawers.

  ‘Where’s Regan?’ Anise whispers.

  ‘Probably out getting drunk,’ says Blake.

  ‘Anise, I should tell you something,’ I say. ‘About Regan. And Zara.’

  Blake frowns at me, confused. ‘I thought your plan was to help Bertie?’

  ‘It is,’ I say. ‘Trust me.’

  Anise picks up a squashed flower from the floor. ‘I love bluebells. But Regan doesn’t. He trod on this one.’

  ‘Anise listen. This is important. Regan and Zara … they’ve been having sex.’

  ‘I know,’ says Anise. ‘But that’s ancient history. I’ve forgiven Regan for his past and he’s forgiven me for mine.’

  ‘It’s not ancient history,’ I say. ‘They’ve been having sex while you were married. In the bedroom down the hall.’ I turn to Blake. ‘Blake. Tell her.’

  Blake swallows. ‘She’s right, Anise. Zara came down here last night.’

  Anise looks at Blake. Then at me. Then she bursts into tears. ‘No. No, no, no! He wouldn’t do that. He loves
me.’

  I put an arm around her shoulder. ‘Anise. You must know. Deep down. What Regan’s capable of.’

  ‘But he loves me,’ she whispers. ‘He’s the only man who’s ever cared for me. Every other man looks right through me. And straight at Zara. I’m so stupid! It was her he wanted all along. Just like every other man does.’

  ‘My brother doesn’t look right through you,’ I tell her.

  ‘He would if he saw Zara.’

  ‘No. He wouldn’t. She’s not his type, believe me. He likes genuine girls. Listen Anise. I need your help.’

  ‘Me? My help? How can I help anybody?’

  ‘Bertie ran away today.’

  ‘Oh my god!’

  ‘It’s okay. We found him. But listen – he’s too scared to testify against your father. He can’t do it, Anise. Which means unless someone else does, Dirk will walk free.’

  ‘So how can I help that? Bertie won’t listen to me.’

  ‘You could testify, Anise.’

  ‘But I never saw—’

  ‘Maybe you didn’t see your father hurt Bertie. But you must have seen plenty to make you suspicious.’

  Anise looks at the ground. ‘More than plenty.’

  ‘Will you tell the court what you know? For Bertie’s sake?’

  Anise frowns. Then she nods. ‘I … I’ll try. For Bertie’s sake. I don’t want him to suffer anymore.’

  ‘I know you don’t. But this is going to be a hard road.’

  ‘Only if I stay with Regan.’ Anise swallows. ‘I need to leave him. I know that. I’m just so frightened. Will you help me?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Anise catches a glimpse of her bridesmaid dress in the mirror. ‘Will you … will you still get married today? Is there time?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I say. ‘But I’m going to try.’

  We hear loud footsteps, and then Regan’s voice growls, ‘What the fuck is going on down here?’

  99

  Anise cries a startled, ‘Regan!’

  ‘It’s okay Anise.’ Blake crosses his arms. ‘I’ll handle this.’

  ‘Handle what?’ Regan is dressed in black motorbike leathers. He smells of beer and his black eyebrows and shaved head are shadowy in the low light.

  ‘Listen brother,’ Blake continues. ‘Anise is having second thoughts about your marriage. On account of the fact you’re banging her best friend.’

  Regan’s mouth drops open. ‘What the … this is all bullshit Anise. Lies. Everyone’s jealous of what we have. They’re trying to break us up.’

  ‘Don’t bother lying,’ says Blake, stepping in front of Anise. ‘I told her what was going on.’

  ‘You?’ Regan laughs. ‘I don’t believe you. Now Lady Mansfield, on the other hand.’ He jabs a thumb at me. ‘I can believe that she told tales. You’re covering up for her.’ He glares at me. ‘You’re going to pay for causing trouble.’

  Blake blocks his path. ‘Don’t.’

  Regan punches Blake square on the jaw, and he goes sprawling back on the bed. He groans, his eyes flickering open and closed.

  Regan strides towards me rolling his sleeves up. ‘Your turn.’

  But my turn doesn’t come. Because a huge vase of bluebells comes smashing down on Regan’s head.

  Regan sinks to the floor. A big, heavy deadweight.

  Anise holds the half-broken vase in her hands, her chest is rising and falling, staring at Regan in disbelief.

  Blake sits up, rubbing his jaw. ‘Fucking hell. I forgot how hard my brother can punch.’ He looks down at Regan. ‘Anise. You … did you do that?’

  She nods.

  ‘Seraphina, you need to get ready,’ Anise says, her voice oddly calm. ‘Or you’re going to miss your own wedding.’

  100

  ‘There you are!’ Natalie’s arms are folded across her white beautician’s uniform. ‘Two seconds later and we would have left.’

  Tracy frowns. ‘We thought you got cold feet.’

  ‘With Patrick waiting for me? Never.’

  Natalie does my makeup while Tracy dashes up to get my dress.

  Then they help me into my wedding gown, while Tracy fixes my hair.

  ‘Are you sure Patrick won’t have left already?’ says Natalie. ‘He’s been waiting an awfully long time.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I say. And I’m getting less sure as time goes on. I mean, there’s waiting and there’s waiting.

  ‘God knows what he must be thinking,’ I say.

  ‘Well there’s nothing you can do right now,’ says Tracy, buttoning up the back of my dress. ‘Except get to him as quickly as possible.’

  Natalie slips my shoes on my feet.

  ‘Ready?’ she asks me.

  ‘Ready.’

  101

  Natalie and Tracy bundle me into the wedding car.

  Anise and Bertie are waiting inside. So are Daphne and May.

  Daphne looks beautiful in a lemon yellow summer dress.

  Anise is frail in her blue bridesmaid dress, but pretty. And Bertie looks the perfect little gentleman in a grey suit and tails.

  May is wrapped in a tartan blanket and holding an oxygen mask.

  ‘Are you okay?’ I ask her.

  She takes the mask from her face. ‘I’ll be better when this wedding is underway. We don’t even know if the road is clear yet.’

  Bertie looks happy to be with his mother. A little stiff, perhaps. But happy.

  ‘It’s good to see Mummy, right?’ I say.

  Bertie nods.

  ‘I have a lot of apologising to do,’ says Anise. ‘I don’t expect Bertie to trust me right away. I’ve been stupid. Weak. But I hope in time he’ll forgive me.’

  The car speeds towards the village. But as we drive through the village and out towards the motorway, we see an army tank up ahead.

  The road is clear, and a big pile of shattered oak lies by the roadside.

  I take Bertie’s hand and squeeze it. ‘Maybe there’ll be a wedding after all.’

  102

  As we drive towards the cathedral, I suck in my breath.

  There are crowds of people lining the streets, waving Scottish flags.

  ‘They’re here for you, my dear,’ says May. ‘The new Lady Mansfield.’

  My heart starts to pound. ‘But I’ve never met them before.’

  May laughs. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  The nearer we get to the cathedral, the more people crowd the street.

  ‘There are thousands of them,’ I say.

  ‘And they’re still waiting,’ says May. ‘Which tells me that Patrick is waiting too.’

  The car pulls up outside the cathedral, and I start having heart palpitations.

  Oh my god, oh my god.

  I’m terrified.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Daphne whispers, taking my hand. ‘You’ll be fine.’

  I swallow.

  ‘Look.’ Daphne points at the cathedral door. ‘Your father is waiting to take you down the aisle.’

  I see Dad, smiling at our car. He’s dressed in a jet-black suit and white shirt, a red bow tie at his neck. He’s clean shaven and stands with his shoulders back, looking proud as can be.

  I nod. ‘Okay. Okay, let’s do this.’

  103

  The cheers of the crowd are deafening as I step onto the pavement. So deafening that I almost wobble and fall.

  Someone in the crowd takes my arm, and for a moment I’m frightened.

  But then I realise they’re just helping to steady me.

  ‘Best of luck today, my love,’ someone shouts.

  ‘The most beautiful bride we’ve ever seen,’ someone else yells.

  Daphne helps my dress out of the car and arranges the train.

  Then Anise steps out holding Bertie’s hand.

  I feel myself smiling.

  Dad comes through the crowd towards me.

  ‘I thought you’d done a runner,’ Dad says with a wink. ‘But that man of yours was sure you’d make it.
He didn’t doubt you for a second.’

  104

  In the cathedral, Wila and Sharon are waiting by the door dressed in blue bridesmaid dresses.

  Sharon has her usual bright red lipstick on, her hair a frosty blonde colour. And she’s wearing bright red high heels.

  Wila’s light hair is loose around her shoulders. She looks absolutely beautiful.

  ‘Wila! Sharon!’ I fling my arms around them. ‘I thought maybe … the storm … that you wouldn’t make it up here …’

  ‘And we thought you weren’t coming,’ Sharon grins.

  ‘I think that’s what everybody thought,’ I whisper.

  ‘You look amazing Pheeny,’ says Wila, blinking her big blue eyes at me.

  ‘You do too,’ I say. ‘Both of you do. Now come on. I’m late.’

  105

  Dad takes my arm and slowly, slowly we being to walk up the aisle.

  Wila, Sharon and Anise take careful steps behind me.

  Up ahead, I see Patrick’s broad back in a formal black suit.

  His blond hair is combed back behind his ears and he’s holding his hands behind his back.

  He doesn’t turn. Maybe he’s angry.

  I would be if I were him.

  ‘How’s Patrick?’ I whisper to Dad.

  ‘He hasn’t been a happy chappy,’ Dad whispers back. ‘He’s been pacing around. Barking at people. Trying to find out what’s going on. Sharon convinced him that you always take a long time getting ready. And that calmed him down for a while. But this last hour … I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of his temper, put it that way. He was desperate to get back to the castle.’

  Uh oh.

  Dad squeezes my arm as we walk past the smiling faces of guests.

  As we near the altar, I see Mum, Vicky and Grey.

  I reach Patrick and Dad steps aside.

  Patrick turns to me.

  ‘Where were you?’ he growls.

  ‘It’s a long story.’

  ‘I wanted to get to you. But all the roads were blocked.’ He shakes his head angrily. ‘What happened? Are you okay?’

  ‘Fine. Everyone’s fine. Especially Anise. Regan isn’t with her. He won’t be coming.’