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The Seer's Stone

Page 7

by Frances Mary Hendry


  Tanya couldn’t answer that. Beth was pleased to have got the last word for once.

  “Well!” Mr Craig was quite shocked. “I must say, I’d not have thought it of your mother. Fancy, a girl of your age going shooting. It’s not ladylike.”

  “Watch out!” Tanya yelped. With a wild wrench at the steering wheel, Mr Craig attended to his driving again, and in a huff, scarcely spoke for the rest of the trip.

  Everything dies sometime... But not yet! Reminded of her mother, Beth tried to send her a mental message of love and reassurance, and also desperate need. ‘Mum, you’re going to get better, you’ll be all right! I love you! Mum, you’ve got to be all right! What’ll I do without you?’

  Behind her, Tanya fondled the scrying stone, rubbing her thumb to and fro across the smooth surface, praying that it would work. Was it really Aunt Mary, then, that she had seen in the stone? Would they be too late? At least the Mandrake man didn’t know about them. About the stone being here. That was one good thing. Back at Firthview, Mr Mandrake was just finishing his leisurely packing. He locked his cases, picked them up and strolled downstairs into the hall. It had stopped raining; he’d have a pleasant drive south. How cheap of Beth, to insist on him paying! He wouldn’t dream of cheating them. They’d need it all. He had, after all, done far, far worse to them. He smirked as he rang the bell.

  He was surprised when Mrs Craig came out into the hall. “Yes? Oh, your bill, Mr Mandrake! Beth left it here somewhere ­yes, here it is. Yes, a cheque’s fine, I’m sure.”

  As he signed his cheque, he asked casually, “Has Beth gone out, then?”

  “Yes. Off to the hospital. I’m afraid her mother’s had a relapse. It sounds serious, too. A coma, she said.”

  “A relapse? Oh, dear!” He tried to look sympathetic. Young Tanya must be wishing she’d listened to him, and could ask for his help now. Too bad; too late. Or was it? She might be more easily persuaded now. But could he trust her in the future? He could bind her in various ways. He’d done it with others, now his terrified slaves back in London. But with her power, once she could control it, and her wilfulness, she’d end up a rival, not an assistant. No, safer - better not. No, of course he wasn’t afraid of the brat.

  Mrs Craig, relieved of her husband’s stream of chatter, was making the most of her freedom. “I just told Tanya to go along with Beth, and I’d see to the house. She had a good luck charm that she thought might help. So superstitious, modern children, aren’t they?” She didn’t like him, and was glad to see the back of him. “Date, amount, signature, all correct. Thank-you, that’s just grand! Goodbye, then. Drive carefully, and enjoy the rest of your holiday!”

  He had smiled his thanks and was carrying his cases out of the door when what she had said struck him. He almost dropped the cases, swinging round in a hurry. “Did you say - Tanya had a charm?”

  “Yes.” She was puzzled, slightly alarmed by his urgency.

  “What was it like?” He waited, breathless.

  “A kind of stone ring - “

  “They’ve gone to Inverness Hospital? You’re sure, woman?” His eyes were piercing blue.

  Flustered, insulted, she bridled. “Yes. But there isn’t an Inverness Hospital. Or rather, there’s three or four. Raigmore, and the Royal Northern, and Craig Dunain, and -”

  “More than one? There’s more than one hospital up here?”

  “Yes, indeed!” She was really insulted now, his influence fading as the force of her own annoyance grew. “You Londoners all think civilisation stops at the Watford Junction -”

  That lying little madam, Tanya! Thought herself so clever, did she, deceiving him -he’d make her suffer for it! The stone was still here, still within reach! They’d taken it to try to cure the Mackenzie woman, he knew it. “Think!” he commanded Mrs Craig, dropping a case and grasping her arm. “You know this godforsaken part of the world. I don’t. Which hospital was she taken to? Where did they go?” His eyes were blue...

  “Where?” Mrs Craig’s mind went blank. “Er - Raigmore. Yes, I’m sure it was.”

  Raigmore Hospital. Yes, that sounded familiar. He let her go, leaving her to recover slowly, rubbing at her arm in mixed fright, anger and shock. He strolled out to his car, slung the cases in the boot, slid into the driver’s seat and pressed the button to lower the roof. The rain had stopped; the sun was just coming out; the world was fresh and bright and full of joy. It was going to be a wonderful day... The engine started with a deep snarl, like a tiger; he always enjoyed the sound of power, and this morning he especially relished it. Today, the tiger would sink its claws in deep! He laughed in delight. How melodramatic!

  When he got his hands on that cheeky brat... Gravel scattered. The long car skidded out of the yard, tyres screeching.

  Mr Craig jolted round the last roundabout and turned in to Raigmore Hospital. “I’ll let you off at the patients’ entrance. Here we are. My, that was close! These ambulances do take up so much room! I’ll go and find a parking space, my dears, and then wait for you in the cafeteria. I need a cuppa, after that drive!”

  Not the only one, Tanya thought.

  Tanya couldn’t help grinning when Beth said, “Thank-you,” automatically to the automatic doors. Typical Beth! She followed Beth at a trot to the lift, and then along to the ward.

  Mary’s bed was empty.

  “She’s gone!” Beth was white.

  “Don’t be soft, Beth! Calm down!” Round the corner, a nurse was writing at a desk. “Where’s Mrs Mackenzie? This is her daughter Beth. We was asked to come in. What’s happened?” They mustn’t be too late.

  The nurse gave them a professional, reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, dear, we’ve just moved her to Room 4 so she wouldn’t be disturbed. You wait here, I’ll go and see if Doctor Arkwright’s free to speak to you.”

  While Beth peered anxiously after the nurse, Tanya was looking around. “Ey up, there’s Room 4!” She hurried towards it, tense with fright.

  “We can’t burst in!” Beth tried to stop her, but she had the door open already. Beth nervously followed her in, not noticing as she sagged at the knees with relief. The coverlets were blue, not pink.

  Mary was very pale, lying absolutely motionless. A notice was fastened to the head of the bed; NOTHING BY MOUTH. Her arms lay on the covers, the right in plaster, the left with a drip-feed attached.

  Beth moved round to the far side of the bed to take her mother’s left hand, whispering, “Mum! Mum, it’s me, Beth! Can you hear me, mum?”

  Mary didn’t move.

  The nurse came in, looking annoyed. “I thought I said -” Looking at Beth’s tearless white face, she shook her head. “Never mind, dear. At least you’re not the hysterical sort.”

  “No - no...” Beth muttered.

  “No, and just as well, too. Pull that chair forwards for her, lassie. Sit down, dear.”

  An elderly doctor appeared. The nurse greeted him with a shake of her head. He took Mary’s pulse, looking grave. “I’m Doctor Arkwright.” His eyes winced from Tanya to Beth. “Are you Mrs Mackenzie’s daughter?”

  “Yeah, she is.” Tanya answered him. “An’ I’m her cousin, Beth’s that is. I’m Tanya. What’s going on? What’s happened?”

  Doctor Arkwright looked at them doubtfully. “Is there no adult - no uncle or aunt who could come? A neighbour? Nobody at all?”

  “Ain’t nobody else. Just us.” Tanya was getting angry. “For crying out loud -”

  The doctor shrugged, accepting it, but spoke deliberately to the respectable girl.

  “Well, Beth, your mother is in a coma. You know what that means?”

  Typical grown-up, talking down to the kiddies, Tanya thought. “What is it, a brain haemorrhage? From the fall last night, eh?”

  “It could be, er, Tanya.” Rather taken aback by the expertise, he gave more information than he’d meant to. “We’ve taken X-rays and scans, but unfortunately they don’t show us anything, and her pulse is steadily growing fainter. I’m afraid we’re
going to have to put her on a ventilator very shortly.” He looked across at the nurse. “Will you warn Intensive Care, Nurse Jones? They’re expecting her, and we can’t leave it much longer.” He glanced down. “In fact, I’m glad you called me. Get a porter to move the bed down now.”

  The nurse nodded. “Right away. Don’t worry, Beth,” she said kindly as she went out. “We’re doing all we can.”

  Tanya sniffed. “If yer dunno what’s wrong, what can yer do?” she demanded.

  “Oh, there’s a lot we still haven’t tried,” the doctor replied cheerfully. “The ventilator’s what the films call a life support machine. It’ll give us time to do more tests. We’ll find out what’s wrong. And sometimes a good rest is all people need to heal themselves.”

  Tanya bit her lip. She didn’t believe a word of it. Aunt Mary could be in this coma for ages - forever... How could they get rid of him? He’d not let them try the stone on Aunt Mary, that was for sure! And once she was in Intensive Care, she’d be watched all the time, it’d be impossible...

  The doctor was saying, “Now, Beth, I want you to speak to her, try to get through to her. But don’t be too upset if it doesn’t work -” His bleeper sounded suddenly. “I must go and phone in,” the doctor said. “Go ahead, Beth, talk away.”

  Beth leaned forwards. “Wake up, mum! Come on, wake up! It’s me, Beth!”

  “That’s it.” The doctor turned to Tanya. “The porter will be along for her soon.”

  “Ta.” Tanya nodded agreeably as he left. But no sooner had the door closed behind him than she was tugging out the stone from her pocket. “Here’s our chance!” She dived towards the sink in the corner, to get a glass of water.

  Beth didn’t move.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Her cousin shook her head doubtfully. “It’s no use. It won’t work. Maybe in the past, when people believed in it, but not now!”

  Tanya’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, that’s all we need, Beth, you losing yer nerve!” But then her defiant, stubborn temper shot up. She snarled at her cousin, “Well, I ain’t giving up, even if you are! What we got to lose? An’ we got yer mam to win!” She glared across the bed in furious frustration. “It can cure folks. It can - you know it can. Yer dad said so. So come on! You take the glass. We got to dip the stone in the water -”

  “It’s not holy water,” Beth objected, reluctantly taking the glass Tanya held out.

  Tanya moaned. “Come on! Can’t expect everything to be perfect.” Beth wasn’t convinced. “Look, I’ll bless it, then, an’ that’ll make it holy water.” How did you bless water? She held her pendant cross the right way up, over the glass, and looked upwards in urgent pleading. “God bless this water, please, amen.” She dipped the cross in the water.

  She hadn’t meant to do anything, except keep Beth happy, to help the stone to work. But a feeling of warmth, of zinging strength and comfort filled her and flowed down her arm through her fingers until she was surprised to see the water was fizzing. She shook her hand, rubbed her fingers, frowned, smiled doubtfully. What on earth..?

  Beth rose to her feet, facing Tanya across the bed, taking her hand. The glass felt uncanny, as if it was glowing, though it wasn’t. The despair and depression lifted in her mind. Maybe - maybe...

  Tanya lifted the stone, Beth the glass. The girls reached out over the bed so that their fingers were touching both the glass and the stone. Beth concentrated fiercely. “Stone,” she commanded it, “stone, make this water heal mum. For Christ’s sake, amen.” What else? Nothing. That was all she wanted.

  She nodded. Tanya dipped the stone into the water.

  Nothing happened.

  Beth started to slump. She’d said it, she’d told Tanya...

  The glass was growing warm in her hand. It seemed to be heavier, too, which was daft. But from somewhere a stir of hope, of confidence, came surging up in her, rising higher and higher. She had to clench her teeth to stop herself yelling in triumph.

  “Yeah, the power’s here. What now?” Tanya whispered.

  “We give mum a sip,” Beth declared. “Come on,” she urged, as Tanya glanced at the ‘Nothing by Mouth’ notice. “Just a taste. If it’s really magic, a sip’s all it’ll take.”

  Tanya let Beth have the stone, while she eased up the pillow with Mary’s head on it, her mouth sagging open. Beth held the glass to Mary’s mouth. The water flowed up, bulged at the edge of the glass. The marvellous strength inside her was trying to burst out. A tiny ripple trickled over onto Mary’s slack lips, and Beth gasped with relief, release, as energy suddenly gushed out of her.

  Behind them, the door opened. The nurse came in with two porters, saw what they were doing and shouted, “What are you at? Stop that! D’you want to choke her?” She dived forwards to seize the glass from Beth and glared at them furiously. “Never in all my born days - can’t you read?”

  They were paying her no heed. She turned to tend to her patient.

  Mary swallowed. Her lips were moving, sucking. She sighed deeply. Her eyes opened, blindly staring.

  They all stood still. Mary sighed again, moved a hand, and then seemed to give up. She relaxed, settling back down into her lethargy.

  “No! Mum, come back!” Beth leaned in close to her, shaking her hand slightly in her urgency. “Oh, mum, wake up!” she called. “Come on, mum, wake up! It’s Beth! Tanya, help me! Mum, wake up! Oh, please, mum!”

  Tanya reached out her hand and clasped Beth’s, with the stone between their palms. They leaned over Mary, willing their love and care towards her, willing her better. “Come on, Aunt Mary!” “Mum, mum, wake up!”

  Mary’s half-open eyes slowly focused. She sighed again, and sniffed, her nose twitching comically. From blankness, her face turned to recognition, and a tiny smile. “...Beth...” Her voice was a breath. She licked her lips. “More, please... more...”

  The news of Mary’s miraculous recovery flew round the ward. Nurse after nurse, doctor after doctor stuck their heads round the door, delighted, congratulating her and the girls, taking her pulse, listening to her chest, examining her eyes and reflexes, until the staff nurse cleared them all out. “Let the poor woman have a bit of peace, now!” She went out last, smiling back at them.

  Mary felt astonishingly well. Not full of energy, certainly, but alert and cheerful. Her face ached with smiling. Now she lay back, white and tired, treasuring her daughter’s love and the glowing exultation in her niece’s face as Beth held up the stone where her aunt could see it.

  “Am I right?” she whispered. “It was the stone that did it?” She didn’t believe it... but something had worked.

  “Yeah, Aunt Mary. It were Beth done it!”

  “Tanya made me.” Beth was sniffing happily.

  “Both done a bit of it, I suppose, Aunt Mary.”

  “Thank-you both, then. I love you.”

  What was there to say, with Mary back from death’s door? “Get yer anything, Aunt Mary? Some fruit? Shop’s open downstairs, seen it on the way in.”

  “That’s a kind thought.” Mary considered for a moment. “Some orange squash, maybe? They’ll keep me in for a day or two, I shouldn’t wonder. You can dip the stone in it before you go, and magic it for me!”

  “Sure thing!” Then Tanya’s face fell. “Beth ­you got any money? Never thought in the rush.”

  They all looked exasperated, until Beth’s face cleared. “Mr Craig! He’ll lend us some, just until we get back. There’s all the people who left this morning - their money’s in the sideboard drawer. We’re not short, we just haven’t got any cash with us.”

  “Completely useless, the whole lot of us!” Tanya left, chortling.

  Behind her, Mary leaned back and eased her right arm, strapped across her chest. “Beth, how did you get on this morning? Did the breakfasts go okay? Was Mr Mandrake any bother?”

  Beth hesitated. What should she say? All about Mr Mandrake’s threats, and everybody leaving? She didn’t want to worry her mother. But Mary, watching her, purs
ed her lips. “Look, love! I may not be well yet, but I’m not daft. If I think you’re not telling me everything, I’ll only worry. Come on, now! Spill the beans!”

  Downstairs in the coffee bar, Mr Craig was overjoyed to hear of Mary’s recovery, and absolutely refused to lend Tanya a couple of pounds. “It’s not a loan, it’s my pleasure, dear! My privilege! Oh, I couldn’t be happier, really I couldn’t! We’ll get her some flowers as well. Come along!” He marched off to the shop. Tanya, slightly embarrassed, was towed along, her arms piled with roses, orange squash, a melon, grapes - “Green ones, of course, dear! Black grapes mean a funeral! Now, what choccies have you got, ladies?”

  While he pondered over the small selection, two men in white coats joined the queue, laughing. “Parked right in the ambulance drive-in! He should lose his licence!”

  The other agreed. “Anybody who can run that car doesn’t need to worry about parking tickets. The insurance alone’s probably more than my salary.” He sighed enviously. “Wish I could afford it! Nothing like a Porsche to bring a gleam to a nurse’s eye.”

  “But a gold convertible - a bit over the top, wouldn’t you say, old boy?”

  “Positively vulgar, my dear chap!” They laughed together.

  A Porsche convertible. Gold.

  The melon fell. “Oh, butter-fingers, Tanya dear - Tanya? Tanya!”

  Luckily there was a lift just waiting. On Mary’s floor, Tanya was first out, racing along the corridors and round the corners to crash into Room 4 and stop, panting, angry, her throat closing in fright.

  Mr Mandrake turned towards her and smiled. “Hello, Tanya.”

  Chapter 8

  Mr Mandrake was relaxed and totally at ease, perched on the side of Mary’s bed. Beside him, Beth sat frozen by her mother’s pillow, holding her mother’s left hand far too tightly for comfort.

  “Come in, come in! Ah, white roses. How unsuitable for your dear aunt here, and yet how suitable for me. The language of flowers,” he explained, reaching to take the bunch from Tanya. He sniffed luxuriously. “Ahh. A charming Victorian idea. White roses mean ‘I do not love you’. ‘Non amo te, Sabidi.’ ‘I do not love thee, Doctor Fell, the reason why I cannot tell; but this alone I know full well, I do not -’”

 

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