On the Edge of Darkness

by Barbara Erskine

  He flushed a little, embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry if my scepticism is unwelcome here. I am learning.’ He paused. ‘I know most of the problem is Liza’s at the moment, but I’ve had dreams recently – nightmares.’ He shivered and glanced at Meryn who was watching him in silence. ‘I’m afraid for Liza.’ He floundered on uncomfortably. ‘And I’m afraid for my wife and son. I don’t know why this has happened!’

  Meryn said nothing. He continued to watch Adam with unblinking eyes.

  Adam shoved his hands deep into his trouser pockets. He was growing more and more unhappy with the man’s silence. ‘She seems to be a ghost, but I don’t know if she’s alive or dead.’

  ‘Sit down, Dr Craig,’ Meryn spoke at last, as though he had heard nothing that Adam had said. He went to stand in front of the window as Adam found himself a place on the old sofa next to Liza. Adam glanced sideways at her but she was staring straight ahead, her eyes seemingly fixed in space. He looked down at his feet and grimaced, feeling like a small boy summoned to the study of his headmaster as Meryn turned to look down the hillside towards the distant Wye valley. ‘The girl, who, for our purposes we shall consider very much alive, has been using something of Liza’s to establish a contact.’ He spoke in the soft lilting tones of the Welsh mountains. ‘Liza thinks it may be the comb she lost in Edinburgh before she moved and its pair, here, has been moving about by itself, perhaps under some kind of psychic influence. A comb is a real possibility. It is not the comb itself so much as the hairs which may have been attached to it which are used to make contact. It is a very simple technique. One used by adepts the world over.’

  Adam found his mouth had gone dry.

  ‘Unfortunately the fact that this girl has established a link in this way means that Liza is going to have ongoing problems unless we can sever the connection. Have you, Dr Craig –’ he swung round and fixed Adam once more with his piercing gaze – ‘any reason to think she may have anything of yours?’ He waited only a second and answered for Adam, giving him no time to think. ‘I assume that she doesn’t, or she would have been able to reach you.’

  ‘If my nightmares are anything to go by I think she has reached me.’ Adam’s voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat loudly, trying to dispel the intense silence which clung to the room like a pall. ‘I’ve never been very, what you might call, psychic. I’m a scientist.’ He gave an apologetic grin. ‘From the very start it was Liza she seemed to be able to talk to. To reach. I don’t know how she does it.’ He grasped suddenly at straws. ‘Brid is a healer. Like you.’ He smiled and hoped suddenly that he hadn’t sounded patronising. ‘Such people have certain abilities, I know.’

  ‘We all have such abilities, Dr Craig,’ Meryn answered soberly. ‘Even you, did you but know it.’ He walked across to the empty hearth and stood with his back to it looking down at Adam with intense concentration. ‘Liza tells me you have used the amulet, that you have placed it in your bedroom. Was this because you felt it gave you and your wife further protection, or was it a gesture of crazy superstition which you regretted but did anyway for reasons you could not quite fathom?’ His eyes held Adam’s and at last he smiled. ‘I see it was the latter. No matter. Ritual even without substance can still work and even a feeling such as that one is a start. You see I cannot help you unless you are prepared to take my advice.’

  ‘He will take your advice,’ Liza put in at last. ‘I shall see to it myself.’

  Meryn shook his head. ‘It must be more than that, girl. He has to be more than willing. He has to be strong. He has to believe.’

  ‘And what if he can’t?’ It was Adam who spoke.

  ‘Then, I don’t know that I can help.’

  Adam swallowed. In spite of himself he felt a frisson of cold run across his shoulders. ‘I don’t see why we’re all still so afraid of her.’

  ‘Because she tried to kill me once, that’s why.’ Liza stood up and walked up and down the floor with small, agitated steps. ‘Because you’re afraid she’ll try and kill Jane. And the reason you think that is because you can’t be sure she hasn’t killed before. I always suspected she killed your father’s housekeeper. She’s a gypsy, for God’s sake. They are passionate people. They have vendettas. They put curses on people.’

  Adam bit his lip. He was trying to rationalise his thoughts. ‘Look, I do believe she has the power to get inside our heads. She’s telepathic. She has the power to worry me. To frighten me, if you like. So I should be able to believe that you have just as strong a talent as she has. And that Mr Jones can tell me what to do. So, shut up, Liza. Let me answer for myself.’

  Liza looked up at the ceiling as if invoking divine aid. ‘Right. Good. So be it.’

  Meryn gave a small humourless smile. ‘If you fight hard enough between yourselves perhaps she’ll sense it. Then she’ll leave Liza out of it anyway.’

  ‘I’m sorry. We’re not fighting.’ Liza sat down next to Adam again. ‘I think I’m a bit agitated by all this.’

  ‘Right. Well that’s the first thing. Don’t be. You have to learn to stay calm. To stay centred. You have to learn to control your thoughts and be master of your own brain. You have to learn to exclude outside influences. You have to learn to protect yourself. You know all this, Liza. You inherited your psychic powers from your mother. Surely she must have taught you something about it when you were a child. She knew how to draw a circle of protection around herself.’

  ‘I’ve tried.’ Liza bit her lip. ‘It doesn’t seem to work with Brid.’

  ‘Because it’s the first time you’ve ever come up against this sort of thing, that’s why. You’re letting yourself be panicked. Stay calm. That’s all you need to do. Surround yourself with a wall of light. This Brid is a creature of the darkness.’ He had seen her in his meditations more than once now, Brid and the man who hunted her.

  ‘She told me once she came from the people who lived beyond the north wind,’ Adam put in slowly. ‘That’s how she saw herself. Wild. Untamed. Free.’

  Meryn stared at him.

  ‘Does all that mean something to you?’ Liza asked quickly.

  Slowly Meryn shook his head. ‘Probably not,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Probably coincidence. Now, Dr Craig. Let’s try and sort you out. You are going to have to learn to use your imagination. You are going to have to picture things with your mind’s eye so strongly and so well that they become real. And you’re going to have to do this for your wife and your son as well. You are going to have to learn to build walls around yourself and your family to keep this girl out and you’re going to have to make them so strong that whatever she does she can’t break through your defences.’

  It was after Adam and Liza had gone that Meryn went to his bookcase and rifled through the volumes there. The old copy of Herodotus lay on its side, the pages loose, discoloured with age. He picked it up lovingly and thumbed through it to find the passage. The people of the north wind. Surely the reference he remembered was in there somewhere.

  Some time later he sat before the fire and prepared himself for meditation. There was much he was going to have to remember, much he was going to have to study, before he could take on Brid and the shadowy figure who followed her.

  9

  Brid was standing on the top of Arthur’s Seat, staring south towards the Pentland Hills. In her pocket was a cotton scarf, in which was wrapped the comb still entwined with the few precious hairs. Where were they, A-dam and his Liza? She knew they were not together, but why could she not reach them any more? Her strength was failing and with it her health. She was thin and weak, her hair was ragged and had lost its shine, and her eyes were dark-ringed and haunted.

  ‘He is there. To the south. Somewhere to the south.’

  And so was the other man, the man from Adam’s time whose questing mind had encountered hers in the darkness of her dreams.

  Two people standing near her on the summit turned and seeing the girl talking to herself, wild-eyed, they moved away and began the descent towards the Sali
sbury Crags, leaving her quite alone.

  A-dam!

  Throwing her arms up into the air she faced the north wind and called out his name. ‘A-dam, where are you?’

  There were tears on her cheeks.

  ‘A-dam, my A-dam, I need you!’

  Slowly she turned in a complete circle, calling his name again and again. But there was no answer.

  Sometimes she went to stand at the bottom of the stair which had led to Adam’s digs just to feel that she was somehow nearer to him. The entry was dark and scruffy and a bit smelly but she didn’t mind. It was where he had been. The dizzy spells were becoming more frequent now and sometimes her other life, the life on the far side of the stone, was breaking through the veil which separated her from the past. They were waiting for her there, Broichan and his followers, waiting to kill her.

  She leaned back against the grey stone of the building and closed her eyes for a minute. When she opened them there was a young man standing in front of her. He looked concerned. ‘I say, are you all right?’

  She smiled groggily. ‘I think so. Just tired.’

  ‘I’ve seen you here before, haven’t I? Are you looking for someone?’

  She nodded. ‘For A-dam Craig. He used to live here, but he is gone.’

  ‘Adam Craig?’ The young man smiled cheerfully. ‘Oh he’s long gone, I’m afraid. My brother used to room with him. That’s how I got these digs. Adam’s got a practice down in England now. I can probably find his address if you want.’

  ‘You know where he is?’ The transformation in her face was miraculous. Suddenly she was glowing with happiness.

  ‘Sure. Come on up and I’ll have a look.’ Jimmie Thomson led the way up the narrow stair and fumbled for a key. The rooms were dark and crowded with heavy old furniture. They had, did she but know it, not changed one bit since Adam had left them. Jimmie walked over to the desk and rummaged for a scruffy address book. He found it and flipped through the pages, half of which were loose. ‘Here you are. It’s St Albans. He bought into the practice there after he married, so the chances are he’s still there.’ He grinned at her. ‘Do you want me to write it down for you?’

  She shook her head. ‘There is no need. I shall remember.’ She paused, staring round the room. There were things of A-dam’s still here, she could sense them: a book, a picture on the wall, and on the narrow shelf above the fire – she tensed and moved towards it. ‘This. This is A-dam’s.’ The small copper cufflink was half hidden behind a candlestick.

  ‘You’re right.’ He wondered how on earth she had seen it. She must have the eyesight of a hawk. ‘I found it down the back of the old armchair after he left. I always meant to post it to him, but I never got round to it.’

  ‘It is no matter. I will take it.’ She had already tucked it into her bag. She turned away. In the doorway she paused and stared at him for a moment. ‘What is married?’

  He frowned. ‘What is married?’ he echoed, puzzled. ‘You know. Taking a wife. Living with someone. He’s got kids too, now, I gather. Or at least one, and another on the way.’

  ‘I see.’ Her face had somehow dimmed. She stared at him for a moment longer, then disappeared down the stairs and into the street.

  Jimmie stood silent for a second and bit his lip, looking at the doorway. He felt a momentary qualm. Perhaps he shouldn’t have given her the address. He walked over to the door and without quite knowing why he turned the key. No, that was silly. Besides, the chances were that Adam had long ago moved on.

  ‘I need to go here.’ Brid had written down the address herself in her careful looped writing. She showed it to Catriona as soon as she came in.

  Catriona felt a sudden leap of elation – she was weary of her unexpected and so very dependent guest. She thought hard. ‘St Albans is down near London, I think. Why on earth do you want to go there?’

  ‘A-dam is there.’ Even without the cufflink she could find him now, but this way was easier.

  ‘Adam?’ Brid had never mentioned him before. She scanned Brid’s face and saw the fleeting emotions – longing, anger, fear, misery. ‘Is he someone very special?’

  Brid nodded. ‘My friend.’

  ‘I see.’ Catriona shrugged. ‘After we’ve had supper I’ll have a look at the map and see if I can find it.’

  ‘Now. I want to know now.’

  ‘Why? If you want to write to him …’

  ‘I will go there.’

  ‘Brid. It’s a very long way. You’d need to go on the train to London which is hundreds of miles and then you’d need to get another train. And you can’t go and see someone without letting them know you’re coming. Do you have his telephone number?’

  Brid shook her head. A-dam would know she was coming to find him.

  ‘Then we’ll ring up directory enquiries and ask. As you have his address they’ll tell you his number and you can phone him. Easy.’ She smiled. Taking the paper from Brid’s hand she went across to the desk and picked up the receiver. ‘So, what is his surname?’

  ‘His surname?’

  ‘His second name. He must have one. Adam who?’

  ‘A-dam Craig. He is a doctor.’

  ‘I see.’ She looked at Brid for a moment, then she nodded. ‘Right. Here goes.’

  Brid waited. She had long ago grown accustomed to Catriona’s telephone and had even plucked up the courage to answer it once or twice when she was alone in the flat. There seemed nothing strange in being able to talk to someone many miles away; in fact it was a distinct improvement on the way she was used to, which sometimes could be less than effective. It explained why people in Adam’s world did not seem to understand the way her people could reach each other just by thought. They had worked out a better way. In only a few minutes Catriona was passing her the receiver.

  Brid took it, her hand shaking, and listened to the ringing sound. Then there was a click and a ping and a woman’s voice sounded in her ear. ‘Hello? This is Jane Craig, can I help you?’

  Brid frowned. ‘A-dam?’ she said softly. ‘I want to speak to A-dam.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Adam’s on a call at the moment. Can I help?’ The voice was light and friendly. ‘Are you a patient?’

  ‘I want to speak to A-dam.’

  She heard a sigh, felt the barely concealed impatience. ‘I’m sorry, if you want to speak to him you’ll have to ring back tomorrow. He’s out at a confinement and I’ve no idea when he’ll be back.’

  ‘He is not there.’ Gently Brid laid the receiver back into its cradle. ‘I will go there.’

  Catriona sighed. ‘We’ll find out about the trains tomorrow. It’s a very long journey, Brid. It will take all day.’

  ‘I do not mind. I will go. Now.’

  ‘You can’t go now. There are no trains in the middle of the night.’ She did not know if it were true, but she had to deflect that burning determination somehow. It frightened her. ‘Tomorrow I shall come with you to the station and make sure you get the right ticket and help you onto the train, all right?’ She put a gentle hand over Brid’s. ‘It’s quite an adventure, my dear. It’s a very long way. You have to get it right.’ She met Brid’s eye and for a moment felt a quick breath of fear.

  There was pure venom in her gaze. Then the expression on the girl’s face changed and she relaxed. ‘All right. Tomorrow. I go to A-dam tomorrow.’

  That night, as Catriona lay in bed trying to sleep she had heard the girl rummaging about in the living room. Silently she had climbed out of bed and padded over to her door. Instead of accosting Brid and asking her what she thought she was doing, she had quietly turned the key in her lock and stood, her shoulders against the door, shaking with fright.

  Catriona drove Brid to Waverley Station, paid for her ticket, gave her five pounds for the onward journey, wherever it led, and saw her onto the train. She felt a moment’s compassion when she saw the terror on Brid’s face as they walked close to a huge, steaming engine, and then again as she saw the girl into a corner seat in a second class carr
iage, but as she stood and waved on the platform as the train pulled out she found her emotion was one of pure relief.

  It wasn’t until three days later that she noticed the silver paper-knife, which she had thought was hidden beneath the sea of papers on her desk, had gone.

  Adam climbed into the Riley, his black bag on the seat beside him, a list of the calls he had to make on the pad next to it. He glanced down at it as his foot toyed with the accelerator, warming the engine. A-dam, Jane had said. She had mimicked it exactly and the sound of the word had filled him with apprehension. If Brid had his phone number, she probably had his address. She didn’t need telepathy any more. She had found him. His hands were sticky on the wheel and he sat still for a moment, resting his head back against the top of the seat, breathing slowly and deeply. ‘What did she say, exactly?’ he had asked, panic-stricken.

  ‘Nothing. Just, “I want to speak to A-dam”. I told her she’d have to ring back today.’

  ‘If she does, tell her I’m out. Tell her I’ve gone away.’

  ‘Adam!’ Jane had given her sweet gentle laugh. She was pregnant again at last, and it suited her. She had never looked so radiant or so serene. ‘I can’t do that. For goodness’ sake. Who was it?’

  He had taken a deep breath. ‘It sounds as if it might have been Brid,’ he had said slowly. ‘She’s the only person to call me A-dam like that.’

  Jane had stared at him, her eyes wide. ‘Oh Adam, darling. But I thought all that was finished?’ He had only ever told her a little about his trip to Meryn with Liza, determined to protect her, not sure how much she would believe. ‘It can’t be her. And even if it is what on earth is she going to do? You’re married now. You’re a father. Please God, you’re about to be a father again …’ Let it be all right this time. ‘You’re a doctor, not a schoolboy!’ She had put her hands on his shoulders and given him a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘Oh my darling, don’t worry. I won’t let her put any spells on you, I promise. If she rings again, I’ll say you’ve gone away to be a doctor to the Eskimos. How’s that?’