He stretched out his arms. ‘Not that, this is a feeling of sanctity. I’m not much of a churchgoer, as you know, but sometimes I get the same feeling in ancient cathedrals, like a benign presence.’ He gave her a shrewd glance. ‘And I am sure you know what I mean, you must have felt it too.’
Evading his eyes, she didn’t answer. A promise made must be kept.
He continued with a sigh. ‘I’m trying to fathom what they were up to, whoever invaded this garden while we were out. Is it Huw Scarth’s pot of gold? Is anyone daft enough to believe that old story?’ He shook his head. ‘I wish they’d had detectives then, someone as smart as Sherlock Holmes or even my very clever daughter would have sorted them out.’
She smiled. ‘Flattery will get you nowhere, dear Pa.’
He frowned. ‘But you know something, dammit! I have felt it in my bones every time we have stood here together.’ He paused and added sternly: ‘The time has come to share it, if we have any hopes of solving this particular riddle. Huw Scarth’s pot of gold is nonsense,’ he thumped his fists together, ‘but it has something to do with the Maid of Norway’s dowry, I’m certain of that.’
She was defeated and she knew it, sure that Erland would have forgiven her. She sighed. ‘They are searching for where they believe it is hidden.’
‘And that is?’ he demanded impatiently.
‘Buried with her, in her grave.’
They were alone now. The others had returned to the house, lured away by Mary’s magic shout from the top of the steps: ‘I’ve made some tea.’
Faro stared at her, pointed to the stone seat and she nodded. ‘Yes, that was put there to protect her bones, to stop them being disturbed. She died on the ship and they buried her here. It was probably meant as a temporary grave with the mermaid stone to mark it, but in those troubled times, no one came.’ Again she sighed, feeling guilty. ‘Erland showed me, made me promise not to tell anyone. The secret has been passed down to the eldest Yesnaby, father to son, generation by generation. A sacred trust. They are its guardians and Magnus will be told when he is older …’ She paused. ‘And from the way he went for Sven so knowledgeably, I think he might know already.’
Faro drew a deep breath. ‘And so I was right about that cathedral feeling. I seemed to know there was something.’ She looked at him, smiled and took his arm. ‘I guess I must have got that from you.’
He went over and touched the seat and whispered. ‘Rest easy, little princess.’
They were walking back and at the foot of the steps he paused. ‘I’ve never told you, but shortly after we arrived, I had a strange dream – more a kind of nightmare. I was in a funeral procession and they were burying a child. But it wasn’t now, it was, oh, hundreds of years ago. It was so vivid, even the rain, the people chanting, and weeping as they carried the coffin. I normally forget dreams, but this one has haunted me; I still remember every detail as if it was last night.’
He smiled at her. ‘There was even a dog running along with them, a big brute, some kind of hound.’
Rose was silent, then he saw that she was crying. ‘My darling, what’s wrong, what have I said?’
‘Only that I had exactly the same dream, when I first came to Yesnaby, ten years ago. And I remember it too; I have never forgotten a single detail.’
His eyes widened. ‘That is extraordinary. The same dream we both shared.’ His arm tightened around her. ‘Strange, strange. I just know it wasn’t like me at all. It was as if someone else had taken me over.’ He shivered. ‘Quite extraordinary.’
‘Tea is getting cold, look sharp, you two!’ Mary called from above.
Still with his arm around her, they climbed the steps. They were used to solving mysteries, and mysteries needed logic. But for this strange dream, there was no logic on offer. They had both entered the past, in a happening beyond their understanding, but Rose could have told him something even more extraordinary about another creature who had shared it with them.
That big brute of a hound in Faro’s dream.
That was Thane.
There were voices from the open kitchen door above them. Sven appeared with Flett, about to descend the steps into the garden.
Faro and Rose stood aside to let them pass and the policeman shook his head.
‘Shocking business, sir,’ he said to Faro and Sven added: ‘I called upon him to inspect the scene.’
‘Perhaps you would like to accompany us, sir?’ Flett said to Faro, obviously aware of the legendary detective’s exploits as he added: ‘You might have some ideas of what this was all about.’
‘If you think I can help.’
‘Much obliged, sir.’
Faro took Rose’s arm and said, ‘Carry on,’ ignoring the policeman’s look of surprise that a young, well-bred woman should wish to be included in such sordid goings-on.
Standing by the stone seat, touching the soil debris with his foot as if moving it might reveal some vital clue, his notebook at the ready, Flett coughed, straightened his shoulders in a businesslike manner and said to Sven: ‘I am right in supposing that it was you who discovered that the garden had been attacked by vandals?’ Sven said yes and they had to listen to the details all over again. At the end, Flett closed his notebook. ‘We will need to have a statement from you, so that official enquiries usual in such matters can be pursued.’
Sven readily agreed and Flett asked carefully: ‘Then have you any suspicions, as a local man, who might have been responsible?’ As Sven’s theory of the archaeologists had been firmly set aside by Emily, he said nothing and merely shook his head.
Flett pursed his lips thoughtfully. ‘Mm. What I am asking is if you are aware of any folk who might have a grudge against Mrs Yesnaby?’
Sven stood tall at that and said indignantly, ‘None at all. I can assure you of that. Mrs Yesnaby has just lost her husband, as you well know, and all of Hopescarth and Skailholm have been united in expressing their sympathy and condolences.’ He shook his head. ‘The Yesnabys are held in the highest regard and the community will be more than willing to assist you in your enquiries and see the criminal arrested and punished.’
Flett’s frown deepened. He looked at Faro and Rose as if they might provide inspiration.
Faro shrugged. Although impressed by Flett’s extensive questioning, he was bored and a little tired. ‘We are at a loss.’ To which Rose added, ‘We can’t help you, Flett, we were just here for Mr Erland’s funeral, hardly time to get to know anyone or speculate on possible villains.’
The policeman regarded her in mild disapproval. What was this young woman doing? Who did she think she was, anyway, giving her opinion on men’s matters of criminal procedure?
They returned to the house where Mary offered Flett refreshment of tea and scones, which he eyed eagerly but on second thoughts declined.
‘I gather you will be leaving for Edinburgh within the next two days,’ he said to Emily. ‘I hope we will have made an arrest by then.’
‘I hope so too,’ Mary interrupted. ‘I’ll be living here on my own and I don’t fancy that much, with a criminal lurking about.’
Flett smiled at her, he hoped reassuringly. ‘No need for you to worry, Mrs Faro. We will be keeping in close contact. Rest assured you will be well guarded.’
‘That’s good of you,’ Mary sighed.
‘And I will look in every morning.’
‘It’s the nights that really worry me,’ Mary muttered as he departed, leaving them all baffled, annoyed and a little scared by what had seemed such pointless vandalism. There were arguments and speculations but not one with a logical reason. The most baffling and sinister was still how had the vandal or vandals got into the garden without entering by the house?
There was evidence that the house had been entered in traces of soil leading to the front door, but these were quite simply explained. Sven had carried them in on his boots on his way out after inspecting the damage.
Faro said to Rose, ‘Curious, but from the soil, one or two fain
t footprints suggest there might have been more than one person involved.’
This possibility for speculation was cut short abruptly.
It seemed that surprises were not over for the day. The doorbell rang shrilly through the house and Emily, with Mary at her heels, opened the door to a young woman who smiled shyly.
‘You must be Emily?’ She held out her hand. ‘I hope I’ve come to the right place.’
Alice Yesnaby had arrived.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Emily’s feelings of wild panic were quickly suppressed. What she had most dreaded was happening this instant, those awful visions had come to life.
‘Alice Yesnaby! You are most welcome. Do come in, my dear.’
Stepping across the threshold, Alice hugged her. She was trembling, obviously exhausted.
‘I’ve had a dreadful time. I thought I would never get here. It’s really quite remote, isn’t it?’ Emily glanced down at her down-at-heel boots sadly in need of a polish. ‘It’s a long way up the drive, from the motor bus stop, isn’t it?’ she added, following Emily and Mary, the latter rendered momentarily speechless, into the kitchen to be presented to the family who received this newcomer in jaw-dropping surprise.
The surprise they expected but least wanted. Only Magnus and Meg were unaffected by the arrival of this newcomer. They shook hands politely, Magnus giving his slight bow and a curtsey from Meg, which Alice obviously found very appealing.
She gave them both a hug to Magnus’s embarrassment. ‘Oh, what two darling children,’ she exclaimed. ‘Brother and sister, two young Yesnabys and so lovely.’
Emily explained hastily that only Magnus had that role. He was an only son, and Meg, who was trying to hide behind him, was her sister’s daughter, she added pointing to Rose.
Not one whit put out, Alice said: ‘But they are alike; it must be the Yesnaby family resemblance, of course.’
She was wrong but no one cared to contradict her, they had too many other problems. Only Meg, flattered and delighted at looking like her beloved cousin, decided that she rather liked this new lady.
As smiles were exchanged and the newcomer made welcome, the same thought running through all their minds was almost audible: what on earth are we going to do with her?
An attempt at normality was restored by means of Mary’s ready poultice for all emergencies: the swift application of a seat at the table, a fresh pot of tea and well-buttered scones.
Alice beamed at them. ‘Thank you, thank you so much, you are so kind. I am so hungry.’
As she tackled another scone and gulped down a second cup of tea, Rose tried not to stare. They should at least have suggested she wash her hands first. As for Emily, Alice wasn’t quite what she had expected. To start with she was young, very young to be travelling alone. Not more than seventeen or eighteen, and very pretty, although her appearance was somewhat grubby to say the least, travel-stained and dishevelled, her hair – bonnetless – in dire need of washing.
All these were Emily’s thoughts as well as Rose’s as she sat opposite and they both listened to Alice’s garbled account of what had led to this most inappropriate of arrivals.
Conscious of their eyes upon her, Alice stopped eating for a moment, paused to take a deep breath. ‘Didn’t you get my letter?’
Emily shook her head and Alice cried, ‘But that is terrible. I posted it a week ago.’ She pushed the plate aside. ‘After I got yours’ – she gulped – ‘about poor Cousin Erland, I knew I had to come, although I had missed the funeral.’ And a beseeching look at Emily. ‘As you probably know, he always wanted me to see Yesnaby, our family home for generations.’ She shook her head. ‘I knew I had to come, he would have wanted that.’ Another pause. ‘I’m a teacher as I expect you know, so I am on holiday.’
She looked at their expressionless faces. ‘Oh, this is really too awful. Without that letter, you can’t have been expecting me. Oh dear, how awful, to come at such a time,’ she added tearfully.
Emily stretched out her hand and made reassuring noises, while Mary clearing the table said: ‘If you had delayed your visit a bit longer you would have found the house empty.’
Alice gave her a look of horror. ‘Empty?’ she whispered.
‘Aye, empty. Except for me, that is. Emily and Magnus are off to Edinburgh to stay with Rose in a couple of days,’ Mary added cheerfully in a determined fashion that made the situation quite clear, ignoring Emily’s reproachful glance at this somewhat tactless remark.
Emily did some quick-thinking. She smiled and said rather lamely, ‘Of course you are most welcome to stay, as long as you like. Mrs Faro will take care of you,’ she said looking at her grandmother severely.
The rejoinder was received with the vaguest of nods that not in anyone’s eyes could have suggested eagerness to oblige. Alice looked at the old woman and didn’t seem impressed either. She gave a stifled sob.
‘Oh no, you are so kind,’ she repeated. ‘But I couldn’t possibly. If-if it isn’t too inconvenient and you can give me a bed for the night, I will leave immediately.’
Emily was conscience-stricken. She couldn’t allow this poor girl, having travelled all that distance from Aberdeen – and by her appearance very much in need of hospitality, such as a bath and a warm bed, to start with – to set off home again the very next day.
She had a bright idea. ‘You obviously didn’t get my last letter, but why don’t you come with us to Edinburgh? We are sailing to Leith.’ Alice was giving it some thought and Emily added enthusiastically: ‘Do you know Edinburgh?’
A shake of the head. ‘I have never been there. It is rather a long way from where I live in Aberdeen – not in the city itself, I have hardly ever been there either. We are out in the country. My father had a small croft before he died,’ she ended sadly.
Emily leant across the table and put her hand on Alice’s. ‘Then you certainly must come to Edinburgh,’ she said with a glance at Rose, who was making a mental note of the number of beds now needed in Solomon’s Tower and how very surprised Jack was going to be at this invasion from Orkney.
She could almost hear his comment: ‘Haven’t seen anything like it since the Vikings left.’
Emily was on her feet ready to show Alice to a bedroom. ‘You must be tired; perhaps you would like to rest?’ There would be no meal that evening, the hearty lunch provided by Faro had taken care of that necessity. ‘We’ll send a tray up to your room and I believe there might be some hot water for a bath, if you wish.’ Erland had been proud of their up-to-date water-heating installation. ‘Have you some luggage?’
Magnus was on his feet. ‘I will carry it upstairs, Ma. Which room is Miss Alice to have?’
Emily hadn’t had time to think about that, but Mary, who had disappeared for a moment, now reappeared and said: ‘I’ve prepared a bed in the room across the corridor from yours.’
That used to be a dressing room and Emily gave her grandmother a grateful thanks.
‘Your luggage?’
Again, a stifled sob from Alice. ‘As I was trying to tell you, I lost everything. I had a disaster on the ferry. The crossing was a bit rough and although I am a good sailor, the elderly lady who had been sitting next to me was feeling very ill and I decided she would feel much better with some fresh air. So I took her on to the deck.’ She shuddered. ‘Just in time, she needed both my hands for support but as she leant over the rail to be very sick, the ship gave a horrid violent lurch and my-my valise containing tickets, money – everything,’ she sobbed, dashing a hand across her eyes, ‘slid down into the sea and drifted away and there was nothing I could do.’ She sighed. ‘It was terrible, terrible but we were shortly to land and at least I had the small trunk I travel with.’ An agonised glance, a groan and taking a grubby handkerchief from her cloak pocket, she dabbed her eyes.
Clutching it in her hands, she whispered: ‘I know what happened was my fault. I was late and nearly missed the boat and when we landed my trunk was not in the hold. As far as I know, it is
still in Aberdeen.’ Eyes widening in a despairing sigh, she added: ‘They have promised that it will arrive in Kirkwall tomorrow. But what was I to do? I was absolutely desperate. I had no money, nothing.’ She shook her head. ‘The motor bus driver was very understanding and kindly let me travel to Hopescarth without a ticket.’
Sven, who had listened silently to this tale of disaster, stepped forward and gave a little bow. ‘Do not worry, Miss Yesnaby. I will take care of this for you. I will go to the ferry office tomorrow and retrieve your luggage.’
Alice looked across at him and clasped her hands. ‘Oh thank you, thank you.’ She smiled gratefully, a lingering glance, perhaps for the first time seeing this was a very handsome young man who had come to her rescue.
Rose looked sharply at Emily, whose relieved expression concealed a sharp stab of despair at Sven’s eagerness to help. The thought that entered Emily’s mind unbidden at his returning smile to this damsel in distress indicated clearly that this was a very attractive girl whom he was not displeased would be coming with them to Edinburgh.
Following Emily and Alice upstairs, Rose said: ‘I’ll run you a bath.’
‘Oh, thank you. I’m so grateful,’ Alice replied, removing her travel-stained cloak to reveal a gown also rather dirty and creased. Aware of their glances, she said: ‘My best clothes are with my luggage.’
Emily said tactfully. ‘We will find something for you until Sven collects it.’
Alice smiled. ‘Sven? Is that his name?’
‘Yes. He’s Norwegian.’
A gentle nod. ‘I guessed he was foreign.’ She said this in a way that hinted that she approved.
Emily ignored that and considering the tall slender girl critically, opened her wardrobe. ‘You can have something of mine to wear meantime.’
‘You have some beautiful clothes.’
Emily sighed. She would not be wearing any of the lovely bright colours that Erland had chosen for her until the widow’s six months of mourning dress was ended. It was often usual after that to wear dark colours for the rest of the year, but she thought he would forgive her for returning to the turquoise and rose pink that he had loved.
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