Dan climbed a stepladder with some effort. “Ready?”
Freya nodded.
He began to peel the well-taped plastic sheets away from the wall.
“So, where are you up to?” Walter gestured toward the tomb.
Freya shrugged. “Still negotiating, but I’m insisting on a number of things.”
Katherine eyed Freya. “Can you do that? I thought a treasure trove . . .”
“Is the property of the state. Yes, it is, but this is a bit complicated. In the end it would be a PR disaster for them if they tried to force their way onto private property, so we need each other. Besides, soon the weather will keep interlopers away until spring. Some of those journalists don’t like cold water.” Freya’s laugh was grim. “Here we go. Watch your step inside the passage, though, there’s rubble everywhere.”
Holding lights, the visitors squeezed through into the passage and walked to the tomb chamber. Elizabeth stopped. Awestruck, she clutched Walter’s arm. “Freya, I don’t know what to say.”
“I know, Mum, I know.”
“It’s better than the pictures, Dan.” Walter had found his tongue. He patted Elizabeth’s hand absently; they smiled at each other, both of them dazed.
The ship lay just as Freya, Dan, and Katherine remembered, but brighter illumination showed them so much more. The mass of objects was overwhelming, and it would be a life’s work to assess and understand what lay before them.
Elizabeth walked to the stern of the vessel, and Freya joined her, tucking a hand through the crook of her arm as her mother wiped her eyes. “I am so very sorry Michael did not live to see this.” Freya cuddled her. “That’s very generous, Mum.” She hesitated. “We’ve never really talked about why he left, not really, but I think I know.”
Elizabeth Dane stared at her daughter. “Tell me, because I’ve never understood.”
“He didn’t know it, but he had to come here. He had to come to Findnar. He belonged here, truly, because there was unfinished business. That’s what I think.”
“Unfinished? But what do you mean?”
“Dan?” Walter called out to his son; he was staring down at the bier. “I thought you said there were three skeletons—one in the stern and two under the pall.”
Such a casual little sentence. Freya stiffened.
Dan limped forward. “Yes, Dad.”
Freya joined them. “Three men, from their size.”
Walter said happily, “But there’s another skeleton under there. I can see why you missed it; you have to look really carefully.” He stood back.
Walter was right. The dome of a fourth cranium, a small one, was visible beneath the pall. It lay between the skulls of two of the larger skeletons.
Dan touched Freya’s arm. “That’s his skeleton, isn’t it? The one on the left.”
Dry-mouthed, Freya nodded. “Yes.” There was the otter-handled knife.
Fascinated, Walter peered at the delicate bones that lay between the larger skeletons. “The phalanges of the middle one”—he pointed—“they’ve mingled with the ones on the left. The big chap with the knife. Katherine, what do you think? Maybe it’s a kid.”
The librarian caught Freya’s glance. “No, not a child. These will be the bones of a woman. Quite a small woman.”
EPILOGUE
THE GREAT equinoctial gale battered the front windows of Compline, wind and rain assaulting the old house with useless fury. Nights were drawing in, this was fire and red wine weather, but at Michael’s desk Freya was absorbed in working on her thesis.
“Time to eat.” Dan caressed her shoulder.
She leaned back trustingly, put her hand on his.
“So, how did you know it was me?” He bent. “Might have been anyone.” He kissed the hollow of her throat.
“Because I have faith.” She turned in his embrace. “Mmmm, something smells nice.”
“That will be the cassoulet. Table’s set, wine’s open and breathing, just steaming the greens. Come to the kitchen, Freya Dane.”
“Cassoulet? I thought it was you, Dan Boyne.”
“You can’t have one without the other.” He grinned. “And if you don’t eat soon, you’ll fall over. Bread and jam staggers, that’s what you’ll get, and then where will you be?”
She giggled. “Bread and jam what?”
Dan said solemnly, “What Walter used to tell me. Very serious condition indeed when you work too hard; come on, it’ll keep till morning.” He held out a hand.
Freya took it and got up.
“I know it will, it’s just that I’ve done so much reworking of the thesis since we found the longship, and that means there’s so much more to do.” She followed him to the kitchen.
“But all of it good, you said.” Dan flourished a tea towel at the kitchen table. “Sit.” He pulled out Michael’s chair.
Freya meekly sat. “Yes, it does feel better now. The crucifix has given me a whole new way to approach the topic. So much more real this time, not just theory, and I’m really enjoying the writing.” She looked surprised. “Who’d have thought that?”
Dan brought a Le Creuset pot to the table and removed the lid. “Duck and pork, best mashed potatoes, and green beans plus a pretty nice bottle of Tasmanian pinot noir; should be good.”
“But where did you find the wine?”
He splashed some into her glass. “Not Portsolly, that’s for sure. To us.” He lifted his glass to Freya.
She lifted hers. “To us.” They drank happily. “Whatever happened to the man who couldn’t cook?”
“He learned.” Dan busied himself serving the food.
Freya glanced around the candlelit kitchen. On the dresser were a number of cookbooks, and a couple of favorites were starting to look well used. “I love this house and the fact that we live here together. Thank you.”
“No need for thanks.” His glance was shy.
Freya put down her knife and fork. “Yes, there is. You saved me, Dan.”
“We were both lost.” He reached a hand across the table, and she took it. “Getting cold, though.”
“What?”
“The food.”
Freya laughed out loud. She ate with relish. “This is very good.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
The silence between them was easy and companionable until Dan said, “By the way, I heard something interesting today in Port—about the fuss.”
Fuss was their word for the media frenzy that had visited Find-nar like a sudden storm.
Freya said accusingly, “You’ve been to the newsagent.”
He laughed. “You’re right, and I cannot tell a lie.”
“And so?”
“So.” Dan sat back. “It wasn’t Simon.”
“Then who?”
“Robert Buchan.”
“Him!”
“Yep. Seems he left the cover sheet behind. He uses the news-agency fax from time to time because he doesn’t own a computer. It was a contract with a picture agency for images of ‘The Findnar Treasureship.’ ”
Freya’s eyes darkened. “He got the pictures from somewhere, though.”
Dan nodded as he filled her glass again. “And that will be an interesting conversation when we have it with the man.”
“I don’t think I care. I hope it made him happy.” She held the wine up against a candle flame, admiring the color. “We.” She glanced at Dan. “And will we have longer together than they did—or my parents?” Freya was without defenses.
“Yes.” He leaned across the tabletop and cupped her face in his hands.
“Yes. Just that?”
“We’ve been given this chance, of that I am verra sure.”
“I’m never sure of anything.” The half-laugh broke.
“Yes, you are. You trust me as I trust you. Creideas in Gaelic, and this I swear—I will never desert you, Freya Dane. If I go, I will always return. Look at me.”
Freya was brave. She lifted her eyes to his, and Dan was smiling.
“We have been given to each other. There’s completion in this.”
She was shaken. “You really believe that?”
“I do.”
Her eyes were enormous. “And is the slow wooing therefore finished?”
“It is.” Daniel Boyne leaned forward. “I love you, Freya Dane, and there is no more to be said.”
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book was a long time coming, and now that it’s finished I owe thanks to so many people for their patience.
I am fortunate indeed to have such understanding publishers. Judith Curr at Atria Books, Simon & Schuster in New York; Carolyn Caughey, Hodder Headline in London; and Lou Johnson, Simon & Schuster in Sydney have been saintly indeed, waiting for this one to finally land.
This is a story I’ve wanted to write for a very long time. And when, first time around, The Island House (then called Freya Dane) just would not behave itself and I put it aside at second draft to write The Dressmaker, I still knew that, one day, I’d finish it. Perhaps my characters drove the process. I don’t think I did, but they and I got there in a photo finish at last.
I’ve had so much help along the way. When it was time to start on this manuscript again, Nicola O’Shea, my Australian editor, read the story as it returned to life and provided great, great advice. That forensic eye is priceless when I’m lost in the bog of my own making and half-formed characters go missing along with the plot.
And Sarah Branham, too, my kind editor from Simon and Schuster in New York—though kind does not mean indulgent here, it means bracing and clever—has an overview second to none. I hang on tight to that first feedback from Sarah because it always sets me straight and fills me with courage. And, more recently, Larissa Edwards, at Simon and Schuster in Sydney, has been a wonderful and warm support as we’ve begun our working relationship.
Others I must mention. Suzanne O’Neil gave me great advice, too, through the first couple of drafts; Tina Gitsas was encouragement itself when she read the story; and Franscois McHardy believed in the book, too, from day one. Alexandra Arnold, in Sarah Branham’s office, was just absolutely tireless in sorting out problems—especially the dramas of getting manuscripts back and forth between New York City and the wilds of Tasmania at the height of the December silly season. Thanks, too, to the talented Evelyn Saunders, who supplied me with invaluable research during the writing of the first draft. Everything from how oil rigs are run in the North Sea to countless facts about the Vikings and a great deal more besides.
And where would I be without Rick Raftos, agent and friend of such long standing? Can you believe I first talked to you, Rick, in 1984 when I was a starting-out producer and wanted to work with one of your star writers? No. Neither can I. So long ago, and the wheel has turned full circle. I call myself a writer now, thanks to you and to Rachel (Skinner) also. She it was who rang me from your office after reading the first hundred pages of what, eventually, became The Innocent. “Get off your bum,” she said. “There’s a book here.” And so there was.
But living day to day with a writer is, I think, a difficult thing. In writing mode, you’re just as likely to share the house with a ghost as a wife; a shadow of someone who barely talks, bumps into walls, looks vague when addressed, and stops cooking (and I like to cook). So, finally, this is to thank first, last, and always Andrew Blaxland. Tolerant beyond all understanding when you, also, have too much to do, you take care of me when I’m not safe to be let outside and so many other times as well.
How fortunate I am to be married to you.
With love and gratitude.
Posie
POSIE GRAEME-EVANS
Tasmania, 2012
INTRODUCTION
Freya Dane, a PhD candidate in archaeology, arrives on the island of Findnar off the northern coast of Scotland. After years of estrangement from her father—an archaeologist who recently died—Freya has come to the island to find out more about him and his work. As Freya explores the island and her father’s research, she discovers much more than just the roots of Findnar’s history. In AD 800 a young girl named Signy from the local Pictish tribe is taken in by the surviving members of the Christian community who have settled on the island of Findnar. As Signy grows up behind the walls of the monastery, she finds herself at the center of the clash between the island’s three religious cultures—caught between her adopted Christian faith, her native Pictish religion, and the Viking man she loves.
Alternating between present-day and ninth-century Scotland, The Island House is an intertwined story of fascinating discoveries and two women connected to each other over centuries.
QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION
1. Reread the opening passage, which describes the brothers’ burial chamber: “The dead must have attendants in the next life and, too, sacrifice paid the blood debt of betrayal. Murder, unappeased, makes the dead malevolent.” (p. 1) What tone does this preface set for The Island House? Who do you think is the “attendant”?
2. Freya describes an “unholy trinity” of anxiety, fear, and yearning that have followed her since childhood. (p. 7) How do these feelings influence her actions throughout the novel? What motivates Freya’s character? Do you think this “trinity” still defines Freya by the conclusion of The Island House?
3. How does the “Wanderer comet” influence both Freya and Signy’s lives? Reflect on instances in the novel where the comet is mentioned. What do you think “the Wanderer” might symbolize?
4. Freya reflects early in the novel: “Perhaps, in the end, there were no accidents.” (p. 32) How is the theme of destiny and fate played in The Island House? Do you agree with Freya? Why or why not?
5. Freya and her father both longed to rebuild their relationship, but never made the first step to reconnect. What stood in the way? Why do you think they never reached out to one another? How might Freya’s discovery have been different if her father was still alive?
6. Dan was initially withdrawn and hostile toward Freya. What caused him to open up? How do Dan and Freya transform one another? What do they learn from each other?
7. Is Signy’s loyalty to her family and need for a deep religious faith greater than her love for Bear? Is she the author of her own tragedy?
8. Why does Signy become a nun? Why does she remain devoted to the Christian lifestyle, even though she struggles to fit in? What does this say about her character? What finally causes her to turn away from her adopted faith? What was her breaking point?
9. What was Simon’s motivation for taking the pictures? Do you believe he ever had legitimate feelings for Freya? Or do you think he was using her?
10. The Island House alternates between the present day and AD 800. Did you relate to or have a preference for one storyline more than the other? If so, which one? How did the two women’s stories parallel each other? Do you think Freya and Signy would have understood each other if they both lived in the same century?
11. Both Freya’s and Signy’s lives change dramatically over the course of The Island House. Reflect on each character in the opening pages of the novel. How did each evolve or mature as characters?
12. There are many religious and supernatural elements in the novel—from Signy’s ancestry as the daughter of the Pictish shaman to Freya’s discoveries on Findnar. Discuss each character’s relationship with their faith. How does religion affect their lives, and those around them? When is religion a source of comfort? A source of contention?
13. Discuss the ending of The Island House. How do you think Signy’s bones ended up on the ship with Bear’s?
ENHANCE YOUR BOOK CLUB
1. Freya’s father, Michael Dane, has only one word carved on his gravestone: “Scholar.” Freya wonders to herself, “How could a life be summed up in just one word?” (p. 123) If you had to pick just one, what word would you use to describe Freya? Signy? Yourself? Your fellow book club members? Discuss this concept and your chosen word at your next meeting.
2. �
��Freya” is the Norse goddess of love, beauty, fertility, and destiny, while “Signy” is the name of heroines in two connected legends from Scandinavian mythology. Divide your book club into two groups: one group that will research the goddess Freya and one that will research the importance of Signy in Scandinavian mythology. Have each group present their findings at your book club discussion. Do you see any parallels with what you found in your research on Signy’s and Freya’s characters in The Island House? Finally, research the origins of your own name to share with your book club.
3. Get a feel for a coastal Scottish town by watching the movie Local Hero, starring Burt Lancaster. The 1983 film is one of Posie Graeme-Evans’s favorites and was partially filmed in Pennan, a town located in northern Scotland. The town and beautiful landscapes featured will help you visualize the setting of The Island House. Visit www.undiscoveredscotland.co.uk/pennan/pennan/ for more photos.
4. Author Posie Graeme-Evans drew inspiration for The Island House from the Scottish landscape during research trips in 2006 and 2011. Real standing stones on the island of Orkney—the Ring of Brodgar—and at Callanish on the Isle of Lewis provided reference for the ring of stones on Findnar; both sites are over five thousand years old. Neolithic passage tombs at Maes Howe (Orkney) and Newgrange in Ireland were also influential in her descriptions of the tomb of Signy’s ancestors on Findnar. View pictures of these remarkable and mystical places and learn more about Posie by visiting www.posiegraemeevans.com.
READER’S COMPANION
This ebook presents a Reader’s Companion of additional content, including a sample chapter of The Dressmaker, currently available from Atria Books.
The Island House Page 43