The Gawain Legacy

by Jon Mackley

  ‘You’d find a way,’ Will observed. ‘But control is very important to you, isn’t it?’

  Lara’s eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Watching you on the aeroplane, you were panicking, not because you were scared of flying, but because you had to trust your life to someone else.’

  ‘That’s not fair,’ Lara retorted. ‘I’ve had to trust you.’

  Will shook his head. ‘You’ve called the shots since we arrived in Chester.’ He rubbed one eye as he thought. ‘But when you left Stamford you didn’t have a plan, you were just interested in going where the tides of time took you.’

  ‘I had to get away. Things really weren’t going well.’

  ‘I think “desperate” would be closer to the truth.’

  ‘Well, that’s my business,’ Lara snapped.

  ‘Of course,’ Will said, holding his hands up in surrender. ‘So your father never encouraged travel? Haven’t you ever wanted to see the world?’

  Lara shook her head. ‘I think I would like to go back to Paris, if I had more of a command of the language, and just wander around, or befriend a Parisian and have him show me the parts the tourists don’t see.’

  ‘Belle Paris,’ Will said wistfully. ‘A romantic city, no place like it in the world. They say the Seine glitters a deep blue if you visit Paris with the one you love.’

  ‘My husband felt the same about travelling as my father …’ She almost squealed. She hadn’t meant to talk about him, but relaxing, the wine had caught her off guard. She wanted to run away and hide somewhere, but Will’s expression was one of concern.

  She tried to turn her attentions back to her meal, but her hands were clenched into fists and she was stabbing at potatoes in anger, fighting to hold back tears.

  ‘It was really that bad?’ Will prompted.

  Suddenly she found she wanted to talk. Her unspoken emotions had been eating away at her. She had found no one with whom she could share it, impossible to cut out the cancer eating away inside her.

  And yet, here was an offer of friendship. The first she had received in a long time. She was unsure how she should take it, or if she should accept it. Then she was talking, without knowing where to start, without knowing why she was saying these words. ‘I just hate him so much,’ Lara whispered. She released her tears. She didn’t care about anything except getting the hurt out of her.

  ‘Do you want to go somewhere to be by yourself?’ Will asked gently.

  Lara shook her head and wiped her eyes. ‘I don’t have enough tears for what he did to me. Too many regrets and only one lifetime to sort them out. He was so perfect when we were dating. Kind, considerate, loving. But all of that changed after we were married. Once we had financial constraints then all the fun was gone. I’m not sure if I loved him, or whether I loved the excitement of having someone to do things with.’ She smiled uncertainly. ‘Does that sound selfish?’

  Will showed no expression, but he leaned forward and gently touched her hand. His fingers closed over hers and Lara was caught in a paradox of taking comfort from the gesture and wanting to flee.

  ‘Things had been going stale between us. I knew that. I was losing contact with my friends. He was out working and only after a while did I start work to try to supplement our income. I hid a bit of it back every week because I think subconsciously I knew I would need to run. I tried to have a child, hoping that would bond us together.’ She avoided Will’s gaze and wiped away the tears. ‘Mi … He … wasn’t at the birth. Didn’t come and see me for a long time afterwards.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘She … she died,’ Lara heard her voice going husky as she remembered the pain of giving birth to Julia and then the maternity nurse placing a gentle hand over hers before trying to explain. ‘There was a complication. The umbilical cord had wrapped around her neck and strangled Julia. Nothing could save her.’ She looked over at Will, seeking understanding, perhaps even absolution.

  Will just shook his head sadly. ‘There are no contrite phrases or a magic wand to make everything better,’ he said gently. ‘Or if there are, you deserve more than that.’ He smiled at her and she found her guilt lifting, just a little. But she found no more to say and Will did not press her. ‘Did you go anywhere on a honeymoon?’ he asked.

  Lara nodded. ‘The only other time I’ve been abroad. We went to Tuscany. Saw Pisa, saw Florence, just travelled around for a little while. Didn’t have too much problem with the language because we didn’t really say anything.’ She smiled sadly. ‘Or, more likely, that we didn’t have anything to say.’

  There was a long silence as Lara’s own words dried up. Will said nothing for a while, then smiled kindly.

  ‘Eat up,’ he said, lifting his glass. ‘Do you enjoy desserts?’

  ‘Normally yes, but I’m stuffed.’

  ‘Then what do you say we head back to the hotel after this and have a coffee back at home?’

  ‘You’ll stay awake all night, although a good brandy by the fireside wouldn’t go amiss.’

  He shook his head. ‘We’ve had enough to drink. Perhaps I shouldn’t have conceded tonight and we should have drunk coffee instead.’

  ‘I’m glad we did,’ Lara said. ‘It was a fitting complement to a lovely meal. Thank you. All right, coffee it is.’

  They finished up and then as the waiter came to take away their plates, Will asked for the bill. He paid and as the waiter returned their coats, Lara asked ‘I’m curious. What did you eat this evening?’

  Will smiled mischievously. ‘Beef in a peppercorn sauce,’ he smacked his lips. ‘Magnifique!’

  It was quiet outside. The cold air hit her in the face, dispelling any glow she might have felt and sending the alcohol rocketing to her head, but scattering her melancholy. Her fingers tingled in the cold. Shivering, she hunched her shoulders to around her ears and walked quickly through the streets. Will seemed dizzy as well. She smiled: the two of them walking home was reminiscent of a time when she was in college and going home after going to a night-club. She wanted to link arms with Will, walk in silly ways and sing “hey, hey, we’re the monkees”, but she didn’t think that Will’s stoicism would cope with a burst of insanity.

  As they entered Place de l’Horloge, the mechanical figure stuck the bell again. Lara flinched at the sudden sound, and for no reason it sent Will into a fit of laughter. His mirth brought a gentle warmth to her heart and, in her alcoholic euphoria, she knew that with Will by her side, nothing could harm her.

  They walked back along the shopping street, towards the city gate, the Porte de la République. She looked in the windows as though she hadn’t a care in the world. She saw a gorgeous dress in satin. She glanced at the price tag, trying a quick calculation from euros. She gave up. Too expensive anyway.

  ‘Don’t you think it’s absolutely darling,’ she said to Will, taking him by the hand and pointing to it.

  Will nodded, but his eyes were tired. At least he hadn’t grunted and wandered on. She did not let go of his hand.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, as they walked back towards the main gate.

  ‘Cold,’ she said.

  ‘We’ll soon be back in the warm.’ He pointed up at the gaudy flashing lights outside the hotel, an oasis amid the frozen desert.

  She did not worry about stepping into the lift, although time seemed to grind to a halt while she waited to reach the third floor.

  She walked with him to her room, opened the door and searched for a kettle. She saw no such facilities.

  ‘No coffee,’ he said, disappointed and turned to leave.

  ‘Will, wait,’ she said, touching his shoulder. She was breathing heavily. She didn’t know whether it was the alcohol or her fears – she dreaded that it might have been her emotions – controlling her. His scent, his very presence, was a command she couldn’t refuse. She rose to meet him. He seemed uncertain as to her intentions and halted in front of her, then took a step away. Take care, she breathed.
He’s been hurt recently, so very badly hurt.

  Will nodded, as if hearing her thoughts. When she stepped towards him again, he did not retreat. His arms folded around her and, before she knew what was happening, his lips were over hers. She tensed momentarily. There was power behind the kiss. She conceded, surrendering herself to him. He kissed her again and this time his tongue probed into her mouth. She relaxed into his arms, pulling herself away from him, yet falling into his embrace. She was smiling; she had no idea how much she was smiling save she must have looked like a Cheshire cat with a coat hanger in its mouth.

  ‘Oh Will,’ she said. She wondered if he wanted her like she wanted him, whether he had missed human affection the way she’d missed it. She kissed him on the neck, tasting his clean skin; he had also relaxed in her touch. She took him by the hand and led him over to the bed.

  ‘Lara …’ She couldn’t trace any anxiety in his words, but when she spoke, she voiced his fears.

  ‘It’s all right,’ she promised him. Was he still thinking about Janet, and she’d leave him the way Janet had? No more talking. She didn’t have the words to tell him she was there for him, would always be there for him, to pour out his troubles when he was ready. She smiled inwardly; there were no words to describe the pure lust she felt. All she knew was that she wanted him. She reached up at him again and kissed him. This time it was he who surrendered. His arms wrapped around her once more, his hand travelled up her back, reaching her bra. He hesitated, as if waiting for permission.

  A lone thought broke through the fog of her euphoria. Should she be doing this? When she had married, she’d promised herself to someone else, always and forever. But she dismissed those thoughts, knowing ‘he’ had pushed her aside and let her go. Will he think I’m easy? she wondered. The thought was lost as her bra fell undone and her blouse released from her jeans. His hand rubbed over her stomach, seeming to count her ribs for an eternity, before it rose again, his strong fingers tracing gentle circles on her skin. The hand moved higher, cupping her breast, gently flicking over her nipple. Pleasure nerves she’d forgotten ever existed suddenly exploded into life. She bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out in absolute joy. Her blouse fell open. She wondered how long they had been standing there, how long it had taken him to unwrap the present she was offering him. She tried to undo his shirt. Her fingers were numb with excitement. She could no longer feel her feet, but instead her entire body felt alive with the fire of passion.

  Then she was running her fingers over his muscular chest, and she lay back, closing her eyes. She forgot everything except the moment, even forgot her own name, as she was immersed in absolute ecstasy.

  9

  She woke once during the night. For a while, she was disturbed by dreams that evaded her as soon as she opened her eyes. She squinted in the darkness at the sterile walls, looking up and seeing the tiny red dot of a television on standby. It took her a few moments to remember where she was, how she had got here. Then she saw Will sleeping beside her. Lara exhaled in relief; she was finally and really here.

  She watched Will for a while. He was lying on his back, his arms folded across his chest like a mummy. She brushed hair away from his forehead. He smiled gently in the half-light and she turned into him, nuzzling his shoulder, taking comfort from the feel of his muscles, enjoying his musky scent.

  When she awoke again, the winter sun was prising through the curtains. She got up, searching for a fresh pair of knickers and a bra. She pulled on her jeans and blouse, regarded the street through the window. It had rained during the night, and now the roads glistened. Tyres hissed against asphalt. Lara glanced at the ancient walls that surrounded the city. In front of her was one of the gates that would lead into the labyrinth of history. She saw arrow-slits and crenellated walkways that would have served as the city’s defence. In front of the city were rows of tall spindly-looking trees, lonely in their winter nakedness. What history had the walls and the trees seen? What stories could they tell?

  ‘Awake already?’ Will said from behind her. She hadn’t heard him getting up. She didn’t turn, but let his arms enfold her. He lifted her hair and gently kissed her on the neck. She felt safe within his arms, his muscles encircling her, smelling the scent of his after-shave. She smiled. Had she ever been this happy before? She guessed that she must have, but Will was everything that Michael was not. She gritted her teeth. How long had it been since she had thought about Michael? Why was he intruding on her happiness now?

  ‘Are you all right, Pearl?’ Will asked.

  Lara nodded.

  ‘No regrets?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ she said, turning into his embrace. ‘It all happened so suddenly,’ she blurted. ‘I wasn’t sure I was ready, but …’

  ‘You were caught by the moment and let it carry you away,’ Will finished. ‘That’s how it should be. No regrets, just letting go and enjoying yourself.’ His embrace became tighter. Lara felt safer.

  ‘I was never unfaithful to my husband before,’ she said wistfully.

  Will smiled. ‘You won’t be able to say that again.’

  Lara bit her lip, looking up at him, to see if he had rebuked her, but his eyes were closed and his face was a picture of serenity. ‘No regrets,’ she whispered again. ‘I’d just like to know more about you.’

  ‘There’s not much else to know,’ Will said. His smile was enigmatic. ‘You know about Janet, and that my life had been a total shambles before you met me.’ He pulled away from her. ‘I thought it should have ended on the train lines a few days ago. It just shows that, however desperate you think a situation is, it can resolve itself. You just need that new life, that new challenge.’ He kissed her forehead. ‘You have been my elixir of youth, Lara. You’ve given me new purpose. I wouldn’t have got this far without you.’

  Lara smiled at him. ‘I had thought … I was scared you might have been confused in your emotions, that you might have mistaken your feelings of loneliness and gratitude and affection and …’

  He shook his head. ‘My emotions control me. I don’t pretend to understand them. But I know how I feel about you.’ He opened his eyes, gave her a little smile. She reached up and kissed him. ‘Come kiss me, sweet and twenty,’ she said with a coquettish grin.

  He kissed her back, gently and continued to hold her, but looked away, out at the coiling streets. He sniffed the air and his eyes twinkled with an excitement she had never seen in him before. ‘We’re close,’ he breathed. ‘No one’s ever got this far before.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Do you want breakfast?’

  She nodded and he quickly showered and dressed before taking her downstairs. In the foyer of the hotel he found a map and a small brochure about the Papal Palace.

  She had expected a continental breakfast consisting of a croissant, a roll and some cheese, but the buffet offered a much more ambitious idea of breakfast. She took a bowl of muesli with natural yoghurt, decorated with slices of fresh banana. Will returned with a roll, some smoked ham and his customary cup of coffee.

  ‘Well, it’s been good coming here,’ Lara said, ‘But, we may have followed totally the wrong clues and be on a wild goose chase.’

  Will nodded. ‘I thought about that. But everything seems to add up. And I think we would have been disappointed if we hadn’t come this far to at least try.’

  ‘But Avignon’s a big place. We were lucky with Chester Cathedral …’

  ‘It wasn’t luck. You eliminated the parts of the cathedral that weren’t relevant.’

  ‘We were still looking for a needle in a haystack,’ Lara protested.

  ‘So we do the same thing in Avignon. We eliminate the buildings that aren’t relevant. How many were standing six hundred years ago?’

  ‘A lot,’ Lara told him. ‘I read it in a guidebook. This place has been around for thirteen hundred years or so.’

  ‘Same length of time as Holywell, then.’

  ‘Things the poet would have seen then might not be standing now. Just think about the
soldiers in the Revolution trying to tear down the city walls.’

  ‘The important thing was they didn’t succeed,’ Will said. ‘We can start with the Pope’s Palace. If the poet knew Monmouth said Gawain was Arthur’s Ambassador to the Pope, then he’d have seen something in the Pope’s audience chamber, or the place where the ambassadors stayed. That has to be our first port of call.’

  They ate quickly, eager to go out into the streets. The skies were clear and for the first time, Lara was able to predict there was little chance of rain that day. Even so, the wind cut through her.

  Her anxiety of the previous evening had abated. Perhaps she was coming to terms with being in France; or perhaps she was secure in the knowledge that Will cared about her and would keep her safe. Every once in a while, Will smiled gently down at her.

  The streets were now packed with people going about their daily business. Will walked quickly, excited rather than worried. This was one step closer to their prize. They walked hand in hand like young lovers on a honeymoon.

  Having passed through the Place de l’Horloge, they saw the great early gothic arches flanking the entrance. High sandy coloured towers with hook-like spires and machicolated walls, which made it look like a fortress to the casual visitor.

  The main square in front of the palace was made from cobbled stones the same colour as the palace. A few tourists sauntered down the slopes to the commercial centre of the city; local crowds didn’t come here. In the distance, Lara heard the low chiming of the church bells. In the summertime, this would have been a hive of activity. A café, currently shuttered up, would have rows of chairs and tables in the street for visitors to soak up the atmosphere.

  Will paid their entrance fee and bought a guidebook. Lara scanned through the pages and realised only a small amount was open to visitors: one part had been converted into a centre for archives and other sections were used as convention halls. ‘It’d be just our luck to discover what we’re looking for is in one of those rooms,’ Will said.